Beckett had a seizure last night, his third in six months.
I reacted in classic fashion, by becoming so stressed and nervous that I passed out cold. I felt my heart racing. I knew I needed to sit, but I had no idea I was about to hit the ground.
I woke up on the floor to Heidi on the phone with 911. I sat up, woozy. A few minutes later, the paramedics arrived.
EKG, and blood sugar test, vitals and do you know where you are? Me, pale and sweaty.
Beckett, already recovered, looking on with concern; Heidi at his side.
We went to the ER, where they ran more tests. All normal. Blood, EKG, pulse, respiratory rate.
Diagnosis: I freaked. My heart went nuts. It couldn’t get enough blood to my brain.
Temporary, forced outage for Ed.
* * *
As for Beck, you may recall this happened a while back. The ER doc initially dismissed that first seizure we witnessed the aftermath of in September, but his pediatric neurologist did not.
He’s having Benign Rolandic Epileptic Seizures. It sounds serious. But they’re quite common in kids. And he’ll eventually outgrow them.
Just one more feather in this poor kid’s exceptionally overloaded medical cap.
It hurts me to watch him. He’s been through more in his first 9 years than many people undergo in a lifetime.
And I’m obviously scarred. All these trips to the ER; they’re taking their toll on my mind. With each illness, each instance, I feel like the paranoia gets a tighter grip.
But like all of the other instances with Beckett, he’s going to be okay.
We’re going to be okay.
And, as an added bonus, Heidi probably got to do something she’s wanted to do for years: slap me across the face.
That was her solution to wake me up, when I was lying out cold on the floor.
She said it didn’t work. I think it did.
Brody made a comment at the grocery store today as she was bagging our haul:
“Everything in my bag is GREEN!” she said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Yes it is.”
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