I was woken by my daughter’s cries of pain.
She needs to go to the hospital, my wife says to me.
Too many kids, lay on the pallet in the living room.
What do we do at almost midnight?
Do we wake them all and deal with consequences at school?
No, we call my sister.
My wife leaves with our daughter.
Little sleep occurs as my son fights his sleep, like a knight saving a princess.
It’s 3 AM, he finally conquers the dragon and finds his prize, sleep.
My wife comes home, our daughter has found she has an infection.
Medicine we can’t afford, but love we can give freely.
Get paid tomorrow, medicine will wait until then.
Son wakes back up, and finds another quest of his own.
My wife and I are in battle with his quest,
Trying to help him defeat his imaginary realm of knighthood.
6 AM, we finally are all asleep.
I wake at the alarm clock blaring in my ear.
It’s time for school.
I roll out of bed, feeling as if a Mac truck hit me while I was sleeping.
Maybe it did.
The kids are ready and drop them off at school,
Lunch money in hand, and tiredness on their faces.
They, too, fought the imaginary battle of my son’s quests.
I come back home, and find it’s time for Dad’s heart surgery.
I wait anxiously for news,
Still tired, still feeling the pain of that damned Mac truck,
I fall asleep.
I wake to a call.
“He’s out of surgery, and the doctor says he’s fine,
It’s a 95% expectancy of no more PSVT attacks,
No more risk of a stroke once a week when he has them.”
It’s a Good Day.