Our happily ever after felt as if it was being taken away from us.

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 13

by guest blogger Heather Lens   (Stilwell, Oklahoma)

Madilyn Rae Lens, was born on October 19th, 2012. She was born a perfectly healthy little girl. She was a dream come true! We had no reason to believe 1234820_4656475948570_2025514539_nthat she would be anything but healthy as she hit milestones in her first 5 months of life.

All of those thoughts changed when at 5 1/2 months old she started doing a weird twitch with her arms. I was feeding her and she kept throwing her arms in the air. My mommy instincts went off immediately. Deep down inside I knew something was wrong. Nothing she was doing looked like a seizure to me, but for some reason my mind kept going back to wondering if it was a seizure. After a day of seeing light twitches I took her to her pediatricians office. Unfortunately, her pediatrician wasn’t there so we had to see another provider there. He told me he didn’t think it was anything other than motor reflexes but he would refer us to a neurologist to calm my fears. I left his office that day full of mixed emotions. I was happy that the doctor said it was probably nothing but still had a gut feeling that he was missing something. I had been around my siblings when they were infants and I didn’t ever remember seeing anything like this. I cried the entire way home at the thought of waiting 2-3 weeks for the referral. How could I wait that long for answers? I called my husband and told him something wasn’t right. He immediately left the fire station and came home. That night I consulted the lovely library of Google. Everything I looked at said the term Infantile Spasms. I was sick after reading information about this catastrophic type of seizures. I knew that this is what she had. I cried and told my husband about it and he agreed we would take her to a children’s hospital first thing in the morning. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. My mind was going in all directions. The  next morning, while I was getting her ready to leave for the hospital, she had one of the most intense episodes. Her eyes started rolling up and she would cry like she was in pain. We loaded up and headed for the hospital which was two hours away. The car was silent the entire way. I was able to catch a few of her twitching episodes on the way to the hospital . We got to the ER and we were immediately admitted after the ER doctor saw a video of the seizure. Still at this point no one was calling it a seizure they were calling them muscle spasms, which gave me a false hope that maybe it was nothing.

558704_10100447182455011_1003519270_nAfter being admitted she was put through a million tests, blood, urine, MRI, EEG, EKG and probably more that I 10307367_10200927489788174_5094866193832748621_ndon’t recall now. After her first EEG it was confirmed that our perfectly healthy little girl was having Infantile Spasms and if we didn’t get them under control immediately it could lead to mental retardation. Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. We were devastated and couldn’t seem to figure out how she could have such an awful type seizure when she had been healthy up until now. After they explained her diagnosis of IS they said they also needed to rule out a rare genetic disorder that can sometimes coexist with IS. They were going to check to see if any of her organs were “marked” with a disease called tuberous sclerosis. I remember being 100% confident that they were wasting their time looking for this rare disease. They already told us she had IS, it couldn’t get worse than that. I recall my mom and husband trying to find information regarding TSC online and I got a little angry at them. I didn’t know why they were wasting their time looking at it because she simply could not have a rare genetic disease along with these seizures. I have no doubt that I was going through denial at that point.

The next day we got the heart wrenching news that she in fact had tumors on her brain and heart. She showed enough signs that she did have TSC. My heart broke into a million pieces that day. At one point I do remember feeling as though life was over. I was terrified of our daughters future. All of the things I had envisioned for my daughter was suddenly ripped out of my hands. We were told that she would be delayed, she may need brain surgery, she may never be able to live an independent life. She may never walk, talk, feed herself. It was all doom and gloom. Our happily ever after felt as if it was being taken away from us.

We left the hospital a few days later and were as well equipped as possible for her new type of care. After two days of taking Sabril her IS disappeared! And 1382781_4821538395028_1044385447_nabout a month of being on Sabril we started to see her personality shine through. Although we still had the fear of this disease. she was showing us signs of hope! We waited and watched her like a hawk, anticipating the next seizure.

Fast forward a year. We haven’t seen a seizure since April 26th 2013. We also have been beyond blessed that all those frightening things we were preparing for have not shown themselves. Madilyn is currently on track with her development and is a month away from starting the weaning process.

The past year has been such a whirlwind. Our emotions have been scattered all over the place. Thankfully we have outstanding family members and community that have helped us move forward with life, and have taken on our cause as well. We have seen an overwhelming amount of support for Madilyn and our family. Without the support and our faith we would be lost. I am so beyond thankful for this past year. She has shown me what it means to have courage and strength. She doesn’t stop fighting for one second, which means I wont stop fighting for her either. She is my little fighter, and my constant reminder of true love.

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Check out Heather’s blog Life with My Princess and her contribution to this blog for 2013’s TSC Awareness Month.

He is happy. He is loved.

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 12

by guest blogger Shannon Arndt   (Newport, Michigan)

first placeBladen.  For so long Bladen was my imaginary child.  You see I had his named picked out before I even met his father.  As soon as I heard the name, I knew.  This would be the name of my son one day.  I envisioned a strong boy, popular, good-looking and with a pretty awesome name.  Once I met my husband, Russ, we couldn’t wait to have our first child.  We started trying to get pregnant on our wedding night.

My pregnancy had gone pretty smoothly.  I worked, ate and enjoyed telling anyone willing to listen that I hoped to have a boy.  And as luck would have it, we found out we were having a boy!

Around 31 weeks, I had been running around, arrived late to work and just didn’t feel right.  I called my OB and he said to come in.  They couldn’t get a good heartbeat and said I was really dehydrated so off I went to the local hospital.  There they hooked me up to IVs for fluids and I got to see my baby again via ultrasound.  The doctor said everything looked good but wanted me to come back to see a perinatologist.  We made the appointment and two days later Russ and I were at the appointment excited to see our baby again.

I remember joking around, laughing, looking at the pictures.  Clueless to the technician leaving the room, getting the doctor.  The doctor hadn’t said anything, probably because I was talking so much.  And then it happened.

Another doctor walked in and said, “How many tumors are there?”

I couldn’t speak, I looked at my husband and we both just started crying.  We were handed a copy of a page out of a medical book.  Tuberous Sclerosis Complex.  Not only our lives changed that day, but I changed.

Our son had rhabdomyomas in his heart.  Tumors that were growing in his little heart.  For six weeks, I was monitored twice a week by high-level Daddy and Bladenultrasounds.  Waiting, waiting to find the right time.  I spent my time scouring the Internet for any information and crying, mourning, worrying, feeling toxic to my own child.  Timing was key.  We wanted him to grow and not have other complications, but not too long or he’d go into heart failure.  At 37 weeks, it was time.  His heart started developing fluid around his heart, a sign of heart failure.

The next day, with about 20 doctors in the room, I had a 8lb 2 oz, 21 1/2 inch long baby boy.  His heart?  Well, I literally squeezed the fluid out!

At 5 months, he had his first seizure and shortly after, I quit my job.

I’d spend most of my time going to doctor’s appointments, playgroups, play dates, swimming, anything that would help my son.

12 months, he crawled.

16 months, he walked.

He went to OT, PT and eventually speech.

bladen before surgeryHe’s had numerous EEGs, overnight EEGs, MRIs and ultrasounds.

He went to a special needs preschool at 2 1/2.

A month before he turned 5, he was potty trained!

Two weeks after, he also had brain surgery to remove a SEGA brain tumor.

He started mainstream Young5 with a para-pro.

Then was diagnosed with ADHD.

He started mainstream Kindergarten with a para-pro.

Then was diagnosed with anxiety.

He is currently in mainstream 1st grade with a part-time para-pro for his anxiety.

And, he has made honor roll every quarter so far!

He has friends.

He is happy.

He is loved.

We still have bumps in the road.  We are currently watching another SEGA brain tumor; he has MRIs every 6 months to monitor.  He has a lesion in his eye, cyst in his kidney, tumors still in his heart, epilepsy, ADHD, anxiety, speech delay and with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex, the list will grow.
However, he’s been seizure and seizure med free for a year and a half.  He is currently unaffected by the lesions, cyst and tumors in his body – meaning, he is not suffering.
Bladen is a tall, funny, handsome, smart, loving 7-year-old boy.  And just as I imagined before he was born, he is STRONG.
Family walk

Life With TSC & Autism — Trystan’s Story

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 11

by guest blogger Marie James   (Carmarthenshire, Wales, UK)

8031   1   TrystanTrystan is 27 years old and lives with Perry and Marie, his mam and dad, in Carmarthenshire, Wales, UK.

First written in 2008 for the Tuberous Sclerosis Association (UK) SCAN Magazine and updated for May 2014 TSC Awareness month in the USA and Awareness week of 12th – 19th May in the UK.

Because of the difficulty Trystan has in understanding the world around him we often live life as if treading on eggshells. Since he was a baby we have taken each day, one at a time…

Back in 1987 when Trystan, our youngest son, was only 8 months old we learned that he had TSC.

For him, like many others, it means a life of dealing with the effects of tumours in his brain, heart, IMG_2779kidneys and on his skin, unpredictable multiple types of seizures, learning disabilities, hypertension, osteoporosis and complex autism.

It was in 1995, when he was nearly 8 years old, that Trystan was diagnosed as having complex autism, and the whole family were able to sigh with relief. For us, the diagnosis meant some understanding towards making sense of a range of rather unusual behaviours. These included a constant need for reassurance; the fear, fascination and obsessional relationship; and the difficulties that changing activities can cause, e.g. refusing to get into the bath and once in the water, often refusing to come out.

The additional label of autism was also the key to unlocking access to educational provision that we were seeking at that time, to help address some of Trystan’s fundamental communication and social needs.

Trystan has limited verbal communication and an avoidance of social interaction. When in a group he isolates himself and appears to spend most of his time pre-occupied with his own ritualistic interests and obsessions.

All it takes to trigger obsessional episodes is a clip of an old home video which prompts a need for a long forgotten toy or an advert on television. Trystan has had inconsolable compulsions to acquire such things as tinned cat food – just for the label, as you may have already guessed, we have no cat.

Over the years he has had a wide range of obsessional interests. Some of these developing from an initial fear phobia and fascination phase to a full blown all consuming obsession. For example, from the terror and panic caused if a fly enters a room, to being absolutely engrossed with catching and observing flies in a plastic pot. The desensitising programmes used for this fly phobia start in April of each year when the flies first appear and usually have some effect by September time when flies tend to disappear. With no exposure to flies over the winter months by each April, we are back to stage one, every year! Nevertheless, we persevere.

On occasions, flooding Trystan with exposure to seemingly all consuming obsessions has enabled him to develop some of these obsessions into healthy interests.

Years ago, if Trystan spotted a Mini car whilst out and about on one of our many ‘diesel therapy’ trips, he would insist that we pursue the Mini for a number of miles. As a result of his interest in Mini cars Trystan was motivated to learn more about them, giving us the opportunity to help teach him colours, numbers and letters (from number plates) and even different car models. A trip to a two day Mini exhibition at the NEC in Birmingham in the mid 90’s did the trick as regards flooding him with seeing Minis. Since then he has been contented to observe, pass and thankfully, not pursue.

Whilst most major obsessions have, with a little patience and different resolutions, been turned into such interests, unfortunately not all of Trystan’s obsessions have been as educational, or as easy to resolve. The constant repetitive rewinding of little clips of his favoured videos have left us close to becoming demented on many, many occasions.

Trystan JamesCollecting new clocks or watches is a long term favoured passion with, by now, over 300 accumulated. Random alarms and timers go off during all hours of the day and night, making us jump into immediate search mode to find and switch off the offending timepiece. Trystan is absolutely fascinated by each and every one of his clocks, the sounds, setting the time, the moving hands and the mechanisms. Despite this interest he is unable to tell the time; apart from when it’s three thirty. (His school day finished at this time and Trystan on occasions would turn his class clock forward in the expectation of his taxi arriving to take him home.) With all these clocks in the house, needless to say, that British Summer Time hour changing causes considerable confusion when resetting the clocks in our household.

Slotting is another long term obsession. During visits to the seaside, the sand and sea hold little interest for Trystan; he has his radar on full alert for the amusement arcades and their coin slots. He has an impressive collection of money boxes and we are adept at improvising all sorts of containers into coin slotting boxes.

Many contented hours are spent on slotting money, clock watching and his game consoles. Trystan’s bag always contains a variety of these items to enable him to tolerate environments he would otherwise find really difficult when out and about.

Music has always been a source of pleasure and joy for Trystan. He acquired language skills from imitating the tone and pitch of songs. When he was 9 he started 1:1 dancing lessons, with music as the enticing motivation. He has achieved many grade medals for his versions of traditional dance routines. Best of all, from this stems his enthusiasm and enjoyment on the dance floor at any disco, often regardless of the number of people there. Whilst Trystan enjoys others singing and dancing in his company, his dad and I are restricted from doing so; one look from him will usually stop us in our tracks to avoid knowingly upsetting him…. and to Trystan, finger tapping on the wheel of the car whilst cruising and listening to music, constitutes as dancing!

Recognition of his accomplishments is relished by Trystan. He constantly seeks assurances that he and all around are okay. A variety of visual prompts are used to reinforce spoken language to try and help him understand and make sense of what is happening around him.

Trystan labels objects of interest in a way that is logical to him — it is such a huge relief when we are able to figure out the connections that he makes, e.g. asking for the ‘Daily Mirror’ is his way of saying he wants to play ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’ simply because the Daily Mirror Newspaper ran adverts during the TV show in the late 90’s. Life is never boring. Trystan certainly keeps us on our toes.

Any, or indeed all, changes in activities can potentially pose problems for Trystan. In reality that means that from the moment he wakes to getting him intoIMG_2850 bed and then off to sleep we are constantly assessing his behaviour. Occasionally the bigger changes seem, on the surface, to be accepted without difficulties. We moved into our current home four years ago and Trystan seems as happy here as he was in our old home, however since the day we moved he has become anxious every time he leaves the house believing he is going back to our former home. We avoid mentioning the word ‘home’ altogether as it triggers anxieties. Although Trystan has some language skills, it is quite limited and much of his communication is by means of us being aware of his body language. Particularly when trying to gauge how well he understands what is happening around him. This helps us assess how he may react to changes in daily activities, such as getting washed and dressed, having breakfast and taking his medication, and what may be planned, for the day. I say may be planned, as Trystan is, almost without exception, in control of that!

Since leaving school Trystan has a highly individualized person centred package of support. His part time support workers provided 2:1 community and home based assistance and he is enabled to choose what he wishes to do each day. His weekly programme when he concedes to go out into the community includes visits to a local theme park, swimming, exercise gym, bowling, archery, amusement arcades, a host of local beaches and waterfront walks, local woodland parks and an outreach service option from the National Autistic Society’s Neath Day Service.

To make life easier for Trystan, we carefully plan and think ahead on how we present all changes to him and are constantly aware of not saying the word no, or be negative in any way. Even with almost three decades of experience under our belts and despite all our best laid plans, we still manage on occasions, to get it very wrong.

Of course another way of looking at Trystan’s unpredictable and unusual behaviour is the fact that with the TSC, the learning disability, the epilepsy, the mix of anticonvulsants, other significant health difficulties and the complexities of his autism, it is actually quite remarkable that he is able to function and enjoy life as he does. Whilst we pursue every opportunity for Trystan to have new experiences, long gone are the days when we strived to make him conform. The whole family is extremely proud of him, just the way he is and we rejoice in all his achievements.

When Trystan was diagnosed we consider ourselves fortunate that we made immediate contact with the TSA in the UK & learnt of their Research Fund. Raising awareness and funds for the TS Association and getting involved in Research projects whenever possible has proved to be therapeutic & gave us much needed hope for the future.
Remarkable Scientific Developments in TSC Research has been achieved over the past three decades & much of that on our very doorstep at the Institute of Medical Genetics in Cardiff (Wales, UK), by Prof. Julian Sampson and his team. We now, for some of the symptoms, have emerging treatment options; the work on ultimately finding a cure for those yet to be born with TSC is ongoing.

Meeting and sharing information & stories with others who lives are affected by TSC is a great privilege, with lifelong friendships gained.
Thank you to Becky for the invite to blog and to you for your interest in reading. Marie James 🙂

For more information on the TSA in the UK, please click on the links below:

http://www.tuberous-sclerosis.org/

https://www.facebook.com/thetsauk

https://twitter.com/UKTSA

http://www.youtube.com/user/TSAssociationUK 

You will not let TSC define you.

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 10

by guest blogger Kaci Kennedy  (Woodward, Iowa)

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I tell myself TSC will not define my child. It will not define who he will become. Who he can become.

Yet fear lingers. It tries to overtake.

It attempts to invade my mind. My husband’s mind.

the moments. Moments when fear overtakes…

was that a seizure. that eye movement. that arm twitch. that look.

It wants to crush all of our hopes and dreams for our little one. It wants to tell us he can not, he will not.

I want to fight. I want to have the strength to fight. To fight for my precious one. To show TSC you have no power.

You, my little one, give me that strength.

You do not know what TSC is. You will not let it define you. You smile. You roll over. You reach out for me to hold you.

You triumph daily. Every moment.

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Please check out Kaci’s blog at http://kaci-jo.blogspot.com

Waiting for a seizure to happen is no way to live.

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 9

by guest blogger Jamie Perry  (Deltona, Florida)

At the end of August 2011, I found out I was pregnant with my second child. My husband Joe and I had been married for 10 years and decided to have one more child so my 3-year-old daughter would have a sibling as we didn’t want her growing up an only child. I got pregnant quickly and we were thrilled. At the end of 2011 I found out I was having a boy. I had no problems during the pregnancy and the doctors said everything looked good.

image-1My c-section was scheduled April 18, 2012. On that day I had a beautiful 8 lb 3 oz boy and we named him Cayden George Perry. He was the most beautiful little thing and I was immediately smitten. There’s just something about that mother-son bond. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. The birth went smoothly and ,other than a weird red mark on his forehead, he was perfect. My husband and I asked several doctors about the red mark on his head and they would always tell us it was trauma from when he was inside of my stomach or it was a birthmark or it was a bruise. No one actually seemed to know what it was. No one seemed concerned either. Aside from the red mark on his head, he had several large white patches on his legs and arms. And again, we were told they were birthmarks.

After we got out of the hospital, we saw our regular pediatrician. We again asked about his white spots and red mark. We were told the exact same thing. Everyone felt comfortable guessing but no one could give us a definite answer. They said he was fine and we shouldn’t be worried. At 4 ½ months we figured out exactly what those ‘birthmarks’ were. As a mom, I notice everything. I noticed when I would cuddle Cayden sometimes, his body would stiffen up and he would scream out as if he were in pain. I called the pediatrician several times over the course of a week and each time I’d call, they’d tell me it was likely teething, give him Tylenol and that they didn’t feel it was necessary to see him. I told them I saw no bumps in his mouth but they insisted he was fine and I was overreacting.

After a week of dealing with this, I was extremely worried. Tylenol wasn’t helping and nobody seemed to believe me when I told them I suspected something was wrong with Cayden. I got the “you worry too much” speech from nearly everyone.  On the Sunday before Labor Day, he started having one of the episodes and I yelled for my husband to please take a closer look at him. I knew it wasn’t normal. “I think he’s having a seizure.” Those words from my husband will stick with me forever. He scooped up Cayden and took off to the ER. I got my daughter ready and we hopped in my car and followed. The ER doctor agreed with my husband that Cayden was definitely having a seizure but he didn’t know why. He was on the phone with a neurologist when the nurse came in to ask about the red mark on Cayden’s head and the white spots. We said we had asked several doctors and were told they were birthmarks. At that time, I was so confused. Why was my son having seizures? What could white spots have to do with it? A few hours later, Cayden was life-flighted to a larger hospital an hour away. The doctor felt the  white spots and the red mark were genetic markers for something called Tuberous Sclerosis, which I had never heard of. I made the mistake of looking it up online. I was terrified of what was going to happen to my little boy.

The next day, they did a full body MRI on him and confirmed the diagnosis of Tuberous Sclerosis. They mentioned a drug called Sabril that they’d order for imagehim and they were confident it would be helpful in stopping the seizures. He spent 10 days in the hospital and while the seizures didn’t come as often, they were still happening multiple times a day. Joe and I made the choice to move his treatment to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. From our research, this was one of the best hospitals to treat Tuberous Sclerosis. We started there at the beginning of October 2012. Much to our surprise, on our first visit there, Cayden was also diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. It seems the old hospital, while they did do a full-body MRI, never read the results. We had brought the MRI on disc with us for the new neurologist to review and the nephrologist reviewed it as well because after taking Cayden’s blood pressure and seeing it was through the roof, he suspected PKD. My husband and I were devastated. We were just getting over the shock of Cayden being diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis and now this??!!! It was just so much to process. They put him on blood pressure medicine and the neurologist made some changes to the dosage of his Sabril. Even at the max dose, Cayden’s seizures still continued. And from that point, they continued another four months until a miracle happened. For four months multiple meds were tried. Nothing seemed to help my son. Watching your son have multiple seizures daily is simply heartbreaking. I sunk into a depression and I dimage-2idn’t think I could pull out of it. I shut everyone out of my life. I was devastated that nobody could seemingly help my son. In January 2013, we discussed Afinitor. The doctor decided to take him off of Onfi (as the side effects were too harsh for Cayden). We began to wean Cayden off Onfi  and we were to start a medicine called Dilantin while waiting to get approved for Afinitor.  After three days on Dilantin, something changed with Cayden. When we woke up on a Sunday morning we heard Cayden in his crib moving around and making noises. I was baffled when I walked into his room. He smiled at me! Then he laughed! And then, of course, I cried! I hadn’t seen that beautiful smile in five months. He was so happy and I can’t describe the feeling I felt seeing him smile. I felt my prayers had been answered.

I felt like for the next few weeks I was waiting for the bottom to fall out. But waiting for a seizure to happen is no way to live. So I tried my hardest to just enjoy the seizure-free time that we got with Cayden. Prior to starting Dilantin, he was set up for brain surgery in April of 2013 at NYU Medical Center. The surgery wasn’t successful and while that was extremely disappointing, I was glad that we at least had Dilantin to help with the seizure control. Cayden just turned 2 April 18th of this year. He’s just learning to crawl and stand, he’s saying a few words and he’s sitting on his own. Six months ago, he was doing none of that. I have such a tough, strong, determined little boy! He is my hero and the absolute love of my life. I am so grateful that God gave me such an amazing child and I feel truly blessed to be his mommy!

Every Child Gets One Free Seizure in Life

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 8

by guest blogger Jordan Martin  (Brunswick, Georgia)

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Growing up all I ever wanted was to be a wife and mother.  I always wanted to have 4 kids — 2 boys and 2 girls.  I met my husband Thomas (T.C.) when I was 18.  We have been together for 10 years and married for 7 years.  We have 3 amazing boys: Conner 6, Preston 4 and Aiden 18 months.

Conner Thomas Martin was born on what at that time was the luckiest day of the year July 7, 2007. People to this day when they hear his birthday their first reaction is, “Wow, what a lucky boy!”   I always think to myself, “If you only knew what he has been through”.  To this day I still don’t remember what he looked like the first time I saw him.  I was put under for a cesarean.  Never have done drugs in my life or had ever been in the hospital.  So when T.C. showed him to me for the first time all I remember seeing is a head full of black hair and then passing back out.  I know a lot of parents say this but Conner was seriously the best baby. He was never fussy; he loved to sleep.  He did have acid reflux, but other than that he was perfect.  At around a month old I was sitting on our couch burping Conner and my watch pinched him.  He cried but I checked and didn’t see a mark.  A few hours later when T.C. got home he was changing him and noticed a mark on his lower back.  I assumed it was from my watch and told him what happened. “No Big Deal!!!”

A few weeks later Conner had a check-up and the mark was still there but bigger and risen above the skin.  He also had a red mark on his stomach of a different shape but also red and risen above the skin.  The pediatrician assured us they were “hemangioma.”  Nothing to worry about and would shrink as he gets older.  Well he was right about one red mark.

Conner hit all his milestones right on time.  He was the easiest going little boy.  Never sick, never met a stranger he didn’t know, loved to play outside but was also content being by himself in his room playing.  He was just full of life.  In 2009 we had our second son Preston Robert Martin.  He was born exactly 2 years 2 weeks apart from Conner.  He was by far not the best baby.  He was miserable.   Teething but couldn’t cut teeth.  I tell him all the time “I would never re-do you as a baby again.”  Conner loved having a little brother and being able to teach him things.  That is until Preston learned how to crawl and take his toys.  Life was “normal” as could be.  I hate that word “normal”!!!!

Our story begins on September 19, 2010 at 12:15 p.m. Conner was  3 years old.  It was a rainy Sunday afternoon.  The boys woke up at their normal time, considering the night before Conner woke up at 2:45 a.m. throwing up and Preston was up and down cause at this point all his teeth were coming in at the same time.  T.C. was still asleep.   He worked at a mill at the time working 12-14 hour days so on the weekends I let him sleep in.  At 12:00 p.m. I rocked Preston to sleep and asked my mom to watch Conner for me while I did so.

At 12:10 p.m. I laid Preston down and asked my mom where Conner was. She said he was in my room watching Tom and Jerry.  I went into my room and asked Conner to go to the bathroom so we could lie down and take a nap.  I kept calling his name and asking him to get up but he just laid there.  I assumed he was just caught up in the cartoon.  I went and stood in front of the TV and asked him again but NOTHING!!!  I turned around to turn the TV off and when I turned back around his face was turning red and his eyes — it was like there was no life in them.  I said, “Conner what’s wrong with your face!?!”  T.C. immediately jumped up from out of bed and picked him up.  Mind you neither one of us had ever seen a seizure before.  I went into the next room and got my mom.  By time I was back in the room he was foaming at the mouth, had peed himself and was convulsing.  T.C. handed Conner to me and told me to get in the car.  He threw on a shirt pants and didn’t even bother to find his shoes.

We live right down the road from the hospital.  We pulled up so fast they must have seen us coming because they came running out to get him.  They were asking all kinds of questions.  I couldn’t process anything.  Conner couldn’t talk for 4 hours.  He was completely out of it.  Once he was stable and coherent they moved us to a room for overnight observation.  They ran tests and did scans.  The next day the doctor came in and said everything came back “normal.”  It was just a spiked fever that caused the seizure.  I looked at him with my husband, Conner’s grandparents in the room with us and said, “My son doesn’t spike fevers”!  I can count on one hand how many times he has ever been sick.”  I just knew it was something more.  The doctor looked at me and said “Every child gets one free seizure in life.”  I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face so bad before.

By time we were discharged it was too late to call his pediatrician so the next day I called and scheduled an appointment.  It would be Friday at 3:30 before they would be able to see him.  Tuesday he was fine and back to normal.  Wednesday at 3:00 p.m I was sitting on the couch and Conner called my name.  I said, “yes baby, come here”.  He didn’t answer.  I immediately got this sick feeling in my stomach.  He called me again and when he came over to me he was staring off and his eyes were twitching a little.  It only lasted about a minute.  I thought maybe he was just tired.  I had never heard of staring seizures or any other types besides grand mal.  Oh I learned fast!!!

I told my mom and I think she thought I was being paranoid.  Thursday same exact time, same exact thing.  Friday while I was getting Preston to take Conner to his appointment, he did it again but this time my mom saw it.  His pediatrician informed me they were staring seizures and she was setting us up to see a pediatric neurologist in Savannah and that she was also ordering him to have an EEG done.

Appointments were finally approved through insurance and Conner had his first EEG done in November 2010.  The neurologist appointment was also coming up, but right before Thanksgiving I received a letter stating they had to reschedule it to the end of December.  By this time Conner’s seizures were worse and every day, sometimes resulting in emergency room visits.  We decided after we came back from Thanksgiving in Florida we would go to the hospital in Savannah and pray they would see him or anything.

While in Florida I received a call from the hospital about his EEG results.  Even though Conner was awake it showed abnormal study due to the presence of spike and sharp wave activities in the right hemisphere, which would be consistent with a few focal seizure disorder.  A few days later there we were walking into the emergency room in Savannah.  The lady at the front desk just looked at me like I was crazy when I was explaining what we were doing there. We weren’t leaving any other way.  Conner, being the helpful child he is, decided to speed the process a long faster and started having a seizure.  We noticed that anytime Conner gets nervous, scared, surprised, overly excited or any loud noises tend to make him have seizures.  She immediately called and they came and took us to the back by time we were in a room he had stopped seizing.  We told the on-call doctor what was going on so he said to give him a minute.  An hour later he came back and told us he called the neurologist office and they would see us in 30 minutes.

Dr. Mortez was the neurologist.  She was really nice and we explained everything that had been going on.  She said she was ordering an MRI and requesting all of Conner’s labs, test results and scans done the day he first seized.  Along with those she also wanted the results of his EEG.  She prescribed him Trileptal and would see us back in 2 months.  If only it was that simple.  Conner’s seizure got worse even with the medication and by the time 2 months rolled around we still hadn’t had the MRI.  She increased his medication and said she would call about the MRI.  By now ADHD and aggression had set in and his hostility was always towards his brother and me.  Still is to this day.  T.C. ended up calling our insurance company up and having a few choice words with them because they still hadn’t approved his MRI.  Needless to say a few days I received a call from the doctor’s office with an appointment scheduled.  February 17, 2011 he would have his first MRI done but not his last.

February 18, 2011 T.C. was sick so my parents, Preston, Conner and I all went to Savannah to receive the results from the MRI.  I was honestly expecting for it to be a simple case of epilepsy. BOY WAS I WRONG!!!  My dad stayed in the waiting room with Preston letting him play with the toys.  My mom went in the back with Conner and me.  In walks Dr. Mortez and from then on it was like an out of body experience.  “The MRI didn’t turn out how I was expecting it too.  It’s more serious than what I was hoping for.” She says.  My mom later on told me I turned ghostly white when she said that.  She then explained that Conner had Tuberous Sclerosis.  Something I could barely pronounce, let alone spell.  She explained how his body produces tubers/tumor like growths on his major organs.  Now we were being referred to MCG in Augusta, now Georgia Regents Medical Center, to the epilepsy department.  She assured me it was a good hospital and that they have lots of experience with the disease.  She also explained how the spot on his lower back was a “shagreen patch” not “hemangioma” and how the spot on his face that popped up over the holidays was a “focal angiofibroma” and not a mole like I thought.  My mom took Conner out of the room by then so I could talk more with the doctor.  He would now need to have kidney and heart ultrasounds and have his eyes checked as well.  Soon I was left alone in the room.  Not wanting to cry or get upset; just wanting to reach my husband.  All I could hear were the words tubers/tumor like, more doctors, brain surgery, etc going in circles in my head.  This isn’t going away!!!

When we arrived at home I tried explaining it as best as I could to T.C.  I still hadn’t cried.  I couldn’t let myself.  I honestly don’t remember anything after that besides putting the boys to bed.  When I got in bed I completely feel apart.  T.C. just held me. All I could do was cry.  I didn’t understand how this happened.  How my perfectly healthy child could have been born with this and no one knew it.  How could he just start having seizures out of the blue?  It made no sense.  I was pissed, sad, so many emotions rolled into one.

The next day I just spent lying in bed depressed really.  I couldn’t process all of it.  I needed a day to collect myself.  I was numb to be honest.  So my parents took care of the boys that day and my mom took all the phone calls from family members explaining what was going on.  I definitely went through the seven stages of grief.  I think my husband was stuck in anger and denial for a while.  You mourn the life you had and accept this is your new life.  The next day was filled with phone calls to the cardiologist office, setting up kidney ultrasound and eye appointments.  I had one doctor tell me they had only read a paragraph about it med school.

Dr. Mortez told me that if after two weeks if Conner was still getting worse after the last increase of Trileptal, to call and let her know.  Of course his seizures were still increasing and he ended up in the hospital again.  I called her the next day and left a message.  I was surprised when she called back within a few hours and informed us she called Augusta and they were moving his appointment up and we would be getting a call from them to set up an appointment.  She said since his medication hadn’t been working at all he needs to be monitored soon as possible.  Good news was his eyes didn’t have any tumors.  His heart had two small ones but they weren’t causing any damage so they just need to be monitored.

2014-04-059518.25.55A few weeks later we were in Augusta for Conner’s three-day EEG monitoring.  Dr. Park is head of the epilepsy department in Augusta and Dr. Strickland is the neurologist there.  They are Conner’s doctors still to this day.  Conner was monitored for three days.  His seizures were mild and very little — not what we were expecting, which was unusual for him, until the last morning when he had 10 seizures within a 30 minute time frame.  The doctors came in a little later for rounds and said, “That was good we got everything we needed.”  They were a little too excited about all the seizures at the time I thought.  But I understand now.  They said it’s amazing you are able to press the button right before he starts seizing. I said is that good?  They said, Yes. it means we got everything from the very beginning of his seizures to the ictals.”  They asked how we knew before they started.  I told them how sometimes Conner knows before he is going to have one and he will come find someone, and sometimes he also gets this look on his face right before he starts seizing.  I also explained how I can feel it in my stomach right before as well; it doesn’t matter if Conner is in a different room. I get this sick feeling in my stomach.  It sounds crazy.

They informed us of all the testing coming up to see if he was a candidate for surgery.  They also told us Conner’s was a “spontaneous mutation” in his gene while I was pregnant.  We also found out that the doctor in Brunswick who said all his scans came back “normal” read them wrong.  It clearly states there were “abnormal” findings in his frontal lube.  I thought I was going to lose it.

The next few months we spent traveling back and forth.  By then Conner was on Lamictal as well as Trileptal.  It was hard financially on us but we managed with the help of family and friends.  Conner was being tested to see if he was a good candidate for surgery.  Turns out his seizures came from both right and left frontal lubes more so from the right.  Soon he was on Keppra, Lamictal had been increased and taken off Trileptal.  We also had to add Clonidine because his ADHD was so bad he couldn’t sleep but three hours at a time most nights.  He was also becoming more aggressive and having more meltdowns.  At this point even my parents couldn’t handle him bouncing off the walls and acting violent towards everyone.  I felt trapped in my own home with no help.  T.C. worked full time so I could stay home with the kids.  I literally felt like I was abandoned by everyone.

Conner didn’t understand why all of the sudden he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere.  Places he has been to his whole life; it wasn’t fair.  One day I lost it!  Conner was having a bad day — just one meltdown after the other.  I ended up locking myself and Preston in the bathroom just to get away from him and the constant hitting, kicking, screaming, etc.  I called my mom and my best friend’s mom, who is Conner’s other grandmother and just started yelling about how I felt like everyone abandoned him and me and how this disease was taking over my life it felt like.  I needed them to stop worrying about how they felt or were scared of what might happen and think about what he feels and how confused he is.  He would say, “Mama, I’ll try to be good. Trust me.”   “I won’t hit Preston or scream or anything.”  It broke my heart every time, but after the talk with all the grandparents, they understood and began spending more time with him and Preston and were there for me too.

Summer of 2011 came and Conner turned 4.  He would be starting Pre-K soon which scared me to death because he was still seizing every day.  He was now also having them every night so he started sleeping with me and TC slept on the couch.  A few days after his birthday we had an appointment with the neurosurgeon.   My husband, my Dad, Conner and I  drove up to Augusta the night before since it was an early appointment.   The appointment the next morning consisted of the doctor going over the pros and cons of Conner having brain surgery for his seizures since the medication still wasn’t working.  His opinion was that Conner’s best option was to have the surgery.  So, we decided to go ahead with the surgery.   After that TC broke down, but I stayed calm for him and Conner. I’m the level-headed one when everyone else gets upset.

The surgery was scheduled for October of 2011. Since Conner would have only been in school a short time, the doctor suggested he not start since recovery 2014-04-059518.29.42time could be long.  So we withdrew him from school registration.  He had been so looking forward to going. He saw some of the pictures his friends had posted on Face book of their first day of school.  I hated seeing him upset so I put on his Thomas the Train book bag, stood him in front of the door and took his picture.

September 19, 2011 was exactly one year since Conner’s first seizure.  My parents had the boys for the night.  I was lying in bed, waiting on TC to get home from work and I couldn’t sleep.  I was thinking about the day Conner’s seizures started. Everything just hit me all at once: the past year, all the appointments and medications, seizures and the tests his little body had to endure …and now Brain Surgery!  It just wasn’t FAIR! By the time TC got home I had been crying for an hour.  I had tried to hold all my frustration and feelings in for so long that I felt like a dam had burst inside of me.  It all came pouring out.

The next night Conner had 20 seizures in one hour and I thought this would never stop!!!  The next day Conner didn’t have any seizures or the next day or the next.  Four weeks later…still no seizures.  Everyone was so happy!  Of course I, being prepared for the worst to happen, couldn’t allow myself to be excited.

Conner’s surgery day was fast approaching.   My husband wasn’t feeling comfortable with Conner having the operation since the medication seemed to be working now. We talked it over again and decided to cancel the surgery.  The holidays came and went. Conner was still seizure free although his aggression and his impulse control were still big issues we still had to deal with.     2012 was a good year!  We had an unexpected surprise….we were expecting again.  Conner had, maybe, three seizures that year.  He had no new tumors in his brain, heart, kidneys or eyes.  He got to start Pre-K and loved going to school.  Conner and Preston loved having a new baby brother.  It was just a great year.

March 2013 and it’s time for Conner’s yearly checkups.   Kidneys are first.  By now TC and I know what to look for on an ultrasound. We immediately saw the tumor on his right kidney. It’s not very big, but still, it wasn’t there last year.  So now we go to Augusta to see Dr. Ortiz, Conner’s nephrologist, every three months for blood work and every six months for ultrasounds to monitor any new growth.  At least his heart and eyes are still doing well.              School ended and what we planned to be a fun, enjoyable summer was instead filled with stress and sadness.  My Nana, who was living with us, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.  Our days were spent with over fifty people (Hospice, relatives and friends) coming and going from our home.  Ten people were actually living 24/7 on air mattresses throughout the house.  Conner’s anxiety and stress level kicked in as did his seizures.  The boys were very close to their Nana.   Summer came and went and Nana passed away.

School started again.  Conner started Kindergarten and Pres started Pre-K.  Two boys in school!  Yes! Even though I had given Conner’s new teachers and school information on his disease, I don’t think they were prepared for the first day. His anxiety was through the roof, he was having a major meltdown, just a really bad day.  But the next day he did really good and had a good day.

Conner is doing really well in school this year (2013-2014 school year).  His anxiety level is up and down. The amount of sleep he gets affects what kind of day he will have.  He still wakes up two to three times a night most nights so the next day is guaranteed meltdowns, staring seizures, and being emotional.                                                                                                                                  Right now Conner is just like any other six year old little boy.  He does get tired a little more easily due to medication.  He is now on Lamictal, Keppra, Topramax for seizures; Clonidine, Melatonin, to help him sleep and Lisinopril for his kidneys.

Conner understands as much as much as a 6-year-old can, that he has a condition called TSC.  We never treat him any different or any more special than his brothers.  As much as this is about Conner and our journey with TSC, it’s about Conner’s brother Preston too.  He is Conner’s rock.  They may fight and argue nonstop and are like night and day but Preston is always there, and always has been to make sure his brother is ok.  Preston understands that Conner has lots of doctors and he has seen everything his big brother has went through. He would sit next to Conner for two hours when Conner fell asleep after a bad seizure. Preston always made sure that when Conner woke up he had his favorite bunny, his Sippy cup and whatever toy he had sitting next to him so they could play together.

It scares me to death to think of Conner as an adult, letting him grow up and be in charge, or have a say in his healthcare.  I know it isn’t anytime soon but I will have to learn to let go and he will be ok.  He is the strongest little boy I know. I am no longer bitter or angry that he has TSC.  I’m trying to embrace Conner for his differences and his sometimes extreme passion and stubbornness.  He gets that honest.  I don’t worry what people think about him or us if he has a “meltdown” in public.   What is deemed “normal” nowadays any way?  People judge what they don’t know or understand. Some days are better than others and sometimes you feel like you have been defeated but at the end of the day it will be over and something better will happen.

This is our TSC story.  It is nowhere near over; it’s really just begun.  Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago when we tell stories about Conner or life before TSC.  It’s like a different family.  If anything, I want to teach my kids that a disease does not define you as a person or give you an excuse to do wrong.  It makes you a stronger person and can bring a family closer together.  It makes you love and appreciate one another more and treasure every moment you have together.

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Could today BE any more annoying?!

Read the title in Chandler Bing’s voice.

Today has just been a fail from the get go.

It shouldn’t have been. Today was the first day Connor slept until 8 in the last two weeks. I know my mommy friends aren’t going to ooze with sympathy when I’ve been blessed with a kid that has always slept great and let me sleep until 8 every day, but I can’t do this “anywhere between 5:30 and 7” thing. When I don’t get sleep, I forget what mugs are for.

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But back to today, I wake up when Chris leaves for work, but wondrously roll over to go back to sleep BECAUSE CONNOR ISN’T AWAKE! But instead of blissful sleep, I’m met with another hissing fit from Emma the cat because our new family member who joined us this past weekend, is once again, trying to be buddies with her.

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Connor loves Rosie, Rosie likes Connor despite the fact he thinks her bed was made for two, and Rosie even likes the cats. The cats DO NOT like Rosie.

So Emma won’t shut up and Rosie won’t leave her alone, so I finally get up and put Rosie in the crate. Back to bed…drifting…the sound of Emma puking on my bedside table. Awesome.

I’m in and out of sleep until the alarm, but thanks to the pet patrol, it wasn’t very restful.

Connor’s speech therapist came at 9. By the time I woke up I had developed a migraine and wasn’t in the mood to make breakfast, so I force fed Connor, since he’s never hungry on this diet anymore. Got some in his mouth and much on his face.

Then I was antsy through speech because I had been dragging earlier and still needed to get ready to go to Connor’s EEG. So I ran around like crazy between the time his therapist left and we had to go. I let Rosie run around the backyard in the meantime since I didn’t have time to walk her. But when she tried to come back inside, there were legs hanging out of her mouth.

My very first opportunity to hold a dying baby rabbit in my hands. Lovely.

Off to the EEG, which was one of the more challenging ones we’ve had since Connor is so mobile and not down with restricted movement. He was not thrilled with the process.

The EEG was just to check up on things. It was only an hour so there really wasn’t an expectation to catch a seizure, even though unfortunately we’ve been having more breakthrough seizures lately despite the early success of the diet. Connor started to refuse olive oil, and even though I’m now using mayo, butter and cream cheese for his fats (along with the staple whipping cream), we haven’t been able to get the same degree of control back, even though it is still better than pre-diet. We did actually attempt to get him to sleep during the EEG since waking up is his big trigger, but he wouldn’t even though he was almost out in the car on the way over. Naturally, he passed out as soon as we left. AND had a seizure upon waking.

We came home and I was running around swiffering, putting dinner together in the Crockpot and other chores. Once again, I let Rosie play in the yard. I had placed the dead bunny through the fence to my neighbor’s yard. Yeah, I know that makes me sound like a jerk, but their yard is a mess. I figured the body would be eaten by the snakes I assume live in their six feet of grass. Apparently I didn’t push it far enough because I got to do round two with prying it out of Rosie’s mouth. This time I had to do it with sticks because the rabbit was a lot worse for the wear.

At that point I realized I’d not eaten today, so I had three pieces of cheese.

Then I spent some time doing normal special needs mommy stuff like calling hospitals and making them bill Connor’s secondary insurance since you have to force hospitals and many medical practices to do EVERYTHING that you would think would just be part of normal operations.

And the topper–for now–came when I pulled the laundry out of the dryer. One shirt with strange oily spots, two shirts with strange oily spots…Yep. Chapstick in the dryer. If you’ve never done that, you simply won’t understand.

But on the bright side, it is now after five. Hello, my good friend Jack D.

In all seriousness, I’m way behind on updating about Connor. Lots of good stuff coming soon.

 

Unexpected Blessings

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 7

by guest blogger Jonna Stromberger  (Iliff, Colorado)

eeg1Our story with Tuberous Sclerosis begins on February 27, 2010.  Bailey Rae – the baby girl her Dad, I, and older sisters had been waiting for, had finally arrived!  Three weeks early, and full of surprises yet to come!  The first four months of Bailey’s life were exactly what you would expect from a newborn.  We were adjusting to having a baby in the house for the first time in six years.  For the most part our older daughters, Brooke and Alli, adjusted well.

When Bailey was around three months old, I started noticing some jerking movements that didn’t seem quite right.  I talked to my husband about it, and even pointed out the movements several times to him.  I described it to my Mom that Bailey seemed to have the “startle reflex” a lot more than her sisters ever did.  At her four month check-up I mentioned my concerns to her doctor.  If the movements continued, or seemed more frequent, he said we might consider having an EEG done, just to be safe.  That very afternoon, several hours after her appointment, Bailey started jumping in my arms, just as my husband walked in the house.  We packed our bags, and headed to Children’s Hospital of Denver.

After explaining our concerns to the doctors, Bailey was hooked up for an EEG for the first time.  She was poked from head to toe, had ultrasounds, an MRI, EKG, and an ECG.  I’m sure I’m forgetting some of the tests, but it was all so overwhelming to us. Looking back on it now, some of the details seem a little blurry.

June 29, 2010 Bailey was diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis.  The little jerking movements were infantile spasms.  Our world was turned upside down.  Bailey HospitalThe perfect little girl that was loved and adored was now fighting some terrible disease that we had never even heard of.  White spots on her skin were explained.  Her team of doctors wheeled in a monitor with her MRI pictures, and her tubers were pointed out to her Dad and me.  Her neurologist explained that TS is different for every person, therefore they couldn’t really tell us how Bailey would be affected now or in the future.  She may not talk, she may not develop fine motor skills, she may not walk, she may not be able to feed herself; I cried.  That’s the one thing I remember doing.  I cried for my baby and all the things I wanted for her in life that she might not ever have.

Bailey started taking Vigabatrin on July 5, 2010, and she didn’t have another infantile spasm.  It seems like we were making trips to Denver on a constant basis.  Bailey began occupational therapy, and continued to meet all of her age appropriate milestones.  All the things I took for granted with her sisters were celebrated by our entire family – rolling over for the first time, her first steps, and then her first words!

On February 24, 2011 Bailey had a febrile seizure and was flown to Denver.  Her doctors thought it was best for her to stop Vigabatrin and begin taking Keppra.  She is still taking Keppra today.  We tried weaning, but had a break through seizure, once again caused by a fever, and decided to keep her on the Keppra.

Family PictureOur family has been so blessed.  Some people think I’m crazy to say that, after all we have been through with Bailey.  Our friends see her as a bubbly, active, ornery, typical four-year-old.  I truly feel that God sent Bailey to us for a reason. Bailey makes us smile every day.  Next year will be a big change in our lives, as she will begin preschool.  We don’t know what the future will hold for Bailey, but we don’t know what the future will hold for any of us.  A friend of mine gave me a frame that says “Live By Faith One Day At  A Time.”  That is what we do.  We love each other.  We take care of each other.  We appreciate all that life offers us, and we thank God every day that he gives us with Bailey.

“May God give you…For every storm a rainbow, for every tear a smile, for every care a promise and a blessing in each trial.  For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer.” –Irish Blessing-

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We are our version of “picture perfect.”

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 5

by guest blogger Shannon Grandia  (Riverside, California)

My name is Shannon Grandia and my three children and husband have all been diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex.  Rob and I were high school sweethearts with this “picture perfect” ideal of how our life would turn out.  Rob, my husband, had no idea he had the disorder until our first two born began having seizures and were diagnosed with TSC. When Rylee was born she was this perfect, beautiful baby girl and the picture Rob and I had painted for our life seemed to be coming true.   Over her first year of life Rylee was having these abnormal staring spells that her pediatrician was writing off as normal infant behavior.  At 18 months Rylee’s staring spells were lasting minutes instead of seconds and she was now salivating.  This is when her seizures spiraled out of control and she was hospitalized and diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex.  At the time we had never heard of the disorder and had no idea what to expect. She had numerous calcifications covering her brain along with one distinct growth, ash leaf spots on her skin and focal seizures. Doctors told us best case scenario is that she did not develop any more growths and she could live a normal life on medication to control her seizures; worst case scenario could ultimately lead to death. Our “picture perfect life” was beginning to unravel.  Because at the time neither Rob nor I exhibited any signs of the disorder we were told that is was a “sporadic mutation” and unlikely any other children we had would have the disorder.  I was about six weeks pregnant at the time of Rylee’s diagnosis, but ultimately lost the baby at 12 weeks.  This put a strong desire in Rob and I to have another child and since we were told it was not genetic, we felt confident that there would be no complications with another child.

Jake was born two and a half years later. At birth he was a happy, thriving baby boy. Doctors told us it was unlikely he would have TSC, but they would monitor him when we brought Rylee in for her appointments.  At a few months old we noticed a couple white spots on his skin, but doctors told us it was a coincidence and he wasn’t showing any other signs of TSC. I am not sure how long we ignored the small staring spells Jake was having, writing them off as normal infant behavior once again but at 11 months old Jake was having a seizure every half hour and had to be admitted to the hospital and was soon diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex as well.  He too had the ash leaf spots, three distinct growths in his brain and was having focal and complex partial seizures.  This was devastating news and our “picture perfect” life was crashing in around us.

Two children with TSC was a sign that either Rob or I had the disorder. After genetic testing it was determined that Rob had the TSC1 gene that was passed onto the children, his dad and brother were also tested and found to have the disorder. We did a lot of research and discovered there was a 50% chance of passing the disorder onto a child. A year went by and life was manageable.  Both Rylee and Jake were hitting their developmental milestones, medication was controlling the seizures and it seemed both had a more mild case of TSC. We felt confident that if we had a third child, he or she would be TSC free. We also wanted our kids to know that we loved them so much and we did not want to let TSC guide the decisions for our life.  Looking back this may have been a naïve perspective, yet it gave us Luke, and we would not change that for the world.

We did an amniocentesis with Luke to determine if he had TSC before he was born. Words cannot express the feelings that ran through me when we got the call that our unborn child also had TSC. Because of the diagnosis we did further testing and also knew he had tubers in his heart before he was born.  Luke came into the world three weeks ahead of schedule and spent the first two weeks of life in the NICU monitoring SVT’s of his heart. Luke spent more days in the hospital than out his first year of life. At one point he was having over 80 seizures a day and was close to comatose. He also had chronic pneumonia, RSV twice, asthma and further heart issues. Then at two and a half he was hospitalized for liver and kidney failure along with Pneumonia and the H1N1. This was the closest we came to losing Luke and he spent almost three weeks in the PICU at Loma Linda. This hospitalization also revealed that Luke was aspirating with fluids and he got a GI tube for fluids only.  Was this really my life?

Luke’s complications were some of the most difficult and darkest days. With the focus on Luke, Jake’s behavior began to decline dramatically.  At three years old he was no longer hitting developmental milestones, and was actually beginning to decline.  Behaviorally, Jake was throwing constant tantrums and was extremely aggressive being asked to leave the private preschool we had him in at the time.  Rylee was also having a difficult time during this period.  She was struggling academically, had weight gain from seizure medications and ADHD.  All three of our babies were fighting and I will be forever amazed how their strength brought them and us through those rough days. This was a long ways away from the “picture perfect” life Rob and I had dreamed about.

We have now lived with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex for over 11 years.  Rylee is 13 years old and thriving. She is the least affected and is on the road to leading a long “normal” life.  Rylee still takes medication for seizures and ADHD, and school is not easy.  But Rylee is learning how to be a good student and stay focused.  She is also a good athlete, playing softball for the last 4 1/2 years and now playing club volleyball.  Mostly, Rylee is known for her bright smile, positive attitude, and love of life.  She is an incredible help with her brothers and has a heart of compassion that teaches us daily how to be a better person.  Jake is now 10 years old and has a diagnosis of intellectual delay and autism.  He too still battles seizures, but they are controlled the majority of the time by medication.  He also takes a concoction of medication for behavior.  Jake has recently moved to a severe autism class, in the hopes that we can get better control of his behavior.  The key with Jake is consistency and routine, which is actually good for us all.  He as an ABA, one-on-one aid with him in class and an outside agency now evaluates and helps with intervention weekly. It has been a rough couple years.  Luke is a 1st grader (in a more severe Special Day Class).  He is the healthiest he has been since birth.  We have never been able to get his seizures controlled, but at an average of five a day, he is on the most effective combination of medication so far and has begun the Modified Atkins Diet.  Also, the G-tube and not drinking fluids has kept the Pneumonia away and he has had a nice stretch of staying out of the hospital.  Because of his medical issues, Luke has an LVN that stays with him throughout the day.  Originally, we were told he may never walk, talk, or even live past the first few years of life.  Not only has he defied all the odds, but cognitively is trying to catch up and shocking everyone.  At 7 years old, Luke is saying more words everyday, can now ride a tricycle, can follow routine rules in the classroom and on the playground and makes anyone who comes in contact with him immediately fall in love with those bright, blue eyes and huge grin.

Rob and I take one day at a time and have no idea what the future holds for our children, but it makes for an interesting journey.  We have learned to celebrate the little things in life, trust God has a plan for us and our three children, lean on each other and those around us when we need strength, and see the daily blessings our children give us.  TSC is a horrible disorder, but it does not define who we are. Rob and Rylee are both considered mild, Jake is moderate and Luke is classified as severe.  We pray daily for a cure and that the seizures and complications will miraculously disappear.  But we also are so thankful for our three miracles, the difference they are making in this world and the joy they bring.  You will not meet three happier kids that appreciate life and each other more.  Watching them together is a beautiful thing and they teach us daily how to be better.  Over the years our idea of “picture perfect” has changed and our we are our version of “Picture Perfect.”

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Normal is Boring

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 4

by guest blogger Kate Green  (Melbourne, Australia)

image-2Last Sunday morning I woke up with my son Hamish, Spike the cat and a broom in my bed. This was not entirely unusual. Welcome to my world.

Hamish is eight and has Tuberous Sclerosis, which was diagnosed when he was two days old. He has global developmental delays and very little formal language so far. He also has the face of an angel, an array of very effective communication and charm techniques and is endlessly funny. Whilst Hamish is not technically autistic as such, he has a few mannerisms which are termed “autistic tendencies”. These include the lack of speech, lots of happy flapping and and a tendency to wander off if given half a chance. Fortunately he is never presented with that chance. These tendencies are counterbalanced by the fact that he loves attention, will shamelessly charm anyone who grabs his interest and his love of socialising. Life with him can be challenging at times and not always predictable, but I’ve found that maintaining an open mind and trying to see the humour in situations is essential. His schooling is a great example.

Hamish is in his third year at a lovely specialist school here in Melbourne. During the term, the school bus arrives to collect him at 8.35 each morning. Hamish loves catching the bus and is loudly greeted by the other kids when he hops on. On his birthday recently, the whole bus sang Happy Birthday to him before they set off. This certainly got the attention and a few smiles from people walking past our house.

At school Hamish is in a class of five children, with a special needs teacher and two assistant teachers. His curriculum consists of art, music, drama, dancing, literacy, numeracy and swimming. In Hamish’s class, it also includes Swahili as a second language. Peter the assistant teacher is from Kenya image-4and is teaching Swahili words to Hamish and his classmates. I’m not sure how much Swahili is sinking in with Hamish, but given that his other teacher is from the USA, I’m half expecting him to start speaking Swahili with an American accent.

It’s a wonderful school and the care and dedication shown by the staff is amazing. Hamish is thriving in this environment. His sense of humour and love of silliness is encouraged, even if it involves him throwing all of the class teddy bears out the window or getting soaked in water during sensory play. When I arrive to collect him in the afternoon he is always happy and draws out the leaving process as long as possible. This routine includes giving each of his teachers a good bye pat on the face and trying to sneak out the door with whichever toy he happens to be playing with. By the time I’ve chatted to his teachers, extracted Hamish and said hello to the other parents it is often a case of the long good bye.

At home Hamish loves to potter in the garden, sort through his toys, play on the iPad and snuggle. The obedience he shows to his teachers usually magically disappears at home, where it is replaced by what I call selective deafness. Which is not to say he is naughty. He’s a very chilled little boy, but has plenty of attitude and is very good at getting his own way. He’s also a master of passive resistance. When bedtime rolls around he won’t kick and scream if he’s not tired. Instead he will walk with me to bed, but gradually sink to his knees, then onto his hands and knees, then finally onto his tummy in the manner of a reluctant snake. He thinks this is hilarious. Once he’s finally slithered into bed he usually goes to sleep pretty quickly. The nights when he decides he doesn’t want to sleep can be interesting. He will either very calmly come out of the bedroom again and again to show me that he’s still awake, or he’ll quietly and efficiently pull everything out of the cupboard and scatter it across the room. I personally prefer the first option.

Like many developmentally delayed children, Hamish goes through phases of being fixated on a particular toy or domestic item. The egg whisk is a perennial favourite and the dish brush frequently goes missing. Computers are also especially interesting. He has an iPad, but is fascinated by anything with a keyboard, a mouse and a monitor, especially if they belong to his big brother.

image-3Fortunately, Hamish is extremely healthy and has none of the dietary problems which can afflict children with Tuberous Sclerosis. He loves food and will try almost anything. His tastes actually run to the quite exotic. He prefers camembert and quince paste on water crackers over regular biscuits and loves anything spicy. Chocolate and ice cream are his first loves though, so in that respect he’s much like all little boys.

Which brings me back to waking up with Hamish, a broom and a cat. The broom is his latest fixation. He drags it across the floor, swings it around and takes it with him to his thinking spot on top of the step ladder, where he sings to it. He loves it so much at the moment that he brought it into bed for a cuddle. Along with his his opportunistic cat Spike.

Which pretty much sums up life with a child such as Hamish. Its nothing if not interesting. Sometimes frustrating and on rare occasions sad, but overall funny and happy, in a slightly demented sort of way.

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