My mom’s been telling me that I need to write an entry. She mentioned it when she was in town last month, then on the phone a week ago, then in an email yesterday. I miss your updates! I check on the site and nothing’s changed! She even gave me topic suggestions, which I think is the teacher in her coming out: You could always talk about how I beat cancer and my hair is coming back!
(I know. She’s adorable.)
So, guys: MY MOM BEAT CANCER AND HER HAIR IS COMING BACK!
(She enclosed that picture in case I wanted to lead with it.)
(I KNOW. SHE’S ADORABLE.)
She is adorable and my dad is great, and we saw a lot of them recently– they came down several weekends in a row. Let me break here to be real with you: stuff sucked a lot for a couple months, then everything got better at once. And when things got better, I didn’t want to write about it. I just wanted to enjoy it. I felt like the situation with Addie’s seizures was really– lousy– and while it helped a little to share, it also made it more real; like this is really happening. You’re forced to face it head-on. And it hurts to open up about raw topics. Sometimes you’re just done, you know? You just want some space and silence.
Where we are now with all that:
Addie went up on her Lamictal about three weeks ago. First she had more seizures (a lot), then gradually less. Right now we’re down to one or none a night. I’m almost afraid to talk about it because I don’t want to jinx it. Everything has been one step forward, two steps back, so with this first sign of two steps forward and NO steps back– I just want to revel in it, and not let the universe realize we’re getting ahead. Heh.
She still has an appointment coming up in about a month. We’ll see about medications then. About the surgery. At this point, I’d like a permanent fix if one’s available. It’d be so great for her to be able to get into the ocean this summer. That’s what I keep focusing on: being able to go to the beach without fear of her seizing and drowning.
Besides that, yeah.
Everything is wonderful.
Jason’s job seems to be going well. He’s exercising. I’m exercising. We started taking supplements together. Every morning in our house is just drug central, seriously. Addie’s prescriptions get doled out first (two pills, two syringes, twice a day), and then Eli gets some magnesium and vitamins. J and I have a plethora of ish we’re taking: caffeine, green tea, fish oil, l-carnitine, CLAs, cordygen. (PS: let me interject here– I resisted trying fish oil for almost two years. I felt like– you know, I’m a vegetarian. It’s just wrong. So FINALLY gave in this week… And everything they say is true: it’s amazing. My skin is already worlds improved.)
So I’ve been doing that. Working out. Pill-popping. Heh. We’ve been celebrating birthdays– both males had theirs in the last month. They both celebrated the same way, too: video games and Cheesecake Factory. When the weather’s sunny, we’re all outside. When we’re stuck indoors, we get creative with entertainment. One day we sewed animals out of lost socks. Another day we built a shadow puppet theater and put on plays. We read books. We color. We play weird games. Addie made up one that’s just rolling checker pieces across the table, rapid-fire. It’s not even a game. It’s just plastic warfare. We did that for like THIRTY MINUTES, laughing and screaming.
Everything is great. We have our health right now, and we have each other. That’s all the important stuff.
And we’ve been SLEEPING. Oh God. SLEEP. I didn’t even know how much I missed it until I got a full eight hours, and it was like coming out of a depressive fog. The world had new colors. Things make sense again. That first night Addie got through without a seizure, her eyes were so clear. She didn’t slur her speech. She wasn’t irritated. She had no trouble focusing. Her schoolwork improved. Her attitude improved. Everything’s gotten better by leaps and bounds.
It was SO encouraging to see that, because for months we’ve been living with this cranky, distracted, foreign version of Addie. You tell yourself it’s the medicine, you tell yourself it’s the seizures. You tell yourself it’s not her. You believe it, because you need to believe it. So when she actually started to come out of it– when the Lamictal afforded her rest, curtailed her seizures, offered her some clarity and peace– it was like YES, yes, AWESOME. I was right. It really wasn’t her. It WASN’T my kid all this time. She’s still the little girl I remember under there. Still sweet and silly. Still smart, still funny, still creative. We have our Old Addie back after all these months, and I couldn’t be happier.
I don’t know. Yeah, I’m just HAPPY. I don’t know if it’s the sunshine, the ninety-four pills, or the fact that it’s Friday and my family will be home soon, but I am HAPPY.
I wake up happy. I go to sleep happy. My heart, my home, my days: they’re all full. They’re brimming. I wish I had more time to write, but I decided for now– it isn’t that important. It can keep. I can spend time enjoying this season in my life, or I can spend time narrating it.
Guess which is infinitely better.