So, it happened.
Yep.
It sure did.
Our appointment with Dr. E went well. If by well, I mean that he told me to totally ignore neurology and go back up on her meds because he figures she's having sub-clinical seizures, which would account for every. single. weird. thing. we've seen in recent weeks, then it truly was an excellent appointment.
Yay.
Disappointing, but in my gut I know he's right. I knew that was probably the case weeks ago when we started noting the behaviour. I even thought I maybe saw the tail end of seizure a couple of weeks ago, but chalked it up to my overactive imagination.
Yep.
So we go home. And she promptly has a seizure.
Damn.
The good news? We haven't seen another one since Thursday night when this all occurred. Mind you, we've been dealing with Abby having the stomach flu, Joseph starting to crawl and discovering just how un-baby-proofed our house has become, and now Rachael having said same stomach flu. So we might have missed it. They're pretty subtle.
Wait and see.
Wait and see.
Damn.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Joke
Rachael is a funny, funny creature. Her world, her imagination, is something to be marveled at, envied even. She makes me laugh by just being her.
Those who know me "in real life" know I come from a long line of witty, funny people. I'm not quite the same caliber as my father and brothers, but I can see in Rachael that same sort of wit and desire to entertain.
So I decided it was time to start grooming her. To tell jokes.
Now, I've never tried teaching a three-year-old how to tell jokes before. Humour has been something that has eluded Abby until fairly recently, and even then she tends to gravitate to the very visual, slap-stick physical humour. Rachael, on the other hand, already enjoys word-play and has a very verbose aspect to her personality. How hard could it be? I thought to myself.
I decided to start with the classic knock-knock joke.
Me: Knock, Knock.
Rachael: deadpan look, no other response forthcoming
Me: Rachael, Mommy says "Knock, knock", then you say...?
Rachael: continues to stare at me
Me: Then Rachael says, "Who's there?" Okay? Let's try again.... Knock, knock!
Rachael: still nothing
Me: "Who's there?"
Rachael: It's Daddy! (giggles)
Okay, so maybe not your traditional knock-knock joke, but she thought it was funny.
Moving on...
I decided to try the infamous Chicken Crossing the Road joke.
Me: Rachael, why did the chicken cross the road?
Rachael: sound of crickets in the background
Me: To get to the other side!
Rachael: Was his family there?
Me: What?
Rachael: Was his family there? And the goat. It should be there too. [Insert three-year-old chatter about a family of chickens that have a pet goat.] And a car.
Me: A car?
Rachael: Yes, a car. They need to drive down the road to get home!
.......
I think I will try getting a book of kids jokes from the library.
 |
| Feeding the chickens. Or so she tells me. |
So I decided it was time to start grooming her. To tell jokes.
Now, I've never tried teaching a three-year-old how to tell jokes before. Humour has been something that has eluded Abby until fairly recently, and even then she tends to gravitate to the very visual, slap-stick physical humour. Rachael, on the other hand, already enjoys word-play and has a very verbose aspect to her personality. How hard could it be? I thought to myself.
I decided to start with the classic knock-knock joke.
Me: Knock, Knock.
Rachael: deadpan look, no other response forthcoming
Me: Rachael, Mommy says "Knock, knock", then you say...?
Rachael: continues to stare at me
Me: Then Rachael says, "Who's there?" Okay? Let's try again.... Knock, knock!
Rachael: still nothing
Me: "Who's there?"
Rachael: It's Daddy! (giggles)
Okay, so maybe not your traditional knock-knock joke, but she thought it was funny.
Moving on...
I decided to try the infamous Chicken Crossing the Road joke.
Me: Rachael, why did the chicken cross the road?
Rachael: sound of crickets in the background
Me: To get to the other side!
Rachael: Was his family there?
Me: What?
Rachael: Was his family there? And the goat. It should be there too. [Insert three-year-old chatter about a family of chickens that have a pet goat.] And a car.
Me: A car?
Rachael: Yes, a car. They need to drive down the road to get home!
.......
I think I will try getting a book of kids jokes from the library.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Anger
Or was it frustration?
Either way, I'm upset. My Abby, my beautiful, wonderful, happy child has turned into a demon-monster. She was doing well in school. She was doing well at home. We were so happy as a family, had a good rhythm going, and was actually at the point were we could live a semi-normal existence. You know, one where you get to leave the house and do stuff with your kids. And they sort of cooperate.
And suddenly... poof!... she was no more.
Now she's aggressive, unhappy, uncooperative. She hits the other kids. She repeats words for 45 minutes or more at a time. She's unable to cope with loud noises, engages in self-stimulating behaviours, and whole nine yards.
*sigh*
Talked to doctor. He says it might be neurological. We've been cutting back one of her meds, with the hopes of weaning her off one (she's been almost 2 years since a seizure).
Talk to neuro. No, no, no, they insist. It must be physical. Don't worry about it. Keep tapering her meds.
So back off to Dr. E we go. I've got five pages (2 from teacher, 3 from me) outlining her changed behaviour. In a small font. Including her attacking another kid with scissors today.
*sigh*
I hate this merry-go-round.
Have I mentioned that Autism sucks??
Either way, I'm upset. My Abby, my beautiful, wonderful, happy child has turned into a demon-monster. She was doing well in school. She was doing well at home. We were so happy as a family, had a good rhythm going, and was actually at the point were we could live a semi-normal existence. You know, one where you get to leave the house and do stuff with your kids. And they sort of cooperate.
And suddenly... poof!... she was no more.
Now she's aggressive, unhappy, uncooperative. She hits the other kids. She repeats words for 45 minutes or more at a time. She's unable to cope with loud noises, engages in self-stimulating behaviours, and whole nine yards.
*sigh*
Talked to doctor. He says it might be neurological. We've been cutting back one of her meds, with the hopes of weaning her off one (she's been almost 2 years since a seizure).
Talk to neuro. No, no, no, they insist. It must be physical. Don't worry about it. Keep tapering her meds.
So back off to Dr. E we go. I've got five pages (2 from teacher, 3 from me) outlining her changed behaviour. In a small font. Including her attacking another kid with scissors today.
*sigh*
I hate this merry-go-round.
Have I mentioned that Autism sucks??
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