I usually love this time of year. I love the entire Christmas season. The parties, the goodies, the lights and decorations, and of course all the bling. This year is different. To sum it up I’m just not feeling it. In all honesty I wish I could hibernate until after New Year’s. The last 6 months have been simply awful, and no matter how hard I try I just don’t have the energy to really care about Christmas this year. I kind of feel like I’m being dragged along by the rest of my family to this and that. If it weren’t for the kids I would probably just try to ignore it. When John had his surgery I thought that would solve the problems with the seizures. The day I brought my husband home, I should have been happy. Instead, I was terrified. I brought him home and his mood was terrible. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone so that’s pretty much what I did for that week. He spent nearly all of his time in bed away from everyone, and I took over everything. I took out the trash, cleaned up, did all the laundry, paid the bills, and took care of the kids. All with very little help. I tried my best to stay positive for the kids and thought it would save my own sanity. Finding positives, even small ones was the only thing I had to cling to at the time. By the end of the week I didn’t even want to be home. It was less stressful for myself and the kids if we just went out. Through all of this I was on the phone with the dr’s office literally every other day telling them something wasn’t right. I had been doing my best to lean on God and keep telling myself that everything would be fine eventually. I took on my new role dutifully and mostly without complaining. After all, brain surgery i pretty major and the recovery is slow and long.
Exactly one week after he came home I woke up about 7:30 AM to find my husband having a seizure. I immediately called the dr to find out what to do. They told me if he had another one I needed to bring him back to the hospital right away. Sure enough, a little while after the first one ended he had another one. I called 911 and called my parents to have them come over as soon as possible to watch the kids. My neighbor across the street was getting ready to take her kids somewhere, but she came over when she saw my husband being loaded into the ambulance. She hugged me as I just sobbed. Right there in the middle of my driveway. When I arrived at the hospital they informed me that he had had yet a third seizure in the ambulance. It’s barely 10 minutes from our house to the hospital. I went downstairs to get some coffee, and when I came back they had taken him to get a CT. As they were wheeling him back to the ER room, I saw him having a fourth seizure. At that point I broke down and lost what little positivity I had left. He was conscious, but in no way coherent. He spent the entire day completely out of it and I spent the entire day attempting to salvage whatever faith I could muster. I called the pastor and told him I didn’t feel like I could pray anymore. My world fell apart that day and I’m still picking up the pieces. I feel like I can barely think about the day to day things that I have to do, let alone Christmas. As selfish as it may sound I just don’t have the mental capacity to fully enjoy the holidays.