Well, the new year is opening up to a continent up in flames, a potential world war with an unstable country, and personal chaos here at Apt. 11D.
In late November, Ian had a little seizure. He drooped out of a chair right in front of me. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but it was alarming. I called doctors, and the tests started.
The weekend, he had a 48-hour EEG test. I picked him up from school on Friday afternoon and took him to the neurologist’s office. The technician wired his head up with about two dozen electrodes that were glued to his head. Then she covered it up with gauze. He said he looked like a nun. The wired snaked down his back and connected with an satchel that recorded his brain waves.
We also got a camera with a small tripod that recorded him all day. He carried the camera from room to room setting it up on nearby desks and tables. At night, he switched that camera to infrared mode, so even his sleep was recorded.
Because we were grounded for the weekend, I decided to tackle some big chores. We rented a steamer from Home Depot, and Steve, Jonah, and I stripped wallpaper from the office and our bedroom. It’s going to take another couple weekends to finish stripping, spackling, and painting, so I’m living in a construction zone right now. My office has been temporarily moved to a family room. I hope I can concentrate in a new space.
Yesterday, I dropped off the equipment at the office. I didn’t expect to hear from the doctor to the end of the week. Because he hasn’t had any other incidents, I believed that we were going to get a shrug from the doctor. I really thought that she was going to tell us that that this was a one-time thing and not to worry.
But then the office called me at 4:00 and asked if we could get there at 5:15. I did 10,000 steps just pacing around my living room.
Short story. He has epilepsy. And we have to do an MRI in a couple of weeks to rule out a tumor.
I just took on a quickie writing project to distract me for the next week. I’ll be back here, but blogging will have to take a backseat to home and work priorities until we sort things out. My life is a construction zone right now.