March 3, 2014
“QUICKLY!” In my house that could mean a million things. Emily has tried again to put Kitty Sunday in the dishwasher. Lauren can’t find the remote. Grace is having a nail polish emergency. But at 2 am, “QUICKLY!” can’t be good.
I couldn’t sleep again and was downstairs watching Will and Grace and googling how to make a pretty crudités. Random. “SANDIE COME HERE! QUICKLY!” And I knew. Seizure. Again.
Paul was at Emily’s doorway waving me in. Maybe another minute longer and we would have left for the hospital, but she started to come out of it. She didn’t even know it happened.
She had her first (maybe, at least it was the first we were aware of) back in the early summer. It lasted too long for me. It was at least 15 minutes from when we first saw what was happening until she was in the ambulance driving away, and she was unresponsive half the drive from the Pfafftown to the hospital. Too long. She was evaluated and hooked up to wires and beepy things. The doctor assessed her based on what he saw, which was basically nothing at that point. He gave us referral info for the neurologist but said it takes a long time to get appointments. We made an appointment, but had to cancel because of a schedule conflict, and didn’t reschedule Our fault. Shoulda. But so much time had passed and she didn’t have anymore episodes and, quite honestly, I felt really good to remember the doctor downplaying it and saying “she looks fine now. Maybe she was just sleeping. Sometimes it’s hard to wake a child up. Maybe she was just sleeping.” But I know what I saw. Shoulda.
But on this night, “QUICKLY!” I wish I’d had the presence of mind to video it. I want something to show the doctors this time. Paul is taking her for a sleep deprived EEG this Thursday. Then we meet with neurology at some later date.
Here’s the thing…hours earlier when I was helping her get jammies on, she said “Mommie, can I sleep in your bed? When I try to sleep, I feel a hand touching my head. I know nobody’s in my room, but I feel somebody’s hand on my head.” Not monsters in her closet. Not shadows on her wall. Not squeeks in the ceiling. She feels a hand on her head. After she fell asleep in her bed, I went in and stretched out my arms over her body and prayed protection over my girls, but mostly Em. I prayed quietly. Afraid to wake her. But mostly I was afraid of whatever might want to touch her head. Maybe if I just pray meekly God can just sneak in and do what He does without stirring anything up. Oh where was my boldness?! God doesn’t sneak attack!
So after the seizure, there were four of us snuggled in our bed. Paul, Emily, me, and all my questions for God. Why would this happen after I prayed? What’s wrong with Em? Whose hand is she feeling? Why wasn’t she protected? Did I stir something up? Should I have prayed more quietly? Was Emily being punished because I didn’t pray more boldly? Am I being punished for my lack of faith? And on it goes. Then a quiet realization that it’s possible it was God’s hand. An angel’s hand. Or not. But possible. And there’s nothing I could stir up that God hasn’t already provided protection against. And she is protected, regardless of outcome or boldness. And God isn’t angry at Emily. He isn’t punishing her. And He isn’t angry at me either. He isn’t holding my meek efforts against me. He over-gives protection. Everything. And nothing is wrong with Em. She may have seizures. But nothing is wrong with Em.
But I had to wonder why He let me know about someone touching Emily’s head just hours before a seizure. I think He was preparing my heart for something. He set my heart toward prayer ahead of time, knowing that His heart was set toward me since before time. But I’ve noticed He does that often for me. In 2007, I went to see a friend who died and was resuscitated after a horrible moped accident. She was in Baptist ICU with massive head trauma. I cried at her bedside and prayed. About 3 hours later, I was back at ICU with Lauren. Bike accident. Head trauma. And just this spring, a sweet Sista cried to me that her daughter was dealing with a difficult battle. After 2 days of fervent prayer I was surprised to learn that My Gorgeous has the same struggle. And many other examples.
And so it goes. We will start this navigation through neurology on Thursday. Thankful beyond words for the opportunity God gives me to pray for Oh Emily. Thankful for His protection over her. Thankful none of this caught Him off guard like it has for me.