Every time she sees the neurologist, she finds herself near or in tears.
At her 18-month post HB08 appointment this week, she was sans kids (a rarity), had on her favorite pink sweater, and the nurse taking her blood was a fantastical expert, not even a pinch.
She said the words she needed to say, asked the questions she needed to ask:
"So...remember when you said that at my 2-year anniversary we could talk about weaning off the meds?"
The doctor started talking about treating beyond brain, treating anxiety, depression, headaches (which she doesn't recall having or mentioning), and so she started worrying that she was going to be introduced to new medicine...more medicine. Then the doctor made a turn and surprised her with agreeing to weaning off at year 2. She said: "You will have to avoid driving for probably 2 months though."
She responded: "That is NO problem, I am totally fine with that. I'll wear a helmet around town if I need to."
The doctor sort of smiled, maybe a little...she's pretty serious.
When she pictured this conversation in her head, it always ended this way: "Well, I know I said that, but you're going to have to stay on this medicine for the rest of your life."
She was so happy that it ended differently, she almost cried. Almost. Her smile was too big for tears.