I Can Never Dream About Home

brain scans

Brain scan images found at PositiveMed.com

“I’m sorry but I don’t see much hope, Kathy.”

She turned from the neurologist to look down at her husband. He’d been in a coma for five weeks now following the car accident and still wasn’t showing any signs of brain activity. The machines and drugs kept his lungs breathing and his heart beating, but as much as she didn’t want to believe it, her husband of thirty-five years died when the garbage truck ran a stop sign and crushed the driver’s side of his car.

“I just need a minute alone with him, Doctor Schiavo.”

“Sure, I understand. I’ll be right outside.”

Kathy heard the door close behind her. Except for the usual medical monitor noises the room was silent. She was alone. It was a horrible decision to have to make. Their four children, spouses (three out of four had married and Lizzie had just gotten engaged) and eight grandchildren were right outside. How could she take their Daddy and Grandpa away from them?

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Blanketing Fantasy With A Hint of Reality

trump-clinton

Image: CNN.com

Carolyn felt comforted and satisfied as she finally turned off the TV after watching Hillary Clinton being inaugurated as the 45th President of the United States. It had been a struggle for her over the past eight years of the Obama Presidency, not because she opposed President Obama, not at all. It was a struggle because of the unfair and racist criticism he was constantly faced with during his two terms.

She hoped that with the Clintons back in the White House for another four and hopefully eight years, the country could finally heal, racism and sexism would begin to fade, and all of the so-called “deplorables” would learn to accept that a nurturing, protective, and loving woman was leading the nation. She fervently wished that Hillary wouldn’t have to experience sexism the way President Obama had faced such racist hatred.

Carolyn curled up on her sofa and pulled her big, fluffy blanket over her. She felt totally at peace, soothed, and relaxed. She thought about picking up her half-finished novel or making herself another cup of tea, but she didn’t feel like expending the energy. She wanted to bask in the glow of Hillary Clinton being the President. It almost didn’t seem real, more like a dream or fantasy come to life.

Then she cried out as another sudden, sharp pain shot through her skull. The headache was back. Where was it coming from? She’d been having these episodes with startling regularity ever since the day after Hillary won the election. She’d been to her doctor and then a specialist, but no one could explain why she had such pain.

She rubbed her temples and muttered, “Please, please go away.”

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