I haven’t written anything in a while. One reason is that Blogger broke my shit again. Another reason is that I haven’t really been sure what to say after it’s fixed. Some shit’s gone on over the last few weeks that just seemed to slow everything down. I might have expected that it would help to “put everything into perspective,” like it probably would for a character on the WB, but it just put me under water. I almost expected to look around and see people’s hair drifting about their heads and bubbles streaming from their noses — and I’m not sure it’s getting any better.

Micki’s just come back from Virginia, where she was dealing with the situation head on. I can’t even imagine what she sees when she looks around.

I can imagine what some people see, though. Some people see their family rushing to their sides, or panicking and arguing, or simply racing past the easy chair in a flurry of smears and blurs. They see feeding tubes and bedpans and dressings. It’s easy to imagine that they might see a little poorer in that split second when they forget themselves and try to speak, and their eyes narrow in a moment of pain. Or maybe its not so easy to forget yourself when all you want is not to be seen. What Doug sees is the end and in the few short weeks he has to get used to the idea, I know he’ll be glad that among the blurs and bedpans he was able to see Micki — soberly and somberly picking up the pieces, and putting them away.

The rarer seen, the less in mind, The less in mind, the lesser pain.