Mountain Climbing

This is not an epilepsy blog. This will not be an epilepsy blog. This blog will continue to be what it has always been: a puking blog.

But...

The seizures keep coming.

On the day her doctor said Kathryn had epilepsy, I could easily have kissed her full on the mouth. I had heard of epilepsy; I knew what it was. It was so much less scary than what I thought we were facing. And her doctor was super hot.

At that point, Kathryn had had two seizures. The first one came and went in the middle of the night. By the morning, it was easy to dismiss. The next one landed her in the hospital for three days. But still, two seizures in two years? Piece of cake. Throw in a daily dose of anti-seizure medicine for good measure, and I was sure we would be in for smooth sailing.

The seizures keep coming.

There were more last night, even after we increased her medicine. Two in a row. And longer. So we increased her medicine again this morning. And now I am scared. I am scared that what we have seen in the past were the foothills, little seizure bumps in the landscape, hills that we crossed easily before finding ourselves climbing Mt. Epilepsy. And thinking about Mt. Epilepsy scares me to the pit of my stomach.

And it makes me want to puke. (See? A puking blog!)

Comments

[HeatherK]

I hate that helpless kind of feeling. I hate that figuring out seizure meds is such an inexact thing. I hate that your sweet girl or any has to suffer w/ seizures. Hoping against hope that maybe she's just having a growth spurt or some transient change that's spurring these recent seizures.

[Shawna]

I am amazed that you can write about something so terrifying. If my child were experiencing seizures, I'm not sure I could articulate anything very effectively. I'm not sure I could do anything other than sit with my head in my hands for a long time.

I'm a new reader but I love this blog. I wish the best for you and your family, and thank you for letting me follow your journey.

[Burgh Baby]

I hate that you are dealing with this, and I hate even more than Kathryn is dealing with this. Good luck and tell that kid to knock it off with the siezures already.

[nicolefrancine]

finally delurking to say how sorry i am that things continue to be difficult for your family. am thinking extremely good thoughts and positive vibes and attempting to send them your way without being too hippy-dippy and weird. carry on.

[Holly]

I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I can't imagine how hard it would be to watch my child go through that. Stay strong.

[becky from sc]

I like your blog better as a puking blog.

[m]

Now even your friggin' mastheads are making me cry. Aren't those Kathryn's footprints?

[Amy the Mom]

Really sorry to hear this. Can't even imagine the worry and fear you're all dealing with. Keep us updated, we're rooting for Kathryn.

[Brian]

m: yes. The post you remember is here.

And Becky? So do I.

[Nicole]

We're pulling for you. It's not on the same level, but I know that figuring out the meds that are necessary to keep Connery out of the ER/hospital with asthma attacks has been a huge trial and error process. Even the doctors admit that. It's frustrating that in this day and age so much of medicine is still guesswork.

Good luck. I hope that writing about it here makes it somewhat easier to process.

[The Godfather]

Oh, The Mom and The Dad. I'm so sorry you're having to go thru this.

I'm sticking with my "New Jersey is bad" theory. You guys need to move back to Texas. None of this happened when you were in Texas! Oh, and The Dad, we have hot neurologists here, too!

[Rachael]

I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how big that mountain looks right now. I'll send hugs to your family and your daughter in hopes for improvement and strength. Thank you for sharing your story.

[Tammy]

I don't blame you about the puking. Not one single bit.

P.S. The short list? Really?

[rachel]

i wish there were something more profound and hopeful to say than "i'm so sorry" - but i am. i hope that the quest for the right dosage comes to a successful conclusion, and that quickly. sometimes being the grown up sucks. i hope the mountain turns out to be smaller than it seems today.

[Julianne]

Man, this sucks. Hard. I'm usually a lurker, but couldn't read this and not say something. I have a little girl of my own, and the thought of what you're going through hurts my heart. I am so sorry. Here's hoping they get those meds figured out and we can all get back to our regularly scheduled puking.

[Cindy]

Dude, you keep writing about your life and don't worry abpit what the blog does or does not become. This sucks balls and is difficult and not fair and well, did I mention it sucks balls? It's great that you have a place to write about how scary and rotten this is. Your blog has always been about what is going on in your life, especially with your girls, and how you deal with the ups and downs with humor, lots of poo and puck and in your face humor right on through the tough parts. Right now this is your life and you are still hittin' it with humor. Besides, just imagine how many people read your blog and then think kind, loving, healing thoughts about you and your family. That can NOT be a bad thing. That said I will now fold up my magical soapbox, put it in my pocket and go back to lurking.

[Carma]

Just thought I would drop a line to let you know I enjoy your blog; I'm sorry to read about your recent struggles. As an aspiring writer, I like your writing style.

[Karly]

I'd be puking too. I hope your baby girl is okay. And you too.

[Mauigirl52]

Oh, I'm so sorry she's continuing to have the seizures. I hope you and her doctors can figure out the right level of meds really soon. Just wanted to say I'm thinking of you and sending positive thoughts to you and your family.

[Cinthia]

Just said a little prayer for Kathryn. I hope things get better and the seizures stop. I read where you said Kathryn hates falling asleep because she will miss out on something, and that is tooootally how I feel about falling asleep. Except I'm 27.

[claire's mom]

i'm so so sorry. what a scary week you've had. i can't even imagine. sending you lots of very still non shakey vibes.

xo

[Lindsey]

When out son landed in the hospital twice in two months, unable to breathe and turning blue (asthma), we entered a weird fear limbo. I'm sure you know it: that place where you're filtering the world through a single diagnosis and never quite worry-free.

We stayed there, uneasily hoping for stabilization and doubting our ability to cope/home medicate for months--up through and beyond the birth of our second child--and even well after we worked out the right mix of meds.

Reporting from the other side of fear limbo, I can say that our son is great, happy, and normal. He takes it all in stride, and we've learned to not worry every time he leaves our sight. We're good. You'll get there, too, I promise. (Probably much earlier than we did. You're so level-headed!)

Good wishes for your girl.

[Trudie]

My heart goes out to you and your family.

[Susannah]

Hang in there and remember to breathe. All the best to you and your brave sweet daughter.

[Krys72599]

I have an in with the Big Guy, and I'm going to say a bunch'o'prayers for you and your Kathryn. Puking helps, I swear. (Don't you always feel better after you puke?!?)
I had some seizures at age 16, not as severe as Kathryn's seem to be, but I grew out of them; the only thing left is a dizzy spell once every couple of years. No meds were necessary so obviously I wasn't in K's position. But with you for her dad, she's a shoe-in to just grow right through them. They'll just be a part of her life you all deal with when they happen.
Praying, too, they find the right dosages/meds for her SOON!