Ode to the Computer Keyboard

Norwegian version

The development is going in the wrong direction. Less activity is tolerated. Sounds, light, texts, questions. The sun must be shut out. Nobody can visit.

The pain in joints and muscles are getting worse. Sweat and hot flashes come increasingly more often. The skin is marbled in blue and pink.

Nobody wants to be like this. Nobody.

Being the lonely next of kin, this is a heavier challenge than I ever would have imagined. And I would never have thought I would be able handle a situation like this. But what other choice do I have?

I have to be around as much as possible. Adjust the temperature, help with this and assist with that. But I have to be quiet.

The sick child is sleeping
The child is sleeping. Shh!
The child is awake. Shh!The child is in the shower. Fast, now! – Vacuum clean- change-the-linen-tidy-up- empty-the-dishwasher- and- fill-it-up-again!

The child is resting. Shh!

The child is freezing – hot water bottle! Now! No! The child is too warm – open the door! Now!

Turn the covers. Shake the pillow. Can I get some water? Thank you.


And what can I do? When it is noisy and painful when I cook, even as quiet as I possibly can be? What can I do not to drown in despair?

I can write. As long as I sit in another room, so the noise from  the keys is not heard. So I write. And I read. And I’m searching. On-line. Searching for possible solutions. Searching for a straw to cling to.

"It wasn't meant to be like this."
«It wasn’t meant to be like this.»

I’m clinging to my computer keyboard.

It keeps me barely hanging above
the pit of despair.

By ME mum for five years

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