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Several years ago, as the world was going through the Covid shutdown, my husband and I were going through our own nightmare. Our son, who was seven years old at the time, was going through a very difficult patch in his life. He had been diagnosed with epilepsy and was experiencing seizures daily. We had been in and out of doctors' offices and hospitals, trying to get them under control but nothing was working. Then, in October of that year, he had surgery, and a device was implanted in his chest, which connected to his brain and helped control the seizures. It was a huge relief because we had gone through several months of nightmares and heartbreak, and it was taking a toll on all of us. At the same time, with everything shutdown because of Covid, it made things even more difficult for all of us.

After having his surgery, he was released from the hospital, and we headed home. I was exhausted, because we had been at the hospital for a little over two weeks and I just wanted a hot shower and my own bed. We arrived home, and after getting settled, my husband ordered dinner and went down to his man cave to fix us a couple of drinks so that we could try to relax. I took a long hot shower and when I was done, I threw on a tank top and a pair of my yoga shorts. I joined my husband and the two of us enjoyed a drink, while waiting for dinner to arrive.

About half an hour later, the phone rang, and it was the delivery guy, letting us know that he was pulling up. My husband headed out the side door to grab the food, and when he did, my son came running down the ...

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