surgeons cut into my brain to try to cure my epilepsy. While I’m scared for my kids I’m not scared for myself because when your life could be short you live it loud and happy. So, bye for now. See you on the other side
So it’s time for the rubber to hit the road.In 30 minutes I go down for brain surgery – awake brain surgery – to try and cure me of the epilepsy which has plagued my life since I was 19.
The odds aren’t great. As my psych here tells me, the price you pay to enter the casino of neuro-surgery is uncertainty. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.But what I do know is that as it stands, one day my epilepsy will get the better of me. And I am not prepared to sit around and wait for that day to come.My children are 11, 10 and 7. I’ve waited. Waited until I feel they are old enough to be brave and smart enough to remember the things I want them to know.Like why girls are weird and why our most important job as a family is to stick together. How we are all different, but fitting in doesn’t make better than the rest. Or how we need to laugh every day, because nothing matters so much that it can’t be funny.
Why you should never stand too close to people at cashpoints or be afraid to talk to the drunk man up the road. He has wisdom and is not afraid to share it.That verrucas eventually go away on their own and you never need to wear a weird white sock and look like a plonker. And why learning your spelling for homework is really important but that learning what those words mean matters more.And even if you can trick Grandma into thinking you have cleaned your teeth, you can’t trick the dentist and he’s the one with the pliers.