An Odd Thing to Say…

It must have been the twentieth time I explained to one medical professional or another exactly what happened when I couldn’t awaken my husband on the morning after his father died. During Dennis’ two weeks in the ICU in a medically induced coma, I was asked to describe the scene so many times that most of those exchanges blurred together—save one:

ME: It was about 7:00 a.m. Our kitten jumped on the bed meowing. I nudged Dennis and said in a cutesy-wootsy voice, “Pappy, your little BiBi wants to be fed.” There was no response, so I prodded him with my elbow. Still no response. I got up and walked over to his side of the bed and tried to jostle him up. When I moved his arm it flopped over like dead weight. I started shouting, “Wake up! Wake up! And then in panic I smacked him hard across the face.

DOCTOR: And this was out of the ordinary?