I have thought of blogging for a while now but it hasn't been easy to put my thoughts down. I wanted to share the story about my son with the hope that it will help at least one other person going through a similar experience. My son is now seven and a half, growing by the day, enjoying his new found brain and experiences, a joy to behold and I can't stop saying how proud I am of his abilities. It all started four and a half years back on New Year's eve.
We had two healthy, happy children (we still do) – a five year old daughter who was way mature beyond her years and an almost three year old son. I had worked for fifteen years in the tech. world. Having two small children, extremely long work hours for both of us and with my daughter soon to start kindergarten, I was rethinking my career. I hadn't been motivated for several months now and it seemed like the right time to make a career switch – call it a mid-life crisis – I felt like I just had to spend more time with my children. I really wanted to teach, that too little children in elementary school and it seemed like why did I do engineering at all? So, I decided to take my CBEST and turn in my resignation. It all seemed just right, how very right I would find out really soon. This was October 31st, 2003 – my last working day in the tech. world so far.
Life continued for a month and a half with my daughter's(R's) school, volunteering, son's daycare, husband's job, and my catching up on odd pending jobs at home. In December, we had planned to travel for about two weeks – go to Los Cabos, Mexico for a week, followed by driving from the Bay Area to Portland to visit my cousin and family with a new baby. We had a fantastic trip to Mexico of course, relaxing on the beaches, visiting their old town, even traveling with the kids on the local bus. Our drive to Portland was fantastic too – the changing landscape, driving through ice and snow, driving at a really relaxed pace and enjoying the time as a family – we forgot about the water leak problems which we had since November – a huge one on Thanksgiving weekend in our room – and another one which we discovered in between our two trips. By the time we got back home on December 31st, 2003 it must have been close to 9 p.m.. In spite of having had a really good time, we were really happy to be home, the kids more excited than us, getting back to their toys, especially their new ones that they had acquired for Christmas. Normally, I would have taken them to bed between 8 and 8:30. However, they were so excited to be back that I let them be and said that I would take them in about ten minutes – this was at about 9:15. My son, V, was banging on his drums, R was playing the morroccas and I was sitting in the family room with them reading some magazine.
Suddenly I realized that one voice was missing – I look up and see V lying flat down on the ground. I panic – about three-four weeks before that an ex-colleague of mine had lost her 18 month old son – that thought is foremost in my mind and I scream. I pick him up – no response. He isn't looking at me – I am paranoid, yell for my husband in the next room, he comes running. He can't figure out what's going on. I ask R what happened – she is all of five years old so her response was – I don't know. My first instinct was that he had swallowed one of her small toy pieces – he used to put several things in his mouth. So I do what I have seen my grandmother do with my brother when he swallowed objects – hit him on his back did whatever to get a response – no response. I could not think. The kids and me were in our pyjamas. My husband says – lets go to emergency – that would be way faster than trying 911. Also, I had called the clinic but was on hold for a long time and of course, we had no patience, not knowing what had happened to him. Within minutes of returning from a fantastic vacation, all was forgotten. In the meantime, R started to cry – she was really frightened – I had to leave her consoling to my husband since my biggest concern was V not knowing what was going on. We get into the car with me still trying different things to get a response, thinking he has swallowed something. I stick my fingers in his mouth, and it causes him to throw up. As soon as that happened, he started howling. I was relieved that he was howling because I had finally got a response – he was alive!! His crying however, caused R to howl even more. So, we could have treated it as a funny situation but it wasn't – two kids howling and me sitting in my pjs with puke all over me. Its weird how situations change one's perspective! It is also weird how some incidents remain etched in one's brain – I have the pictures vividly in my brain four and a half years later. Life completely changed its course and I have learned so much from this but more from my son who continues to teach each of us every single day of his existence.
Upon reaching the hospital, my husband dropped us off at the entrance – me and V. He went off to park with a still-howling R. The attendant was very matter-of-fact – your son is crying so he is fine – alive and breathing – we will call you when your turn comes. I can barely fill out the form with my shaky hands. The emergency room is full on New Year's Eve. I spot R's pre-school teacher in there – and I am not in a mood to say hi or talk and she realizes that. She herself looks disturbed. In the meantime R comes in with dad and sees her ex-teacher and rushes to her who not only calmed her down but took care of her through most of the night – our adventure in emergency didn't finish till almost 4 a.m.!!!
Someone calls for V so the two of us go to the assigned room. Here now, I am blurry on some details – we were both exhausted – we had driven for almost the entire day, something had happened to him and I had to explain what and why we were there. It took a very long time – hours – before the doctor actually came in. He asked me several questions – at the end of it he said that it sounded like V had had a seizure, not swallowed something but in order to confirm things, he asked that we get an xray done, a cat scan and something else. He also asked us to make an appointment with his pediatrician on the next working day, January 2, so that we could check in with her as well. All these tests seemed to take forever – we heard the doctors and nurses celebrating the start of the new year down the hallway and I was getting really frustrated – don't they realize that I have been waiting here with my three year old for a very long time, not knowing what has happened to him?
At some point that night I remember R's ex-teacher dropping her off saying that she was leaving. She is one of several persons we are indebted to for helping us along the way. It seemed Godsent that she was there that night to take care of R when she seemed so inconsolable. When everything was done, I was too tired to think – was it a seizure, what's next – what do we do? He was so very tired, I just wanted to take him home and get him to sleep. Who knew what was in store?
We met with his pediatrician on January 2nd, 2004 – so here was a whole new year – we should be celebrating but we just couldn't. His pediatrician said that it certainly sounded like a seizure, that it might be a freak case but to be on the safe side, lets order for his EEG, EKG and MRI. I told her to go ahead with whatever she thought necessary.
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