bad in the bath

From last night:

Tonight, while Calvin was taking a bath, he let out a shrill cry—the kind you hear from little kids during recess—but his was because he was having a seizure. I whisked him out of the tub; he was rigid, stiff as a board, and quivering. I ran to the bedroom and laid him on his side on the quilt. His lips started to turn blue, his convulsions intensified and I began to sob. But then I remembered that I have to be strong for him, and so I started kissing him on his neck, something I cannot manage when he seizes in his crib. I told him how much I loved him. His seizure soon stopped; it had lasted a minute and a half—half as long as his typical seizures.

It's the first time in months that he's had a tonic clonic seizure while awake in the daytime, though we recently increased his seizure medicine, and I can't remember the last time he seized in the bath, its been so long.

For almost a week Calvin has been ill with a cold virus. This morning, however, he seemed to be doing much better. He slept well last night, awoke happy and, with a smile on his face when I brought him into bed, he turned to me, put his arms around my neck and pulled me in close. He likes it when I rest my head on his cheek and kiss him behind his ears, so I did and he giggled and cooed like a baby. Then Michael joined in with tickling which sent Calvin into sheer bliss.

At school, however, Calvin was quiet and not his usual self. Back at home he napped long and deep while his nurse kept vigil. After the nap he was slightly irritable with a bit of whining mixed in with some crazy laughter—which made me dubious— but I reassured myself that he was not yet due for a seizure; it had only been six days since the last one. He suffered the seizure in the bath nonetheless.

But, my Bumble bounced back amazingly well, took his seizure medicine, ate his Greek yogurt with blackberries and went to sleep. I wear the baby monitor on a fabric ribbon around my head, like some sort of hippie headband, and I can hear Calvin’s sweet breathing as I write.