I'm shakin' in my (slipper) boots!

"I am afraid, yet fearless. For fearlessness is not the absence of fear, but the bravery to do it, anyway." -- Natalie R. Ladik

Fearless. This adjective is one that has been used to describe Kylie Lynn Perleberg very few times in the last 23 years. These rare occurences during which the label was used include: being the only one willing to talk to a boy when all of my friends thought he was cute, but too afraid to approach...but only if I was feeling especially cute that day, DUH; Jill and I jumping from the platform on the grain bin to the ground, which was a HUGE distance when we had just barely cleared the 5'0" mark in our own height (and I was actually really scared because I thought I'd break my leg and neck, Gail would yell at us, my mom would yell at me, and I wouldn't be able to play basketball...and it would hurt really, really badly); and riding out a RIDICULOUS tubing experience, and that was only half because I was too scared to fall off and die and the other half to show up my big bro--mission accomplished. ;)

However, once we move beyond those miniscule events we have the girl who has an internal freakout just looking at the DVD cover of a horror movie (and hides under blankets shaking if God forbid such a film is playing in the same room);  will sleep in the car for 2 weeks upon seeing 1 mouse in the house; has to bang on the side of the quonset instead of just walking in so all the stupid birds will fly out before they have the chance to buzz me overhead; and practically loses her lunch any time things are spoken of that should REALLY be left in the privacy of one's own restroom. So, fearless by nature? Not so much.

Right now as I lie in this hospital bed with an IV in my arm, my head attached to a bag full of electricity and a helmet on the table that I'll have to wear if I get up, just in case I go down instead, I do feel afraid. It's hard to explain, but the scaredy cat in me is not afraid of what I thought would induce the feeling--I'm not frightened by the seizures anymore. I'm epileptic for a reason; I don't like the fact that they're going to happen but that's not going to stop them, and I know there is an amazing staff here who know how to care for them better than I ever will.

What I'm actually afraid of is that these seizures won't come. My worst fear in this whole process is that we have come this far and gone through all of the crappy stuff only to have it end up being a total waste. The doctors and techs have been seeing the smaller ones that occur when I'm still conscious, which is great, but if those are all we have to go off of I'm nervous that we will simply up my medication doses and I will be sent on my merry way without feeling that I accomplished what I came here to do. Been there, done that. Blech.

According to Ladik, would I be considered fearless? There certainly is not an absence of fear and I do feel brave in coming here to at least give it a shot (and in being seen in public with my lovely helmet and my tail/cord). But is that enough to meet the standard of total fearlessness in this situation? I am truly uncertain and to be honest it might remain that way throughout. All I know for sure is this: the only impact I can have in determining the answer is to continue to face head-on whatever lies ahead. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be scared--that will never go away--but I kind of like it that way. Mice will always freak me out for as long as I live and I am 99.9999% positive that I'll never be able to walk under the birds, but this is one thing I know I can dominate with courage and the unwillingness to succumb to my inner scaredy cat. Strap on the helmet, grab the electrical cord, and take on the challenge...at least the part that will come within 100 feet.