Dante’s Prayer in General

  • May 18, 2019, 10:13 p.m.
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  • Public

Friday I was awake at 230am. By 300am I was out of bed. Ungraceful, tumbling thoughts bounced around in my brain. They went all the way from the beginning until the end. But the middle, oh the middle.

I had to be in Dover New Hampshire at 1100. Halfway into the drive I received a call which I reluctantly answered. Everything had been pushed by a hour. I accepted the fact that I would be there an hour early.

Mireya had oral/dental surgery scheduled Friday. She did not handle it well. Ketamine was again called into play. She kicked a screamed and punched. I swear if someone had been close enough, she would have bitten them.

It is awful, the things that went through my mind, especially post-op. The long debrief with the Doctor. In a claustrophobically small room.

In the next five to ten years my daughter will lose all of her teeth. Between behavioral issues and her trisomy 21. Imagining her future. Repeated surgeries to remove teeth and decay. It’s not the future I had hoped. That she would become a happy old lady, maybe living somewhere where she could have a cat again.

Right now, I can’t imagine how she would ever tolerate dentures. Her teeth are not the issue. It is the underlying bone structure. Her gums don’t seal around her teeth. So all manner of crap gets trapped in there.

In 1993 we were given the option of an amniocentesis. X1 was in her late 30s. Right about the time chromosomal defects start occurring. Women are born with all the eggs they will ever have.

We opted to not do the amniocentesis. Primarily because neither of us could have made the decision to abort our child. It was an agonizing decision.

We rolled the dice.

In that tiny room post-op, I started getting light headed. Wondering if her impending decrease in quality of life was some kind of sign that we had been cowards.

And it crossed my mind again.

Selfishly. Why am I here.

Then I picked up the pack again. She has many good years ahead of her.

And it was a beautiful drive home.


Last updated May 22, 2019


Pintador May 19, 2019

Love the way you put it - you picked up the pack again. Isn’t that life, after all? After the dark thoughts and what ifs, you just take a breath and pick up the pack again. There’s little else to do.

woman in the moon May 19, 2019

I understand.

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