One minute I would be laughing about something and saying, "You know, I oughta post about this!" The next, I'd be grateful that I didn't feel as though I HAD to post about that; to just be able to relish the moment, and move on without recording it.
But I miss writing.
So much has happened in my life since September 25th. There's probably no way I could go back and remember all the highlights of the past 4 months in a way that would make you feel a part of them. I'd be surprised if I could even recall the events themselves, never mind the details. But for your sakes (and mine, when it comes to archiving), I'm going to try. So here's a short list:
-We went to Campmeeting in September
-Chris was laid off in November
-Gabe turned 1 in December
-Chris started college full-time at the beginning of January
-My cousin AND my sister-in-law were married this past weekend
I've been very faithful to read other people's blogs, in case you were wondering. No, I haven't always been much of a commenter, but many of you got a little note from me here and there. There's something pretty incredible about blogging and the blogger community in general. As long as it's kept in it's place, blogging can be a wonderful outlet and source of information (useful AND useless). I never intended to not be a part of that, but for awhile, I just needed to be an innocent bystander. Just a reader.
And thank God for the readers.
Because so many of you have been a source of comfort and happiness and intrigue to me over the past 2+ years. Your simple words of love or laughter are worth checking my email for. Every time. Thanks for being patient with me.
Time heals all wounds, you know.
And just like a doctor takes stitches to close a gash on your arm, I took some stitches and sealed up my heart. This was no superficial cut. No scrape, scratch, small bruise. It was a whopper of a boo-boo, if you will. And I just knew that leaving it open would expose me to too much infection, and too much input, and too much pain in the end. Closing up was a must.
You'll forgive me if I seemed to overreact, won't you? You'll have to put yourself in my shoes, I guess.
Because now I can talk about it. It doesn't bother me like it did before, and for that I'm thankful. But time has had a lot to do with it as well. Life has moved on. That wound is not raw anymore. The stitches are long gone, and the scab is gone as well.
Now, there's just a faint scar that remains....
September, Asher had another seizure.
He had not been sick, he had not had a fever. He was playing, and he fell and had a grand mal seizure. My world about stopped.
And I think I hid it well. It was MY nightmare--mine and Chris'. And I just needed to close up. No one else needed the burden, in my mind.
See, it was MORE than just a seizure. Not only was it a seizure without a fever (which, is more problematic, of course), but Chief thought it could potentially be genetic considering Michaela's medical history. And out of all the tests (genetic and otherwise) that she has had done over the years, this particular disease he had in mind she had never been tested for. Essentially, the disease starts as a fever seizure and then about 6 weeks later, the child would have another seizure that was not fever-related. After that, the seizures would come more often and the child would essentially lose their ability to do X, Y and Z.
You know, like Michaela has.
So, we decided to have her tested after Asher had his initial fever seizure. To see if their seizures were genetically linked. I was fairly confident that this disease was not what Asher had. I mean, tons of kids have fever seizures. It really wasn't a big deal. However, seeing as how Michaela has such a bad seizure history, I thought Chief's idea of running the test would be a good idea. You know, just to rule it out. So we ran the test and had to wait 6 weeks.
Sometime during that waiting period, Ash had the second seizure. The one NOT fever related.
6 weeks to the day he had the fever seizure.
Like I said, my world stopped.
God says, "I won't give you more than you can handle." and "My grace is sufficient for you." And I believe those words. But there have been plenty of times when I would tell God, "You have a much higher opinion of me than you ought to! I really can't handle THIS much!"
The repercussions of that seizure just never seemed to end in the week after it happened. See, when Michaela was little, we never knew what we were up against. We always had hope that she would get better. That the seizures would get under control in time, and then she'd flourish again, back to her very intelligent, very capable little self. By the time the bomb of her diagnosis hit, we were already in the trenches with a full battle plan. We grew into her regression. We were clueless until her disease is what our lives had already become.
But that luxury would not be there with Asher. If he had that dreadful disease (and by this time, I was pretty convinced even without the results being in), then I knew the road ahead of me. I started mourning that day. All the little smiles and boyish things he did, all the words he would say, and all the years we would see those things melt away. I contemplated them all. I watched him endlessly it seemed, just trying to soak it all in and remember how he "was."
And I worried about Gabe. Seeing as how this seizure monster would be genetic, then there was the potential for Gabe to be affected too (I wasn't worried about the other children, as they were past the age range for it to show up). It was just too much. I tried to put that thought out of my mind for the time being, but the notion just became another facet in a huge realm of awful possibilities.
So, in light of all this, I did the only thing I could think to do:
I stitched up my bleeding heart with positive thinking, prayed that God would steel my mind for the future, and tried to march on like nothing was wrong.
But I couldn't blog. I just couldn't.
Six weeks after Michaela's blood work was sent off, it came back.
It is Chief's thought that Asher's seizure was nothing more than an isolated incident. Fever seizures, like the first one, and regular seizures, like the second, are diagnosed in different categories. They are not considered related. And each category allows for a person to experience ONE seizure of that type without being officially diagnosed or treated. It's like getting a freebie, if you will.
And as Chief said: "He's had his freebie."
And he hasn't had another one since then.
Life is back to normal now in so many ways. I'm just being a mom, and taking care of the house, and we're homeschooling, and just doing life. All the children are doing well--nothing to complain about, and Chris is well too.
As for my heart, you can't really tell that I went through this 4 months ago. I laugh as much as I used to, and I don't stay awake at night.
But if you look close....really close.....you'll see a faint line where that gash was. And if you're quick enough, you may see my startled reaction every time Asher falls down randomly or makes a strange snorting sound. You may even hear my heart skip a beat.
Because some scars, you have for life.