Yet Another Seizure in the Shower

Spring, 2009


Sandy had an art show, and Abby really needed a shower. So I told her to take one, and I would stay right out the door if she needed me. She called, and I went in. "What is it Abby?" She was six inches in front of me, and collapsed into a seizure. It just happens that fast. Six inches away, and the fall to the concrete is too fast for me to catch her. She crashed to the tile floor, and there was blood everywhere, washing down the drain with the flowing water. It looked like a scene from CSI.

Three inch gash right under her right eyebrow, deep. Past the muscle tissue. I called Ben, and his best friend Levi. They came up from the basement. Ben held her in place while Levi held a light so I could see what I was doing while I sutured her eyebrow in the shower. My hands don't normally shake while I suture, but the were this time. 8 sutures. It isn't the most plastic-surgeon worthy suturing I have ever done, but given the circumstances, I don't feel that I did too badly. I have her laying on ice to minimize the swelling, but her right upper lid is already quite swollen.

There is no time for modesty in situations like these. My twenty year old daughter with the mind of a 5 year old, wet and seizing, the seventeen-year old boys helping me with an unconscionable situation. They are not boys now, but respectable young men coming to a medical age with the respect and judgment worthy of any trained adult.

I have had to suture my daughter more times than I can remember. People tell me that god doesn’t give you more than you can bear, but they don’t know how unbearable this is. Please keep the platitudes to yourself. Everyday, I grieve the loss of what my daughter could have been. I don’t begrudge your right to believe in a god, but I find him or her hard to find through the density of this pain.