Thursday, August 4, 2011

Worry Doll



For the past few weeks -- ever since Simon's last seizure -- Simon has been vomiting on a pretty regular basis. Totally out of the blue. One moment he is just standing there, the next he's got a pool of.. well, you know what.. at his feet. Even the babysitter (bless her!) has learned how to catch it bare-handed.

At first, we thought that this come-uppence was due to the increase in medication (it is a documented side effect). But, after 3 weeks, we weren't so sure and neither were Simon's doctors. Last week we visited the neurologist and she threw out a lot of (scary) ideas. Metabolic disorders and shunt malfunctions were at the top of the list.

So, we got tests done and the doctors conferred and we waited. I worried. Actually, I had a total meltdown. For an entire evening I was completely non-functional. I hadn't told anyone about my worries, or about what was going on, and I think I imploded a little.

I suspect that all people are, on some level, superstitious. Not necessarily walking around with talismans and incantations -- but maybe just holding back, guarding thoughts and speech against jinxes. Whispering our fears to imaginary "worry dolls" and setting them aside, leaving them underneath our pillows to turn over quietly in our hearts, in the dark.

If we don't talk about something, it won't be.

Unfortunately, the denial/talisman tactic didn't made me feel any better. I certainly wasn't sleeping better at night, and it didn't prevent my meltdown last week.

What helped was venting, and having a good cry. Learning more, through online research and emailing doctors with lots of questions. I can't say I have eliminated the worry, but I have deflated the balloon of anxiety a bit. Which is a good thing, because, although Simon has not vomited all week (the babysitter is especially relieved), his blood tests came back with abnormal results, and so we need to get more tests done. I know that no matter what I am feeling -- if Simon needs something -- whether it is more tests, or (yikes, I am going to say it out loud) surgery, to correct or repair his shunt, I have to be together. I have to be his talisman against the scary, and the painful, and the unknown. Worry dolls don't cry.

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