Ya'know how when you can't find the right words to write or say for yourself but there you go in a comment on someone else's blog post or a scrawl in the card you finally remember to send or a spill to a stranger in the elevator? It comes out and you're like, oh there it is.
We are at Children’s today for what should be a very routine EEG but still, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to face this part of my life. It’s not coming easy. I mean, my body goes here. And somehow I managed to drive the car here, but the rest of me is somewhere else seeking shelter and safety.
Taking a ten year old to have an EEG is a lot different than taking a three year old. He doesn't remember any of it, so now it's all new and scary. Again. The past few weeks leading up to this have been emotional and I feel awful because all this time he's not understood, and I could have prepared him more. Last night he was worried that the EEG would be able to read his thoughts. The more I type here the more I plan to delete some of this post. But I just want to see if I can get rid of some words. Bless his heart.
Mostly I didn't want to even mention the occasion but we have always been open about Noah's epilepsy and I feel it's important to be. It isn't a secret - unfortunately for him for the rest of his life others need to be aware, and I wish he didn't have to wear that badge but- fortunately for the circumstances he can add a lot more charm to the disease. I'm not going to share any other personal details that go along with it or anything, as I imagine neither would you. But, the word epilepsy is used and understood around these parts and it's not ever said in a shameful whisper. It's a matter of fact. Carter asked this morning why he didn't get epilepsy. It was a nice way of asking why it happened to Noah.
When he was younger I used to crawl up in the hospital bed with him oh who are we kidding I crawled up in there and snuggled in tight with him today. That is when I feel centered and safe to the core, just like going back in time. We could have hid under those white covers forever would it be possible. We are both exhausted.
If they gave report cards for EEGs, he got an A+ with extra credit. The all-clear. We are sent home. He is so happy and confesses that wasn't bad at all! I think maybe he even had fun. We rock it out on the way home. People watch us from passing cars on the Dan Ryan but we do not care. Make it or break it, we're gonna take it and jam, Sam. Feeling sorry for yourself is so five minutes ago.
He played me songs on his iPod. This one, thankfully at a long stoplight so that I could stare off in the other direction so that he did not see the burning water falling from my eyes. Oh no not now the breakdown! Let us get home. Let me be the strong one for just a little while. Let me let go so I can watch it go past.