Memory #65

My sister and I went to piano lessons together at our teacher's own house. Her name was Donna, and she sat in a wheel chair. She was morbidly obese and partially paralyzed. She could not move one arm and both her legs. Donna was a very heavy breather. She had a pointing stick that she would unfurl with her wet mouth and proceed to scratch her saliva against my song book. She had warned us that if her leg ever had a seizure that she would need our help putting it back in the stirrup of her chair. During one lesson, her leg started vibrating everywhere and she was clenched in pain! She calmly asked us to wedge it back into the chair for her. My sister did not budge and looked at me with a smirk. I had to catch the leg and shove it back in. It was traumatizing, and we started going to lessons less and less until we found out that she died.