A friend requested that I share this particular entry from my personal journal. She said it really touched her, and she felt it would do the same for others.
I wrote this entry from my heart when my son, Brandon was 15, more than twenty years ago. His seizures, at that time were out of control. I was scared to death, and didn’t know how much longer Brandon would be around. I am happy to report that today Brandon is doing much better. Although there is still no cure or medication to stop Brandon’s seizures, fortunately with alternative treatments his seizures are less frequent and less severe.
He flies across the room as if he had been shot out of a cannon. He falls to the ground and shakes vigorously. He froths at the mouth as his eyes appear gray and hazy, the way a fish looks right after it has been pulled from the water.
Is he dead, I cry out inside. Please God don’t let him die, I sob from the deepest part of my soul.
As Brandon lies on the floor I hear him faintly say in a groggy voice, “Where am I, where am I?” Ever so slowly Brandon begins to pick his head up off the ground.
I know there may come a time when he will have had enough, and his body may not be able to get up. That breaks my heart, and yet at the same time it keeps me forever grateful.
For each and every day he lives I know it is a miracle, and I have known that since the day he was born.
Having seizures is bad enough, but the stigma attached can be even worse. Approximately 30% of people cannot control their seizures, even when taking their seizure medications.
We need to find a cure for epilepsy, and we need to find it now!
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