We have made a lot of trips to the pharmacy.
Epilepsy will do that.
Today was the day we picked up what we hope is our son’s last prescription.
The last one.
As in seizure-free and soon-to-be medication-free.
As in exhilarating and terrifying.
With every pill, we inch closer to the day–the day when science tells us he is eligible to be free.
But also the day when our hearts will beat with worry that he will once again be vulnerable.
A time to exhale and a time to hold our breath.
A rite of passage, a celebration for our son.
But something quite different for us.
These pills have been our normal.
They have been what stopped the seizures, what saved him.
And while we wish he never had need for them in the first place, we can’t imagine what life would have been like if not for them.
Saying goodbye to them should be so easy.
But it’s not.
Nothing about this has been easy.
But in a few months’ time, as this bottle empties, our son will begin this next phase.
And we will be by his side–as we have for every step–needing him to guide us now more than ever.