*******I feel like my regular readers/supporters/friends/prayer team deserve an update on what has been going on in my life, and yet the superstitious part of me is terribly afraid to do so. I am knocking on wood with my other hand and both of my feet, as I write this. My son (the one who has epilepsy) has managed to string along more seizure-free days than he has done, in a long while. My son is currently on five anti-seizure, heavy-duty brain medications, but we, (with his doctor’s instructions) are carefully weaning him off at least two of these medications. This autumn has easily been the worst, most painful, scariest experience of my life, and that of our family’s history. My son has experienced more major seizures in two months, than he has had, all together, in all of the years prior, since he was diagnosed with epilepsy in 2014. My son is home with us, we are “holing up”, keeping life simple, and pleasant, and in-the-moment. It feels good. We continue to take things one day at a time. We are cautiously optimistic. We (my family and I) feel your love, and your support, and your prayers and we appreciate them so much. I didn’t know if I could continue to blog throughout this period, and yet this blog turned out to be a saving grace for me, many days, while I was going through some real darkness. And you, my beloved readers, helped to pull me out of that dark place many times, just by being here. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are appreciated and loved, more than you know.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I love your cautious optimism!
How is your son’s attitude?
I’ve always thought that it’s more difficult for the bystanders than it is for the person who is experiencing the actual physical trauma. They know what they are feeling, while their loved ones can only empathetically imagine what they are going through. I think it’s especially hard for us moms because we care more than anyone else.
He is amazing. I am in awe of my son. He has moments, as we all do, but then he just gets back up, one forward motion at a time. 🙂
Hi Kelly. Thank you for the generous update. It’s so good that your son is doing a bit better. He’s lucky to have you, as I’m sure he knows. In this season of gratitude, may I say that I’m grateful to people like you who share your wisdom and your life with a community of strangers-turned-friends…and also grateful to the medical community who has helped your son and your family during this time.
Me, too, Gail, me too! <3