It's interesting how it takes little boy much less time to get over a catastrophic fit, than it does me. He sleeps for hours, eats, sleeps some more and then he's fine. I spend days, weeks stewing over what happened. Waking up in the middle of the night having panic attacks.
Last Thursday at 8.30am I woke up with a start and realised we were going to be late for school. He was in bed, having a seizure which had clearly been going on for some time. I gave the emergency meds while husband called the ambulance. It was obvious this was going to be a bad one.
The crews arrived in good time and gave more meds but it made no difference so off we went to A&E. In the past he's always stopped before we got to hospital but this time it was much more serious. Wired up to the heart monitors, oxygen mask on and this time tube down his nose as well to stop him choking on any vomit. Cannula in each hand - in goes the intravenous diazepam. This is the first time they've had to do that. It doesn't work. They do it again. He's still fitting.
Husband and daughter come to see him but I send them away. With a big puddle of blood on the floor this is not a scene I want her to see. It's now been at least an hour since I found him and the fit is still going on, so they put him on a Phenyton infusion (anti-epilepsy meds). Its a giant tube, perhaps 6 inches long and one inch thick and it takes a good 15 minutes to go in.
Meanwhile the anesthetists have been called down. There are now 6 doctors and 4 nurses working on my child. I stand at the end of the bay in a state of shock, can't quite believe what I am seeing. The next step is to sedate him, intubate and take him up to intensive care.
Just as they're getting ready to do it, I see his leg move, "Look voluntary movement," I shout, "He's stopping." All 10 people take a step back from their work and watch him. Silence. He moves his arm, then leg again, and then he groans. It's over.
In the end the fit had lasted 75 minutes - at least. The doctors disappear one by one, until only the paediatric registrar is left. We wait for a short while and then take him up to the children's ward to recover.
6 hours later he wakes up, drinks some juice and gets out of bed. A bit bumbly on his feet but he's on the mend and by the next day he's fine.
5 days later and I'm still having nightmares, flashbacks and insomnia. I know it could have been worse. I know he's fine and I want to focus on that. But I'm terrified it will happen again, I'm terrified next time he'll be (more) brain damaged, and I'm terrified that one day this will happen and he'll die.
It's difficult to get over days like this.
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