Last week was a tough one. On Saturday, Soren had a seizure on the way to our park play date with his former UCLA teacher Lisa (he always seems to make it rough on her). Then on Sunday he had 3 seizures--2 tonic-clonics and one absence.
But Monday was the doozy. 7 tonic-clonic seizures. After the first 3, I saw how the day was going and gave Soren Diastat, the rectal valium. Now, when all is good, this is supposed to stop the seizures for a good amount of time. Instead, after he woke up from his three-hour drug-induced nap, he had another seizure. And then 3 more following that.
I got the okay to increase Soren's Lamictal again. And even got the okay to give him another round of Diastat (something you are not supposed to do unless desperate because a tolerance to the medicine can build up).
Fortunately we didn't have to do this. I took him to the pediatrician to make sure he didn't have strep throat or an ear infection since Soren doesn't give us the usual signs most kids do. He checked out fine.
And then Tuesday he had seizures, as if the weekend and Monday had never happened. I kept him home with me just in case. Wednesday and Thursday he was very quiet, which is unlike Soren. And then Friday he was back to his chatty, complaining, giggling self.
Our only theory is that he's cutting some of his 2 year molars late, since he was drooling up a storm. So we've been giving him Motrin in the hope that we're cutting doen the pain.
What amazes me is how this all still throws me. I sat home with Soren, giving him oxygen when he seized, giving him the Diastat, trying to feed him. And I through all of it, I was in a daze. As Soren and I hung out, I sat and watched House episodes I had TiVo'ed. Then I watched one again last night with Aaron and I could barely remember watching it before. Little bits seemed familiar, but then other parts seemed totally new.
The fact is, seizures are debilitating. And I'm only having them second-hand. I can't imagine what Soren's going through.