Bad Things.

Bad things don't always happen in 3's.

Sometimes two is PLENTY. Sometimes two happen at the same time and it's all you can do to get through them, and you just pray a third stays at bay.

My husband has active epilepsy. His medications controlled it for years but ever since our son was born, it's kicked back on. For a while it was Awful, he was having a seizure every other week.

I've come to dread any unusual sounds from his location in the house. My heart drops and my first thought is "Is he having a seizure?"

On top of that, it's been a really rough year for his health. He's had an abscess on his shin that kept him out of work for a couple of weeks. As soon as he went back to work, he broke his foot, and was out for another 6 weeks. (I won't whine about finances- you can imagine I'm sure.)

In this last year he has dropped a Dramatic amount of weight, He looks like a skeleton. He has a very fast metabolism, he's always been skinny, but he is just bones anymore.

His skin color is Not right. Most of the time he's pale and pasty, with increasing yellowish bruising around his eyes.

He's exhausted ALL the time. Sure, he works nights, and doesn't sleep enough - he never has because he's like a stubborn kid who refuses to go to bed. Bad for the epilepsy. But he is just Wiped Out. Become a total hermit- never leaves the house on his days off except to go pick up my stepkids on the weekends. He's just got no energy!

I have been trying for well over two years to get him to schedule an MRI. Or to let me schedule it. He had a seizure at work in March of 08, ended up in the hospital for a few days.

He has refused, and refused, and gets SUPER pissed if I say I am going to take matters into my own hands. Really, the best I can do is find new ways to show him his health issues, new ways to show him his children, and for Their sakes, he needs to find out whats wrong.

This last year, I have been VERY VERY worried. He thinks I'm being dramatic, but I have seen cancer. I have taken care of two people as cancer killed them. I know what it looks like. I am scared. I am scared he has cancer.

He has headaches, bad bad headaches, that have happened with increasing frequency. This weekend he had to call in sick on his last work day, and spent two days huddled in a ball whimpering, crying, when he wasn't vomiting from the pain. Lumps sprung up on his neck, lymph nodes. All around his neck, not just under the jaw and chin where I get them when I am sick.

He refused to go to the hospital. Got VERY upset when I said I was going to call an ambulance. (I won't go into it now, but I have very good reasons for not pissing him off, OK? It's a touchy situation.)

The lymph nodes make me fear even more its cancer. Lymphoma maybe. It could also be aninfection from his teeth- they are in Very poor shape but we can't afford to go to the dentist. Even if we could- he would NOT go until his life was in danger. That's how he is about any form of medical treatment.

God forgive me, I have faith in You, but if I hear him tell me one more time that it's all in Your hands so he doesn't need to go to a doctor, I'm going to SCREAM. In  a pillow. Don't want to scare the baby.

His headache died down but it's still there. He's promised me he will go to the doctor this week, but I don't buy it. His lumps are still there. They grow they shrink they grow and shrink, they don't go away.

Back to the present. He got home from work this morning looking like a worn out rag. I'm glad he made it home- I was worried he would have a seizure at work again. He laid down and catnapped, but got up to smoke a cigarette (another topic for another time, don't get me started.) I go out to sit with him, working on SwagMelt (which still isn't finished yet). His eyes were MEGA bloodshot and his speech (always somewhat slurry from 24 years of tongue biting seizures) was slow and hard to understand. I tried to get him back to bed but he was stubborn as usual, said he was fine, had to go to the bathroom. So in he goes into the little bathroom off the kitchen. I'm washing my hands when I hear the toilet lid go THUNK.

For normal houses, that would just mean someone dropped the lid and had to lift it again. For me, it dropped my heart. I asked, "Are you ok?"  and got no answer, so I quickly went into the bathroom, just in time to catch him on the way down. (Thank you God for all the times you've put me there to catch him!)

As soon as the first wave of the seizure died down I called my stepson and told him "Dad's having a seizure, Please keep extra watch on Isaac." so he put up the baby gate and went into the room to play with him. Such a good boy!

This seizure was about average length, but the second and third wave were longer. These days, after the seizure is technically done, but before he's "himself" again.. that time span is getting longer. It's vitally important he tell me his name, my name, things like that so I know his brain is OK.

It took a while this time, and I was just about to call an ambulance when I heard my youngest Thunk, Scream, Cry.

"Oh SHIT"  I thought, and yelled for Timmy to come sit with his dad, try to get him to tell him his name. Timmy is good, calm, doesn't realize the scariness of what's happening, it's just something he accepts of his dad. He came in and took my spot, I ran out to check Isaac. He'd hit his head (apparently jumped right into the wall in a hyper fit) and was crying like mad. He'd also just taken off his clothes and diaper (despite my best diaper taping efforts) and proceeded to pee all over himself and the floor. Which upset him more.

I got him cleaned up, did a concussion check, soothed him, dressed him, then called for Timmy again. (Thank you Lord for Timmy. He did so good today!) He sat with Isaac and watched a movie while I went back and helped Dad into the bedroom. He still wouldn't tell me his name, but at this point it seemed like he was messing with me (hard to explain, but he has a bad sense of humor sometimes.)

Finally, about 15 minutes after the seizure started, he was able to tell me his name. I had to tell him over and over what happened- that's pretty normal. When I had him undressed, laying down, resting, I called Timmy back in to sit with him for just a little bit. Went back to Isaac's room and checked again for concussion.

The thing that stinks is he always hits his head right before nap time. I'm not supposed to let him sleep, but he was already exhausted. So I sat with him for a while, watching, getting him to respond to different things, then did what I had to.. put him down for a nap. Now I am checking on him every 10 minutes, making sure he's breathing. Dad's asleep, though I had to tell him 3 more times what had happened. He's convinced he's going to work tonight.. and he probably will. Stubborn, and all too aware that without working, we sink. He's used up all of his sick and personal time, and is down to his last week of vacation for the year- a year that doesn't roll over again until next summer.

I am so thankful that God put aq battle medic in my soul. It has served me well time and again. It's one of the reasons I am with Tim, I am sure. But now that it's over, now that I've written it all down, Now I feel like I am going to cry.

What is wrong with my husband? Is he dying? How can I get him to go both to his neurologist, and to a regular doctor to get the lymph nodes / weight loss / skin discoloration / exhaustion checked out?

Is my son ok? Will he have seizures too some day? Tim didn't start having them until he was 12. I think I will be worried about Isaac, AND Timmy & Sofia, until the day I die.

I pray they don't have that burden.

I pray that God finds a way to reach through Tim's stubbornness and prompts him to take care of this health problem before it's too late. Before these beautiful children have to lose their father, feel that ache and emptiness and longing for him.

I pray for the strength to endure whatever comes, and not to cry in front of the kids.

Crisis of Conscience

Having kids changes Everything. 

My neighborhood is not good, but there are worse. However, tonight, I had a battle with myself on what to do. I heard a woman screaming No! No! No! No! No! over and over. My instinct, the old me, took over for a moment. I went to find out WTF was going on and if I needed to call the cops.

(why if? because I have heard someone scream in grief the same way. It's not always an attack.)

I go out there, phone in one hand, improvised weapon in the other, and start stalking in that direction. Then I stopped cold. I wasn't scared for me, but I can not leave my house unattended. I can not risk my life when I have a child depending on me to raise it.

The old me would have gone through the shadows and investigated and called the cops if necessary. Shoot, the old me would probably have had a decent weapon, because I used to have a concealed carry permit. But the new, mom me, had to go back inside, and pray.

Thing about this neighborhood is, you don't squeal if there is a chance of getting caught, because they WILL get you, and your family. That would never have stopped me from calling the police before. But without knowing who, or where, or what, I can not call the police, have them come to my door, signaling not only whoever might be doing something wrong right then that I called the cops, but any of the other dozens of lurking evil-doers that a "snitch lives here". I can not endanger my kids, or myself, because of the kids.

Crisis of conscience.

Its been 20 minutes and I have heard no police. Same crisis of conscience all over the hood, I'm guessing :( I pray whoever was screaming is alright, alive, unhurt. I pray if it was grief, over someones passing away, that God comforts them, and either way that He does what is needed. and I pray for forgiveness for not being able to be the old me, and DO something about it.