The Breakfast Mate Returns

Jordan is doing better. Her speech is only slightly slurred. She’s alert and feeling good.

I rolled out of bed at my usual time this morning, threw on some old workout clothes and headed out for my daily walk. Before I left, I tiptoed into Jordan’s room. She slept through the night balled up under the sheets, only a tassle of hair peeking from the folds.

I worried, how would she be today. Would she still act so disoriented? Would she cry constantly and struggle to tell us what was wrong? Would her left side be as weak as it was yesterday, alarming her when she couldn’t grasp her crayons or when a bit of drool escaped her lips without her knowledge.

These thoughts ran through my mind as I wandered our neighborhood in the wet morning air. I tried to take my mind off the situation. “Hope for the best,” I thought. I turned my attention to the hills, attacking them at a brisker pace than I normally would, stomping all my frustration into the pavement, sweating all the anger.

An hour later I was really tired. My hands shook some as I turned the lock on our front door. But when I opened it, there she was, sitting at the dining room table eating a frozen waffle.

“Dad, I’m having two waffles because I didn’t have any dinner? Charlie doesn’t like waffles does he? I cut this one by myself. Aren’t you proud of me, Dad?”

I couldn’t cry yesterday – too filled with anger – but I was choking them back this morning. Once again, the youngest of our clan proved to be the strongest. I fixed her eggs and sausage and her favorite vanilla tea. She chattered on while we ate our breakfast. She talked about her upcoming birthday between sips of tea. Her memory is better. She struggles to recall minor details, but she was able to tell us more about her day yesterday. She is not sad.

As is often the case, I now turn my worries to Luc. Last night he pretended nothing was wrong and acted upbeat. He lingered near my desk much of the night. I think he was spying on me. He spent far too much time picking through the fridge and he often asked me how I was doing. Jeanette and I think he was pretty freaked out by Jordan’s condition. When she got sick this way last year, he was away with friends on a long weekend. He never witnessed the seizures or the agitation. Yesterday, when she could not remember his name, I think it opened his eyes. He saw how nasty the tumors can be.

Today, he is quiet. Jordan is so chatty and so markedly different from yesterday, I think he’s having trouble piecing it all together. We’ll keep an eye on them both. Meanwhile, I am happy to have my breakfast mate back on the job.