I can’t help her. All I can do is sit helplessly and watch her seize and keep her from hitting her head on the door way and keep her from drowning in her own saliva.
It’s been a bad day.
And it was a reasonably decent weekend, too… we got homework caught up. She was starting to find humor in the way that some people view her inability… (she isn’t supposed to walk by the coffee table any more… or go anywhere alone… or sit and watch the creek water flow (something that she loves… something that I can SO totally relate to)). She was just starting to feel that life may be okay and that the 750 mg Keppra ER was having a desired effect.
I had my lavender scarf nearly done (I’m edging it in burgundy/teal/purple variegated yarn as just a little difference… yes pictures will be posted when it is done) to wear for International Purple Day (and for the Round Rock City Council Meeting on Thursday).
I was getting her print outs off the printer in the office so she had them for school. I heard the seizure start. I don’t know what is worse, hearing the sound of it starting or seeing her in the midst of one.
She was in her room… I found her laying on the floor rigid, her eyes rolled back in her head. She had pillows and blankets on the floor where she was (she was cleaning her room) and she was laying on them.
All I can do is keep her from hurting herself on the doorway and feel helpless and almost useless… I can’t fix this. I can’t make it any better.
Dr Reardon (who I called afterward) said to double her dose tonight (it’s been 4 weeks exactly… almost to the HOUR) since the last ones. She was complaining that the light made her sick. He said it was normal for a seizure to trigger a migraine… it does with her… with all the symptoms… tummy… head… vision… so I covered her window with sheets to cut more of the light out and she’s sleeping on the pillows and blankets on the floor. The first dose of the Keppra is in her, the next one (the double up one) is due in a few hours.
Now, she is uber depressed again… she was starting to feel almost normal again… how do I convince her this really isn’t the end of the world? How do I help her to understand that there has to be a purpose to this… How do I keep from feeling as helpless as she does. I’m a mommy. I’m supposed to be able to fix things. Booboos are supposed to be fixed by a kiss and a hug and SOMETIMES a booboo-bunny with ice in it… or a frozen wash cloth (for bitten tongue or lip)… even when they both got older, ice packs and doctors were supposed to be my co-super-heros. I feel like I’m failing her because I can’t fix this and I’m supposed to be able to fix it… I just am.