We see Kurt’s doctor today. I can’t help but think of the past. Seven years of uncontrolled seizures, a five-week coma that finally stopped the seizures, and Kurt’s continued progress there after.
His neurologist has been with us throughout. We have a history together. When the doc tells me his thoughts and his eyes gaze upon me with intense sincerity, I feel grateful he is Kurt’s doctor.
We both look at Kurt’s med list with caution. He takes three different anti-seizure meds, 18 pills in all each day. Do we change anything to reduce side effects? Are we brave enough to do that? Or should we leave well enough alone rather than avoid a seizure that could lead to more and more?
Besides the scary thoughts, visiting the doctor’s office is like a family reunion. The nurses look at Kurt as if he’s their favorite nephew, fondly remembering his stubborn disposition at three-years-old and commenting on how much he’s grown in the past 16 years. And I’m comforted by their compassion.
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