Eight years ago today I was fixing something in the bathroom of our townhouse. When I finished I walked out into the front room, looked at my wife, and that’s really about all I can remember. The seizures just kept coming for months on end and nothing really seemed to help.
I missed a skimo race I had been training for all season and simultaneously let my partner down.
Today, I look back at that cluster event and marvel at all that’s transpired since. I’ve been seizure free for a seven years, so I can be super grateful for that. My wife and sons still love me and help take care of me when I need their assistance. My Mom and Dad have done every thing they could, up to and including moving from Colorado to my adoptive state of Washington, to be part of my life.
My life then and that ordeal seem today almost unreal, like they had nothing to do with the guy that sits here writing this account for you.