Worries.


I'm sat under the Gazebo in the garden whilst the rain is falling steadily. Normally the sound of rain relaxes me but today I cannot seem to switch my brain off. It's been quite a week around these parts. Three hospital appointments for James, an overnight EEG, a rather traumatic blood test and the start of medication. He isn't dealing with it very well. At the third hospital appointment in three days my little boy broke down. He clung onto me and cried. I think he had just had enough of doctors poking and prodding him, of sitting in waiting rooms and then listening to me answer the same questions over and over again. I've promised him that there are no more appointments for the next four weeks but to him that doesn't mean anything. All he knows is that I dragged him to two different hospitals three times and let loads of people stick needles in his hand and wires over his head and now twice a day I fill a syringe with some tasty red liquid that apparently tastes like Strawberry (but smells like Bakewells!) and ask him to drink it.




The past few days he's been angry and short tempered. All kids have their moments and James has never been an exception to that but this week it's been different. He gets angry over the slightest thing. I don't know if it's just the stress of everything that is happening to him right now or whether it is a side effect from his new medication. Either way, it makes me feel bad. I know that he has to take this medication. Seizures are dangerous and they need to be controlled but the idea that James is now a statistic. "A medicated child" makes me feel like I've failed him in some way. I feel sorry for him that he has to go through this and now be labelled as an "Epileptic". I don't want to feel sorry for him. Thousands of people all over the world suffer from this condition and lead normal lives. I'm worried in that feeling sorry for him will make me not only wrap him up in cotton wool but will also lead to me spoiling him because I feel bad.

It's both a blessing and a curse that he has no idea whats going on. I explained his appointments by telling him that he has funny turns. He thought that was great and his EEG, I told him was them checking how his brain works.. He had great delight in telling everyone that he was going for a brain test. I could tell him but then what is the point in him worrying about something that he doesn't understand nor can he control?

I'm worried about what will happen when Emilie is born. James is already going through so much and his little sister arriving is just another big change for him. I guess this is just one of those things that I have to take one day at a time and me working myself up into a state isn't going to help anyone or anything. This is my introduction into life with two children. The balancing act. Looking after two children who will both have different needs. Lets hope that I'm up to the challenge...





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