Finn's seizure story & short update.

Three days ago we had a bit of a scare with our little Finn boy.  We've all been sick, nothing serious.  I put Finn down for a nap and after a couple hours I pulled up the camera monitor we have in his room.  He was twitching, but seemed mostly asleep. I closed out of the app and decided to give him 5 more minutes to see if he’d fall back asleep. Since he had been sick I wanted to leave him to rest, if he was still tired.  

The second time I opened up his room cam I felt my heart sink. Leaning in closer I realized he was still making that twitching movement. He was still, silent, and pulsing. It’s a seizure. The thought immediately crept in. I ignored it, feeling dramatic and watched him for a little while. (I've been known to jump to dramatic conclusions, case and point. Damon came home 10 mins late one day and I burst into tears when he came through the door, because I had used those 10 mins to convince myself he had died.) As I watched Finn, his movements continued. Rhythmically and rigidly. I decided to go up and check on him. 

Flipping on the light, and speaking to him was met with twitching, and labored breathing. I leaned in and stroked his fixed body, seeing the foam spilling out of his mouth. His eyes were fixed. I felt a little more panicked, but was sure it couldn’t really be happening.  It would be over in a second.  Dazed, I yelled out to Damon. (He’d stayed home sick that day). Finn didn’t register any of my screams.  I felt my insides turn. This was wrong. Damon came in and immediately but calmly tried to get Finn to respond to him. Nothing. We turned him on his side, he was laying in a pool of his own drool. We gave it a min or two of stroking, squeezing, talking, caressing. He was oblivious. Twitching and trying to breath, trying to breath and twitching. He was breathing though. He’s alive, it'll stop in a second. 

 I called 911. Shaking. I’ve never called 911 before. Does it always take 4 rings to pick up? Finn’s labored breathing filling the dead air in between rings. But he was breathing. He was alive.

The 911 dispatcher asked me for our address first thing. I couldn't seem to answer the question, I kept repeating, 'my baby is having a seizure,'  it's like my mouth and mind were disconnected for a second.  I slowly got the hang of actually listening to her questions and instructions, before blurting out what was on my mind.  Once all the critical information was out of the way I asked if it was okay to hold him.  I thought I remembered in the back of my mind that you aren't suppose to hold a seizing person.  To lay them on their side to protect their airway.  But Finn was so teeny.  I just wanted to scoop him up.  If I could just hold him and try to nurse him, he'd be fine.  That's what my heart kept feeling. But I knew that wasn't a good idea and the dispatcher validated that with a quick, 'no'.  Our call was about 9 mins long, and every minute she'd ask. 'Is the baby still seizing?'  Each time her tone seemed a little more incredulous to me. I could have just been me projected though.  I still wasn't 100% convinced he was having a seizure.  I felt like so much time had passed.  How could this be a seizure? The dispatcher assured me help would be there soon, and if Finn did stop seizing to not let him get up and walk. To tell him firmly to stay laying down.  Which got a big side eye from me.  Like. He's 10 months old. I don't think telling him to do anything is going to be effective. Scratch that, for sure any verbal instruction to him isn't gunna do nothin!  Then she hung up.  I thought they weren't suppose to hang up til help came.  Hollywood! You set me up with false expectations!

I ran into my room and pulled on some jeans while Damon stayed with Finn. I didn't even think to put on deodorant, brush my teeth or my hair.  We'd been sick, and my morning had been filled with taking care of sick kids.  I hadn't gotten to me yet.  Oh well. I rushed into the family room where we'd sent the girls.  I warned them that some people would be coming in to help Finn and that they were to stay in the family room and watch a show, so that Finn could have the help he needed.

Damon was on the phone with his parents, asking them to come asap, to watch our girls.  His voice was cracking.  Damon's only cried twice since I've met him. I'd later find out he almost cried several times throughout the day.  But for that moment he looked completely calm, collected and in control as he held Finn on his side and 'shh'-ed him soothingly. 

The firemen beat the ambulance. I was surprised how slow they seemed to be moving.  Not one time was the world Stat uttered.  (c'mon Hollywood)  and despite the room being filled with 6 adults now, the air was silent.   They gave Finn an oxygen mask and assessed his color for oxygen deprivation.  Then they explained they'd be giving him some medication up his nose to stop the seizure.  Damon and I stood next to each other with baited breath. They gave him the meds but it didn’t work. They gave him a second round. Nothing. More twitching, and labored breathing, wringing hands, shaking, foaming, anxious looks and silence.  So much silence.  

Damon and I didn't touch, as I kept going back and forth from the crib and rubbing Finn's body, to leaning next to Damon on the wall. I just wanted to hold him. The paramedics came. There were now about a dozen people crammed into Finns room. The paramedics gave Finn a shot of medication in his thigh. We waited. No change. One more shot. Waiting. He went limp. His eyes fixed to the ceiling, his breathing shallow. For the first time there seemed to be a sense of urgency as one of the paramedics grabbed Finn and cradled him while rushing out of the room. I’ll never forget the way Finns legs and arms fell unnaturally in the paramedic's arms. It was as if Finn was a rag doll. Limp. Lifeless. Eyes fixed and vacant.  He didn't look like Finn.  I raced behind the paramedics down the stairs. Into the ambulance. Trying not to be in the way. I wanted to hold him. They were bagging him, helping him breath. 

20 mins. It had been 20 mins from the time I finally went to check on him, to when they got his seizure to stop. Who knows how long he’d been seizing before I checked on him.  I wish I had more sense of urgency when I first noticed the twitching on the baby monitor.

I called a neighbor over to help watch the girls while we waited for Grandma & Grandpa to come, so that Damon could follow behind the ambulance.  She dropped everything and was over seconds later.  

On the ride to the hospital Finn had several smaller seizures. There was a bald fireman who insisted on riding in the ambulance with us. I never caught his name. I'm glad he was there. He bagged Finn the whole way to the hospital. He talked so sweet to Finn and encouraged him to come back. I know it’s silly, but it comforted me a little, that the face Finns glossy eyes were trying to focus on, looked similar to Damon’s. Maybe that would make the experience less scary. I was scared.

The paramedics continually poked and flicked and pinched Finns lifeless body. Trying to get a pain response. His left side slowly began to react. But his right side remained fixed. Down to his eye. His right pupil would not respond. Dilated and unholy it lay still. The whole time Finn had not made a sound. Not one noise. His silence rattled in my brain. The paramedic told me Finn was paralyzed on the right side of his body.  He mentioned he’d never seen it in real life, but it can happen after a seizure. He cautioned that it should go away with time but that it could be permanent.  Permanent? Did that mean Finn has brain damage?  His seizure was so long.  Why didn't I act faster when I first checked on Finn!?

We got to the hospital, Finns teeny body barely registered on the gurney. They transferred him to the hospital bed and I remember thinking it was silly that it took four of them to move his limp baby body from the paramedics gurney to the hospital bed. He still didn’t move. His eyes kept rolling back in his head. There was a mini pow wow of information exchange, then the bald fireman’s gave me a bear hug and asked me to keep him up to date. The paramedics shook my hand and then they left.  Only to continue on with their pow wow outside our room with hospital staff for another long while.  I wish I could have heard what they were saying.  I was really hoping that despite my obvious disheveled appearance they weren't finding me unfit or at fault.

Damon appeared and we both melted back to the side of the room so the nurses could work.  Within seconds they had efficiently hooked Finn up to a million monitors with a million wires.   Lots of questions and paperwork and people rotating in and out of our room.  It's all a blur now.

The first sound Finn made sent shrieks and yelps of joy throughout all of the hospital staff in the room.  I felt like I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.  It was a small whimper, but Finn was coming back. Fast forward to the moment they finally let me hold him. Fast forward through 5 hours of tests, and pokes and sticks and crying and trying to help Finn nap. Fast forward through when Finn finally moved his right side again. Fast forward through lots of waiting and worry and exhaustion.  

After all the tests came back, and consulting with a pediatric neurologist we were told, it was probably just a febrile seizure. They don’t know what else to call it. The intensity and longevity of the seizure posed some concerns. Finns CT scan, urine, blood work, X-rays, all came back without any indication for seizures other than a mild ear infection and bronchitis. Because of the weird parameters of Finns seizure they left the option open to us.  Did we want to stay the night and have Finn admitted to be monitored.  ( this would have involved another transfer to a hospital in Boise) or did we feel comfortable going home.  Damon & I both leaped at the chance to take Finn home.  He had barely slept since we arrived and was so sick and exhausted.  We knew a night in the hospital would have left little room for sleep.  we are scheduled to follow up with an EEG to monitor brain activity.

The ride home was hard.  There was a lot of construction, a lot of traffic, and Finn couldn't get comfortable, which meant a lot of crying.  It was a great reminder to me, as Damon tried his best to get us home as quickly (and safely) as possible, to be kind and courteous to other drivers.  We had to merge into lanes at some pretty inopportune times. I made a mental note to always be that person that lets others in.  It takes maybe a few seconds off your day, and you never know what kind of day that other car has had.  If you can spare the time, do it.  

 We dropped off prescriptions and got home late, Finn was understandably exhausted, fussy and weary of any face that wasn't mine. We were overwhelmed with love and support from family, friends and neighbors.  We are so thankful for all the prayers and kind words, dinners,  visits, calls, texts, and messages.  We are so incredibly blessed.  We gave Finn a blessing and have been keeping a close eye one him.. (Cue me not sleeping and spending the night zooming in on his little face, feet and hands and squinting real hard to be sure one toe twitch was just a twitch, while the sound on his baby monitor is blaring and picking up dust falling.)  He's been fussy and extra tired, but improving. 

 All the fuss is slowly dying down and we are starting to feel more and more comfortable, albeit still a bit anxious.  Damon's mostly nervous about what this could mean, long term, for Finn.  Which, I'm mostly nervous about the short term.   So, right now we both have a lot of emotion and not many productive outlets, which makes me feel dramatic.  The scary part is over, so I wish my feelings would quit too.  It's getting better with time though. Meanwhile Damon and I just take turns smothering Finn and being overly aware of how much we love him.

I know these videos could be uncomfortable for some people to watch, so be aware, they are small clips of Finn having his seizure