Elizabeth! that is one fucking amazing piece of writing! I am thinking of my mother walking out of LA General with her daughter (my sister) in the polio ward. did she babble and cry and were there enough friends to take care of her? or was she stoic and did she get lost in the labyrinth and forget to press "plaza"? i spent four hours in the Huntington parking lot during Covid, couldn't go inside where my husband was having scans at midnight. the only car in the parking lot. couldn't wait inside. shivering. and there is your precious Sophie. and it sounds like she will come home and we love seeing her feet and i send you a warm blanket of love.... (your lucky English students!) Louise
Oh Elizabeth, you capture the terror and PTSD so well here. I'm relieved the antibiotics are doing the work. And I'm so glad you are surrounded by supportive angels. I'll be sending love and hope you are all home together soon.
Arms around, Elizabeth. That's something my grandmother used to say when she wanted us to know she would hug us if she could. Love and health to Sophie and to you.
On edge, of course, where else could you find yourself, that and whatever we cannot find words for. You carry so much and what a relief it is to read that you are not alone. And that antibiotics are working.
Whatever the not-a-spa surroundings, the plastic waste and the fake glittering designer surfaces, take the offerings from medicine, the ones that were invented with good intentions of healing, and know that one day soon you can go back home.
How you write. I’m glad Sophie is healing. I’m grateful for Saint Carl and the brothers and the family and friends who sit at Sophie’s bedside and bring you food. I pray you will be healed too though I don’t know what that means. A surreal dystopia and my god you evoked it. You must feel insane inside the labyrinth. Seems like that’s the only sane response to the madness. The suspension and in between. I’m glad the staff are nice. I’m holding you tight.
"I laughed, as only the chronic-traumatic stress parents laugh, balancing the gratitude with the hate and the healing with the horror."
As is so often the case, you sum this life up so perfectly.
I'm glad Sophie is out of the ICU and the antibiotics are doing their work. I hope you're all home just as soon as she's ready and you're ready.
Elizabeth! that is one fucking amazing piece of writing! I am thinking of my mother walking out of LA General with her daughter (my sister) in the polio ward. did she babble and cry and were there enough friends to take care of her? or was she stoic and did she get lost in the labyrinth and forget to press "plaza"? i spent four hours in the Huntington parking lot during Covid, couldn't go inside where my husband was having scans at midnight. the only car in the parking lot. couldn't wait inside. shivering. and there is your precious Sophie. and it sounds like she will come home and we love seeing her feet and i send you a warm blanket of love.... (your lucky English students!) Louise
Sending peace and love to you and Sophie and Carl. ❤️🩹
“… balancing the gratitude with the hate and the healing with the horror.”
I am SO happy to hear Sophie is out of ICU. So much love and light your way, enough to cover all of you.
Oh Elizabeth, you capture the terror and PTSD so well here. I'm relieved the antibiotics are doing the work. And I'm so glad you are surrounded by supportive angels. I'll be sending love and hope you are all home together soon.
I’m so glad your neighbor gave you a ride, that your sister is there, your sons and Carl. Love to Sophie and to all of you.
Trauma does feel like a labyrinth from which one will never emerge. So good to see those feet at the end of the bed.
Such genius writing amid the horror. Love to you Elizabeth. Rebecca
Deep and wide hugs for you, dearest Elizabeth. And bless Carl forever.
An ocean of love.
Love
Arms around, Elizabeth. That's something my grandmother used to say when she wanted us to know she would hug us if she could. Love and health to Sophie and to you.
On edge, of course, where else could you find yourself, that and whatever we cannot find words for. You carry so much and what a relief it is to read that you are not alone. And that antibiotics are working.
Whatever the not-a-spa surroundings, the plastic waste and the fake glittering designer surfaces, take the offerings from medicine, the ones that were invented with good intentions of healing, and know that one day soon you can go back home.
Been there with Sonja…same illness…we are thinking of Sophie! ❤️❤️❤️
I'm grateful, from afar, for Carl, and both near and far, for antibiotics. ❤️🩹
How you write. I’m glad Sophie is healing. I’m grateful for Saint Carl and the brothers and the family and friends who sit at Sophie’s bedside and bring you food. I pray you will be healed too though I don’t know what that means. A surreal dystopia and my god you evoked it. You must feel insane inside the labyrinth. Seems like that’s the only sane response to the madness. The suspension and in between. I’m glad the staff are nice. I’m holding you tight.