Bess continually lived life with monsters not lurking
far behind. And we lived life constantly wondering if
the next seizure would be today, tonight, next week or
even next year.
The nightshift was the worst.
Bess’ owner slept with his slippers and dressing gown at
the ready at the base of his bed, desperately hoping
that he would be awake and in time to comfort his
companion when a seizure attacked. I will not mention
the psychological effects of missing an attack had on
her very dedicated owner.
We celebrated every day that passed without a seizure,
rejoiced when a week went by without an attack and were
absolutely delighted if an entire month passed without
incident. Unfortunately this dormancy wasn’t to last and
looking back, the monsters were only playing games.
As the seizure subsided, the monster also faded, but it
viciously reminded us that he will return again –
unannounced and unwelcome. Unfortunately on each
sickening visit it cruelly ravaged our beautiful girl
piece by painful piece. Bess was a strong girl, not only
in personality but sheer determination. Alas, the strong
weaken and the weak succumb.