9.13.12 Seizures are from Hell

Hell, home of terror and death, must also be the native place of seizures. The fear that Aimee experiences during her episodes is so contrary to her peaceful, joyful daily demeanor. She is always trusting and typically radiating joy and calm. When I see her cross over into fear, those Hell bound seizures are usually on hand.

Yesterday was Aimee's tear duct surgery. They probed through her tear ducts in both eyes and placed tiny silicone tubes through the ducts into her nose. These tubes will stay in for about 4 months. Hopefully after removing the tubing, her ducts will remain large enough to drain tears and keep her eyes free from more infections.

The surgery went well. Ed left work to come wait with me at the hospital. Aimee always takes longer than expected to wake up from anesthesia and I get nervous as I wait. True to form, she kept us waiting awhile, but by the time she was back in my arms, she was fairly alert. Then begins the examination. It really frustrates me how we know so little about what happens with her from the time they carry her away to the time when they wheel her back. I search her arms and legs for how many tries it took to get the IV into her. This time I found 3 failed attempts. I wonder about the blood on her arm or the bruising on her cheek. No parent can completely protect their child, but, for now at least, I am Aimee's defender, since she cannot speak for herself.

After we were discharged from the hospital, we went pick up Caleb. He spent the day with my brother and his family. We were so thankful that they gave us a place to rest and fed us dinner. Before we headed home though, Aimee became afraid and began seizing. I can't even completely remember what she sounded like. It seems surreal to remember. She voiced her feelings really loudly. She wasn't crying, just speaking. Her scared proclamations were mingled with seizures and she had 4 clusters of this combination up until I was able to get her to sleep in her own bed last night.

It seems like the fear that she felt from the whole day's experience was finally coming out. Her mind was finally coming out of the groggy anesthetic fog and connecting with the feelings she had inside. Although the positive side of her expression of feeling and her loud voice are definitely wonderful, the awful seizures and the additional fear that they bring, out weigh the other for me. And I just prayed, as every parent must do in those moments when you have no ability to protect your child from the world or in this case from her own brain. I prayed that those seizures would go back to their homeland.