10/08/2019

Fuck epilepsy. And no, I won't apologize for my language. I had been looking forward to writing a post in a few weeks to mark the 1st anniversary of Cian's epilepsy diagnosis. Not because that was something to celebrate, but because his life since then was something to celebrate. I would have talked about the fact he was thriving and living large despite the monster lurking in the shadows. That post would have been full of hope. I would have told you how Cian spent the weekend of the farm trial being the sort dog. How he was really learning the job of working in the chute and finally hit a heel. How more and more, each day, he did something so Jig-like it was scary. I would have laughed about his two special friends, both named Sunni, who he loved to wrestle and romp with. How each morning he waited for me to toss him an ice cube so he

08/08/2019

I suck at living in the moment. Cian's been trying his damndest to teach me. I have failed. What can I say? I'm human. I obsess about shit. Shit that happened, is happening, may happen, could never possibly happen but WHAT IF IT DID???? My latest obsession comes courtesy of Cian's FitBark. I sync the phone app to it whenever I'm in range, and check it frequently, comparing what he has done to the data being displayed. I find it fascinating and hope the UW's study will find it equally so. A somewhat normal day for Cian might look like this: Active quite a bit and sleeping good at night. I'm not certain how the FitBark differentiates between Play and Active. There are times I think it should register other than it does but I haven't researched that part yet. Compare that to this readout from the 20th when Cian had a seizure during the

07/18/2019

I was doing some website updates, transferring domain names, switching servers, panicking when I thought I lost everything… again, etc. etc. and suddenly realized it's been over a month since my last post here. Yikes, right? But, you know… And then there's been this stretch of heat and humidity which are two of my most unfavorite things. Okay, enough with the gifs, that's not what any of us are here for. Let's see, short recap; my last post was about how I was talked out of benching Jig and only running her in farm trials because I wasn't having the success I thought I wanted. Since then, a second person whose opinion I value, concurred with the first. Actually, several folks concurred. So, I'm sticking with it and with Jig because I have a lot to learn yet. Jig has some stuff to learn as well. Stuff I should have taught her

03/24/2019 Thriving

My last post on Cian was a great example of the crashing lows epilepsy can bring in the blink of an eye. It wasn't, however, a great example of most days. The truth of the matter is, since this all began last November, there have been far and away more good days than bad. One of the worse things about epilepsy, however, is how it strips away your sense of security, making it easy to get caught up in the darkness of it. As usual, I need to learn a lesson from my dog and stop dwelling on what could happen. I have a plan for breakthroughs. I have a great support team. The control freak in me needs to let go. Like Cian, I need to embrace all of our good days. Days like these

12/18/2018 Weathering the Storm

Sometimes, shit happens. No rhyme or reason. Nothing you could have done to prevent it. Shit just happens. Like a storm, it can pass quickly with minimal damage, or rage on leaving you feeling beaten and dragged. All you can do is ride it out, collect the pieces afterwards, and move forward. Our storm hit on an otherwise normal Friday afternoon at the beginning of November when Cian began to seizure. Not just one, but four on that first Friday. They would continue until the following Monday night before we were able to break the cycle. Over the next two weeks there were numerous consultations and trips to our vet, the ER vet, and a neurologist. There were many tests, a barrage of drugs, and long, sleepless nights. For a stretch of a couple weeks we feared Cian wouldn't come back to us. We tip-toed around the fear that the kindest