It happened again. This past Thursday, Ryan had two seizures, one around midnight and the other around six in the morning. The first time I managed to keep him from falling off the bed. The second time I was in the bathroom and he hit the floor. He bit his tongue really hard and there is now a blood stain on the carpet that I cannot get out.
There was another trip to the emergency room. Another clear CT scan. Another ER doctor telling me that there was nothing they could do, other than prescribing an anti-seizure medication, and we should call the neurologist.
So I called her office (which is in the building next to the hospital). She didn't come see him. She didn't even call me back.
(We're finding a new neurologist.)
Ryan went straight to bed and slept for twenty straight hours. He got up once to use the bathroom. He ate nothing but a pudding cup in over 36 hours.
The kids were told that he had a really bad headache and that he needed to rest. They're still wondering why I won't let him drive and why our bed is now turned sideways and up against the wall. It may look ridiculous, but there's no way I'm going to let him fall out of bed again.
Me? I think I've cried more in the last few days than I have in the last two years.
And I can't sleep. I've always had insomnia issues, but now I'm actually scared to sleep. We go to bed and I lie there for hours listening to him breathe. Every little movement has me on edge. He rolled over and hit the wall last night and I almost jumped out of my skin.
He's feeling better today and acting more like himself. He still has a bit of a lisp thanks to a still swollen tongue, but his memory is improving and his muscle aches have subsided.
I don't know when I'll let him drive again.
I don't know when I'll sleep again, either.
And I have no idea what to tell the kids.
I gotta tell you, it kinda sucks.