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Show 174 "Is Dr. Chappie available?" I am asking. My voice is halting. Weakened. I have waited. Maybe I have waited too long. I can no longer even bring any muscle response to my legs. My arms are now beginning to weaken. "Suzanne?" she is saying and before I can fully describe my symptoms to her, she is interrupting me, telling me to get to her as quickly as possible. That is a difficult request. I live forty minutes away. I am no longer allowed to drive and anyway, I do not have the car. Hy does. "Call a neighbor," she is saying. "You must get here immediately." There is a rising concern in her voice. "This may be a Baclofen overdose." I have read the article entitled "Baclofen Overdose May Be Fatal," and I know there is concern but I cannot seem to find anyone home nearby who can take me. Dr. Chappie told me that I would have to go by ambulance, once again, if I cannot find someone to take me, and soon. "Barbara?" I am asking my friend. Thoughts of imposition creep out of my mouth and slither into the receiver. Barbara ignores them with a strong admonition. Of course she will take me. I am incapable of any movement as we pull into the driveway to Dr. Chappie's office. Barbara leaves the car idling in the red zone by the front door and runs inside. Dr. Chappie and Barbara |
