The Scare

Elisabeth was feeling so well, that we decided to start a project.  We were stuck at home for eight weeks, and she wanted to do something.  So, we moved her into a more grown-up bedroom, and let her re-decorate.   She  was so excited!

We were about knee deep in books when she said, "um, remember that feeling when I have seizures??"

Everything stopped.  I forgot about the project. "Are you feeling funny right now?"

"Yes."

I stopped working and watched her.  Talked to her.  Calmed her.  She didn't blank out.   But, it took a long time for her to feel normal again.

It happened again, an hour later.  And again.   And again.   She got  the funny feeling about eight times over a 24 hour period.   A couple of times, she'd hide under the bed.  It took me an hour to get her out.   I had to watch  her.  I  had to know if any of these were seizures.   Or just auras.  

Not a single one blanked her out.   She was always there.  But, the panic returned.  The watchfulness. The fear.   That knot in my stomach that wouldn't go away.

Of course, it was the weekend.  Her Dr. wouldn't be there.   So, I did what I always did.  I texted our wonderful Dr. Anne.    "She keeps having auras. Some are 45 minutes long.  Is that normal for two weeks after surgery?"

Of course it wasn't.    Dr. Anne told Dr. Quach.   And, amazing Dr. Quach called us on Sunday morning.

I described the behavior to him.  "hmmm.  that doesn't make  sense.  After surgery,  a seizure shouldn't present that way."

"I know, but she's having the feelings."

Then, it hit me.  Not a single one was a seizure.  Pre-surgery,  6 of them would have been.  Maybe they were a medication reaction.

"We can't know what it is just yet.  It could be part of the healing process.  It could be auras.  Or, it could  be anxiety caused by Kepra."

We made some tweaks to her trileptal dosage, and watched her.   Not a one of them caused a full seizure.  They were just feelings.  Nothing more.  She was okay.  

Deep breath.  Calm down.  Even if they never stop, she won't fall down the stairs, drown  in the bathtub, crash a car, or drop a newborn.  We can live with these, if we have to.

But, as abruptly as they started, they stopped.   They haven't come back.  Not a single one. The sun came back out.  The birds started singing, and we saw the rainbows.  Life was good again.

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."  Psalm 30:5