I've long considered Epilepsy as a sign of weakness. Who wouldn't? I've had a lot of my freedoms taken away from me, freedoms that most would consider commonplace for a man my age.
Through all of this I've had a strong support system of family and friends. Just last week, a friend from college commented on a blog post that I'm "way stronger than I even know." It's comments like these that keep my pen to paper. I appreciate my readership. I look everyday to see if my blog has gotten any "hits," and everyday they're in the double-digits. So, overwhelmingly, thank you.
Epilepsy as a sign of weakness is an easy post to write because I'm so familiar with this feeling, but if I thought of my strength I probably couldn't get past the first sentence. I can only say that I've come a long way with little results, my body is in shambles, but there is still air in my lungs. My Dad would say something like that.
I remember last year after being taken to the ER in Beloit, I was coming out of the Ketamine coma and all that came out of my mouth to the Police Officer was accolades of my Dad and how I knew I would never have his courage or strength. My sisters and I think of him as a super hero. He fought in a war, was a cop, and survived a terrible car accident all before he hit 40. I mean, he has the scars to show for it, but his positive attitude is what makes him our hero.
Maybe I do have a little of his courage and strength in me and that's what makes me his son. I know that there's a long, winding, muddy path in front of me but if I look back at these past five years, I'd see no path at all, just a pit from which I have just climbed out.