Back to Uptime Jordan
She glides her fingers across the track pad of the MacBook she shares with her mother. The white earbud cords dangle from her ears like costume jewelry. She is watching a video on “how to wash a pug” with a cheerful smile and a raised brow. She often comments about the content as if I were sitting next to her listening to the same audio – but of course I’m not. So, every so often the silence in the room is punctuated by Jordan in a loud voice.
–Isn’t that interesting, Dad?
–Honey, I can’t hear what you’re hearing.
–If you use more water the pug’s coat will absorb it.
I stare back at her blankly.
–That’s very interesting
She says this matter-of-factly and then re-engrosses with her video. The full visage of her face is obscured by giant ringlets of hair. She gets tired of brushing them out of her eyes so half the time I feel that I am talking to a shaggy dog, or Cousin Itt. No matter, though. She is radiant these days. She’s gained some much-needed weight and her skin is full of color. The blush is back in her cheeks and the fire has returned to her eyes.
We’ve all enjoyed the last two weeks with our Slayer back at home. She’s gone to school most days, except for the occasion or two when she battled a headache or thwarted a seizure. The seizures come frequently–about one every other day. On most days she just has auras. These disrupt her energetic pace, but don’t discourage her. We’ve learned to dismiss and trivialize the seizures. Jordan responds better that way. There’s no surer way to make her worry than for us to make too much of a fuss or overly-pamper her.
That doesn’t mean they’ve gotten any easier for Jeanette or I. When Jordan had a large seizure midweek both of us were shaken and sad. True to form, when it had passed Jordan asked to go to bed and she slept for hours only to wake and want to tackle the next day. Though it may seem absurd, this is normal for us and we welcome the return of “uptime Jordan.” Sitting here in the living room with her I am kissed with conversational oddities, caressed with dizzy riddles that make me giggle, and courted by random pleasantries that always end in requests for affirmation.
–We do like to sit here and listen to music, don’t we, Dad?
–We do.
–And this is a lovely day, isn’t it?
–It is.