Thursday, September 18, 2008


My husband, Joey, had his first seizure around the middle of September 2005. This was the month before he was scheduled to have his brain surgery. He was sitting in the recliner in the living around 9:30 in the evening maybe (I know Logan was already asleep and Gracie hadn't joined us yet). I think I was moving around the house putting things away, getting things ready for the next day, starting the dishwasher, etc. when I noticed him shaking. Let me tell you about feeling terrified. I had no idea what was going on. I tried to talk to him and see what was going on, but I ended up calling 911 because I simply had no idea what was going on. They took him in the ambulance to the emergency room and I had to decide what to do about Logan. I don't know if you know this about me, but I am a very independent person. I do not like asking for help. But at this moment I had no choice. I believe Joey's sister happened to not be home, or I'm sure I would've called her. As an alternative, I called my friend Melanie from the bank and asked her to come sit with Logan for maybe an hour and a half while my mom drove to Morehead from Lexington. After I hung up with Melanie, I called my mom and broke down. I was sobbing, terrified that my husband was dying. She calmed me down, Melanie arrived, and I went to the hospital. By the time I got there, the seizure had ended and he was resting. They gave him some anti-seizure meds, some pain meds, and sent us home (if I recall correctly, and I might not - it's been a while since then).

Over the course of the next 5 weeks he continued to have them more and more frequently. I learned to deal with them and that the ambulance was not required every time. After his surgery it was a while before he had one. We had hoped they were gone altogether, but no. He continues to have them sporadically now. But they've changed in severity. Now he shakes a lot, but has trouble breathing, too. That's the hard part now - trying to decide if a ride in an ambulance to the hospital is necessary. That's a scary guessing game to play, because if it goes wrong, it really goes wrong.

I write this because he had one today. He sent me a text message he has programmed in his phone that simply says "seizure." I called him and quickly learned it is much harder to listen to the seizure than watch. At least you know what you're dealing with when you can see him. When he's having a seizure he can't talk, so I basically had to listen to his labored breathing and keep telling him he'd be okay. I ended up rushing home from work when I decided he might need to go the emergency room. He just couldn't catch his breath; he's been fighting a chest cold/bronchitis for about a week, and since I couldn't see him to assess him for myself, and he couldn't tell me how he was, I had to come home and make sure he was okay. He finally managed to get his breath back, took some paid medicine, and went to sleep.

It's been kind of nice being home this afternoon - there are no kids home and I've caught up on some laundry, paid some bills, and emptied the dishwasher. But I'd rather be sitting at my desk and dreading doing all those things later (or let's face it - putting them off some more) than come home because Joey's not well. I just pray God will find a way to allow him some relief from his pain.

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