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Round nine this morning learned S. had been found convulsing in his wheel chair and was unresponsive.  He was taken to the ER.  Later, round three, learned that he was responsive. He was being treated once again for UTI.  Was that the cause of convulsions? Don’t know. Cat scan showed nothing, and results of MRI are not yet in.

I called the hospital and spoke briefly with a nurse.

I spent most of the day preparing myself for the call or text or whatever that S. had died.  I have gone through this now at least three times.  How many times can one prepare for the death of one’s Brother.  As many as it takes, I guess.  Not that he is out of the woods, this time.  But according to B. the authorities say he is stabilizing and his stay in hospital should be short.

I woke, before I learned of S’s situation, terrified.  I said to my self, “I am terrified.”  Could not have said why (who needs a reason) and were I new agey I might say I had picked up telepathically on S’s plight.  But it wasn’t that.  It was another night of horrible sleep and an altered dose of the meds.

Second night at 3/8’s down, and 2.5 milligrams Valium

I decided not to wear the apnea mask; it has been so awful.  And I woke up Carol around three with my snoring.  I didn’t sleep soundly after that.

Again the weather is nuts.  A few minutes ago it was 93 degrees at 4:30 pm.  Heat promises to continue for three or four more days.

Did 20 minutes on bike, 30 on elliptical and swam .5 miles.

Saw psychotherapist….discussed family….what else?

Milton’s Satan, condemned forever to hell, says: “What reinforcement we may gain from hope/ If not, what resolution from despair.“