Day 7 One day at a time.

Now, we are in one-day-at-a-time mode.  Not that we haven't been that way so far.  We have to get authorization each day until Jessi has a seizure or the insurance gets sick of us asking for more money.

At this point, Jessi is completely off of her meds.  I don't know what an un-medicated seizure would be like.  She's been taking seizure medication of one kind or another since she was Kira's age.  Even with that added help, we have had to give her emergency relief medication before--once when a seizure went over 5 minutes, and several times when she has had more than one grand-mal seizure within 2 hours.  (Seizure clusters).  So, I am preparing myself mentally for the worst seizure she has ever had.  Perhaps that's why it's taking her body so long to gear up for this one.  Maybe somewhere deep down, Jessi is exercising her need for self-preservation.  I feel like she is a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode.  And, knowing her, she'll explode while I'm gone...  I'm scared to take a bathroom break.

The doctors, nurses, techs, housekeeping, and everyone here is so great!  I am so grateful to have such wonderful people taking care of us during this test!  And they aren't just taking care of Jessi.  They are always asking how I am doing.  If you come to visit Jessi, odds are good that they will offer you a glass of ice water, at least.  They've already done a load of laundry for me.  They are arranging for a volunteer to come and sit with Jessi while I run a couple of errands later.  In the restroom, there is a sign that says something like "Ease another's troubles, forget your own."

I think anyone who has spent a great deal of time in this hospital has bitter-sweet memories of it.  Because this is the third time we've spent significant time here, I have several memories.  In 06, Jessi was brought here with a problem resulting from a huge ovarian cyst.  I'd taken her to the ER at Cottonwood Hospital, thinking she had an appendicitis or something--severe abdominal pain that never went away.  The doc had done some x-rays and told me he thought she had ovarian cancer.  Not a diagnosis an ER doc can give, but just saying it made me miserable.  They brought Jessi up to Primary's in an ambulance, intent on immediate surgery.  The surgical team here looked at the test results and told me that they didn't believe the ER doc was right.  They went in laproscopically and drained the cyst, then tacked her ovary back into place.  She stayed here three days.  I remember a couple of things about that stay.  The most prominent memory is watching them roll Jessi down the hall to an operating room with her looking back at us, unable to understand why she was going somewhere her parents couldn't follow.  I also remember the visits, the cards, the constant care of the nursing staff.

Last year, Kira was in here to have plastic surgery on her lip.  She was here 3 days too.  She was so completely spoiled.  She asked for a bowl of sliced pickles, and they gave her a bowl of sliced pickles.  :)

I can walk up and down the halls of the hospital and remember which hall these events occurred in.  Amazing how retracing steps can bring back so many feelings. 

I hope we won't have to be here much longer.  Today is the day, right?

Here's hoping.