Compared to others, I know I’m very lucky, but the concussions really stink.
And the anxiety never goes away.
Sometimes my hands shake so much, I look like I’m leading a symphony. (Without a baton.) Legs too, I have to sit down.
Maybe you panic before a test, the very fear of having a seizure, social rejection, job anxieties, debt, fear of failure, an anticipated argument, holidays, fear of flying.
Or the daunting prospect of being alone without any support system. Or even death itself.
There are probably as many kinds of stress and panic attacks as there are those of us who suffer from them.
They forget that we live 365 days or 8,760 hours a year with our illness…
We see them for four 30 minute visits or 2 hours in that year while we’re struggling…
We spend time planning in anticipation of this precious, important moment…
Compared to others, I know I’m very lucky, but the concussions really stink.
And the anxiety never goes away.
Fear. Screaming. Visions. Bright lights flashing. Hallucinations. Tongue biting. Pain. Paralysis. Pins and needles. Bed wetting.
Do any of these sound familiar?
One person described it as: “During the nightmares, I often get up and run out of the room screaming while still asleep, as if something is chasing me.”
It’s agony. And there’s little to explain it or stop it in its tracks.
There is no “welcome” sign to the world of childhood brain surgery. And the resulting combination of fear, shock, and pain is almost too much to bear.
No amount of preparation or knowledge can help to ease or minimize the situation.
But preparing a child for surgery emotionally, is one of the most important things you can do. Surgery, without proper explanations and preparation, can traumatize a child…