It's 5:36am. I know because I checked the clock before I ran to Michael's room. His sister is already there, awakened too, by the guttural sound that occurs now and then at the start of a seizure. We know it's going to be a long one. We just know. Meaghan runs to get an ativan, I swipe Michael's VNS with a magnet. I put the ativan in his clenched mouth-grinding it against his teeth so it dissolves quickly. At least he'll sleep peacefully after. Meaghan mentions it's a lousy way to start a birthday. It's over--- 5:39. Barry's in the shower--has been the whole time. I curl back into my side of the bed; go fetal, and cry...and cry. Can I, can we, keep doing this? Well--of course we can and we will-just somedays it's a little harder. Barry gets dressed, I tell him, he hugs me--more tears. He goes downstairs-comes back up, says "Happy Birthday".