Dad's Turn

I've heard it through the grapevine (i.e. my mother) that there have been some requests to have a post from me, Dad. Laura is a talented writer, and we usually discuss what she's going to write about, so it's not to say I'm not involved in the blog, I'm just not the person writing it. That being said, Laura also thought it would be a good idea to share with all of you my perspective regarding Dominic's journey.

It's hard to believe he's only ten months old. He's been through more medically than I've been through my entire life. People have often asked me how I deal with this and still get up every morning, go to work, and try to push through the day. To be honest, some days it's very difficult. If Dominic's been up all night having seizures, not only am I sleep deprived, but my mind the next day is constantly thinking about him. The only thing I can say is that you learn to adapt. I still need to provide for my family. These have been the cards that we've been dealt. I can either sulk in my own misery, feeling sorry for myself and Dominic (which I have on many occasions), or I can push through it, putting one foot in front of the other. I try to do my part as a father. I've particularly tried to give Mitchell some much needed attention. Laura and Dominic are constantly running to therapy sessions and doctor visits. He spends a good deal of time at the nanny or with family members. I try to play with him as much as possible, knowing that Dominic has been a focus for me and Laura for most of the year. Again, you just try to put one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. I try to do what I can and give the rest to God.

Many people have commented to both Laura and I that they admire us for our faith during this trial. To be honest, there have been countless times during these past 8 months where my faith has been shaken. At times, I've been very angry at God. There have been countless nights where I've laid in bed and said, "God, if you want to heal him, you could do it right now. What do I need to say to make that happen? Give me the seizures. Let me deal with the pain and not this baby." I've seen other people with healthy children and there's a part of me that says, "Why have we been handed this cross? I should be helping my son learn to sit up and crawl instead of giving him an injection in his thigh." However, I keep coming back to my faith, because that's all I have left. I read a book called "The Promise: God's Purpose and Plan For When Life Hurts." I'd highly recommend it. Life is full of trials. No one is immune to suffering in this lifetime. Dominic has taught me so much about suffering. Many times he comes out of seizure and he gives me that angelic smile of his, as if to say, "It's okay dad, we'll get through this." Our faith teaches us that God can bring great good out of times of trial and suffering. Look at the Resurrection. That continues to be my hope today. On our homepage, we've listed the verse from Isaiah where the Lord says that he will raise us up with his victorious RIGHT hand. I find it ironic that Dom's weak side is his right. He may not ever have fine motor skills in that hand. I may not understand why we are dealing with this, but a greater good will come out of it, either in this life, or the next. God does have a plan, and it is good.

Shifting gears a little bit, I also wanted to take this time to say that I really don't know how I could have gone through these past 8 months without my wife. If you haven't noticed, she's awesome. She is the one constantly giving medications, tending to Dominic's and Mitchell's needs, dealing with doctors, nurses and insurance companies. She has more knowledge of Dominic's condition than most resident doctors. Her strength and example through all of this has been incredible. It's funny, when Dr. Chugani first met Laura, she knew so much about Dominic's condition that he asked her if she worked in the medical field. Nope, that's just Laura.

Well, tomorrow is the big day. I wouldn't say that I'm nervous, just very anxious to get this over with. I'm ready to give Dominic a seizure-free life, even if that means living with half a brain. I'm ready to see him off medication. I'm ready to see him grow up, even if it means walking with a limp or being behind in some of his subjects. We have no other alternative. I'm ready to kick these seizures out of our house and tell them never to come back. People have said that it must be a tough decision to go ahead with this surgery. My response has been, "It's a no-brainer."