otherâs eyes.
It occurs to me that Rusty is definitely not defenseless.
This thought, however, is immediately crushed by another more pressing realizationâIâm slipping into a seizure.
16
A slow, low buzz starts to hum inside my head and I know instantly what it is: the weird zone before my seizure gets a full grip on me. In these last few seconds before my spirit escapes, I see my mom. She hasnât noticed that my seizure has started, so instead of coming to my side to comfort me, she turns and leaves the kitchen, walking up the stairs toward her room.
Debiâs bus arrives.
I hear Mom say, âHave fun at school, Debi.â
Debi calls, âB-b-b-bye,â and goes out the door.
Iâm just about to slip away from my body when I focus on Rusty. He was calm and quiet a few moments ago, but now the fur on the back of his neck rises as he watches me. I twitch around, drool even more heavily than usual, and am unable to breathe for several long seconds.
Rusty starts to inch toward me, growls low, and bares his teeth. I canât blame him for being scaredâeven normal human beings get frightened watching me have a grand mal seizure, but people know better than to attack me. I donât know what Rusty is going to do.
As Iâve said, I love my seizures and my chance to escape my body for a while. But although I can usually will myself to stick around, in this seizure I canât. My spirit leaves my body and flies far away before I can see what Rusty will do next.
I find myself in a library with a large glass wall, looking over a river raging down below. Where is this place? I am sitting in a comfortable chairâI can feel my butt on the soft cushions of the upholstered seat, and I lean against its upholstered back, eyeing the rows of shelves holding thousands of books.
Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure move quickly behind one of the bookshelves. Who is it? What is it? I donât know how I know, but I sense that this figure has been staring at me.
I want to go look, but now I feel too hot, like Iâm being suffocated under a stack of pillows. I feel like I am gasping, struggling to get enough oxygen. What is going on here?
I awaken from the seizure, slowly coming back to my senses. Iâm confused and a little frightened. Iâve never had a dream like this before. My dreams and seizures usually feel the same to me, but this one feels more like a nightmare than a dream. Who was that dark figure? What did it want with me? A chill runs through my body, a shiver of fear. After a few moments, I realize that Iâm still in my wheelchair, my head tilted way back, staring at the ceiling. My breaths come in short, panting gasps. Finally my head drops forward so that Iâm looking out the window, seeing my regular view of the water. But I still feel suffocated, and only now do I realize why Iâm so hot; Rusty has hoisted his front paws onto my legs and has draped himself over my body. Although he seems calm, his head is raised, his expression attentive and alert, totally in control. Rusty has felt my fear and he has overcome his own fear of my wheelchair. He is protecting me. Somehow, in his dog brain, Rusty understands that I am not my wheelchair, I am alive and here with him.
I canât make myself look at him, but after a few moments, he seems to sense that Iâve noticed him lying across my lap. Iâd like to say, âGood dog, Rusty, you can get off me. Iâm okay.â Of course I canât say this, but as Iâm thinking it, Rusty shifts his head, arching his neck so that he gazes directly into my eyes. He makes a tiny whine, as if heâs saying something back to me, and gently lifts himself up and drops to the floor.
My head shifts and Iâm looking at Rusty again as he goes back to his favorite spot and lies down. He looks back at me, lowers his head onto his front paws, and stares, as if he is waiting to see
It occurs to me that Rusty is definitely not defenseless.
This thought, however, is immediately crushed by another more pressing realizationâIâm slipping into a seizure.
16
A slow, low buzz starts to hum inside my head and I know instantly what it is: the weird zone before my seizure gets a full grip on me. In these last few seconds before my spirit escapes, I see my mom. She hasnât noticed that my seizure has started, so instead of coming to my side to comfort me, she turns and leaves the kitchen, walking up the stairs toward her room.
Debiâs bus arrives.
I hear Mom say, âHave fun at school, Debi.â
Debi calls, âB-b-b-bye,â and goes out the door.
Iâm just about to slip away from my body when I focus on Rusty. He was calm and quiet a few moments ago, but now the fur on the back of his neck rises as he watches me. I twitch around, drool even more heavily than usual, and am unable to breathe for several long seconds.
Rusty starts to inch toward me, growls low, and bares his teeth. I canât blame him for being scaredâeven normal human beings get frightened watching me have a grand mal seizure, but people know better than to attack me. I donât know what Rusty is going to do.
As Iâve said, I love my seizures and my chance to escape my body for a while. But although I can usually will myself to stick around, in this seizure I canât. My spirit leaves my body and flies far away before I can see what Rusty will do next.
I find myself in a library with a large glass wall, looking over a river raging down below. Where is this place? I am sitting in a comfortable chairâI can feel my butt on the soft cushions of the upholstered seat, and I lean against its upholstered back, eyeing the rows of shelves holding thousands of books.
Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I see a dark figure move quickly behind one of the bookshelves. Who is it? What is it? I donât know how I know, but I sense that this figure has been staring at me.
I want to go look, but now I feel too hot, like Iâm being suffocated under a stack of pillows. I feel like I am gasping, struggling to get enough oxygen. What is going on here?
I awaken from the seizure, slowly coming back to my senses. Iâm confused and a little frightened. Iâve never had a dream like this before. My dreams and seizures usually feel the same to me, but this one feels more like a nightmare than a dream. Who was that dark figure? What did it want with me? A chill runs through my body, a shiver of fear. After a few moments, I realize that Iâm still in my wheelchair, my head tilted way back, staring at the ceiling. My breaths come in short, panting gasps. Finally my head drops forward so that Iâm looking out the window, seeing my regular view of the water. But I still feel suffocated, and only now do I realize why Iâm so hot; Rusty has hoisted his front paws onto my legs and has draped himself over my body. Although he seems calm, his head is raised, his expression attentive and alert, totally in control. Rusty has felt my fear and he has overcome his own fear of my wheelchair. He is protecting me. Somehow, in his dog brain, Rusty understands that I am not my wheelchair, I am alive and here with him.
I canât make myself look at him, but after a few moments, he seems to sense that Iâve noticed him lying across my lap. Iâd like to say, âGood dog, Rusty, you can get off me. Iâm okay.â Of course I canât say this, but as Iâm thinking it, Rusty shifts his head, arching his neck so that he gazes directly into my eyes. He makes a tiny whine, as if heâs saying something back to me, and gently lifts himself up and drops to the floor.
My head shifts and Iâm looking at Rusty again as he goes back to his favorite spot and lies down. He looks back at me, lowers his head onto his front paws, and stares, as if he is waiting to see
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