The 7:00 PM Pill: When “Nice” Isn’t Enough to Stay Married

the wall. He was rigid, foaming at the mouth, his legs paddling uselessly against the floor. He was in the middle of a cluster seizure. He had likely been suffering for over an hour while my husband dozed ten feet away.

I didn’t scream. I went into survival mode. I scooped up my sixty-pound boy—my back screaming in protest—and ran him to the SUV. I continue reading …