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of everyone affected by epilepsy

Epilepsy, by Tracey

This poem was a shortlisted entry in the 14 and over category of Epilepsy Today's first-ever festive poetry contest: Outside the lines.

I am the mother of Samuel who is nine and has been diagnosed with a rare sodium channel mutation in the gene SCN2A. He has hundreds of different seizures a day and often hospital interventionfor status epilepticus, which is what this poem is about. 


I never know where it comes from 
That takes him far from me
I wish it back there straight away
I banish it wholeheartedly 

I sit and wonder where he is
And hope he's somewhere nice
While white coats rush and prod and poke
To bring him back to life 

I cry and curse and beg and plead it
Give me back my son
He’s mine not yours, It's not his time he's only just begun

We sit and face off you and me
I play the waiting game
You're a hateful unwanted visitor 
I wish you our world of pain 

Eventually you go away
My son looks back at me
Another round, another day
We won the lottery

I know that's not the end of it
I know that you'll be back
But I keep up on research
So I can help you pack

Strikes me you're a parasite
An evil with no face
But hopefully God and science
Will put you in your place

Not too many years from now
I want the world to say
There used to be this thing called epilepsy
But we've made it go away. 

Epilepsy, by Tracey
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