The Blessings of Epilepsy

Look at that handsome devil.  He got a normal Brain MRI result last week.  I was walking my little diva into preschool when the neurology clinic number showed up on my hot pink cell phone.  It was the nurse, which caused immediate relief.  She wouldn't be calling if there was a problem.  I started skipping across the parking lot as my daughter skipped along with me, oblivious to the reason for my joy.  She said six words:  "Your son's MRI results are normal." That was it.  I thanked her and hung up.  I picked Squirt up and squeezed her since Dude wasn't handy.  As much as I had convinced myself that we would be okay with a tumor finding or something that required serious medical attention, I don't know that I would have been.  I tried remaining calm through that whole process, but as I watched my 7 year old cling to me for help as they were sedating him, trying to free himself of the mask and tubes in complete fear, I knew I wasn't the supermom I convinced myself I would be.  Thank you Jesus I don't have to put on a cape.

Moving on from the "let's eliminate anything scarier than  Epilepsy testing," I've had a few weeks to process Epilepsy and what it looks like for our family and our little Enderman (Mindcraft is ALL he can talk about these days).  I've sat with it and digested it with as little drama as my over dramatic self naturally gravitates toward.  I've watched my son with more patient and loving eyes and noted all the moments that I assume are seizure moments.  I've laid with him at night and watched his mouth twitch and his arm move with new understanding of what might be going on in his marvelous little brain.  My husband and I inwardly bow our heads as we help with "focus" on his homework, knowing that his brain is doing everything in its power to steer him away from 24+13.

I've processed and sat and prayed and breathed and here's the Epilepsy conclusion I'm coming to.  We're going to treat it like a blessing.  In my heart of hearts, I believe it's a blessing.  It points to what we can only hope and pray is the root of so many other struggles he has faced.  Epilepsy offers us a more clear understanding of our son as a person and what's happening in his body on a day to day basis.  It allows us the opportunity to look at him with more compassion and understanding for the things that perplexed us and caused angst in the past.  It's not a ball of wax anymore.  It's more like a bouncy ball with a tie dye pattern running through it.  Complex, but really pretty and mesmerizing to look at.  It bounces much better too.  Epilepsy offers the blessing of working with trained doctors to find solutions.  As much as we've worked our tails off avoiding medication and doing natural therapy and diet options, we have no choice but to embrace Epilepsy meds.  And if you're one that will argue that we should avoid medication and try diet alternatives, please be so kind as to swallow your opinions.  In this case, we're not game.  We're aware that the medication road very well might be windy and frustrating, but in the end, I trust we'll figure it out.  And the results of what our little man might experience as a result of carefully chosen and monitored treatment causes nothing less than little girl giddy excitement for this mama.  I don't doubt the blessing potential that's ahead.

So, on March 2-4 we check into Children's Hospital where we'll sit in a hospital room for up to three days.  Dude will be hooked up like he was for the EEG that entire time and will also be video monitored.  We'll have to push a button when we suspect he's experiencing a seizure so they can mark that moment in the video.  We'll also have to tell them when he wants to move from the bed to the chair so they can move the camera.  THAT we're not looking forward to.  He's going to go ape shit by the end.  As are we.  We have to be with him in that room every second, forcing us to bring in Grandma V as a reinforcement.  She'll hang with Squirt so Tim and I can share hospital duty.  If they get an adequate amount of results in the first 24 hours, they might allow us to leave. We're hoping for that scenario, but planning on the long haul.  We're told the results will be given to us while we're there, which is helpful.  The waiting game is no carnival ride, not that I think carnival rides are at all fun.  At that point, our doc will get the results and we'll consult about what type/s we're dealing with and what meds she recommends starting with.  Bam, that'll be that.  Epilepsy will be our medical blessing in disguise and with God at the wheel managing our level of peace and optimism, we can handle it.  All of it.  Just please no more surprises, ok God?  We're all surprised out for a while.