Terrified In My Own Home, Afraid Of My Own Dog
It’s day four of Beau’s medication and we have had good days and bad days… more like good minutes and bad minutes. When Beau gets his dose of Phenobarbital, he’s really out of it and trips over himself for about 2-3 hours after. Every night this week I’ve had to leave the house because watching him like that breaks my heart and I don’t want him to see me upset. I’ve sat in my car in parking lots and just bawled my eyes out. Feeling hopeless. Lost. Heartbroken.
Not knowing when the next seizure is going to occur (if at all) may be the hardest part. For someone with anxiety disorder, such unpredictability is life-altering. As much as I want to be there for Beau, I find myself trying to escape our new reality. I feel least comfortable when I’m in my house with him. Of course, that’s where he has had all his seizures. And while I know that Beau could have a seizure any where at any time, I prefer to be outside with him… or in the car… driving a 2-mile radius around the vet’s office. Just in case.
As he bumps into things as he walks, falls over on the couch, and crashes into the front door when going to bark at someone on a bicycle, I can’t help but think about how life was just a couple of weeks ago. And how much our lives have completely changed now. Forever.
I’ve connected with other “Epi moms” and many have expressed the same feelings as me. It’s comforting to know that we’re not alone in this. But it doesn’t make it easier for me to handle on a daily basis. I find myself wondering if the tears will ever stop. Or if I’ll ever be able to look at my boy the same way again. The truth is that I don’t know.
Once the side effects of the drugs wear off, Beau should be able to regain his balance and get back to his routine. But his mommy is always going to be wondering what’s going on in his little mind… and whether or not his brain is going to cooperate with him.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.