{"id":6055,"date":"2025-09-27T21:17:57","date_gmt":"2025-09-28T04:17:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/?p=6055"},"modified":"2025-09-28T09:49:14","modified_gmt":"2025-09-28T16:49:14","slug":"the-unspoken-parts-of-the-puzzle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/?p=6055","title":{"rendered":"The Unspoken Parts of the Puzzle"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

On seizures, silence, and the quiet strength of love<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Living in a home where life-limiting illness abounds, it\u2019s easy to forget about the quieter pieces of our puzzle\u2014especially those that haven\u2019t been on center stage for a decade or more. When I married this strong southern man, I knew he had a seizure disorder. But it was so well controlled by medication that we hardly spoke of it. There was just that one time, shortly after he came here, when he had a grand mal seizure. We chalked it up to an issue with not taking his meds, and soon returned to our fairytale world of happy endings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even his first neurologist thought he probably didn\u2019t need any of his many anti-seizure medications. He suggested Michael could fast-track stopping all of them. Instead, we chose a gentler path\u2014discontinuing only the Depakote, because in his fifties the risk of liver failure was too high. Kepra, though, was safe, and we kept it in place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two years later, we almost let ourselves believe the neurologist was right. Maybe he didn\u2019t have seizures anymore. And then the unthinkable happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can\u2019t describe the horror of an epiluctus seizure. The gasping sounds of a body fighting for air, the guttural terror of minutes that stretch into lifetimes. The aftermath of unresponsiveness\u2014what felt like forever on the phone with paramedics, then hours in the ER with my eldest by his side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The truth is, he doesn\u2019t remember any of it. Only \u201cwaking up\u201d at the hospital. And the deeper truth is, he doesn\u2019t talk about it. Not ever. People use the word seizure casually, sometimes as a joke about dancing or sneezing, and those offhand comments cut to the core. Because he knows. He knows how dangerous his condition is. He knows the next time could carry him further than he can return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tonight in the kitchen, Martha gently told Michael what had happened. She said, \u201cYou were afraid, and you kept locking eyes on Karma. Each time you pulled away from the paramedics\u2019 touch, she reached out and held your hand. She calmly explained that you had a seizure, that the strangers in the room were there to help, and you kept focusing on her face as she reassured you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Michael listened quietly. He said that in his earlier hospital experiences back east, everything had often been a blur \u2014 quick visits, quick discharges, medical teams who didn\u2019t always stay long enough to really understand what was happening. This time felt different. This time, he had someone he could focus on and trust in the midst of the chaos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Martha said softly, \u201cYou have that now.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later, when we were alone, Michael turned to me and said simply, \u201cIt means I love you deeply.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>
\n

And so today has been a day of rest, if not recovery. Little Shelby sleeping on his chest, her small body rising and falling with his. She is the only other one in this house who knows first-hand what he went through. Even though she\u2019s been free of seizures for the better part of a year, I am sadly reminded that her future too is unknowable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I returned to watch the rhythm of their breathing together to bring me back to this present moment, which is all we really ever have. I smiled as I looked at them and saw that she fits so well into the quiet puzzle pieces of this strong man\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And maybe I do too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On seizures, silence, and the quiet strength of love Living in a home where life-limiting<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":6056,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[12,9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6055","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-dharma","category-talking-paws"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/8f1316c0-da25-4d86-8b97-3b2c6e313d05.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6055","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6055"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6055\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6062,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6055\/revisions\/6062"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/6056"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6055"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6055"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.karmabytes.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6055"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}