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