Day 5840

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Today is my sixteenth birthday.  So far.  Everything has gone well.  Mom lets me stay home from school.  She makes me a chocolate cake.  I'm her only child.

Dad is at work.  Going to be home soon.  Carrying presents I know this.  I love my birthday but I also hate it. 

I'm in a wheelchair.  A big one.  One that you would see people who are paralyzed from the neck down in. I'm not paralyzed.  I have Cerebral Palsy.  I can write and talk.  I can eat.  I can move my arms.  I can move. It's just hard.  I can't support myself.

I have spasms. Seizures. I'm a smart kid.  Most think I'm stupid because my speech is hard to understand.  But you just have to listen.

My fingers curled around the wheelchair controls as I moved my wheelchair out if my room and to the kitchen.  I let out a yawn.  Mom looks at me with a smile. 

She calls me her Rose bud. She loves me.  She doesn't mind having to take care of me.  She doesn't mind at all.  I can kind of take care of myself but it's hard.  With my spasms. 

Dressing myself takes at least an hour.  Bathing takes longer.  Then there's the catheters and the cooking.  I would like to live on my own but it's too early.

My mom kisses the top of my head as she sets an omelet on the table.  I smile a little.  My smile is lopsided.  Shaky.  I mumble a thanks as I pick up the fork.  It has padding on it so my hands can grip it better. 

Mom nods as she watches me eat sipping some of her own coffee. 

My knees knock together in a spasm.  But I ignore it.  I eat.  I enjoy my omelet.  I enjoy my birthday. 

After a few hours of playing scrabble and pictonary with my mom my father bursts into the house carrying at least twenty presents. 

He drops them all gently as he walks over to me.  "one year older. One year. You are an old man James!" He kissed the side of my head as he messed up my curly red hair. 

"cake first then presents! Ice cream to damn it I forgot the ice cream!"

Mom laughed some "I got the ice cream already. James wanted chocolate mint. "

"mmm my favorite.  James you are a good man. " My dad lets out a chuckle. 

My parents.  I love them.  My mom she's a sweet lady.  Calling me her miracle.  He has aired curly hair like mine.  Her face has laugh scars.  And wrinkles but she is beautiful.

Dad is a big man.  Bug as in chubby.  He has a beer belly.  He doesn't drink.  Not with me around because he knows at any moment something bad might happen. I got my tan skin from him.  My freckles came from my mom.  My parents.  They are perfect for each other.

I follow my dad into the kitchen where the cake has been sitting for at few hours.  Mom had decorated it whole I had taken a small nap.  It was wonderful. 

I smiled as I looked up at mom. Dad rubs my head and every one  gathers around at the table. 

Candles light. My parents sing in their off key voices that always make me smile and we eat cake and ice cream.  Dad smashes my face in the ice cream.  I laughed.  He always did that.  My hands wipe the cold cream off my face. 

Everything was fine.  That was until.  I had a seizure.  Mom was talking about me as a baby.  She was laughing dad was laughing and before they knew it I was having a seizure.  I took my meds this morning.  Mom was sure of it. 

Dad held my hand.  He tried to keep me still.  He didn't want me getting hurt.  Mom placed a pillow under my head after she had gotten me out of my wheelchair. 

It was getting hard to breathe.  I didn't like this. I felt dad's hand rubbing my hair.  Whispering to me.  Telling me I would be okay.

Then it ended.  And I fell asleep. 

Mom must of carried me to my room. 

My happy birthday ended up not so happy.

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