While writing about benzodiazepine withdrawal, I came across this photo that Michael took of our boy on a recent, sweltering summer day. In it, Calvin is flailing and finger-snapping, toe-crunching, teeth-grinding and squealing. I see the "O" of the pool encircling him and am somehow reminded of so many thousands of pills—some white, some robin's-egg blue—that I've spooned into his open, baby-bird mouth in the nine-and-a-half years since he was diagnosed with epilepsy. Then I realize, that though it is my boy who is eating the pills, more so it's the pills that are devouring my boy.
He's not eaten, yet, Christy. I feel that things are changing for him and will continue to do so.
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