Ugly Doll Rescue

The first time this happened was in a giant toy store.

We looked down into a tub full of stuffed animals

to spy a small doll in a red checkered dress with messy blonde hair.

Maybe it was that messy blonde mop that made Rose relate to this doll.

She picked it up and turned it over.

The mouth was twisted and the eyebrows raised.

It was an alarming face. I remember thinking that it looked like it had had a stroke.

Maybe I said this. I do not remember.

The doll never went back in the tub. She went home with us.

Her name is Crystal.

The next one was not as alarming.

She had a cute little head band and outfit.  I think the facial expression was the manufacturer’s attempt at a yawn.

Her name is Dorothy Gale.

Then came the pouty-faced brunette with tear streaks down her face.

She was unhappy in the store. We must take her home, so she will quit crying.

Chevrolet is still crying.

The fourth was the tiniest one. She is was wearing a bonnet.

Her smile is just a little crooked.

She has eyes that look as though she just finished crying, but stopped because she spotted someone she loves. It melts your heart.

I do not remember her name. I am sure Rose could tell you.

There was one last attempt at a rescue.

It was in a toy store in a mall.

Rose picked up the doll off the shelf.  It was supposed to talk, but when Rose pushed on her tummy, a horrible, board-scratching shriek came out.

Rose dropped the demonic doll and ran out of the store.

That ended the mission of rescuing ugly dolls.

This post is in honor of Rose who just spent her first night in a college dorm.

GO SAVE THE WORLD ROSE!!!!!

SEIZURE MAMA

 

 

 

Walking Back Through the Fire

I may have to stop the book for a while.

Writing it is hurting me.

I am trying to make it real for my readers,

but that means re-living all the pain myself.

It takes courage to walk back through the fire.  It’s like burning again on the inside.

I will continue when I feel strong enough.

I plan small doses, even though the flow may be off.

To you OTHER SEIZURE MAMAs,

Pay attention to every side effect.

Write everything down.

Keep track of all drug changes.

Get help when you need it.

Take care of yourself.

Mama trumps doctor everyday.

Seizure Mama

No Words better than Wrong Words

Rose had seizures everywhere.  There was no secret to be kept.

The stares did not bother me, most of the time.

I knew that the observers were puzzled and concerned.

What I dreaded were the comments.

Have you tried…?  My uncle had seizures and he…  You should take her to…

These strangers did not know how long we had been struggling for a solution.

They were just trying to help, but…

When Rose was home-bound from school, we took her to a little restaurant with a train running around near the ceiling.

We knew she would like to watch it.

She sat wrapped in a towel to keep her from getting chilled.

She had bruises on her face from a previous seizure.

We sat down in a booth (always a booth) near a big table full of policemen eating lunch.

My child, bruised and pale, wrapped in a towel, not in school.

Were we going to be questioned?  Child abuse?  Neglect?

No need to worry.  Rose had a seizure.

I lay her down in the booth with my purse under her head.

We sat and waited for her to come to.

As a lady was leaving, she walked over to us.

I was prepared for a comment or question.

Instead, she just patted my shoulder and silently walked away.

Thank you wise woman.  All I needed was a love pat.

No words.

Seizure Mama

 

Put on Your Own Oxygen-mask First

When you get on an airplane.

The attendants tell you during the safety training

that if you are travelling with a child,

to put on your own oxygen-mask first.

It seems counter intuitive for any mother to take care of herself first.

But what good are you to your child, if you are unconscious?

Once you get on the sacrifice cycle with an ill child,

it’s hard to even consider your own needs

while struggling to take care of all of your child’s urgent demands.

While looking through old photos of myself, I saw a very unwell person.

The stress changed my face, my body, my personality and my spirit.

Over and over, I went without “oxygen.”

There was no time for me, no energy for me.

I would take care of myself when she was well.

Going without oxygen for twenty-four years took it’s toll.

I am still trying to get healthy.

It’s taken surgeries, drugs, therapy, a trainer, hobbies, books, religion, family and friends to bring me back this far.

It has been a long, hard fight to get back to me.

I know you are busy mama, but

PUT ON YOUR OWN OXYGEN-MASK once in a while.

Seizure Mama

Crash and Run

It happened again. This time in Food Lion.

I was standing at the checkout, when a loud crash startled everyone.

I held myself in place.  Fighting the instinct to run

toward the sound.

It was NOT Rose falling.  She was standing beside me.

This was NOT an emergency.

No 911 call for the dropped watermelons.

No blood on the floor, only red juice.

No need to run toward this crash.

She is safe by your side.

Stand still. Breathe.

SEIZURE MAMA

Water and a Timer

Medication transitions in children with epilepsy are a tricky business.

Some drugs have to be backed off slowly.  The new drug must be added slowly.

During this change parents must watch for seizures from removing the old drug while also monitoring for side-effects from the new drug.

Also if the new drug is the wrong drug, there may be a reaction.

We went through these transitions over and over again with Rose.

Some were uneventful, but a few were very scary.

Once when she was transitioning rapidly due to seizures and side-effects, she went toxic.

My calls to her doctor were frantic. I remember I could barely get out the words.

I told the nurse that Rose was listless and I felt like we were poisoning her.

The wise nurse told me to stop the new drug and get a timer.

She said to keep setting the timer for 20 minutes. Every time it went off, wake her up and make her drink water. We did this for hours until she finally improved.

Maybe it made no real difference, but Mama had an assignment that she thought would help her baby.  Not knowing what to do to help your sick child is torture.

At least I had my job to do while we waited for the wrong drug to leave her system.

SEIZURE MAMA

This is for YOU

My life has been funneled to this task.

It is almost like I am not allowed to start anything else.

I feel like Jonah running from God.

Jonah did not want to go to Nineveh. I do not want to write this book.

I have PTSD, for goodness sake.   Must I relive this trauma?

Yes.  Because you are out there.  Feeling like the sky is falling.

Afraid.   Alone.

And I understand your pain.  I know your fear. I know your loneliness.

If I turn my back on my past and try to forget this experience,

I am turning my back on you.

I cannot do that. Whoever you are.

I am here.

God bless us both.

Seizure Mama