Friday, June 20, 2014

Seconds Feel Like Minutes...Minutes Feel Like Hours

Sammy had a seizure last night.  Callie and Micah were jumping on the trampoline.  I was cleaning up dinner.  Sammy was in the family room playing with some items.  I looked over and noticed she wasn't moving.  I had already given her her medicine, so I expected her to be sleepy.  I went over, sat down by her, but I couldn't get her attention.  Her head was turned, her eyes looking off to the side.

It was a seizure.

I laid her down and began to talk to her.  I stroked her hair.  Callie came inside and asked what was wrong, and we had a very calm, normal conversation about how I knew Sammy was having a seizure.  I casually pointed out how her eyes were fixed to the side, how her pupils were dilated.  I addressed the fact that her body was beginning to convulse, and do you see there?  Her lips are turning blue and the color in her skin is fading.  Callie sat close by Sammy, putting her hand softly on her head, and began to talk to her.

The details I omitted include the following:

The surprise I felt when I realized it was a seizure.
The pit in my stomach when her lips began to change color.
The panic when it seemed to last just too long...when the seconds were turning into minutes, and then too many minutes and I wasn't sure what was going to happen.
The images that ran through my mind of calmly calling 911 to get help quickly.
The bad feeling I had.

I got up to grab her Diastat and administer it so we could attempt to cut the seizure off, but the seizure seemed to stop.  She took a deep breath and she moved her head from one side to the other.  But then, once there, again I couldn't get her attention.  I'm still not sure if this was a continuation of the seizure or if this was just a part of her postictal state.  It was odd though.  I pulled out the camera and took video to show the doctor.  Micah had come up and been kneeling by me and Callie for what felt like awhile, though it was probably only a few seconds before he wanted Sammy.  He was concerned.  I could see it in his eyes as he approached.  He didn't understand and started stroking her arm.

You can see her here
And afterward here.  She was so still, and I kept watching her tummy to make sure she was breathing. 

After awhile, I picked her up and just held her.  Callie and Micah sang along to Frozen and danced while I rocked a sleeping Sammy.  I didn't feel comfortable laying her down to bed quite yet.  So I didn't.  After about 1/2 hour, Marcus got home.  She had just woken up and you would have never known her brain had gone haywire shortly before.

She was smiling and happy.

After some time we were able to get her back to sleep.  This seizure wore her out.

It's so disappointing.  I really don't like seizures.  They steal joyful moments and peace from my heart, and that makes me feel pretty resentful of seizures.  At the same time, in those moments I'm granted a gift.  Normally, I would have already laid Sammy to bed.  Tonight, for a good 45 minutes I held her in my arms and stroke her hair.  I sat on the couch, laid her next to me, hand my left arm on her body as she slept, Micah cuddled up to me in my right arm, and Callie holding my right hand from her chair as we watched Peppa Pig.  Was watching TV on our evening agenda?  No.  But it happened.  And I loved the connection we all felt.  We were this chain of I-got-your-back-no-matter-what-and-whenever-you-need-it family love.  And it was good.

We hope we know why she had this seizure.  Yesterday morning I forgot to give Sammy her medication.  Now that school's out, it's easier for me to mess up on our routine, because I'm establishing a new one.  I mentioned it to Marcus as I headed out, but he forgot's not a part of his routine either.  So by today, though she had her normal doses, it was low in her system.  We hope that's why, because it often helps when you can answer "why?".

The "Why" "W" Why...Why she has seizures, Why she was born with microcephaly, cerebral palsy, and has to deal with a load of other stuff...that WHY I'll never know completely until after this life.  But, I'm pretty confident I know the partial answer.  She's doing a mighty work just being here, giggling and smiling us into submission!  She's such an angel.  So perfect.  And I feel so blessed to be her mom.

Seizure yesterday, smiles today.  As long as I still get the smiles, I can take it.


Beth said...

Thanks for sharing. Your posts lift and inspire me.

mj said...

This post has me in quiet tears at my computer. You articulated so perfectly what it feels like to watch and experience your child momentarily slip away from you. And while others are watching! I try to remain calm and explain as well, though I've only had to do it with friends, never to a sibling, though I'm sure that day will come. Also, I'm honestly happy to know that you mess up medications too! Changing to a new schedule is HARD and I feel like I slip up more than most. Poor Leah. But thank you for sharing. And hugs to you and Sammy tonight even though I'm reading this way after you posted!


Related Posts with Thumbnails