Healing

Dacos, I am pleased to report, is healing. The rest of us, not so much; we’re moving through doors we hadn’t expected to encounter.

The H was in L.A. for work last week, and without getting into too much gorey detail, had a seizure, something that has never happened before. He was driving at the time, and so wrecked his rental car and shook himself up quite badly. Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt much and mercifully, neither was anyone else, for which we are both beyond grateful. Even so, it was a terrifying experience for both of us, and I was happy beyond happy to have him home, safe if not completely sound, on Friday night.

Until we know why this happened (and we suspect a reaction to some medication he’s been taking) he can’t drive. This means that I am back in the twice a day commuting gig, one which made me nearly insane when we first moved here. There’s nothing to be done about it, so I am trying to figure out how best to integrate the extra hour of commuting into my already packed days. My first sane step was to decline the opportunity to take on yet another volunteer responsibility at the kids’ school.

We’ll muddle through this, but it was a shock. Ah, the chaos of life.