March 1, 2008 will be a night that I never forget. I saw the eyes of my 19 month-old daughter roll back into her head. Her body shivering and quivering, like a spasming fish on land, making every effort to get out of a boat and into water. Vomit pouring out of her mouth and down her tiny little dinosaur pajamas and on to our living room couch. My daughter was having a a seizure and my wife and I had no idea what to do to help her.
While my wife was able to console her and turn my daughter's head to the side, I somehow mustered enough composure to dial 911. Once connected I was able to speak with one of the most wonderful people I will ever meet, an operator named Lisa that knew exactly what to do. Lisa helped my wife and I keep our daughter alive until the paramedics came to our home. By the time they arrived, she had stopped convulsing and at times it seemed as if she was no longer breathing. Her body was just laying on the couch, devoid of any motion. I was no longer certain if I was a father.
My wife road with Allison to the hospital and I gathered things at home and arranged for the dog to receive care while we were away. On the drive from our home to the hospital my mind ran every horrible thought one could have -- what if Al were no longer alive? What if she was going to face life with some sort of damage? It was a horrible 30 minutes. 30 minutes I never want to experience again.
As it turns out, Allison had suffered a feveral seizure. Something that about 3% of all children will suffer through and something that has a 30% chance of happening again. Luckily, she suffered no damage and other than being groggy today, she is was the same wonderful little girl that she had been on Friday. A wonderful little girl that I can't imagine life without.
I thought I received a new perspective on life in July of 2006, when our house was struck by lightning the day after Allison was born. Let's say that my perspective on life has once again been altered. I want to enjoy every second I have with Allison. Every second I have with my wife. The "me time" that had been so important to me is no longer. I'll put-off a little sleep in order to hear Allison laugh, or have her put stickers in my belly button. This time is too precious.
7 comments:
I am proud of you and your wife for being so brave. It's the hardest thing in life, watching your child suffer and fearing like that.
Dilf and I had a similar situation with Elder when she was 18 months old. Watching someone put an IV in your baby's tiny arm is not easy.
But little bodies heal so much better and more completely than our big clunky adult bodies. I am sure she'll be fine.
You'll just be terrified every time she gets a fever, is all. So you have that to look forward to.
My best to you.
I'm here via Ubermilf and I just want to say I'm glad your daughter is all right. I'm across the mountains from you, I live in Johnson City and the girlfriend and I are in Asheville hanging out and exploring, usually downtown, usually once a month. Take care.
That totally just made me cry and I'm going to go squeeze my daughter until she pops as soon as I finish writing this.
I am so glad your little one is okay and am sending you and your family the warmest good wishes through the internets.
Thanks! I appreciate it. Saturday was a night I would love to forget. But things will get better!
Dr. Monkey, let me know the next time you are in town, we can grab a beer or something.
Darth:
That has to be the most frightening experience you can go through. My best to you and your family.
As a side note...my very earliest memory is being taken to the hospital as a very, very young child after suffering a feveral seizure. I vividly remember being dunked in a bucket of ice at the hospital in a desperate attempt to lower my body temperature.
My parents spoke of the horror they experienced. Luckily, it never happened again, and other than a propensity for snark and cynicism, I seem to have survived the experience unscathed. :-)
I'm not trying to make light of your situation. My thoughts are with you all.
I can't imagine anything worse than that. I'm so glad your daughter is going to be fine.
You never truly understand what it's like to be really vulnerable until you have kids.
Thanks for sharing that.
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