Memories of the past three years float around in my mind. As I sort through the trying and sunny times, it’s almost impossible to put all my feelings into words.
There is heartache for the loved ones I’ve lost along the way. There is fright and frustration for the storms I’ve had to face.
There is embarrassment for all the silly things I’ve managed to do. There is love and gratitude for the kindness and encouragement my family and friends have given me.
There is a sense of accomplishment for sticking it through. And there are fuzzy, warm motions stirring inside today, and I can’t help but smile.
It’s hard to believe that 365 days have come and gone, but the day is finally here!
Today, there is a purple sunrise, and it simply feels like a dream.
I’m one year seizure free!
It’s been two years since I last saw my neurosurgeon. Two VERY long years.
After my last visit, my doctor had me make my follow-up and MRI appointments in two years because everything was going according to plan. I was off my AEDs and had been seizure free for three years. He just wanted to make sure the dark spot in my MRI scan wasn’t anything to worry about.
Since the last time I saw him, I went from being three years seizure free to having frequent convulsive seizures. Epilepsy had woken up just like the white walkers did in Game of Thrones. The monster had decided it was time to rule again.
The ruling part never happened. I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. I got back on my meds, started figuring out my new seizure triggers and changed my routine to try to avoid them.
The first of the two years was the worst. I spent a lot of time at the neurology clinic. I got scrapes and bruises from my falls. I was exhausted and met more paramedics than I ever wanted to. I scared a lot folks and had to explain to them that I wasn’t crazy, although my husband and friends will tell you otherwise. 😉
Those two years came and went, and it was time for my MRI and to see my neurosurgeon again. For me, the worst part of getting seizures again isn’t just dealing with the entire ordeal. It’s having to tell those who’ve supported me along the way that the fight they thought was over isn’t. The sadness in their eyes hurts the most because I don’t want to see those amazing, wonderful people blue.
To them I say, I’m doing alright! My recent MRI shows no abnormalities. I’m close to re-reaching my one year milestone. Yes, the fight isn’t over, but I’m going to be fine. I still have a lot to do. I need to show the world that even people with holes in their head can do anything they set their mind to.
Just in case the title didn’t give it away, today is International Epilepsy Day!
What is International Epilepsy Day you might ask?
In 2015, the International Bureau for Epilepsy and the International League Against Epilepsy came together to provide a platform for people living with epilepsy to share their stories around the world. Now, the second Monday in February is designated to do just that.
Today, 120 countries advocate to spread awareness about this neurological disorder and fight to get legislative rights for people living with epilepsy. The goal is to educate, eliminate the public fear and stigma that comes with this disorder and encourage those living with epilepsy to live their life to the fullest.
Join the Epilepsy Community by helping us get #EpilepsyDay to trend on social media. Make Epilepsy Day successful so we can get better care, improved treatments and greater funds for much needed medical research.
Don’t know where to start? You can visit the International Epilepsy Day website to get some ideas.
Will you join me?
I could tell you that you’re the best friend any girl could ever ask for.
I could tell you that you’re the kindest person in the entire world.
I could tell you that you’re the strongest and loveliest person I know.
I could tell you all these things, but I’d only be saying what you already know.
Instead, I’ll tell you all the non-mushy things I’ve never said before.
You’re the most stubborn person I know. You simply won’t stop to rest.
You’re beyond scary. Those “What did you say?” eyes will always haunt me.
You’re a master lie detector. You’re the reason why I’m such a bad liar.
You’re crazy, weird and funny. You’re simply one of a kind.
You’re the wonderful woman I’ll always aspire to be.
Mom, I love you, and I hope you have a great birthday!