Unspoken Languages

Chad & I have this unspoken language between us.
For example, when we were housebreaking our sweet little leaky puppy (long before we had to housebreak our sweet little leaky kids),we would just give each other a look. We each knew we wanted to scream,”THERE HAVE BEEN NO ACCIDENTS TODAY! SHE DIDN’T PEE ON THE FLOOR TODAY!” Yet, we knew the instant we birthed the words from our mouths, that sweet little puppy would leak. So, we just gave each other the look instead. We knew what we wanted to say. We just dare not say it out loud.

Chad & I dance around the topic of seizures much the same way as we did the leaky puppy. When we talk about it, he inevitably has one. So, we just don’t talk about them to keep those pesky moments away.
Now, I know this isn’t really, technically, helping prevent his seizure activity.
They either will or will not happen. But we like to pretend we have some control over this whole situation sometimes.

Chad hasn’t had a seizure since December 26 – the morning after Christmas. So, he was due one I suppose.
I hadn’t said it out loud, and neither had Chad. But we both get a little antsy when we get around the two-month mark with no seizure activity. For some reason, his body has a seizure clock set at two months.
And this Saturday was his day, so to speak.

My mom had taken the girls outside to play earlier. I hadn’t joined them for long, maybe 10 minutes, before we got cold and the neighbors had to leave – so we moseyed back inside. When I had left him 10 minutes earlier, Chad was  putting the dishes away. I fully expected to see him in the chair in the living room — because the Matrix was on. He can’t resist watching, even though he’s seen it about 28 times.

But, no.
I was the first to enter from the garage and heard something from the kitchen. It didn’t register what the noise was – I just knew it wasn’t a normal noise. As I stepped into the kitchen, I saw Chad on the floor. I told my mom to keep the girls in the mudroom. She already knew. It’s just another unspoken language. The girls and my mom went upstairs as  I sat with Chad on the kitchen floor.

Although all of his seizures aren’t good, this one wasn’t bad…Chad was able to talk through it. There was no fixed stare or teeth gnashing. I was able to ask him if he had fallen or hit his head — and he didn’t. His head was so close to the edge of the hutch, I was afraid he may have hit it when he came down. He told me he barely had enough warning time to get down to the floor before he lost control of his body. Oh, but he did have time! Thank goodness.
We changed his position a bit so he was more comfortable and just waited for his body to calm down. It was only a few minutes, but those minutes often seem like an eternity.

He quickly rebounded this time. He had some brief weakness on his right side, but it didn’t keep him from standing by himself soon after the convulsions stopped.

And then, there was another little unspoken conversation between us.

We both broke out into laughter!
I had noticed a package of cookie dough on the counter when I walked in this kitchen.
But I hadn’t put the whole scene together until just then.
When Chad stood up, he headed right to the cookie dough.
The seizure was over — and he was going to finish what he started in the kitchen….and then watch The Matrix.

Such is life.
Let the bad stuff be done.
And get on with it!