Or, at the very least, if it were, it shouldn’t have come for another five or six years.
But instead it came today.
Today at 4:25 PM in an eight-by-eight-foot examination room at Rhode Island Hospital.
The neurologist who has been by my son’s side since she met him in the emergency room after his first grand mal seizure in October 2011, looked at me and used the past tense to describe his epilepsy.
She said “had.”
Had . . . as in no longer.
It’s her theory, based on the substantial medical evidence she has been collecting, that he had it, and as quickly as it came, it went–faster than anyone could ever have anticipated, but gone nonetheless. She said children can and do grow out of it–though usually not this fast. But here we are.
So, we are going to move toward eliminating his anti-seizure medicine altogether.
And with a little luck and a whole lot of good intentions, had will be our new reality.
And tonight. for the first time in my life, I finally and completely understand what is meant by the sublime.