Category: epilepsy

Story #7: Second Drug Down

Rose had many sore throats and ear infections from the time she was a baby. To help with these issues, she had a tonsillectomy and a tube placed in her left eardrum for drainage in December. She was five years old and in her second year of prekindergarten preschool. The surgery went as planned. We went home feeling like we were eliminating several health issues. We were relieved to have these two surgeries behind us.
Around 4:00 AM the night after the outpatient surgery Rose started vomiting. We hoped this was due to the post-surgery pain medications. Her vomit consisted of applesauce and white flecks. We wondered if the white flecks were pieces of drug 2D. The vomiting continued. We tried to intervene with a gel applied to her arm. The anti-nausea gel was our safety net for nausea. We kept syringes of it in the refrigerator.
The first seizure occurred about 10:00 AM. The first one was short. The one that followed was a bit longer. Then there were two episodes of stiffening of her arms. Any series of seizures is scary, but Rose’s body was under the stress of post-surgery and the after-effects of anesthesia. We knew we needed help.
We went to the Emergency Room at our local hospital. We made it clear that Rose’s neurologist must be contacted before any drugs were given in her IV. A large dose of drug 2D was administered without consulting Dr. T. When a blood sample was drawn later, the levels of drug 2D was really high, too high. No other drugs could be given.
Rose had four more seizures while at this high level of 2D. She was seizing while unconscious. Her emergency, sub-lingual pills could not be used due to her high levels of 2D. We watched helplessly, realizing drug 2D was not effective in preventing Rose’s seizures.
Rose was moved to a room on the pediatrics floor. I was comforted that her bed was surrounded by caring and attentive professionals. I was not comforted that they could barely hide their panic. I watched as they lovingly tried to help my unconscious little girl as if she were their own.
They were hovering around Rose’s bed, totally focused on her every move when a nursing assistant rolled some scales in to the room to attempt to get Rose’s weight. The group heard the squeaky wheels of the scales enter her room. They all turned from the bed to see the scales. In unison they belted out, “Not now.” It was such a ridiculous event that I laughed out loud.
Seizure Mama speaks to parents.

When you take your child to a hospital, you are no longer in charge. They have their rules and protocols that they must follow. You must be assertive, yet patient. I am not good at either of these things, but I have had to practice. You and your child will have to live with treatments received in the Emergency Room long after the doctors and nurses have moved on to the next emergency. Keep all your medication information and doctor contacts with you at all times. These medical professionals need all the information they can get, fast, so they can make the right decisions quickly.

Staring at the Ceiling

Rose had dreamed of this for years.  She was so excited to finally be here.

After being herded past thousands of pieces of magnificent artwork,

we entered through the crowded doorway

of  the anticipated site and descended the steps.

We had expected solemn silence, but instead there was talking and pushing

and guards yelling “Silenzio!”

Our group was being moved, in mass, with our leader and her orange flag in the front.

There was barely time to pause and look up during our allocated minutes.

Rose’s father, brother and I were busy being bustled about, but Rose was staring at the ceiling.

Her eyes titled up, her lips parted and her chin dropped.

Rose’s face looked exactly like it looks when she is starting to have a seizure.

The three of us rushed to her side at once.

We startled her out of her rapturous moment.  She was furious with us.

Our time in the chapel was up.  Our orange flag was on the move. We must follow it.

Our tour group was herded out of the chapel only to rush past more famous pieces of art.

Whether in Rome or at home.

We are always alert for a seizure.

Our fear had ruined this precious memory,  like so many others.

Forgive us Rose.

Stop this Snake

I have a sneaky seizure snake

coiled in the back of my mind.

It stays put most of the time.

Sometimes it strikes

with electrical venom

and shocks my brain.

It slithers through my thoughts

and steals them.

I wish someone strong

could put a heal on the head

of this seizure snake.

 

The Hades Rodeo

I know it is only

a matter of time

before I must ride

the Lightning bull

at the Hades Rodeo.

I will be twisted and turned

then thrown to the ground.

I hope that some clown

will stand over me

while I’m down

to save me

from being stomped

before I can get back

up on my feet

at the Hades Rodeo.

Story #5: The First Neurologist

Rose’s first visit to a neurologist was two months after her first official epileptic seizure. During the previous weeks she had tried one drug that failed and was on a second. Many tests had been run including an electroencephalogram(EEG). She had experienced a second seizure the month before the visit. We were anxious to learn everything we could from this appointment.
Dr. T’s diagnosis was complex partial epilepsy. This meant that Rose’s seizures started in a certain place in her brain and then generalized to a full, grand mal event. This made sense to us because many of her supposedly febrile seizures started with chin twitching. Rose referred to these as a “tornado in her mouth.” She could not speak during these episodes, but she could point to her mouth. That little aura event was so helpful in those early days. The aura soon disappeared, so that we were all surprised by Rose falling to the floor.
Since her seizures were lengthy, Dr.T advised us to get CPR training. She recommended that we call 911 for any seizure lasting for more than five minutes. We knew that longer seizures meant danger to her brain and life. We vigilantly watched her. Rose was a very active little girl, so this was not easy. She always stayed within earshot of the person responsible for her. We started tag-teaming back then. Just to make sure someone was always near-by and alert.
The neurologist evaluated Rose physically and mentally with simple tests. She was extremely bright and was evaluated as entry-level first grade, although she was just entering her last year of pre-school. Dr.T instructed us to watch for developmental back-sliding and side-effects involving Rose’s gums. After our experience with her first drug 1T, I knew that such changes were plausible. We hoped that this second drug would do its job without side-effects.
The plan was to stay on drug 2D for three years and then wean down and eventually off, if no more seizures occurred. We were glad to hear that this may be a childhood condition which may eventually diminish. I am not sure if that was an accurate assumption. Our new goal was three seizure-free years.
We jumped through all the seizure-prevention hoops. Rose took all medications on time. She was encouraged to take afternoon naps even if it was just quiet time in her bed. We still diligently watched for fevers and treated each immediately with a red or pink over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug(NSAID).

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

The term SUDEP(Sudden Unexplained Death from Epilepsy) had not been coined at this point. We knew that during Rose’s first long seizure that her heart may have stopped. We knew that the longer and stronger the seizures were, the more dangerous and life-threatening they were. This was always in the back of our minds. It is still in the back of our minds. Rose is twenty-six years old and away at college, but that fear is still here. You must go on with your life despite this threat. Uncertainty is present in every life, you just got yourself a big ol’ dose of it to hide somewhere.

Now that we know one of Rose’s triggers is red dye #40, I went back through all her records to see if there was any correlation between her red medications and seizures. I found no correlation for the prescribed medications, such as liquid antibiotics that were red, pink or orange. There is no way for me to track all the colored over-the-counter liquid drugs. As a precaution, we now avoid anything red.  Read food labels. Even if the food is not red, pink, orange or purple, it may still contain red dye.

Story #4: First Drug Down

Drug “1T” was our first  drug. Now we knew that the cause of the seizures was always in Rose’s brain, not just showing up with fevers. It was a resident, not a guest. We were in a constant state of vigilance. I do not say this lightly. It would be a condition for us that still continued for decades, emergency-ready for twenty-four/seven. Rose nicknamed herself 24/7 because of this. We all tried to play this down, but it was what it was.
With the drug 1T, Rose became more active and hungry. She seemed hyper-emotional compared to her prior happy-go-lucky self. Was this change due to the new drug or an after-effect of the seizure? Her care-free childhood had transformed into a series of tests and medications and worried faces. There was a period of weeks after that long seizure in May that seemed like epilepsy was the center of our universe.
Our family planned a camping trip for mid-June. We hauled the boat and tent to a State Park for a week of fun. Our site was along the shores of a crystal-clear lake. Some friends with a daughter Rose’s age came to visit and spend a day with us out in our pontoon boat. Rose had a lot of fun on this trip. She made her own little play house inside a folded lawn chair. What an adventure.
Her dad and I had discussed what we would do if a seizure occurred during our stay here. We knew where the hospital was. We located the park office. There were officials around who could help, if needed. We made our plans in case of emergency. We had the bag phone. We were cautious, but brave.
During the night on Wednesday, I was awakened by unusual noises and motion beside me in the dark tent. I quickly switched on my flashlight. Rose was seizing. Her face and neck were covered in drool. Her skin looked splotchy. The seizure was short.
I lay back down on my sleeping bag, keeping a hand on Rose. I lay there thinking about what a crazy stupid mother I must be to have my baby here in the middle of nowhere, in a locked campground, in a tent, in the dark. This event was the beginning of one of my paranoid hopes of buying a house across the street from a hospital. That way we would always have medical help close-by.
When Rose awoke the next morning, she was scratching her neck. I pulled up her pajama top. A prickly red rash covered her torso and upper arms. Her lips were swollen. The bag phone was used to call her pediatrician. His diagnosis was that Rose had experienced an allergic reaction to the new drug, 1T.
Camp was broken. The tent was bagged up. Supplies were tossed haphazardly into the pontoon boat and the back of the truck. We headed back to civilization and supposed safety.
We stopped by the doctor’s office then pharmacy on the way home. This drug was not the right one. There were more to choose from. Lots more. Surely the next one would do the trick and stop the seizures without side effects. Seizures had been around for centuries. Surely there was an effective drug to fix this.

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

A drug is a drug. It is a chemical compound, not a magic wand. It does what it does with the other chemicals in the body. Drugs are not dynamic substances. They work or they don’t. If a drug is not working, move on.
After trying several different drugs, we began to feel obligated to give each new drug more time. Determined to give each more chances than it probably deserved. We were afraid to damn each one for fear there was not a new drug waiting in the wings. Learn their names. Know their half-lives. Keep records of their effects and side-effects. When the evidence shows that the drug is ineffective, move to another or a new combination. Do not linger with a drug failure.
My charts of drugs and dosages, seizures and side-effects gave us confidence to move forward in terms of medications and treatments. It also eliminated “re-inventing the wheel” when we had to change doctors or go to a new clinic for tests.

Gifts from Epilepsy

The title is not a typo.

Yes, gifts from epilepsy.

Falling down over and over again forces you to practice getting up.

Shunning gives you thick skin.

All your friends are true, because the fake ones ditch you.

You get more grit than most people on the planet.

A huge, wide-open heart is acquired.

You get to be an expert at empathy.

You get really good at feeling the fear and doing it anyway.

Make no mistake, epilepsy is a foe not a friend.

It steals your freedom. It robs you of your peace.

But it does give certain gifts, whether you want them or not.

Gee, thanks.

 

 

 

Story #3: The Big One

Seizure number thirteen made it official. Rose was four years and three months old. Her first febrile seizure was when she was eighteen months old. All her seizures thus far had been accompanied with illness and fever. This one was different. There was no fever. There was no illness.
Rose was eating a brownie while sitting at her place at the table. Her eight year old brother commented that her mouth was too full. I looked over to see Rose holding a napkin in front of her face. I pulled it down to see chocolate drool leaking from the side of her mouth. Her chin was quivering. I leaned Rose over to the side to remove the chewed up brownie from her mouth. By now her eyes were blinking. I carried her to the nearby couch and placed her on her side. She tried to sit back up and pointed to the bathroom.

I carried her there thinking she might need to vomit. Her arms went out stiff with her hands bent down at the wrists. Instead of entering the bathroom, I turned and carried her to my bedroom, the room with the phone. This was not the usual seizure.

I dialed her pediatrician’s number and got his partner, who was on call. I described what was happening to Rose. By this time her knees were bent up and her lips were blue. The doctor told me that if the seizure kept progressing that she may stop breathing. Her torso was now tense and writhing. She was in a twisting knot and turning blue. I was instructed to call an ambulance.
I remember responding, “They can’t find us.” His reply was to get her to a hospital, fast. I hung up the phone and picked up my blue, little girl. I carried her up the steps to the carport. As I strapped her into her seat, there was an explosive vomit. Then she slumped over and became still. I thought she had aspirated vomit and couldn’t breathe. I unbuckled her seat belt and dragged her limp body across my thighs and beat on her back. Nothing happened.
We had a bag phone back then. I got it out, unzipped it and instructed her brother to hold it as high as possible to get better reception. I dialed 911. What was my emergency? Where was I? How old was the patient? There were too many questions. I had to describe where our driveway was because there was no street sign. I had to tell how to open our gate to get into the driveway. In the country, out in the woods, no address, no neighbors. I was talking words, but my mind was praying, “Give her back. Give her back.”
Finally, I was being told how to help Rose. She was still and blue. “Put her on the floor of the van” the dispatcher said. “Lay her flat on her back” he instructed. “Start CPR” he ordered. As I was getting ready to follow more instructions, Rose took a deep breath. I was relieved to see the blue in her face fading. Now my prayer was, “Let her be whole.”
I finally took my eyes off of her to notice that it was raining. I looked over at her brother who standing as tall as he possibly could, holding the heavy bag phone over his head and shaking.
Then I heard a car approaching. There had been no siren. It was a friend from church who was an EMT: First Responder. As I started babbling about what had happened, he calmly said ”Go change your clothes, I’ll watch her.” For the first time, I noticed that I was covered in vomit. I was so relieved to have some help. I rushed back into the house to change my clothes and returned just as the ambulance and her father arrived.

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

This event was an actualization of many of my recurring nightmares.
1. An emergency alone. No one to help me in my isolated location.
2. One of my children dying in my arms because I do not know how to save my own baby.
3. Calling 911 and having no one answer, or the person who answers does not understand what I need, where I am, etc.

Yes, all of that happened together like a cluster of calamities from my darkest dreams. I will never forget that helpless and hopeless feeling.

Yet, I will also remember the great relief I felt with Rose’s big breath and the familiar face of a friend coming to the rescue. That pure sense of gratefulness that I felt when I was no longer alone.

This was the big-bang-beginning of our journey.

The enemy finally had a name, Epilepsy.

Seizure Mama is born!

Story #2: Fevers and Seizures

Rose had many ear infections that were usually accompanied by fevers. Unfortunately, these fevers sometimes caused febrile(with fever)seizures. We were vigilant about taking her temperature anytime she was sick. If her temperature was elevated, we gave her a children’s liquid form of an NSAID(non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs). We tried diligently to prevent her fevers from getting high enough to supposedly cause a seizure. We referred to her problem as a “faulty thermostat”. No fevers, meant no seizures… we thought.
Over the next three years after her initial seizure in the pediatricians office, Rose had eleven more febrile seizures. These were always scary. It seemed as though we just couldn’t prevent them, even though we tried to intervene with over-the-counter medications. We began to suspect that there was more to these events than just fevers.
I began wondering if this condition had a source that was always present, not just something that showed up with fever and illness. Was there something in her brain causing these? Maybe a lesion, tumor or chemical imbalance? When would this end? All children get sick, but most don’t have seizures accompanying illnesses.
I began to feel that the cause was lurking somewhere in Rose, waiting until she was weakened. I suspected that this was no visitor that showed up with illnesses and fevers. This was a resident. I constantly watched for flushed skin and chin twitches.
I did some research. I read all about febrile seizures. No one mentioned the word epilepsy. It crossed my mind, but not my lips. Not my child. It was these ear infections. If we could get them under control, things would be fine. An Ear, Nose and Throat specialist, that’s what we needed. Get some tubes in those ears so that they could drain, the infections would clear, the fevers would stop. Voila’!

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

Later on there were some suspect incidences that did not involve fevers. Rose referred to them as “tornadoes in her mouth”.  I did not know anything about partial seizures. I had never researched epilepsy before. I did not want it to be epilepsy, so I ignored some signs. That’s called denial. Would my being more proactive have made any difference? No one can know that. I did the best I could with what I knew at the time. When there were undeniable signs of something more, I jumped into action. For now the diagnosis was febrile seizures, nothing countered that. I am not one to borrow trouble.

Story #1: Hot Diaper

The warning came in the form of a hot diaper. I was sitting at the kitchen table with Rose on my lap. I felt extreme heat radiating across my thighs. I thought I had spilled a cup of hot coffee into my chair, but there was no coffee near me, only squirming and fussy Rose.
When I figured out that the heat was coming from her diaper, I panicked. How could her pee be that hot? All I could think of was getting her to her pediatrician. I knew the fever had to be really high for her urine to be this hot.
I grabbed Rose’s diaper bag along with my purse and headed out the door. I drove straight to the doctor’s office even though I knew it was their lunchtime. I pulled our van into the parking lot facing the door of the office. I paced back and forth outside the open van door while Rose sat quietly in her car seat. The nurse appeared to unlock the door. I removed Rose from her seat and hurried toward the nurse. I quickly explained why we were there without an appointment.
It was a relief to be ushered into the office and down the hallway toward the examination rooms. As the nurse put the thermometer in Rose’s ear she stiffened. Her head tilted back and her eyes rolled up in her head. She was twitching and twisting so strongly, that I could barely keep her in my arms. I screamed the doctor’s name. “She’s having a seizure.” I heard myself yell.
The doctor appeared beside us and cradled Rose’s head as we moved as a group into the nearest patient room. Rose was still jerking as we gingerly placed her on the padded examination table. Then she was eerily still and ashen. She didn’t look the same. Had something changed in those few minutes? Was Rose still in there? I held my breath and waited for a movement or sound. Waiting for some sign that this was over and Rose was back.
The doctor stayed with us. Silently administering acetaminophen rectally. He sponged down Rose’s arms and legs with clothes that were wet with tepid water. Rose began to squirm. I remember taking a deep breath. She stirred some more then looked around and sat up.
The doctor left to see other patients while I sat in the chair holding Rose. I was stunned at what had just taken place. Rose eventually got down on the floor to play with the toys on the rug, as if nothing had happened. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
I had never seen a seizure in person before. I didn’t know anything about childhood seizures. Mama had some serious learning to do. This was not in all those parenting books, or maybe I skipped those parts.

Seizure Mama speaks to parents:

After the shock wore off, I played the terrible parent game called “SECOND GUESSING YOURSELF”. If you have never played a form of this game, go on to the next story. The rest of you, here we go.

This form of the game is called “What if I had…?”.  It involves a kind of scientific twist like forming an if/then hypothesis and guessing the various outcomes. In the game you get to be the cause of every calamity. It’s a great game to play at night, in the dark, when you should be getting some much-needed rest.

I will demonstrate.

1. IF I had changed Rose’s diaper and given her a cool drink instead of rushing to the doctor’s office, THEN she might have cooled off and never had that seizure.
2. IF I had changed Rose’s diaper and clothes to a cooler outfit, THEN…
3. IF I had given Rose a dose of an NSAID(non-steroidal anti-inflammatory)drug and a cool drink, THEN…

The possibilities of these variations are endless. You can play all night if you wish.

What is the point of this game? Blame of course. You are in charge of your world, so this seizure must be your fault! I know, that sounds crazy right? Then quit thinking that way about yourself. Bad things happen. Maybe things could have been done differently. Maybe there may have been a different outcome. But you don’t know that. So when you catch yourself playing this terrible game, pat your tired self on the back and roll over and get some sleep.