21 May 2007

Little Baby Bubby Boy

Heh. This is the pet name I have for my son. He was given this years ago by my ex. Of course, being my youngest and my only son, he will always be my baby.

LBBB has epilepsy. Well, they don't like to label it that, but basically that's what all the literature calls it. He has a "seizure disorder". This started when he was 12. My youngest daughter was in the room with him the first time it happened. It scared her silly.

He's 15, dark blonde curly hair, big blue eyes with lashes that go on forever (many women are very jealous - including me.) He lived with me from the time he was born until he was 12 1/2. (We separated before he was born.) Always having a relationship with his dad, I knew it wouldn't be long before he'd want to go and stay with him. I talked him out of it the first year; the next year, he was adamant.

We had him on medication from the first seizure on, and the doctors indicated that after we had been seizure free for 2 years, the prognosis for not having anymore got better with each passing year, and we could start moving him off the meds. We restricted video games (a major cause of seizures) and worked on his schedule to allow him to rest more (overtiring oneself will bring these on as well.) They started weaning him off the meds last fall. It was going well until...

One day at school this past winter, my son had a major headache. He took what he thought was tylenol from someone else(at least that's the "mom version" - I'm not stupid). Turned out it was Zoloft(where his friend got it, I have no idea), which sent him into a seizure right before Christmas. I found out about it after New Year's. They (meaning him and his dad) didn't want to "worry me." I'm sure the only reason I found out about this one is because the father was out of town, the hospital had no way to contact him, and I had to come down and get him or they were turning him over to Social Services. Anyone who has ever had to deal with Social/Children's services know what a huge pain in the ass they are. And they only aggravate the ones that don't need it. They consistently overlook the ones that do, but that's a rant for another day.

I've had 5.5 hours sleep, walked a 5K marathon, and had worked 2 jobs the 2 previous nights when I get this call. I'm tired. Then we run into an hour-long backup in Cincinnati. I stop for fuel in Southeast Louisville, and the hospital calls. Says he's doing fine, and his father is there to pick him up. motherfucker.

So I commence to letting him know I am pretty upset, and we're still almost an hour away. We go down there, and my son tells me he doesn't want to come back up here and he will "do better." Doesn't matter that he's not sleeping right, not eating right, and some various other stuff I won't even get into on here. He wants to be with his dad, who, for the most part, is fine as a parent, but stupid about some things. And of course, his rules are a bit more lenient than mine, so yea, he wants to stay down there. *sigh*

My oldest daughter and her friend rode with me to help with the driving and keep me awake. She was pretty upset as well. She really gets on him about doing stupid stuff, and this time was no different.

So that was the weekend in a nutshell... at least the part about my son. Thank you all so much for your help and support. These phone calls are never easy, and it came at a time where this trip down there cost us enough that next month looks a bit shaky.

On the upside, I still have the second job, even after having to call off the 3rd day. Small blessings.

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