As we continue the countdown to Monday's upcoming visit with the headache specialist, I begin to understand the concept of eternity.
Eternity exists outside of time. My clocks still tick of seconds and minutes, and they are all theoretically of the same length, one compared to another. But think about how time passes while you sleep. There is very little sense of time passing, yet you fall asleep in one day and wake up in another.
This wait is the opposite of that. Watching your child suffer takes you outside of time and into a new, eternal dimension that makes each second expand exponentially into something that touches on forever. Everytime I see those sunglasses, time slows, and slows, and slows. We go through what is now a nearly daily routine - check temperature, check blood pressure, use the one-to-ten pain scale to evaluate neck and head pain. I check for true signs of meningitis DAILY, and sometimes more than three times in a day. It makes me late for work. It makes my heart pause whenever my phone rings. It makes me crazed and fearful. It makes me feel helpless, and alone.
Babygirl and I have more or less reached a point of apathy. We go through the motions, take medications, push fluids and rest. And we wait.
Four more days.
Perhaps Hell is like this. Eternal helplessness. Eternal anxiety. Eternal loss of hope. We don't need real flames to feel the burn.