But I left some out.
Ones that I can't really say that I am happy about.
And those decided to come back and remind me of their presence with a passionate fury.
Right before we left Missouri I stumbled upon a blog called "Texting my Pancreas". As someone who has been diabetic for almost 20 years now, I enjoyed the humor she was able to find in living with the day to day annoyances of the technology connected to diabetes. Trust me, I am grateful for the technology. It certainly makes my life easier - but at the same time, it is a lot to keep track of too! The whole theme behind the title, someone thinking that her insulin pump was a phone and that she was texting during dinner - that is my life.
That was one name I left off the list. It stays constant, and usually under control. Diabetes comes with ups and downs. Low blood sugars make me dizzy, woozy and often silly. High blood sugars make me lethargic, depressed and often grumpy.
However, after 20 years, I like to think I am pretty good at being diabetic.
But epileptic, that is still new.
I have a hard time even claiming that name, that title. Three years- They started in July 2008 and that first year was filled with "auras" and an unsure diagnosis. The second year was off with a bang, with a full scale grande mal seizure just days after Andy returned from Afghanistan, and still unsure of an exact diagnosis. This third year I had finally adjusted to meds, felt comfortable driving short distances again and wasn't as exhausted all the time.
But last week my body decided to throw that all out the window.
My official diagnosis is "localized partial seizures". I am on enough medicine that my body continues to function most of the time even when a partial seizure occurs. I sometimes "blank out" for 2-3 seconds, but most of the time no one but those who love me most would even notice.
But for some reason last week my brain got overwhelmed and decided that my medicine wasn't enough anymore. I had several "blank outs" on Tuesday, longer then usual - more like 10-12 seconds. Which doesn't sound like much, but it makes you afraid to drive. Because of the meds I can function during an "aura", but it hurts like crazy. It is so much easier to close my eyes!
On Wednesday though something more then usual happened. Whatever misfired in there made my memory go away for several hours. And that is terrifying.
I knew my parents, sisters, children and oh, how I clung to the thought of Andy. And somehow, two of my best friends stayed real. But everything, and everyone, else was gone. I was asking my mom to tell me about the birth of my children, because I couldn't remember. I could see a picture of my wedding on the wall in my parent's living room - but I couldn't remember my wedding. Even the two friends that I could remember, I made mom tell me how I knew them, how I met them, why they were my best friends. I couldn't remember why, I just knew that they were.
My dad put the boys to bed for me, and I laid on my mom's lap and cried. Little by little my world came back to me. I sat in bed later that night and looked at pictures, absorbing as many faces as I could. People that I truly could not find only a few hours earlier. People that I LOVE.
Terrifying. I cannot say that enough.
On thursday morning I was still a little foggy, but functioning. We called the Neurologist I used to see when I lived here and he called in a new drug for me.
Mom dropped everything for the weekend and took me to Columbus so I could see Andy at Airborne school. I knew that it was all just a misfire in my brain. I had talked to him on the phone, heard his voice, made sure he was real. He even took the time to talk about stupid college memories, when all he really wanted to do was complain about jumping out of towers.
But I really needed to see him. I am slightly addicted...
So here I am, a refried brain, new meds once again, and getting ready to move in just one week.
Epileptic is one of my titles, a name that belongs to me, and I will remember that next time I describe myself. It doesn't have to be negative. It doesn't have to drag me down. (although with the first new medicine the doc gave me last week everything sent me into a fit of crying... so it definitely "dragged me down"! Drug #2 seems to be working better) In fact, I will try, try, to remember to praise Him for it.
"Your love, oh Lord, reaches to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, Your justice like the great deep. Oh Lord, you preserve both man and beast." Psalm 36:5-6
I am who I am. And that is a lot to keep track of! Praise God for technology, for family, for my beautiful addiction who loves me back, and most of all that I can trust HIM to take me where I am supposed to be. Memories are beautiful. I am so thankful for them. But what I look for, more importantly, are the ones to come. Those old, overused saying are around for a good reason... because they mean something. So I will say with feeling, "Tomorrow is a gift". I will open it with joy, live it with faith, and close it with the hope of another to come.
That is all I can ask for.
"Every good gift and perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17
Please, remember to appreciate every memory, and every moment that is becoming a memory for later.