strangers, friends and neighbors

Sunday night after a twelve hour stint in the emergency room, Calvin having endured repeated seizures plus four emergency medications—sedatives meant to quell the seizures—he suffered two more in bed at home. After the second one, neither of which were convulsive, I gave him some extra cannabis oil, mixing the THCA oil with the CBD oil. Thankfully, he didn’t have a third seizure.

All day long Monday and Tuesday Calvin was listless and spacey. I’d kept him home from school both days because he didn’t want to walk and, when he did, his balance was awful. At times he dropped to the floor from exhaustion, dizziness or confusion. The snow, which had again begun falling early Sunday morning, had not relented, laying down inch after inch all day Monday. As Calvin rested I managed to write of his ordeal and after posting it to this blog I received over one-hundred messages of love and concern from near and far, from loved ones, strangers, friends and neighbors. These are but a few:

Hey Doc, no words are adequate.  Just thinking about Mr. C and sending him any karma that’s about.  Best to you and MJK

Hoping that you are all resting comfortably back at home--and that you are enjoying a quiet cup of coffee this morning. Hugs.

I'll call you in a bit. I'm so sorry.

sending you love.

can i give you a piggy back ride, like ANYWHERE all day? i'll wear a special hat with straws sticking out of it--beverage of your choice. then i'll rest you down on a bed of roses and lavender. oh how i love you.

Hugs to you, Calvin and Michael. Any other words just fail me right now...

Oh No! Christy, I am so very sorry. My heart is aching for you. ANYTHING at all that you need, call us. xoxoxoxoxoxo

Please never hesitate to send me texts at the crack of dawn asking me to come get Nellie.

We are thinking about you all -- sending warm and hopeful thoughts your way. We'd love to help with dog care, snow blowing, whatever.

For whatever good it might do: we're thinking of you all, and wishing you all a more peaceful day.

There are no words for how much I hate this for all of you. Sending love. xxoo

Sending love and healing thoughts to you and your family always.

Christy, Calvin knows how much you love him. Stay strong my friend and don't forget to sleep when you can. Sending positive thoughts...

At four o’clock on Monday, my friend Teresa arrived with her daughter Elise and her friend Ellie. Though it was bitter—single digits with cutting winds—the three of them took Nellie out for a walk. Just before they left, Mary arrived with Nellie’s littermate, Gryff, to do the same. Several others had also offered to walk Nellie in the cold. Before everyone got out the door Lauren arrived with a birthday board book for Calvin, and she sat with me while I fed him an early dinner. Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw our neighbor, Brian, snow-blowing our driveway after a day’s worth of constant snow had erased any proof that Michael had cleared it that morning. Crying, I cracked open the door and gestured to Brian—the meaty rumble of the blower too loud for me to be heard—by putting my hand over my heart in gratitude. The look on his face told me that he ached for Calvin and for us and that he wished he could do more. Just as Brian was beginning to clear a path for the mailman I saw Vlad coming down the street plodding behind his blower. Brain handed it over to Vlad, who finished up the job. And when I was about as bowled over by love and affection as I could have been, DeWitt showed up with a dinner that Jane had just made—turkey chili with peppers and cornbread still warm from the oven. They even included a couple of beers.

Today is the first day of sunshine in a while and the first in several that I've been able to get out of the house. Without the wind, single digits this morning felt balmy. I took Nellie to the fields, thinking I could walk on the serpentine trails which skiers and snow-shoers had blazed before me, but I was wrong. In the center of a vast cloak of white, each step I took sunk nearly to the knee, my boots taking on snow until finally I foundered and fell on my ass. Standing up was nearly impossible since the snow gave way beneath my hands so I had to roll onto my knees and get up from there. The final fifty yards to the service road were the hardest and, panting and beginning to sweat, I had visions of folks who climb Everest and wondered why. Finally, with feet on solid ground, I felt triumphant. I thought about our miserable day in the emergency room, about the seizures, about the drugs, about the sleep deprivation, the worry, the fear, about the tense situation at home, and I realized, though it is hard, I'll get through it somehow, by myself or with the help of loved ones, strangers, friends and neighbors.

before Sunday and Monday's snow storm