Seize the Moment

What a weird few days!

Sunday morning, I was loading up the girls for a quick run to the grocery store.  Eli had spent the night with a friend 30 miles away for an epic 9-11 year old boy video game all night slumber party.

As usual, it was a welcome respite for me that he had others to talk to about video games and code and whatever else it is that 9 year old boys never shut up about.  As I buckled in the baby, my phone rang.  Since I had just texted my BFF and she told me that she'd probably call me from someone else's number, I expected it to be her.  Instead it was the mother hosting the slumber party.

My first thought was, "Fuck.  What did he do?"  I mean, he's a fantastic kid, but 9 year old boys aren't necessarily the best decision makers.  The mom said, "Eli just walked up to me, very anxious.  While he was standing there I saw the entire right side of his face drop, as if there was no muscle tone.  He started drooling and was unable to speak.  This lasted about a minute, while he paced around, and then he said, "Ok, I can talk now".

I scratched my plans to browse the aisles of Winn Dixie and headed their way.  When I got there, his face was back to normal but he was obviously shaken up and scared.  Knowing that some of the signs he exhibited were stroke symptoms, it wasn't even a question whether to go to the hospital or not.  I called Aaron and I called Eli's dad and we planned to just meet at the hospital.

After a very long two days of tests and procedures to rule out a TIA, an EEG finally revealed that he'd had a benign Rolandic Seizure.  And that he's most likely had them in his sleep before.

Our stay at Wolfson Children's Hospital was phenomenal.  Everyone was warm and awesome and they partner with businesses in the community who come in and volunteer time and services.  He got toys, stuffed animals and some kick ass Italian Ice.

So now we just sit back and wait for it to happen again.  At least this time, we'll all know what's happening.  Hell, it may not even happen again.  People keep asking me how I've stayed so calm through all of this.

Prozac.

And it's not cancer.  It's not something we have to worry about getting rid of.  It's not something that will follow him into adulthood.  It's a minor inconvenience, scary for sure, but damn it could be so much worse.