Tag Archives: seizures

Medical Marijuana, Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

You can get Epidiolex in a month if your definition of a month is 210 days to years.

October 9, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 2 Comments

Connor had a 48-hour VEEG a few weeks ago. It was awesome. Instead of waiting weeks and weeks to get into CHOA, we were given the option to use a company that comes to your house and hooks everything up. No hospital! God, it was beautiful. We had received the basic results, but recently had an appointment to discuss it more in depth with his neuro. I’ve been confused in documenting his seizures recently because they often have elements of his typical complex-partials, as well as his tonic-clonics. The EEG confirmed that his CPS (which are in one area of the brain), then generalize to the rest of the brain resulting in clonic seizures. He has a couple hot spots and it seems like every EEG seems to indicates a tradeoff in which is doing the dirty work. This time they all started in the right frontal lobe in the spot where he had surgery when he was four months old. Greeeeaaat.

This is not to say the surgery was not done well or wasn’t successful. It made a huge difference in reducing his seizure activity. That removed tuber was the reason Connor spent 37 days in NICU at birth. But sometimes the area left that surrounded the tuber can still trigger activity. This means a second surgery to remove more of that area is an option. But the doctor already knew we weren’t interested in exploring that route, not before we try medical cannabis. Connor is currently being considered for a compassionate use trial of Epidiolex, the GW pharmaceutical using extracted CBD.

We’ve been somewhat quiet about that because we already got disappointed once. Despite Rep. Sharon Cooper and Sue Rusche of National Families in Action swearing up and down during the last Georgia legislative session that we could all get into the clinical trials WITHIN A MONTH! JUST ASK YOUR DOCTOR! it was confirmed quickly what the families already knew. That’s. Bull. Shit.

Many families never had a shot at the trials being conducted by GW. They are focusing on Dravet and LGS. Plus, there is a lot of exclusionary criteria, such as having additional diagnoses. Many tried. Many were told no. One of those children, whose mom was assured she could get it, has since tragically passed away due to a seizure. He didn’t qualify.

Connor only has a shot because there happens to be a compassionate use trial here that isn’t limited to those two diagnoses. But it is very small, very expensive for the doctor and very complicated for a doctor to take part in due to the schedule 1 status of cannabis. So, sure, you can ask your doctor to look into this, but don’t hold your breath. However, the first time we thought we could be included, we found out Connor was excluded by GW because of his age. His doctor has since submitted paperwork to expand the age requirement and we are holding our breath for it to be approved. Sooooo, a month? Let’s see, the legislative session ended in March, so it has been at least seven since we were all told a month. And Connor is damn lucky he even has a shot at taking a part in such a small trial. Cross your fingers for him and us. Everyone else can just move to a legal state, break the law or wait the years it will take for Epidiolex to hit the market (and then hope that formulation is the one that will actually help).

Realm of Caring is also about to start shipping Charlotte’s Web, the the high CBD oil, made famous by CNN’s Weed with Sanjay Gupta. So the CBD options are slowly and fantastically coming our way, but should Connor be one of the cases that requires a different ratio of THC, we will either need to move to a legal state or hope Georgia can pass legislation in 2015 that will let us get what we need. The comfort level with CBD has skyrocketed nationwide, but THC is still demonized despite the fact that it is needed to treat many medical conditions. For now, we are hopeful that Connor will be one of the patients that responds well to CBD without the need for tweaking the ratio. It also remains to be seen how shipping the oil will play out due to the legal gray areas, especially for people in states with no legislation on the books. Certain politicians and people with authority think we should all settle for their word that they won’t prosecute us here. But tell that to Angela Brown in Minnesota who was recently arrested for giving her son CBD oil.

We’ll just be gnawing our fingernails, waiting to hear about the trial. Connor’s been having more seizures at night. His Emfit monitor was malfunctioning the other night (we were advised to adjust some settings which seems to be doing the trick), and now that I’m used to having a monitor that will alert us to convulsive seizures, I couldn’t sleep knowing it wasn’t on. I tried to sleep with Connor in the guest bed, but moving him woke him up and for the next hour and 15 minutes he appeared to be on speed. We played several rounds of “Got Your Nose” Scarface style –him grabbing mine, not the other way around. The bed and my head also made for equally sufficient trampolines. I finally gave up and had to put him back in the crib where he entertained himself for at least another hour. Life with epilepsy, ya’ll.

If you are interested in putting yourself on the wait list for Charlotte’s Web, go here.

Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

A night in the hospital.

September 22, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 9 Comments

There has been a lot going on lately. Last Sunday I attended the celebration of life for Trinity Sumlin. I met her mother Sheryl when we were fighting for medical cannabis and HB 885 during the last Georgia legislative session. A couple months after HB 885 failed to pass — thanks to political gameplay, not lack of support — Sheryl took Trinity to Colorado to treat her. They were one of the families I shared about in this post. But sadly, Trinity passed away September 5. She was only 11. I was honored that Sheryl asked me to write the story to go in the children’s book she wanted to pass out at the celebration.

Connor’s seizure activity has been up and down. We really don’t see much activity in his waking hours, with the exception of little myoclonic jerks of his arms or sometimes his head. But all his complex-partial and tonic-clonic seizures are sleep related, so those happen during naps or at night. He’s also had a couple strange incidents in which he was not having obvious seizure activity, but he was weak and lethargic as though he had. Sometimes that has lasted several hours which concerned us. On Friday he was like that all day. Sometimes he’d start to perk up, only to decline again. He couldn’t sit on his own or even support his head. I slept with him on Friday to keep an eye on him. By midnight he was raring to go and things looked promising. Saturday morning he wasn’t quite as perky, but he did eat breakfast well (the day before he had no interest in drinking and eating) and was laughing so we thought it would turn out to be a normal day. Chris’ parents were in town and we all had plans to go to the North Georgia State Fair. This is how the day started:

As you can see, Connor looks less than enthralled. The one ride I took him on I had to hold his head to keep him from slumping over. We had never had two days of this before and all I could think was that there was some subclinical seizure activity going on (for those who don’t live in the world of epilepsy, that means seizures that appear on EEG but don’t cause visible activity). We called his neurologist’s office and his actual neuro also happened to be the one on call–which makes life soooooo much easier–right, TSC families?! When I told him he wasn’t really eating or drinking, he advised us to go to the ER. We were hesitant. believe it or not. That probably sounds crazy to those outside this life, but as most of us who have been dealing with this stuff for a while know, you start to realize how little can really be done at the ER. You’ll find many special needs families that have the attitude of “what can you do at the hospital that I can’t do at home?” (Besides infect me with MRSA). I mean if he was in a status seizure, or had something life threatening going on, that’s obviously ER territory, but this? We weren’t real confident. But it had been going on so long, we followed the advice. This is how the weekend ended up:

Doc says it's time to roll out! (to tune of Ludacris) — Doc says it’s time to roll out! (to tune of Ludacris)

They ran all the standard blood and urine tests (Connor chose not to pee for hours so when he did fill the bag there was no way to get it off without spreading the golden warmth everywhere). He was also hooked up to a keto-friendly (he’s on MAD) saline drip. Tests all came back normal. But when he didn’t really perk up after the saline, our neuro told the ER doctor not to send us home. This is where things got hairy. The ER doctor told us we were being admitted because of possible subclinical activity. So guess what we thought? How does one find out about subclinical activity? WITH AN EEG!!! I went home to pack a bag while Chris stayed with Connor. I was on my way back when I got the text. We were admitted , but they don’t do EEGs on the weekends. The rest of my texts to Chris were 90 percent F-bombs. The. Monopoly. Children’s. Healthcare. System. In. Georgia. Doesn’t. Do. Emergency. EEGs. On. Weekends. I was well aware that they didn’t schedule routine EEGS on the weekend, but…but…but… (And I later found out this happened to another TSC family who went in with INFANTILE SPASMS on a weekend). This is inexcusable. Utterly inexcusable. But I’ve never been quiet about how I feel about Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite (or CHOA in general). So we spent the night with Connor hooked to an IV to keep him hydrated. He did start to perk up late that evening and was much better the next day so we were discharged. I was happy to have him get the IV until he would eat and drink again and I totally understand why he was admitted. When we talked to Connor’s neuro, he said that was the reason he asked for us to be admitted, and that’s fine. The ER doc was either confused or we misunderstood the implication about the EEG, I guess.

But that doesn’t change my thoughts on the matter. There is no excuse that someone can’t get an EEG on the weekend for an emergency situation. I understand that hospitals aren’t as heavily staffed at that time, but this is not okay. So if a child has a seizure for the first time ever on a Friday night, you are crap out of luck until Monday? If a child presents with infantile spasms on a Saturday morning, too bad? We can’t confirm until Monday even though IS requires immediate treatment? I’m just at a loss.

I do want to say that other than that, the stay itself was probably the best one we’ve had. Attentive and proactive nurses and the attending doctor on the floor was fantastic, a far cry from the time he got EEG glue in his eye and I had to demand something be done for 17 hours before anyone would look at him. By then his eye was swollen shut and he was in terrific pain and requiring antibiotics. It also made me feel better about the fact that it took 16 hours to get paper towels brought to the room and that the urine sample that was spilled never got mopped or sanitized (there went our four paper towels that were left in the room). Requests were definitely made by our nurse and techs for those things to happen, but whoever was on the other end of the line has a sweet job because they never bothered to do it.

On an amusing note, the pharmacy didn’t have his meds on hand (a specialty one they never have, and the other they didn’t have in the right form) so we were asked to turn over our meds to be dispensed by the pharmacy. (Wonder what that will look like on the bill?) They have to keep his Onfi under lock and key because it’s a controlled substance. His Klonopin is too, but I didn’t turn that over since it’s just for clusters. It’s funny to think he’s prescribed two meds with more street value than the medical marijuana the law prohibits me from having.

Rosie the dog and Connor had an exciting couple of weeks. My parents went to Italy so we had their batsh** crazy full-grown kittens for two weeks. Rosie is in love with Thatcher the black cat. Followed her adoringly and stalkerish the whole time. She also enjoyed chasing Theo, who spent a good portion of the past two weeks hissing at everyone. One of them broke a wine glass. They were allowed to live only because my wine wasn’t in it.

I awoke one morning with four cats in my room looking at me. It was an eerie glimpse into the life of a cat lady, a possible calling I chose to ignore. I emailed my mom to tell her of the terrifying experience and she responded by offering to bring these back from Italy for me:

Random note: Connor and I made the local news. Check it out here.

I leave you with photos of our zoo. Our two cats are not present in the photos as they opted not to set foot outside our bedroom for the duration of this social experiment.

My mom bought them a cat tent for the stay should they become too unruly during the stay...Connor took a liking to it--more than the tent we actually bought him to play with. — My mom bought them a cat tent for the stay should they become too unruly…Connor took a liking to it–more than the tent we actually bought him to play with.

I'm like a cat. I wanna sit in laps. — Me, me! I’m like a cat! I wanna sit in laps!

Rapunzel....Rapunzel... — Rapunzel….Rapunzel…

I don't know what they were doing, but somehow they collapsed the tent down on themselves. — I don’t know what they were doing, but somehow they collapsed the tent down on themselves.

Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

Seizure Hunter — The Elusive Prey

August 1, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 2 Comments

Seizures are really obvious. I couldn’t possibly miss one. We’ve all seen them on television: the fall to the floor, the violent thrashing, maybe some foaming at the mouth. Therefore, it’s really easy to keep track of them for the neurologist and make decisions about which medication is the perfect match for your situation.

Hear that? That is the sound of the collective eye rolling of the epilepsy community. Just kidding, ya’ll!

It turns out that a seizure can look like damn near anything. Eye rolling, staring, wandering, confusion, a single limb jerking, lips puckering, a split second head drop, a split second loss of muscle tone that sends a person plummeting to the floor, jackknife motions of the body, going stiff as a board, a scream…or nothing. Nothing at all. All you know is that suddenly your child went from smiling and laughing to laying his head on the floor and going to sleep, or he’s suddenly so weak that his arms give out and he smacks his head on the floor resulting in two black eyes. It’s not just seizure freedom that can be elusive, but the seizures themselves.

Was that a seizure? Was that? And what about that? Do I count that if I’m not sure? Was that one seizure or two different ones back to back? And that one? That one looked like a weird combination of tonic clonic and complex partial, so which do I mark it as on my Seizure Tracker app? Our smart phones fill with videos of suspicious behavior we share with our online support groups and doctors trying to get answers. It takes an hour to do the dishes because I turn around and look at the baby every 30 seconds to see if anything is happening. Every stoplight I turn around and squint at the baby mirror. If he has actually managed to go a few days seizure free, when one happens, I play mind games with myself about putting it in the tracker. That was a small one. Am I sure it was really a seizure? Does it count if I don’t record it?

I think the first year was the worst. Babies are weird and do weird stuff. How do I differentiate normal weird from abnormal weird? Is he discovering his hands or is he seizing? Trying to roll over or seizing? It’s even worse if it is the first child and there is no one to compare him to. It’s a little easier with a toddler. Not easy. Just easier. It is easier for me to distinguish typical behavior from anomalies, or if a movement was intentional or not. Not all the time, but enough to do the dishes in a reasonable amount of time. Or settle for a quick glance in the rear view. Sometimes I even settle for logging the seizure type as “unknown .”

And choosing just the right medication? Yes, that was another collective eye roll. We experiment, and change doses, combine two, three, maybe even more seizure medications. We try one med with great anticipation because it made another kid seizure free, only to find that it makes our kid have more. And if we find one that works, eventually he insists on growing or something else changes, and the experiment continues.

I have to accept that there are limits to what I can fix and do the best I can.

Most importantly, I finally realized that it doesn’t make me a bad parent if I don’t always know. I WILL miss seizures. I won’t know what every movement is. There won’t always be answers. There will be good days and bad days. But they will be worth it.

Thank you to joshprovides.org for granting Connor an Emfit seizure monitor. — Thank you to joshprovides.org for granting Connor an Emfit seizure monitor for his crib.

Current Events, Medical Marijuana, Parenting

When will Georgia’s medical cannabis refugees come home?

July 17, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 6 Comments

In the months since Georgia’s 2014 legislative session ended without passing proposed medical cannabis legislation (due to political games, not lack of support), the community of medical refugees in Colorado has grown.

Notice anything funny about the south? Sing with me! One of these things is not like the others… Admittedly, the laws in the bordering states are of varying efficacy. South Carolina, for example, is only an immunity law that protects you if you are caught with high CBD strains, but does nothing to help patients obtain it. Florida, on the other hand, is allowing for the growing and selling of high CBD strains next year. If Amendment 2 passes in November, Florida will be able to enact an even more comprehensive program that will benefit more people and conditions.

So now meet some of the Georgia families that are waiting to return to their homes, families, doctors, therapists and friends.

The Cox family

The Georgia bill HB 885 was also named Haleigh’s Hope in honor of this little girl who turns five this month. Shortly before this year’s legislative session ended, Janea and Haleigh packed up and moved to Colorado because Haleigh, who has Lennox-Gastaut syndrome, was suffering life-threatening seizures that caused her to stop breathing. Her dad, Brian, was unable to go with them because of his job and now they have to live apart.

Haleigh before.

Haleigh after.

As I scrolled through the Hope for Haleigh page I was struck again by the change in her. Janea takes and posts a lot of pictures and I could see the improvement, but in looking for before pictures, I was struck by how difficult it was to find photos of her looking at the camera or smiling. Now we see quite a few of those. Sitting in a swing by herself wasn’t possible a few months ago. She also said her first word in Colorado — Mama. Haleigh is not seizure free and still has some rough days, but she has also had some seizure free days. That simply didn’t happen before she started on Haleigh’s Hope provided by the Hope Foundation. Janea has said that she felt like she was finally meeting her child these last few months. Haleigh has even been able to wean off one of her seizure medications. But living apart from Dad is emotionally taxing and they hope that 2015 will bring legislation that will allow them to be a family again.

The Oliver family

Tripp had his first seizure on April 9, 2009 and was diagnosed with Dravet syndrome. He has tried more than a dozen medications since then and in April of this year, he and his mom moved to Colorado where he started THCa through Realm of Caring. It was hard to leave Dad and his team of therapists who have spent years working with Tripp in speech, occupational, feeding and physical therapy, but since then he has had two separate three-week streaks in which he had no convulsive seizures. Mom describes him as brighter and happier with improving speech capabilities. You can follow his journey at Tripp’s Trip.

The Klepinger family

The Klepingers left for Colorado late last year. They still own their Georgia home with the hopes they can return to it and their extended family and support network. Hunter is still doing well on Charlotte’s Web. I shared Hunter’s successes previously in this post. Since then, Aaron and Dawn have a welcomed a third child, lovingly nicknamed their Colorado Tumbleweed.

Hunter with Rep. Allen Peake, sponsor of Georgia's 2014 medical cannabis bill. Peake flew out to Colorado to meet the families. — Hunter with Rep. Allen Peake, sponsor of Georgia’s 2014 medical cannabis bill. Peake flew out to Colorado to meet the families.

Aaron invites any legislators with doubts to come to Colorado and meet the kids. “Seeing is believing,” he says.

The Clark family (follow them at Hope for Caden)

“My Caden has had thirteen completely seizure-free days! Understand that was never a possibility before! He no longer seizes during the daytime at all, only at night,” Kim Clark posted in May of this year. “There was no hope before this, nothing. Caden’s life was seizing somewhere between ten up to into the hundreds times a day. There was no life. Coupled with the side effects from medications, my boy was miserable. Now we are so blessed that he is 10 years old and we are trying to learn how HE CAN LIVE!”

Kim posted this photo recently with the caption "Slowly healing." — Kim posted this photo recently with the caption “Slowly healing.”

But Caden’s healing has come at a price. The Clarks are also a split family. Kim is in Colorado with the kids and Dad Chris has had to stay behind in Georgia for work. They share the same reality as the other families living hundreds of miles apart. Dad can come visit them, but they can’t go home to see him because they can’t legally travel with the oil. Recently, Kim and Chris traded places for a short period so she could make a trip home.

Kim sits on the front porch of her Georgia home, possibly for the last time, as they plan to put it on the market due to the expense of maintaining two households.

The Sumlin family

Sheryl and her daughter Trinity arrived in Colorado earlier this summer.

It’s early to gauge the response of Trinity’s seizures to Haleigh’s Hope since mom opted to titrate up to the usual starting dose, an incoming tooth is causing seizures and Trinity is requiring supplemental oxygen as she adjusts to the altitude. However, Mom is seeing beacons of hope in small things like wiggling her toes, calmness, awareness, making sounds and sleeping better.

But leaving her support network has been extremely tough. “It is harder than I thought it would be,” Sheryl says. “Although it’s beautiful here, it is not home. My daughter’s school and that whole network has been a huge part of our lives for the last 5-6 years. Also, friends who knew us since forever. I think it’s unfair that we have to move so far to have an opportunity to try this medicine.”

Sheryl is out there without nursing help or a car. Prior to flying out she donated her vehicle to another family in need. A fundraiser was set up by a third party to help her with expenses, but she never received any of the donations that were made on her behalf. She is grateful to the Journey of Hope foundation, a non-profit started by Rep. Allen Peake, for coming through and helping her financially with the move.

The Lowe family (follow them at Paws for a Princess)

Corey worked tirelessly during the 2014 legislative session to persuade Georgia legislators how badly we need access to cannabis. She was devastated when it didn’t pass, and by May, her daughter’s seizures were getting out of control. She had a tough decision to make.

Interviewing with CBS 46 about their impending move after Victoria was admitted to the hospital.

In June, with help from Journey of Hope, they packed up the car and drove across the country leaving behind Corey’s job, her husband and Victoria’s siblings.

Since starting on Haleigh’s Hope, Corey tells me Victoria has had an 80 percent reduction in seizures. From several a day to this:

The incredible eye contact and improved communication Victoria is showing now helps alleviate the pain of leaving their home, but Corey still worries.

“It’s great, but at what cost,” she told me. “How will this affect my children, who I left behind, in the long run? Will they resent Victoria because I had to leave them behind? How is not having a mom around affecting them?”

She also feels guilty about the families that simply don’t have the means or circumstances to move across the country. “The absolute worst part about having this medicine is seeing kids back home that need it. It’s hard to celebrate the success when kids are going into the hospital because of seizures.”

The Klepinger, Clark, Lowe and Sumlin family sharing their 4th of July celebration in Colorado.

Related Posts:

The Side Effects of Medical Cannabis

U.S. Representative John Fleming Is Out to Prevent Access to Medical Cannabis for Our Kids

Current Events, Medical Marijuana

Rep. John Fleming of Louisiana is a perfect example of what’s wrong in D.C.

June 24, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 7 Comments

Representative John Fleming of the fourth district in Louisiana is extremely opposed to medical cannabis. While he does see a place for pharmaceutical versions such as GW Pharma’s Epidiolex, marijuana scare tactics appear to be a major part of his agenda and he has no interest in helping desperate parents save their seizing kids. He has no problem with dying children waiting while researchers fight through the tangle of red tape that is marijuana research and the lengthy process that is FDA clinical trials. Oh, those trials have been fast tracked and we can get into studies (sound familiar, Rep. Sharon Cooper?). Never mind that most of us can’t get into those studies. Connor doesn’t qualify with TSC, and even parents who have children with the requisite syndromes are unable to find openings. FDA fast tracking just means they shave some years off the years it will still take to approve it (Connor’s most effective med, vigabatrin, had its first clinical trials in 1979. It was approved in the States in 2009, years after other countries made it available).

Rep. Fleming is very, very worried about recreational use. Our children are nothing but Trojan Horses (his words) used by those who want full legalization for recreational purposes. He is so worried about recreational use and the fear that someone might find a way to use medical cannabis for fun, that he is willing to sacrifice the lives of sick and dying children. He is not interested in hearing our stories of our children that need it or those that are already benefitting from high CBD strains and THCA in legal states. He voted against the recent Rohrbacher amendment to prevent funding the DOJ for raiding state medical marijuana programs. In fact, if you try to tell him about your child on his Facebook page, he will delete it. He can’t have the public know who he’s hurting with his over-the-top antics.

It’s his Facebook page that brought him to my attention, as well as to the attention of some other parents dealing with seizure disorders. He had posted about a speech he gave on the dangers of marijuana so several of us posted on the thread. Many of our comments got deleted. Several of us are blocked from commenting further. I will say, in the interest of full disclosure, that perhaps I implied I had doubts about his abilities as a medical doctor since I came across an article about how he blocked doctors from being able to discuss the medical marijuana option with veterans because he didn’t want them exposed to an addictive, harmful substance. Yet you never see him express any concerns about the highly addictive, dangerous nature of many pharmaceuticals. Prescription pain pills are some of the most highly abused drugs, but that doesn’t concern him. But I don’t think I got deleted and banned because I might have come off as insulting (there was no swearing or name calling). I think I got deleted because I talked about my kid and about how dangerous one of his prescriptions is. (And to be clear, I am not part of the anti-pharmaceutical movement, nor do I believe that marijuana is a cure for everything or that it will work for everyone. I think pharmaceuticals have their place alongside options like cannabis. I just ask that my zip code not determine my access).

I’m not the only one. Several people who talked about their kids got deleted. Interestingly, he started debating with one of the parents–also a doctor –and did not delete or block him. However, he DID delete a link to a YouTube video that this father had made about his daughter and medical cannabis to educate the public. Interesting. Rep. Fleming is so passionate about Facebook page maintenance that he even stayed up until midnight on a Friday to edit, delete, and condescend. Yes, condescend. You may wonder why I find this particular representative so interesting when he is obviously not the only one who opposes helping our kids. Well, though I was blocked, I still found myself quite fascinated poring through his page. It became clear that his page serves no purpose but to rile people up and be divisive. It’s not even about whether I agree with his views or not; it’s that he clearly uses it as a tool of stirring discontent. Don’t get me wrong. I pretty much expect to see Obama-slamming on most GOP pages, just as there is some over-the-top Obama adoration on the pages of many democrats. But I looked over a few other pages from other parties and none gave me the same disturbing hateful feel that I got from his. I expect these pages to have opinions and criticisms. But what I found from the other ones I looked at is that I could also find positive comments about something they were involved with, or that I didn’t have to scroll far to get an idea of legislation they were involved with. Fleming, on the other hand, just seems to bitch and moan. I know his opinions, but very little of what he’s doing about it. Those posts are good and buried. I’m in no way saying he is the only one who behaves like this, but there are just too many people in Congress for me to look at all the pages. I looked at four other Republicans and four Democrats just to see if this is the norm, but saw nothing like this. All the pages are going to have rude comments from the public…the difference is that most of these other pages don’t seem as heavily moderated in that area. So when you make a point to delete and moderate heavily, you are implicitly showing support for what you leave in view.

What I found especially interesting is the way he chooses to interact as an elected official. I’m sorry, but our representatives should set an example of decorum. You are going to have rude comments on social media, and there is a line people can cross where you are well within your rights to delete. But he’s deleting to twist the story and those that get to stay, but disagree with him, get a condescending attitude the likes of which I’ve never seen.

Here are some screen shots from the medical cannabis discussion with parent of sick children. He keeps talking about legalization, though many commenters are focused on rescheduling. He’s also completely in the dark it would seem about how damaging the schedule 1 status of marijuana is on research. But he won’t be told otherwise!

This flat out lie:

And excerpts from last weekend’s marijuana discussion in which it was necessary to talk down to and insult parents desperate to save their kids. I’d tell you to check out his page to get the full conversation, but alas he is forever editing and deleting. Who know what’s missing and edited by now.

Excerpts with one dad.

Excerpts with another dad.

Please keep up with developments? Really? By the way this dad is the doctor I mentioned earlier. The other dad’s response to Fleming’s endless egocentrism.

Once again, Dr. Fleming, learn the difference between rescheduling and legalization.

And the one I take very personally because this mom has a child battling the same disorder. (Update: Since I first posted this, Rep. Fleming has removed all the comments by this mother, yet left his own responses).

I simply must interject here…They will just GIVE US the medication if our kid is going to die? Just like that. Anybody remember Josh Hardy who made the news last March? He is seven. The pharmaceutical company denied him compassionate use. They didn’t reverse their stance until the public pressure became too overwhelming. Rep. Fleming truly lives in his own world–a world where pharmaceutical companies give people drugs when we say “pretty please with sugar on top.”

Not one ounce of compassion in that entire thread.

For the love of God, why can this man not make the distinction between legalization and rescheduling?

Yeah, pretty sure we explained that (in now deleted comments) that this wasn’t an option for everybody and some kids will be dead before Epidiolex goes to market. Not to mention, Epidiolex is one particular formulation. It’s not necessarily the same as what some of the kids are responding to. It may work for some, but others will need whole plant medicine.

Like I said, he loves to delete.

So some of the parents got to stay and debate with him. I guess those of us that were deleted didn’t have anything constructive to say. So in the interest of helping others, I’m going to share some screenshots I took from other threads on different topics so that you will know what Rep. Fleming considers positive contributions to the discussion should you wish to engage without being banned. And please know that in an older thread, he has stated that cursing and name calling won’t be tolerated. But I guess that’s only if it’s about him.

Though some who don’t know me may assume I’m targeting him because of his party, that is absolutely not the case. If he had come to my attention as a Democrat behaving in this manner–I’d say the same (I float somewhere in the middle annoyed by extremes on both ends). He’s a perfect example of what we don’t need in D.C. making decisions for people. Someone who makes it very clear that he can’t and won’t work with his colleagues unless they tow his line and won’t listen to the other side of the story. He’s there to represent his own interests. I actually found in Georgia that the bipartisan support for our kids was amazing.

But perhaps I’m being unfair. He does get his information from reputable sources.

Plus, Rep. Fleming has but this one request.

Of course, don’t expect HIM to abide by it.

He really can do it all. He gives grammar lessons.

He’s a Biblical scholar.

A civics professor.

Hmmm…be a statesman…good point.
His response:

Historian.

Economics professor.

He gets by with a little help from his friends.

I just wish he cared as much about the kids that have been born as he does the ones that are in utero.

Maybe it’s time Dr. Fleming goes home to Lousiana and focuses on his 36 Subway sandwich shops in North Louisiana.

We all have our beliefs and biases, and hey, I don’t necessarily like all the people being referenced here either, but if this is how you think a United States representative should conduct himself, you need to reassess.

Please check out this YouTube response some parents put together for him.

Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

Connor is a fish.

June 22, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 3 Comments

We just got back from a week in Venice, Florida at Chris’s parents’ house. Since Connor has weekly aquatic therapy, I was hopeful he would enjoy the pool this year, but I honestly expected he’d maybe get in a couple times and be done after 20-30 minutes. Not so. He was in every day with us the whole time. In fact, he quickly learned that once the safety fence was down and at least one adult was in the pool, that was his cue to crawl over, turn around backward about two feet from the edge and back into the water until he hit the step. Aquatic therapy has given him great confidence in the water. Too much actually. He constantly wanted to break free from us and his flotation devices to do his own thing.

It was a great week sandwiched by two crappy seizure days. He did great after we upped his vigabatrin a couple weeks ago, then he had another awful day in which he only had two or three clearly identifiable seizures, but was just off the rest of the day, weak and had a hard time moving. Bad seizure days always wipe out his arm strength, so even if he gets motivated to move, he ends up with bruises lining his forehead. Sometimes his chin takes a hit, too. And once he’s motivated, it’s hard to stop him. We try to keep him on the carpeted areas, but he always gravitates to the hardwood.

We upped his vigabatrin on Sunday morning and the next several days were great. Then Thursday night he woke us up crying, which is very rare. For the second time ever, he had what I guess would be classified as a partial seizure? One arm was extremely stiff and unmovable. He cried until it stopped. I stayed in the room and slept with him and he had 2-3 more of those that would wake him from sleep and make him cry. He also had three tonic clonics throughout the night. I always thought a partial seizure would be a better type to have because it’s just a body part and you are aware, but instead those seem the worst for him–but I don’t know if he cries because it hurts or because it scares him. So Friday he was rather off and not as energetic as usual, though he did perk up the second Daddy got in the pool and commenced his backward scoot. I slept with him again Friday night, our last night in Florida. He didn’t have any seizures until we woke up to leave, but as soon as he awoke he had a short tonic clonic. I thought he was done, but then I noticed his eyes flitting back and forth in a weird way and his eyelids twitching. I waited it for it to stop. And waited. Chris came in behind me. It kept going. Nobody spoke out loud, but a basic summary of our thoughts is as follows:

Oh my God. This is it. His first status seizure,

We’re not going home; we’re going to the hospital.

I don’t want to have to move to Colorado. Are we going to have to move to Colorado after all?

And just as I think we were both struggling to make the call that it was time to head to the ER it stopped. Not a status seizure, but one of the longest he’s ever had. And if we hadn’t been leaving and turned on the lights, I don’t know if I would have known it was happening. We don’t have a prescription for Diastat (an emergency med), but I think it’s time to talk to his neuro about it. Just in case. We have Klonopin on hand in case of clusters, but he can’t swallow it in a situation like this.

Florida, I’m begging you to get your MMJ program up and going. You’ve passed the oil, and I hope you will pass Amendment 2 this fall. And it goes without saying that if Georgia does it too…

Last night his motivation was present, but not his arm strength so it was a battle to keep him in carpeted areas. I’m happy to report this morning is much better!

I will leave you with pics from our awesome week in Florida:

Dirty Banana at Sharky's. — Dirty Banana at Sharky’s.

We borrowed Chris's parents' "fun" car for date night. — We borrowed Chris’s parents’ “fun” car for date night.

Getting hot dog's at Anita's sandcastle. — Getting hot dog’s at Anita’s Sandcastle.

Checking out the manatee at Mote Marine.

Current Events, Medical Marijuana, Tuberous Sclerosis

I got soaked at the Hose the House fundraiser for Journey of Hope.

June 8, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 1 Comment

This last week did not get off to a great start. I’ve mentioned we’ve had some issues with an increasing number of seizures breaking through in spite of the modified Atkins diet. We finally bit the bullet and raised his vigabatrin dose Tuesday night when not only were we seeing him have 2-3 a day of his typical seizures, but then he also appeared to be having some sort of activity with no clear stop and start — he just wasn’t right. His eyes would look unfocused and he was physically weak. Sometimes after a rough seizure he has trouble moving around and his arms can’t support him when he crawls, but that’s not always the case and it usually goes away in 30 minutes. But he was like this for three days. I had hoped the diet would be successful enough to allow him to wean meds, but it appears he needs the combination of a therapeutic dose of vigabatrin with the diet. He had gained five pounds since the last time we adjusted his meds, so clearly vigabatrin is just far too essential to his well being. We have now gone four days without seeing any seizure activity since the upped dose and he’s back to his normal active self — a great relief as the idea of possibly having to relocate to Colorado had started rear it’s ugly head again. We are trying to hold on with traditional medicine until the option of medical cannabis is available closer to home.

After all that, it seemed like an appropriate way to end the week by taking part in the fundraiser for Journey of Hope, a charity started by Rep. Allen Peake (who sponsored HB 885 this past session in an unsuccessful attempt to legalize CBD oil here in Georgia) to help families, who have exhausted traditional medical approaches to treating their children’s seizure disorders, relocate to Colorado to get the medicine they need. It all started several weeks back when Kim Clark challenged Corey Lowe to the cold water challenge, a method of raising money for charity via the Internet that has gone viral recently. Kim (a mom from Georgia treating her son Caden in Colorado) challenged her on behalf of Realm of Caring, the nonprofit that has become famous for providing the strain Charlotte’s Web to sick children at a reasonable cost. Corey (a mom from Georgia who will soon take her daughter Victoria to Colorado) chose to challenge more people on behalf of Journey of Hope which started the chain of events that led to me floundering my way into an inflatable pool ring in an Olympic sized pool Saturday morning in the Hose the House for Hope event.

Several representatives, senators and Georgia law enforcement officers accepted the challenge to raise money and participate, jumping into the pool to swim out to the moms from families that were involved in fighting for HB 885. You could also pay $50 to douse a participant of your choice in ice cold water. Oh, and some of the dads dressed up…but I’ll let the photos do the talking on that.

I am happy to say that this much money has been raised so far:

If you are interested in making a donation, please check out the web site for more information — Journey of Hope.

Most of the photos are mine, but a few are borrowed from Facebook…please let me know if you want credit for a photo. I didn’t pay attention when I snagged them 🙂

I'm impressed my pasty white legs didn't blind anyone. — I’m impressed my pasty white legs didn’t blind anyone.

Oh, and those dads I mentioned…

Guest Bloggers For TSC Awareness Month, Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

I knew there had to be something wrong for the EEG to continue…

May 31, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt Leave a comment

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 31

by guest blogger Sandy Rhodes (Altoona, Pennsylvania)

My husband and I were married two years when we decided to start our family. We had it all planned out to try for a child in the late fall so that I could deliver between semesters. I was accepted into a school for my Family Nurse Practitioner degree in 2012 and didn’t want to take a semester off. The stars must have aligned just right, because we found out in October we were expecting our first child! I cannot begin to tell you the emotions of seeing two positive pregnancy tests after trying for three months with no luck (I am aware that isn’t a really long time). I was so excited I called off work thinking the OB/GYN doctor would want to see me that day.

We had our first appointment in late November that confirmed our pregnancy. We told our families on Thanksgiving. They had to know something was up when I volunteered to do the blessing before the meal. The pregnancy was not anything unusual. I was sick the first twenty weeks with horrible nausea. I was sick daily and spent my fair share of time in the bathroom. My husband was a superstar during my pregnancy. He made it to every appointment, dopplered the baby’s heartbeat daily with our home Doppler, and cared for me on top of working full time. Our labs and ultrasound were all normal. We found out we were having a boy right before Easter 2013.

The labor and delivery of our son Camden was uncomplicated. I had a great epidural! My son Camden weighed in at 8 pounds ½ ounce born July 20, 2013. No one could believe the size of him. We brought Camden home July 22^nd with no complications. Things would stay relatively normal for approximately seven months.

February our lives changed forever. My husband was explaining an episode Camden had when he was giving him a bottle before bed. He said his arms flew up several times, and he was really fussy. I am a nurse and wrote the entire situation off as the startle reflex. It was two days later walking through Walmart when I witnessed an episode for myself. It made me uneasy to see Camden’s arm rising up to the left and his head turning that way in a series of pull like motions. I told my husband I would call the pediatrician in the morning because Camden seemed fine before and after the episodes. I thought maybe he was teething or had a low grade temp. That night as I was rocking Cam to sleep he had an episode in my arms. This is when I knew things were more wrong than I could figure out. I called our pediatrician on call who told me if it was his son he’d go to Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital. We packed a bag, called our parents, and drove the two hours to Children’s. My father and mother -in-law made the trip with us, thankfully.

We checked in and were taken to a bay in the ER. They were very slow that night and we received several ideas that seemed like minor fixes. The ER physician said he believed Camden was having intestinal pain and a minor laparoscopic surgery would easily correct this common retropulsion issue. Camden’s electrolytes came back with high potassium, but that was later found to be hemolyzed and inaccurate. That would’ve required the administration of medication to make him poop out the extra potassium. While in the ER bay Cam had another episode. I yelled at my husband to find a doctor and pulled my cell phone out to record what I was seeing.

We were admitted and Cam was given an IV bolus of Keppra. This made things so much worse. He had several more episodes when we reached our room. We were hooked up to an EEG machine in the wee hours of the morning for an hour long study. Cam only had one episode during this time. When the tech came to remove Cam’s leads he received a call stating he was to be left on the machine. My heart sank. I knew there had to be something wrong for the EEG to continue. Three hours into the EEG a neurologist came into the room. He explained that the EEG was showing hypsarrhythmia. This was a common feature of infantile spasms. I was kind of optimistic in the next few seconds thinking how minor most spasms are. The optimism was short lived as the physician continued to say the word epilepsy. How could my baby have epilepsy? We aren’t epileptic, our family has no history, there were no problems during my pregnancy, and he was an uncomplicated delivery! He ordered an MRI for that day.

So much had happened in half a day. I was sitting in the noisy MRI machine as my sedated baby underwent his testing. I remember praying to God to make things ok and get us home. I remember picking him up off of the table to go to recovery where my husband was waiting. I laid him down on the table so the nurse could get vital signs. The BP had not even come up yet on the machine when two physicians entered the room. We were prepping Cam for a lumbar puncture to rule out infection at this time. Then another nurse came in and removed the LP tray. The doctors looked at Mike and me and asked us to sit down. I lost it. I knew in that instant there was something drastically wrong. My mind was running wild thinking about tumors and defects and malformations.

The neurologist from earlier started by saying your son has a textbook case of tuberous sclerosis. I was sobbing and had no idea what tuberous sclerosis was. I remember trying to write down the name so I could relay it to our family, but the pen in my hand felt foreign. The doctor explained there was an amazing website to look for information because we might become overwhelmed if we use Google (TS Alliance.org). They told us our son would most likely be autistic, have delays, and had potential for other organ involvement. They remained with us for about ten minutes of crying questions about outcomes, treatments, and pathology of TSC. I asked them to spell vigabatrin about three times before I just gave up. They left us with our sedated son and the nurse.

How could this be happening to our baby? We had prayed and planned for him. We had zero neurological history anywhere on our family trees. Could things be any more crazy and devastating!? We stayed in our devastated state for several hours, inconsolable. Our parents were trying to be positive, but we were stuck with the reality our son would have TSC for life. He could potentially some day want to have children and have to deal with this ugly disease.

It was later that night a nurse sat down with us and brought us a computer to look at the TS Alliance site. We read about others with the disease and actually watched videos of other babies having infantile spasms. It was uplifting to read positive stories of achievements and children reaching milestones. This was our first glimmer of hope that we held onto and used to fuel us to remain positive. Camden had an echo, renal ultrasound, and EKG that were normal. We used this as motivation as well. The entire four-day admission our son was pleasant and cooperative with testing.

On Sunday February 10 they decided our son was a candidate for Sabril. We signed consent forms and had our supply for home delivered that evening to Children’s Hospital. Cam received his first dose in the hospital. Monday he had his eyes dilated for an eye exam which was normal, and we were discharged home. Our five day stay in the hospital revealed more than anyone could’ve ever guessed. We had a diagnosis no one locally had ever heard about.

At home we continued Sabril. Camden’s last episode of IS was February 16. He has become an even happier baby with the use of Sabril. I rely on the TS Alliance for updates and support on a daily basis. This diagnosis is not a death sentence. The overall vibe from Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital was professional and geared at being prepared for the worst. They have been excellent with our follow up care, and we have grown extremely found of Dr. Thodeson who will be leaving in June. We found our way to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital for a research study and felt a completely different vibe. They are all more personal and positive. It has been amazing to have exposure at two TS Clinics. We are in this for the long run to do everything in our power to better our son’s life. We will go anywhere, pay anything, and be there 24/7 for every up and down. This disease is filled with ups and downs. We are pretty new to the TS community, but the welcoming and support has really kept our faith alive. We pray every day for our son to live a long life, learn from everyone, and love all. We are not going to let TSC define our baby. He will show TSC who is boss! He’s come so far already. He is 10 months old and has not yet had any delays. He rolls, crawls, babbles, and has the greatest smile. We are thankful every second of every day to have Camden the baby we prayed and planned for!

Guest Bloggers For TSC Awareness Month, Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

I didn’t hear anything from that moment on even though I saw the doctor’s mouth moving, except “there is no cure.”

May 30, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 1 Comment

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 30

by guest blogger Katie Creamer (Long Beach, California)

Two and half years ago one of my biggest dreams had come true; I was so happy and extremely proud when my healthy and beautiful baby boy was born. My husband and I had been waiting and preparing the best we could for this exact moment for a long time and we were finally ready. My baby was perfect; beautiful, big, had a full head of hair already, had 10 fingers and toes, and alert from the first moment we met.

This being our first baby it took us a while to understand each other’s needs as I recovered from my Cesarian section and immediately started breast feeding, but within a few weeks we were perfectly in sync and in pure bliss. Being a mom was amazing and I immediately knew why I was put on this earth; to be Keenan’s mommy. When I look back at those first few weeks, the only clue we had that our life would soon be shocked to the core was a white spot/ birthmark on his knee that our pediatrician had waved off as no big deal. We quickly began the newborn pattern of the day filled with eating, sleeping, and pooping; we thought everything was perfectly normal.

Where our story is slightly different then a lot of others lies within the next 18 months. We lived the next 18 months as a normal, healthy, happy new family. Keenan hit milestones on time and was a constant thrill to watch him cognitively advance and become a little person. We were doing perfect and beginning to plan for a sibling for Keenan in the future. Then at 19 months old Keenan spiked his first high fever which caused a “febrile seizure.” Witnessing that was what I thought would be the scariest moment of my life. We called 911, had our first ambulance ride, and by the time we got to the hospital everything had settled down. We were told Keenan had just had a febrile seizure which was explained to us as “no big deal” and “some kids are just susceptible to this, but they eventually grow out of it.” Next time, “just remain calm, then when it stops bring him in afterward”, “they can last up to 15 minutes, but just try to remain calm.” We were told this is common (we even saw another baby come in after a febrile seizure while we were there), we were told how to avoid fever spikes and seizures in the future with high doses of Advil and Tylenol, and then sent home. Proud of how my husband and I handled this emergency and what we thought might be our biggest challenge, we went on with our lives. I researched what I could and tried not to worry too much, till six weeks later when Keenan had another fever. With this fever I was ready with alarms for meds throughout the night but didn’t need them because I didn’t sleep at all and just watched him through the night like a hawk. He had made it through the night without a problem so I went to work in the morning and left Keenan in my husband’s capable hands.

I’ll never forget at 10 am when I was finally able to check my cell phone and saw that I had five missed calls from my husband. Listening to the voicemails confirmed my worst fears, I could hear my husband saying, “it’s ok Keenan, daddy’s here.” My heart dropped because I knew Keenan was having a seizure. I called my husband quickly to find out what hospital to meet him at, and to my surprise he hadn’t called 911 yet, now realizing he was following the ER doctors instructions and he was following perfectly, “waiting it out.” My mama gut came screaming out and told him to call 911, and he did. When the paramedics had arrived he had been seizing for over 20 minutes and they had to sedate him to stop the seizure. Looking back, our first mistake was listening to the ER doctor. My son had experienced a status event.

After a few hours of my son lying lifelessly in the ER, he started to struggle to open his eyes and make sense of his situation. Quickly we noticed that he could not move his entire left side or even move his eyes to the left even when I called him. We were scared to death and a CAT scan was done on his brain right away. Within 15 min they told us that he had a brain tumor and multiple “lesions” on his brain, and they told us he had something we had never heard of, Tuberous Sclerosis. I didn’t hear anything from that moment on even though I saw the doctor’s mouth moving, except then I heard “there is no cure.”

We sat in shock for the next two weeks, researching what we could (but the internet scared us to death) and making many specialist doctor appointments. We heard many grim possibilities, but the scariest we heard was that “how this disease will affect your son can not be predicted” and it’s all about dealing with one symptom at a time as they pop up for the rest of his life. Keenan also has been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, has a “medium burden” of tubers in his brain, one SEGA, and multiple nodules. We now sit in the unknown trying to cherish every moment because we have no idea what the future will bring.

Coming up on 1 year since Keenan’s diagnosis we have gone through three different anti-seizure meds trying to control his 4-20 seizures a day without any success, we have faced the tremendous life changing decision to make to try brain surgery on our 2 and a half year old son to try to stop the seizures, Keenan has to have MRI’s every 6 months on his brain and abdomen to watch the multiple tumors and cysts on his kidneys, and blood work every 3 months. Everything and all his tumors have to be monitored to decide when the next major decision has to be made.

Sometimes we feel like we are just waiting for the next bomb to drop, but we have learned so much in this past year. The major lesson we’ve learned is to prepare for the future but live in the moment: whether it be good or bad it won’t last long. So cherish the good times and live them to the fullest!

Guest Bloggers For TSC Awareness Month, Parenting, Tuberous Sclerosis

A Parallel Universe

May 29, 2014 Rebecca Gaunt 2 Comments

Second Annual “Blogging for TSC Awareness Month” Day 29

by guest blogger Sara Weathersby (Decatur, Georgia)

At a UGA football game circa 1999. — At a UGA football game 1998 or 1999.

Unlike many who have blogged about TSC, I am not diagnosed with it or caring for someone who has the diagnosis. I became aware of TSC and the havoc it wreaks through my friends Becky and Chris and their son Connor. Becky and I went to college together and remained friends in the following years. We were delighted to find out we were pregnant at the same time. Connor was due just a month before my second son, Malcolm. My older son, Max, was a young toddler at the time, so I would share product recommendations and advice with Becky over the next several months.

One day, Becky told me that the doctors found something irregular with Connor’s heart on an ultrasound and were going to observe him more carefully and call in a specialist to examine him once he arrived. I honestly, confidently believed with every fiber of my being that the doctors were being overly cautious. If ever there’s a time for doctors to be so cautious, it is certainly when the health of a baby, particularly my friend’s baby, is at stake. Neither of us were very worried as we talked about ponytail holders and chapstick going into the bags to go to the hospital.

When Connor was born, Becky and I texted back and forth. The delivery went well and she and Chris were just waiting for the nurse to bring him back to them after some observation. They waited to hold and cuddle their precious new son. I waited for the obligatory pictures to pop on my phone. They waited to gaze into his eyes and memorize every inch of his perfect face. I waited to hear once and for all that everything was great.

Becky's wedding reception 2010. — Becky’s wedding reception 2010.

But it wasn’t great. While in the nursery a nurse noticed Connor was having a seizure. While Becky and Chris waited, the nurses and doctors were trying to figure out what was going on with Connor and how to treat him. They diagnosed him with TSC and kept him hospitalized for a month. They determined that he would need neurosurgery to remove a tuber from his brain to hopefully stop the seizures. The doctors expected him to have developmental delays but didn’t have a clue what that would look like.

This is not the kind of thing that happens to me or my friends. We work hard, pay taxes and make good choices. How could this be happening? How could someone that I know and love have to go home from the hospital without her baby? What could I possibly say to Becky and Chris? I certainly had no “been there, done that” mommy advice to offer.

Somehow, Becky and her family were absorbed into some kind of parallel universe where you don’t get to room in with your newborn and take him home to his new nursery in a day or two. Instead, my friend stayed at the side of her baby’s incubator surrounded by tubes, wires and machines that allowed the doctors to best figure out a plan for his treatment.

Meanwhile, I’m waddling around, near the end of my own completely healthy pregnancy with my completely healthy son. I wondered what in the world I had to offer this friendship while Becky was going through so much. I felt a strange sense of guilt and sadness. All the while I shared in Becky and Chris’s joy that their son was born.

Sara's wedding 2009. — Sara’s wedding 2009.

If I was feeling all these emotions, how much more intense it must have been for Becky and Chris! I grieved for all the expectations, spoken and unspoken, I had for this new phase in my friendship with Becky. We were both moms now and our sons were supposed to play together. But what now? How was TSC going to change our friendship? I determined that it was better to show up not knowing exactly what to say or do and risk putting my foot in my mouth than to do or say nothing. Becky and Chris sat in that parallel new parent universe where nothing comes easy. They were so sad that Connor was having seizures and had been diagnosed with TSC but yet overjoyed to have a son. They were devastated that there son is not typical but hopeful that his growth and development will come along such that TSC will not put any limits on what he can do.

In the universe I’m accustomed to of course parenting is tough and an emotional roller coaster. In the parallel universe where Becky is, it seems more intense. There are more doctors and appointments to keep, more worry, more money to spend, more resources to find. Everything is just more. Meanwhile, my own little one made his way into the world and disrupted everything in just the way you expect. How do I step into this strange place where Becky and Chris are without sounding trite or lacking compassion?

It actually turned out to be pretty easy to be maintain our friendship. We just kept texting and talking about our boys. Connor’s milestones look different

Connor in the cow costume, Malcolm as the monkey, Max as the big pirate, and their friend David the pirate.

from Malcolm’s. Connor has to work so much harder to get from milestone to milestone, but he’s doing it. I was afraid Connor’s diagnosis would put awkwardness in my friendship with Becky because I just wouldn’t understand how different it is to parent a child with special needs. When the boys play together (as much as they do as young toddlers) it’s clear that Becky and I have a lot more in common as moms of toddlers than there are differences in parenting a special needs child and a typical child. The fact that Connor has special needs actually didn’t alter our friendship all that much. Perhaps that’s because Becky and Chris love Connor so completely and have managed to accept that TSC is a part of their lives now. They haven’t let TSC cast a shadow on their lives or rob them of the joy of parenting. They have made it easy to ask questions about TSC and what it means for Connor.

As the months went by, I started to realize the idea of the parallel universe where families with special needs children live wasn’t really accurate. We buy the same diapers, and clothes for our kids.

Malcolm doesn't mind crawling around with Connor, even though he can walk already. — Malcolm doesn’t mind crawling around with Connor, even though he can walk already.

We live with the same healthcare system. Instead of thinking of families with special needs children living off and away somewhere doing mysterious special needs things they don’t want people like me bugging them about, they’re actually at the same Target store I go to. We live in the same world but unless you know someone whose child is ill, you can keep going along in your own circles and never hear the stories of these families and their precious children.

In Georgia, we recently had an opportunity to legalize medical marijuana for children with seizure disorders. Our state representatives failed miserably to pass the very popular bill. This experience made it clear to me the importance of raising awareness of TSC and the reality faced by families with special needs children. Just because a policy, or law or healthcare plan works for you or at least doesn’t hinder you doesn’t mean that you don’t have a voice in improving the lives of our most vulnerable children. Those of us who are blessed with healthy children owe it to our friends, relatives and the people in our communities who are raising special needs kids to keep investing in those relationships even when, and especially when, a child is diagnosed with an illness or syndrome. We can make our healthcare system work better and our government more responsive. But first, we all have to be aware.

In the dorm -- Myers Hall at UGA -- in 1998. — In the dorm — Myers Hall at UGA — in 1998.

Both pregnant at Becky's baby shower 2012. — Both pregnant at Becky’s baby shower 2012.

Mixed Up Mommy

Tag Archives: seizures

You can get Epidiolex in a month if your definition of a month is 210 days to years.

A night in the hospital.

Seizure Hunter — The Elusive Prey

When will Georgia’s medical cannabis refugees come home?

Rep. John Fleming of Louisiana is a perfect example of what’s wrong in D.C.

Connor is a fish.

I got soaked at the Hose the House fundraiser for Journey of Hope.

I knew there had to be something wrong for the EEG to continue…

I didn’t hear anything from that moment on even though I saw the doctor’s mouth moving, except “there is no cure.”

A Parallel Universe

Living in Atlanta, loving travel and watching my son kick tuberous sclerosis complex's butt.