KS was fainting again on Thursday morning. The doctor came and suggested KS should go into hospital for a few days for observation and tests. I cried. It was the wisest course of action, but really not what we wanted. We took a taxi to A&E and KS was checked in. A few hours of waiting in a cubicle and then there was a bed in a ward without windows. He had been there before for a few nights, in April. More bags of fluids, more blood tests, more scans. For him it means: noise, lots of impressions, all the discomfort that comes with not choosing what you surround yourself with and what you ingest. Lack of sleep. But at least he is monitored and hopefully the calcium will come down (it was still going up in spite of all the fluids) and a cause for the dizzy spells is found.
I speak to a friend and ask her how I come across. I do not really know. That is why I ask her to tell me. Tired, she says. In the meantime I have spotted a mouse. A few times. And I am going to say hello to the neighbours’ cat in a while, because they are away from home and need someone to check in with their cat. There seems to be some sort of message in there. But I cannot pick it up right now. I am certainly not dancing on any tables.* I have found for a while that often when I read a message, it doesn’t really seem to process. So that is where things are at the moment. Cat and mice. Fluids. Not knowing. No dancing. Taking breaths. One at a time.
* The Dutch expression is: When the cat is away the mice dance on the table.
