I was talking with a nonprofit partner - and friend - recently.  In addition to running a nonprofit, she is the parent to a young man severely affected by epilepsy and autism.  She was telling me that she had had an awful weekend as her son’s challenges were particularly thoroughly expressed the past Saturday. She had been at a park with him, and in leaving, she backed right into a tree. And she just kept right on moving. I had done a similar thing a week or so before – swiped a pole causing damage to my bumper.  Neither of us had even given it a second thought save for to notice the damage – hours later - and inwardly comment, “Well that’s too bad.” Before living with epilepsy, the damage to our cars might have been paramount, requiring immediate action and repair.  It’s some weeks ago now.  I’m not sure if she’s had her car repaired; I have not. 

Living with epilepsy has a way of helping you reprioritize, maybe not because you want to, maybe because you need to, and maybe that’s not all bad. Gone are the days of steam-cleaning the grout on the bathroom tile and overthinking menus when guests are to come.  It will work out.  We (try to) focus on the things that matter, and if the kids want to wear mismatched socks (but they’re ready for school in clean clothes, good night’s sleep, and nourished), ok. If the bills are paid, but we didn’t mulch this year.  If it’s 7P, and you just can’t go on one more minute.  If the needed meds are here, and we need to get take out for dinner. Epilepsy taught us to prioritize our priorities, and you know what? That’s a side effect of epilepsy with which we are happy to live.