Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Special, too

     My drug holiday is about to end with a brand spanking new potion from the vault. We should've picked it up yesterday at the hospital instead of coming home, but I'm glad we didn't.
     That's how weird I am.
     I was more than happy to have it filled at the pharmacy near my house, even though I knew it would take longer that way.
     Now, it's more complicated because they don't have it here, period. Another day or two or three could pass, depending on how much I want to drag my feet on this.
     The two pharmacies are figuring it out now. I told them no worries.
     This holiday is starting to grow on me.
     I showed the epileptologist my seizure video, the one where I walk into the kitchen and my son, Tommy, catches me. I wanted him to see how goofy I act it makes me feel.
     He watched the passing out part several times and said he'd never seen anything like it.
     That's how weird I am.

     On the elevator ride up, a little girl wanted to push the buttons for everyone. She was in first grade and showed off her math skills, shyly, as we ascended.
     A man in uniform with her (Dad? Doctor?) made sure she said goodbye to the third floor man and fifth floor lady when they reached their destinations.
     Then, it was just us three, heading to the top.
     She didn't look sick, not at all. I checked with quick glances, then gave her my best smile when she caught me.
     "We're going to the same place," I said, stepping through the door.
     "She must be special, too," the man told her.
     "Oh, I am," I said, over my shoulder, like it's the best thing in the world to be, special.
     He said something to her about a test, and they turned in another direction.
     I hope it really was another direction, that she isn't special, and her test comes out normal, right on the bell curve.
     But if she is...special...I hope she can keep her weirdness from leaking out for at least the next  12 years, maybe a little longer, like I did.