Oh Reese, I hope you are OK with me sharing your pain with others. It helps me document what we are facing, since I can’t help you, I don’t know what else to do. I ache for you. This is me desperately wanting to assuage your discomfort and confusion. I would take all this pain in your place without blinking. Anything to protect you from this ugly, scary place you have to go every time your brain waves spike.

Angelic and pure, you have no trace of hate or anger in your soul.

You blink away a blank stare, but it hovers over you and I imagine you hear a buzzing insect— annoying and constant— you try to make it go away, too weak to really adjust yourself, to find relief.

We love you and how you shine from within. We are so fortunate to see your sparkle every day. Almost every day, except for these days.

You have had 2 seizures today and all our previous deductions tell us it can’t still be related to your ear infection, you have had 4 days of antibiotics. And so we find ourselves back at zero. No reasoning to explain what we can’t control.

I hope you can forgive me. If it turns out to be genetics or something we have fed you. I want to do everything right to save you and I will fight to figure this out. I will never give up. Because you are a fighter my sweet girl, and I know EXACTLY where you got that from.