I rushed downstairs. Things weren't looking good. Mom and Dad had been staying in the basement, and Dad was in the bedroom, door closed. Mom was teary-eyed on the armchair, talking to Grandpa Don. I knew what had happened. Dad had had some seizures, got incredibly weak, and Mom took him to bed.
I sat with Mom for a bit, trying to comfort her. She told me a little bit of the story - Dad, although his walking had improved over the last couple of weeks, as of tonight, couldn't seem to walk. After a while, she asked me to leave so that she and Grandpa could talk.
I complied and went up to my room, trying to understand what this meant. I had gotten so used to how things had been for the past months... this was such a shock, and obviously really bad. It looked like things were going to change for the worse. I cried a bit myself, overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. It really is terrible, especially for a man like Gary. It's hard to describe.
Eventually the night came to a gradual end. Beth and Alyssa and all their friends and relatives left for home. I packed it in for the night downstairs. I was still sleeping down there while Grandpa was in town. As if sleeping wouldn't be hard enough in my own bed.
But that's not what kept me up.
Dad got up around midnight to go to the bathroom. He fell. It woke me up with a shock. I put his arm around my neck and lifted him up. He could barely support his own weight, even with me helping. Eventually, though, I got him back into his bed.
Unfortunately, he did the same thing in an hour, and this time with worse results. He fell, again, and hurt his foot. I came in and helped him back into bed again. His foot was in pain, and it seemed pretty bad. He was barely be able to move around without it hurting. But there wasn't anything we could really do about it. It was his bad foot. Getting it cast, even if it was broken, wouldn't help us. I went back to bed. I still had to get up in six hours.
As if the situation wasn't bad enough already...
