“When my son Griffin was diagnosed with epilepsy at two years old, I mourned his loss of minor hockey and other organized sports — activities I assumed he’d never play. As his parents, we did our best to deal with this new family development. His mom’s “mother bear” protective instincts took hold tightly and wrapped him in the proverbial bubble wrap — no climbing wall, a locked baby swing, no swimming for fear of a seizure happening in the pool, and a delay in helping him learn to ride a bike.”
