Life

I've been debating for a day now about whether or not to write a post on a pretty disturbing recent event here in the Richardson household. After some deliberation, I've decided that my blog readers (that's all of you) can take the bad with the good. So, here goes.

As many of you know, Graham has been having seizures for a little more than a year. Generally, I've come to learn that seizures, quite simply, suck. They are unpredictable and elusive, and very hard to control. I have several close friends with children with more severe seizures than Graham's, and count myself blessed, indeed, to be able to go to them for advice and understanding when things aren't going so well.

Generally, Graham's seizure activity has decreased since we have been in Belgrade (must be all of the clean, fresh air here -- just kidding). Unfortunately, however, over the past three weeks, Graham's little brain has decided on three occasions to have a seizure during dinnertime, and hence, while Graham's little mouth is full of food. Now this is a horrible combination, since Graham's seizures cause his muscles (including his jaw and throat) to tighten, which means that he doesn't swallow during a seizure. Exacerbated by the fact that Graham often holds his food in his mouth for a while before swallowing (a consequence of his low muscle tone), this has resulted in Graham having quite a bit of food in his mouth during a couple of recent seizures. This is extremely problematic.

The worst of the three episodes happened this past Friday night. I was home alone with the kids, and feeding them dinner. Thankfully, I had just sat down next to Graham when he started to have a seizure. He reached out for me, as he often does, and looked alarmed. I immediately realized that we were going to have a problem, and removed him from the kitchen and started doing the heimlich on him. In a matter of seconds, he had turned blue an was limp as a ragdoll. Horrifying. I just kept heimliching, and then laid him down on the floor (on his back -- this, I'm sure was a mistake) and tried to pry my finger through his clenched teeth in order to remove the food. A mother's will to save her child's life apparently is extremely strong, and I somehow managed to jam my finger in through his clenched teeth (I was bitten in the process, causing his mouth to fill with blood -- a lovely sight for the other children) and scooped out a bunch of food. I then ran to the kitchen to get the emergency phone numbers, and as I was going to the phone, Wesley, who was sitting next to Graham and crying, told me that Graham had started to breathe again. I cannot describe my relief in hearing those words -- I truly thought that we were going to lose him.

Not surprisingly, this was an extremely upsetting experience for Wesley and Virginia. I was so focused on Graham that I wasn't able to tell exactly what they were up to during the minute or two that this was going on, but it turns out that Virginia went up to her room and prayed, and that Wesley was in the kitchen most of the time, praying as well. I am certain that God heard those prayers and decided that it was not Graham's time to leave us. We are all very grateful, and now just focused on ensuring that this doesn't happen again. My job as his Mom is to prevent another such episode, which I believe I can do by strictly monitoring him during mealtime, giving him very small bites of food, and not letting him accumulate food in his mouth.
We will also be praying that he has no more seizures during mealtime -- something we have no control over, unfortunately.

Life is precious. It is here one minute and often gone the next. We are so thankful that we still have Graham. Through our journey with him, we have come to know families who have lost children to other illnesses or disabilities, and this experience makes us a little more aware of just how horrible it must be to lose a child. As my friend Jodie likes to say, "kiss your babies, tell your parents you love them, and take a walk with a friend" -- in other words, cherish every moment you have with your loved ones. Life, indeed, is a gift, and a precious one at that.

Love,
Erin