Weekends were down time, unless there was an op in motion, which was going to happen all too soon. Mike stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Morning was time to take meds. He picked up the new prescription bottle. The neurologist said he was lucky to start with. First, that the Topamax worked at all, because a number of people had no success with that medication. Second, that it worked at a moderate dose so Mike had minimal side effects. He didn’t want to have to take this crap at all, but at least the past months had been predictable. Meds at 100 mg twice a day meant no seizures. Now he was being cut down to 50 mg, still twice a day. He needed a magic 8-ball or a deck of Tarot cards to tell him what to expect. Yeah, right, if only it were that easy.
He gulped down the dose an
