pressure cooker

Wow, it has been quite a month. A really oddly stressful one, but for each crappy day and overwhelming moment, I was able to keep it together and at least feign composure until I could cry for 2 minutes, say a prayer and then go back to the task at hand with squared shoulders.

The seizures that Eamon started having a month ago are still around. He had an abnormal EEG (which monitors his brainwaves). That test alone was so traumatic. All it is is about 20 or so electrodes placed on distinct measured points on one's head, then you sit still for 45 minutes and let it scan your brainwaves. Well Eamon hates people touching his head. So Greg held him while I pinned his arms down and a technician sweat and apologized repeatedly as she measured and marked his head and then place the wires. That was about 30 minutes of hot, sweaty, screaming child. And our boy is so sweet he kept pleading with her: "Please don't touch my head, please. Don't touch." But in that heart-wrenching traumatized way. Finally nursed him so the tech could put on the rest of the wires and he fell into a fitful sleep. Had one seizure during the scan.
Afterward we met with a talk-a-mile-a-minute neurologist who threw a bunch of brain science at us in rapid fire spews for 15 minutes, gave us medication, and set up an MRI for the following week.
We left tired and completely overwhelmed with a loaned book on seizure disorders and way too much information in too little time.

We were both pissed and shocked at how far this medical model of care was from the holistic one we know so well. (And practice.)
What is it with med school that they churn out really smart people who are too stupid to pay attention to emotion? We were just told our 2 year was indeed having seizures and that an MRI would rule out anything "unusual" like "you know, brain lesions or brain tumors". What?! And then we're sent on our way, too quickly, (the pretty drug rep came in with a tray of holiday pastries) like our bellies had been yanked out.

The meds we were given is called Topomax. By Googling it, it seems more commonly prescribed for bipolar disorder, depression, and migraines but originally made for treating seizures.
The only side effects might be (we were told) appetite loss and drowsiness.
We grind up the pellets from inside a capsule and put them in his food. If not mixed well, it tastes really bad and he won't eat it. However, he has definitely lost his appetite, so there's been many days of begging him to eat something. No drowsiness, in fact it seems to keep him up. He's not cranked-wired, but he seems not to be able to sleep despite being really tired. We had a week of him going to sleep at 11pm and waking at 4am and that was it for sleep.

At any rate, my mom came with me for the MRI. Since one has to lay very still for this, they had to put him under general anesthesia. Poor boy. When I got him in recovery he was groggy but screaming and freaking out about the IV in his foot. Then he was fine all day. We were told we might get the results later that day or the next. Ugh, what a wait.
I was scheduled to finally take my NARM skills exam the next day, so I wasn't working that night. I went out to study but had the worst migraine ever (should've tried the Topomax?). Came home and fell asleep around 10pm. I had to wake at 5am for the 3 1/2 hour drive to the test site. At around midnight, Eamon woke up vomiting. Then again at 1, 2, 3, 4. He was so sick from the anesthesia he'd been given. MY head was pounding and we were all sleep deprived. I cried. I already had huge test anxiety and my anxiety only gets far worse when I'm sleep deprived. Awful. I broke down and took some sinus medication for the first time in 15 years. Big mistake. Once on the road I felt like I was going to fall asleep at the wheel. I cried. My head was still pounding and I could barely keep my eyes open from the medication.
A good thing happened though. As I drove, Greg called me. As we talked, I heard our home phone ring. Greg answered it. The neurologist calling to say Eamon's MRI was completely normal!! Hurray! More tears, of course. And prayers of thankfulness. Phew!
The rest of the day was so long and I felt like crap. The midwife evaluator and the models were all very sweet. But I felt like I was stoned. I couldn't bring up the simplest of facts and information. A complete blank. I held my head in my hands and cried in the midwife's bathroom, trying desperately to get my shit together.
Drove home after 4-5 hours there and felt like I did horrible. It was just awful.
Got back into town after the long drive home and had to clean the credit union before going home.
blech.

Christmas was nice. I was happy for the distraction, the time off work and the time around family, although Greg was very sick on Christmas Eve night. And he was in one of his cyclical intense moods where he feels our lives are going nowhere and we're like fish out of water while I'm happy to go along with life blindly. (Not true at all, I just hide my suitcases of anxiety.)

This week proved to be very intense too. Each day bringing with it more arguments, more work. We took Eamon off his meds for C. Eve and day so that he would sleep better, but on the 26th he had about 6-8 seizures that day (as many as he had had total over 3 weeks). So I felt really bad for that. After a day on meds. he was back to normal again.

This week was also the week of getting rid of our animals. Very heart-wrenching. Took my old, 11 year old black cat and my 3 year old cat to the Humane Society. The 3 yo has high chances of being adopted, but the black one not so much and will probably be euthanized. My sister volunteered to take Ook, also 11, but my favorite. Just dropped her off yesterday. My sister's cat and Ook are all growly hissy with each other, but I hope it works out.
Sunday I drop off sweet Agnes Mae to a woman in E. Lansing who takes in rescued basset hounds. Agnes is 8 years old and sleeps about 19 hours a day, and stinks to high heaven despite weekly baths. She smells like a hound dog. I'll miss her though. She's a good girl. I am glad tho, that a sweet retired woman who loves bassets is taking her in. She'll get more attention, more love and care than we can provide.

The good and very surprising news is that yesterday I received the dreaded NARM letter post testing and found that I have passed and can move on to the written exam! I cried my eyes out in huge relief. That was such a hellish day I thought for sure I'd failed.

Phew.
I just yelled at Sarah for not cleaning her room and for being a talking-back little punk. Now I feel that terrible mix of real anger mixed with big guilt for yelling. But what the hell, kids need to see their parents tiffed some times. I can't always "talk" my way through how angry I am. Its counter-intuitive anyway. Oh well, onward.

Get us all dressed and groomed and start running our Saturday morning errands.