Safety During a Seizure Cycle

IMG_9476Story #22 (Most of  2002)

The drug roulette regimen made everything worse. Rose was not herself before a seizure nor after a seizure. She was lethargic, floppy, and dopey. She moved from her bed, to a chair, to another chair, and back to her bed. The seizures came with us wherever we went. She seized in restaurants, at birthday parties, at Brownies, in the yard, watching television, in a big box store while shopping for a helmet, at a family reunion, in a funeral home and even in swimming pools.
We took a plastic Adirondak chair with us on outings. The chair reclined slightly, so she could seize in it without falling out. For us every party was BYOC(bring your own chair), and of course the seizure bag went with us everywhere. We evaluated the risks of each outing. Should we go eat at this restaurant? No, it would be too hard to carry her out through the gift shop. She we go to a ballgame? No, seizures in bleachers are too dangerous. Should we go? No. Eventually, we stayed home waiting for the next seizure. I really wanted to buy a little wheelchair, so we could go places, but was advised against it by other family members. “Rose would look handicapped and feel handicapped.”  Yes, but she would be safe.
We walked everywhere linked arm in arm with her. A fall could come at any second. We went up and down our stairs as a unit so she would not fall. We called this method ‘stair pairs.’ To go down Rose would put her left hand on the person in front’s shoulder and her right hand on the handrail. The front person would put their left hand on hers and also hold the rail with their right hand. Going up would be reversed with her escort behind her. Rose would announce when she wanted to go up or down and someone would stop what they were doing and escort her. We made it a point to not say no to her requests to use the stairs. There was so much she could not do at this point; at least she could be free to move about in her own house.
When no one was in a room with Rose, her father, brother or I would whistle two notes and she knew to echo the two notes back. We whistled instead of calling her name so she knew we were just checking on her instead of needing her to come to us. We whistled to her about every three minutes. It got to be so much of a habit that I would catch myself whistling notes when Rose was not with me. She slept with me during these terrible months. Sometimes she would whistle in her sleep.

We referred to this technique as “echo whistling.” If she did not repeat our two notes we would call her name. If she did not answer, we would rush to find her. Sometimes she was just too busy to answer, but a few times we would find her unconscious, leaving me feeling feel guilty about leaving her alone. Negligent for three minutes. Shame on Seizure Mama!

Take a chair, echo whistling, stair pairs. This is how we kept her safe as the seizures took over our lives.

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

You need to devise methods like ‘echo whistling’ and ‘stair pairs’ as part of your everyday routine to keep your child safe. We used two notes for ‘echo whistling’ because Rose had complex partial epilepsy and could do repetitive automations, even at the onset of a seizure. She could probably whistle during these periods, but could not echo the two notes from someone else.

The Forgotten Fob

We moved Rose back to the university yesterday.

She did all the packing. We just helped load and unload the truck.

Just before we left, as an afterthought, her dad suggested I check the medication drawer.

I did it just to make sure a bottle of medicine had not been inadvertently left behind.

What I found instead made my heart stop.

She had forgotten her fob.

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Her necklace with all her epilepsy information and a fob with emergency pills in it.

This is her lifeline.

(I had to pause while typing this and take a deep breath.)

I took the box with the necklace, tag and fob in it to where she was

and held it out for her to see it.

I told her “If you have a seizure and no one knows what to do you could die.”

She nodded and looked down guiltily. Her response was “I did die.”

“Yes,” I replied “but I saved you. I will not be there next time.”

She has had her helicopter mama all summer. Maybe she just forgot where it was?

Maybe she wants to believe epilepsy has left her.

It is a nice dream.

But she must be prepared for the next seizure, even if there never is one.

This epilepsy belongs to Rose now.

I hope she will not forget the fob again.

Seizure Mama = standing down.

 

 

 

Thinking like a Rose

We named Rose after my sister.

Her nickname is Rose because she seems to come through any situation successfully and unscathed like the saying ” came out smelling like a rose.”

We marvel at the tricks my sister manages…the best seats at a play, the best parking space…

But really it is about attitude. She expects things to turn out well.

She drives to where she wants to park until a space opens up.

She inquires about better seats sweetly and gets them.

She trusts the universe. So does my Rose.

Rose expects people to be their best. She sees their best qualities.

She and my sister both enjoy every situation without reserve or dread.

It’s not self-confidence really, it’s world confidence.

They trust the universe. Call it blessed or good Karma.

They are Roses. I need to think more like a Rose.

Sweet!

Seizure Mama

The Art Stayed

Rose was home bound several times during her twelve years of public school.  It was during these periods that we saw her academic struggles up close.

She would go from knowing her multiplication tables to not remembering them, but the art stayed.

Rose could spell words one week and forget them the next, but the art stayed.

She would read a story and forget the names of the main characters, but the art stayed.

When everything else seemed to be flushed from her brain by seizures and side effects, she could still mix a perfect flamingo pink paint and create beauty with her shaky hands.

There were times when we gave up on academics and just did art.

When nothing would go in, the art still came out.

Her teachers were understanding through these roller coaster rides.

When she was stuck in the Epilepsy Monitoring Unit for days at a time, Rose made hotmats. She asked the healthcare workers which colors they wanted and custom made them for people. It was a great way to keep her busy. The nurses and staff thought it was super cute.

When the academic struggles get to be too much for your child,

draw their spelling words, make a math collage, make up a story…

Sometimes it is better to pause than to pass.

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

I am a former teacher. I knew how important it was for Rose to not fall behind in school.  I also knew how unimportant it was for Rose to fall behind in school.

While she was home bound in grades 3 and 4, her teachers and I refused to frustrate her by pushing the curriculum. One of her teachers said it was like trying to teach a blind person colors.

We worked to keep her moving forward in any way that worked. Art always worked. It was also a way to reassure all of us that Rose was still in there, through all the seizures and side effects.

They could have been terrible times, but we did not let them be terrible. Sometimes you have to let go of the agenda and go with the flow.

Seizure Mama/Flower Roberts

Epilepsy Blog Relay Post: June 23, 2019

 

 

Do Something

When you don’t know what to do,

do something.

I am in a quandary this morning.

Rose came home.

There are concerns about summer plans.

I am unsure of how to proceed with publishing.

One thing I am sure about is

I will keep busy today.

I will circle the gardens with a bucket and scissors.

If it rains I will move inside to do laundry and clean the shop.

If all else fails I will sort beads.

I know this sounds crazy.

It helps me to stay out of the worry maze.

If YOU can’t get to YOUR Happy Place, at least stay in a busy place.

Doing something helps me think.

I have a lot of thinking to do.

Seizure Mama/Flower