In lieu of my HDMR, I'm going to write to address our evening last night. First of all, we are fine. Exhausted, but fine. Tesla was diagnosed as having a simple febrile seizure. Apparently it is common in 2% of the population. As it was explained to us, some kiddos have to do a "reset" when the spike in temperature gets too high for their brain. The brain triggers this reset as a defensive response. The child is not affected. No lower IQ, no developmental delays, no issues to the brain or physical issues. For the parents, you get the hell scared out of you and probably shed at least a gallon's worth of tears. Let's not even go into the details of the number of gray hairs I received.
Last night, after the Sugarbean's birthday celebration, I turned off the TV and went to sit in our little sitting area. Don was holding Tesla as she slept, Mari was in her room coughing up a lung. We were having one of our "dreaming big" discussions and were making plans for our home for the future. We were both commenting on how blessed we were. Our kiddos have been sick. This isn't a surprise. To hear Mari hacking in the other room was heartbreaking, but we were advised that it was good for her to cough up whatever she needed to get out. I heard her whimpering, so I went to check on her. The whimpering turned to full on wailing and she sprung out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She told me her mouth was on fire. I gave her water and started to pour out a small dosage of cough syrup so she could rest. Then I heard the loudest scream/shriek Tesla has ever made, followed by two very, very large gasps of air.
I ran to the office and looked at Don, looked at Tesla, and got out, "What happened." In his calm, but authoritative voice (which I still have a difficult time understanding because I'm used to panic and yelling), "Tesla is having a seizure. Call someone." I fumbled with my phone and of course, I struggled with it. I got 911 on the line. I checked on Mari whose "fire mouth" had calmed down. She rushed to my side and grabbed my leg. I started giving the details to the operator and grabbed Tesla. I held her close to me as her body convulsed. It was just twitching. Like a bug twitches before it dies. Her pupils were constricted so tightly as her eyes rolled around. There was nothing I could do. NOTHING. I did my best to talk to the operator. For 5 minutes she had that seizure. Worst 5 minutes of my life. I felt like I was trying to contain a gallon of water in my hands, but it just kept slipping out. I couldn't hold tight enough. I just talked to her. Kept talking to her.
Then the paramedics arrived. By this time, she had stopped. She came out of it confused, disoriented, then eventually, pissed off. She started crying and that was music to my ears. They examined her on a pillow on our kitchen table and she wasn't moving like she normally does. She just laid there crying. They told me that we were going to go for a ride, so I grabbed my things. Poor Mari staring at me, at us. "Mommy, are we going to the hos-table? Is Tesla ok? Mommy, are you sad? I'm sad! Mommy, don't leave me." I told her I was going to ride with Tesla in the ambulance. She was going to ride with Daddy and for her to go grab her shoes and coat.
The ride over was bumpy and full of fussing and irritability. I jumped at every twitch, afraid it would start again. She was really intrigued by the mobile machine they were using to monitor her. In between tears, I made small talk with the paramedics. Each of them had children. One of them had 4, his youngest daughter had just turned 6 months. In unison, they all told me it was ok and that they understood my pain.
We got to Children's and as they were unloading her, Tesla smiled at the paramedic. By the time they checked us in, she was cooing. When we were settled in the room, I changed her diaper. She had completely evacuated her system during the seizure. After some initial tests, I nursed her and let her sleep. She slept intermittently while we had several tests conducted, one of which was RSV. Mari watched TV and thought the whole ordeal, while scary, was fun. She liked the hospital and the firemen. For her, it was a nice birthday present and she kept asking if we could do it all again. Sorry baby, this is something we don't ever want to do again. Ever! It's been a year since we were at Children's, I hope we don't make this an annual thing.
Diagnosis: bronchiolitis. We need to suction her frequently, monitor the temperature and treat with motrin/ibuprofen, and if she has another seizure, bring her in. If she struggles with breathing, bring her in. If her temperature gets over 102, bring her in. We have a follow-up visit with our doctor this afternoon.
We got home before sunrise and after shedding some more tears, we all settled in for some rest. Thank you all for your kind words and messages, especially those of you who have shared your similar stories. Reading about them, then seeing your bigger kids, knowing they have grown up ok, are growing ok, brings much, much comfort. We are so very, very blessed. We will keep you posted as we learn more.