Waiting Room

So this waiting is really killing me.  You know when you go the grocery store, or the local “made in China” discount-department-store-that-shall-remain-nameless and you see the longest line-ups to check out? You know that feeling of dread of having to wait, standing on your feet, holding more items than you had originally intended to buy, knowing you spent more than two hundred dollars on nothing? That is a daily feeling for me. Only now this feeling is more like being in the waiting room at the dentist office and knowing your turn is next. You don’t know when it will happen, but it is coming and you sense it will be painful.  My heart is leaping out of my chest, I cannot sleep, and I am riding an emotional roller coaster that I cannot exit from.  I do not want to keep my head, hands and feet in the cart at all times! Let me off this terrifying ride!

Now despite all that I have told you above, in some weird little way, I also thrive in this space. When I was pregnant with my first-born, I was, like most new mothers terrified of child birth. I guess the biggest fears are a) it’s going to hurt and b) something terrible might happen. Despite being scared of those two things, I loved every minute of it.  It was beyond my control. There was nothing I could do about it. I had to go through it no matter what.  One could say this is kind of like being on a roller coaster.  Once you are in, you have to go through it to get it over with.  I liked this feeling so much, I had another child. Even with the experience behind me from the first child, I still had the butterflies in my stomach and the nervous cold shivers. I can say with certainty, going through it made me a much braver and stronger person.

I would like to say that waiting to find out Pepper’s medical diagnosis is the same, but in this case, it is not.  The subtle difference is that this news could mean life-long struggle and hardship for all of us, and most importantly, our sweet little angel.  Even on our darkest days, when the clusters of seizures come and we wait for her to come back to us, I still hold that glimmer of hope that it is temporary and she will be totally fine.  And then I realize that I am selfishly trying to ease my own worry, and calm my mind, when the reality will affect our sweet innocent Pepper most. Today as our seizure count approaches what we believe to be around 267 seizures; we are starting to crest that hill. We don’t know if it’s a steep drop, or a plateau, but we’re almost at the top.  Hold on tight everyone; because we’re up next in the waiting room.