Helpless

Helpless. That's how I felt as I watched EMT carry my daughter out of the house on a gurney and put her in the ambulance. I couldn't do anything to make her better. I couldn't get her to come around and be cognitive. I couldn't do anything for her. I hate that feeling.

I woke up to her seizing in the early hours of the morning. I called my fiance panicked just to make sure I wasn't over reacting, and then he said to call 9-1-1. The next few minutes seemed like an eternity. As far as responding to the call goes, I suppose they did a great job getting there in just a few minutes, but she was still seizing when they got there and I was so afraid that she was going to stop breathing and I would have to start working on her. The ironic thing is that just a week ago we were working on infants and children in our CPR-PR class and my partner had expressed to me how hard it would be to work on a child. I readily agreed, never thinking that that would be an option for me as my child was thankfully so healthy, or at least that's what I thought.

Eight minutes is an eternity when you are watching your child, completely incoherent, eyes rolled back, biting on her tongue, arms and legs flailing, and you can't do anything. This is what is called a prolonged seizure since most of them are about seven minutes and thirty seconds shorter than hers. You never think that someone so healthy would just not wake up in the morning and be coherent.

In the course of today I've gone from seeing her completely incoherent, not being able to form words, slurring everything, not being able to move the left side of her body, seeing her being poked and prodded and sedated and imaged. It's been a long day. I would do anything to have my little girl back and normal again. Hopefully tomorrow will be even better. Tonight she spent a good 10 minutes talking to the animals in the bathtub. She was an emotional wreck, apparently from the medication and everything makes her cry. She is seeing flying fish, sheep and kitties, spiders, ants, you name it she's probably seen it tonight. She can't walk by herself as she has no balance, but she's alive. I looked at her little face today in ER just wanting her to be cognitive again that it doesn't matter if her speech comes back as long as her mind is there, I will do anything it takes to have her normal again. I will do all of the therapy in the world just to have her little mind intact and for her to be herself again. Tomorrow should be better. Hopefully she won't sit in bed yelling at her stuffed animals because they are alive and talking to her. Hopefully she won't be seeing two of everything. She's such a good kid. I hate it that this happened. I'm terrified. I just want to sit here and listen to her breath to make sure that she is going to be okay. I have the best fiance in the world. He's so helpful.

Tomorrow should be better. I hope.