Today I write with a heavy heart and a mind unsettled. After nearly 22 months of freedom from seizures, I had a nasty one last week. I was washing my face and my husband heard the crash of me falling down in the bathroom. I awoke to his concerned face over me, asking if I knew what day it was and what we had planned. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed this to be another nightmare.
Alas, I had to face reality and acknowledge the demons rearing their ugly heads again.

Just like always, there’s no rhyme or reason here. Was it the bitter cold I’d been out in the day before? Was my sleep disturbed or unsettled? I didn’t have any change in routine or anything drastically different than the usual.

I’ve cried a lot this week, and my tears haven’t run dry yet. I absolutely HATE the burden this places on my hubby and people close to me. I can handle not driving, I remind myself. I did it for 16 years, 3 months will pass in a flash. I’m back on the medication I’d weaned off back in August, and if it’s a lifelong drug, so be it.

Over the years I’ve learned the value of being real, of airing my dirty laundry, as it were. And I refuse to let epilepsy define me. It is not who I am! – it is a battle I fight (and win!)- and I’m too stubborn to let it keep me down.
So join me in prayer and with a bullheaded determination, friends. And if you’re able and willing, I’ll let you drive me around town too💕