Tuesday 31 October 2000

Pic of the day: Late fall trees reaching towards the heavens.

Howls

I woke up a few times in the night and heard the wind howl outside. I had this vague feeling of being one of those piglets while the big bad wolf is prusting and panting and trying to blow the house down...

Yet the wind we had was moderate compared to much of southern Norway. If I had been at home yesterday, I would have quite something to tell! And perhaps photos of Kristiansand partly under water. High sea levels and storm raging against the coast. Heavy rain. Cars half hidden in the water. And the large Denmark ferry snapping its moorings and drifting along the docks. But of course I wasn't there, so no pics!

***

But I was here: At the hospital with my parents, today again. And possibly for the last time, though you never know, these days. But whatever may come, these two days have shown me the truth in that old claim: Knowledge shall end, and tongues fall silent; but these three remain: Faith, hope and love. And greatest among them is love.

Perhaps I should try that again?

***

After work, my brother came to fetch me again. We stayed with my mother until my father was back from a quick dinner, and then we took goodbye. My mother had been reasonably lucid early in the day - at least for her condition. But at this time she was clearly in distress. From what I could see, she was suffering something like a panic attack. Reasonable enough, but actually my father thought (and I agree) that she was probably suffering from too little blood sugar. He tried to give her some juice with added sugar, but she did not get down much.

I have been through a few panic attacks at times in my life, and I certainly thought I recognized the restlessness, the helplessness, the expression in those eyes. I've only recently become aware that it was a connection between these horrible onslaughts on the brain and the level of glucose in the blood. (I still don't know quite how it works. There's a lot more to it than that, obviously.) Of all things in my life, I have felt nothing else come as close to represent damnation itself. It is more than pain, bypassing the body to strike at the soul itself.

And so we had to leave. My father was still with her, as he has been in sickness and health for all these years. There was nothing I could do. Still, leaving your mother in hell sucks.

(We ran into a small gaggle of medics in the corridor and chased them in. My father later called and verified that they had given her intravenous glucose, and then a meal, and then more glucose; that brought her out of it. So I guess that's a happier note to end this on, don't you think?)

(Oh, and for Light's sake: Don't try this at home kids. See a professional.)