Phew! So glad the EEG is over. What on earth made our neurologist think that attaching a 10-pound box to my toddler’s head with 20+ plus wires would be a good idea? That’s right, 20+ wires, glued to his head, wrapped in gauze, and leading to a 10-pound box. He was on a leash for 24 hours! And it was attached to his head, for pity’s sake! (Let me just say, we got some stares. I’m afraid the pizza guy is going to call DFACS on us for torturing our child.)

I’m no physicist, but I can define perpetual motion for you: a toddler told to be still. Somehow, the very instant you attach something to his head and tell him to be still it triggers something in the brain (or maybe the power from the 4 D batteries gave him extra energy). That kid was like the Energizer bunny.  Even in his sleep!

At night he constantly rolled - the worst thing he could have done, since it wrapped the wires around his precious little neck. So all night long I was de-tangling him from the wiry choking-death-trap. When we went back this morning to have the death-trap removed, the second he was free he took off running. And continued running for most of the day. Ah, the taste of freedom! (I don’t know who was really liberated - me or him.)

Next step: we wait. It takes 2 weeks for a team of doctors to interpret the 24 hours’ worth of 20+ seemingly random squiggly lines. Around October 10th (the same day we see the neurosurgeon) the results should be ready.

Today’s the big day. We’ll post some pictures later. But for now, suffice it to say Liam’s head is hooked up like a Christmas tree. Well, more like an HDTV. He’s got more wires than a surround sound stereo system. He looked kind of like Bob Marley at first, then they wrapped his head in gauze. Now he looks like a poor pathetic little kid with a serious head injury… and a lot of wires.

I can’t be more than 12 inches away from him as long as he’s hooked up, and I have to stay with him when he sleeps - so he doesn’t wrap his neck in the wires and suffocate himself. And for now, we’re about to take him out in public. I’m awaiting the stares.   And Liam? He’s a little annoyed with the whole train of wires that lead into a 10-pound camera bag. But other than being annoyed, he’s handling it like a champ.

Consider this a public service announcement. Seizures are something most people know very little about. And I’m finding that most people don’t have any interest to learn. The thing is, anyone can have a first unexpected seizure, and if it’s you, hope that someone around knows what to do.

Not everyone having a seizure will froth at the mouth, or even shake or tremble. Some seizures involve just ‘zoning out’ for a short period (those ‘absence seizures’ don’t usually require any immediate medical attention). But most other seizures will involve either going limp and falling to the ground, or going rigid, or both. The body may also shake - either gently or more violently. So what do you do?

• Calm down. Most seizures are not medical emergencies, and your calmness is the best thing for the situation.
• Make sure there’s nothing sharp or hard near the person seizing. They should be in a rather comfortable place where they can’t fall (i.e., not the edge of the Grand Canyon, not a concrete sidewalk, no scissors or knifes nearby)
• DO NOT put anything in their mouth. It is a myth that they could bite their tongue, swallow it, or anything like that. Do not attempt to rescue them from a myth.
• If possible, it’s best for them to be on their side, especially if there are any indications that they might vomit.
• Look for a clock and make a mental note of what time the seizure started. Also note what time it ends.
• When the person stops seizing, they will be completely out of it for anywhere from 5 to 15 minutes, depending on a lot of variables. Do talk to them to judge their level of consciousness. Also note what time they ‘come back’ to themselves.
• If it was a first seizure, the person will need immediate medical attention to rule out potential causes like chemical ingestion and the like. But if the person has had seizures before, they probably don’t need medical attention unless the seizure itself lasted more than 10 minutes, or they don’t ‘come back’ to themselves after 15-20 minutes.

There you have it, folks. It’s really not that hard. The basics are - nothing in the mouth, stay calm. I hope that if my son should have another seizure, and it happens when he’s not with me, that someone around will know what to do. You could be that person - if not to my son, then to someone else.

A few people have asked me for specific prayer requests. That gets hard, because it means being real about what’s going on and how I feel about it. But here it is:

• That I’d be able to cling to the following verses, which hit at the heart of my biggest struggle:
  • Take every thought captive to Christ (2 Cor. 10:5)
  • Do not worry about tomorrow, for today is enough (Matt. 6:34)
• Physical strength. The exhaustion is intense.
• He has a 24-hour EEG tomorrow. We’re praying that his brain would show seizure activity (so they can figure out if the seizures are related to the tumor), but without him actually having a physical seizure (which would mean medicating him more strongly).
• That God would use this situation to glorify His name; and that He’d grant us the privilege of giving Him the glory.
• I fully believe that God has great plans to heal my little boy, but join us in praying that Liam would be strong and resilient to cope with and recover from what he’s about to go through.
• That hubby and I would be his comfort and lead him well down the road through trials and on to recovery. Though the road may be rocky, let us guide Liam’s steps, keeping our eyes firmly on the Solid Rock of our foundation.
• That all the mess we’re going through would yield eternal fruit.

…from a long walk on a beach as the sun sets is really nothing like yogurt between my toes from Liam dumping it on the table, painting a masterpiece with it, covering himself with it, and throwing it by handfuls on the floor.

The first time (this morning) that I got yogurt between my toes, shame on him. When I gave him more yogurt for lunch and I stepped in it again, shame on me. I should have learned my lesson.

In case anyone’s wondering, the easiest way to clean yogurt off the table, floor, walls, and chandelier is with a dry paper towel. Follow up with an all-purpose or gentle window cleaner to get the sticky residue off. I’ve had lots of practice.

The announcement of Liam’s tumor ushered in a full 10 days of mood swings, roller coaster emotions and ‘crisis mode,’ including neither sleep nor meals. It came amidst first trimester madness and I can only assume that the first trimester along with lack of sleep and food were all contributing factors to the emotional mess.

Hubby came home Thursday (and left again yesterday), but yesterday also brought with it the 2nd trimester! (Which will hopefully end the queasies too.) And somewhere over the weekend the emotions disappeared. They’ve been replaced with numbness.

I’m guessing that this is a natural part of the coping process. And it’s probably good that numbness has come over me before we visit the neurosurgeon. It wouldn’t be the most productive meeting if I wept through the whole thing. Or coated all my words with intense sarcasm.

I think Liam has gotten used to the medication for seizures. We’ve upped his dosage and - though he takes monster naps - he isn’t as cranky as he was when we first started it (perhaps another reason I’m not so emotional). Bean, on the other hand, has realized that her little brother is getting loads of attention and hugs. This has brought her to crazy tactics like crying for 2 days straight over a skinned knee. And accidents almost daily. My carpet isn’t too happy with that. Nor is my washing machine. But this too shall pass.

A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;
Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.

Martin Luther, 1529

The sermon this week at church was on REALLY praying. In Acts 12:5 where it talks about the disciples’ “fervent prayer,” the word fervent actually means “agonizing” or “stretched out.” This is the type of prayer you pray when there’s a significant, desperate need. When the need you feel brings you to your knees before the throne. It’s the type of prayer Elijah prayed over the widow’s son. It’s the type of prayer Jesus talked about with “knock and the door will be opened” - that passage isn’t talking about a gentle tap-tap; it’s about banging your fists in desperation because you’ve nowhere else to turn. It’s a picture of the disciples crying out for their brothers and sisters during intense persecution.

The good news is that where ever we see that type of prayer in the Bible, we see God move. We see Him glorified. So the question is, are you willing to endure significant, desperate - even painful - need, to watch God be moved to action by your prayers, and see Him glorified?

Two weeks ago my answer would have been no. I’m not there yet. And by the way God, please don’t put me there, cause I just can’t handle it. But I didn’t hear the sermon 2 weeks ago. I heard it this week. And this week, I’m in the middle of it. And guess what… It’s not a bad place to be. God is most certainly with me. And where He is, there is joy.

Joy is different than happiness. Happiness in our house is a fleeting thing these days. Tears abound, but still there is joy. Tempers are short, but forgiveness is ever available. There is comfort in knowing that God is guiding our steps, even when the pathway is dark and hidden under thick brush. There is joy in His presence. There is abundant joy in knowing that He has chosen this path for us, simply because it is what we need. And that He has chosen us for this path because He has a purpose for us, and in us. God’s gonna move, and I can’t wait to see it.

I suppose at this point I might as well tell you all, my sweet boy’s name is Liam. I’ve been calling him Little Man on the blog, and maybe I still will. But for all of you praying for him, I know God understands it - He knows who Little Man is. But you can pray for Liam now. God’s going to pull Liam through this one way or another, but it sure would help to have lots of people sending up requests for us. So thank you. I’ve been overwhelmed by the number of people who care for us, and add my Liam to their already long lists of prayer requests. But all these prayers bring glory and honor to the One who chose this road for Liam, and that is all I can ask for now. For those of you who are praying, may you be blessed through this, seeing God move in remarkable ways through your prayers for Liam.

I was hoping to receive a call from the neurologist last week. The call was supposed be that after consulting his colleagues, the neurologist is confident that Little Man’s tumor puts him in no immediate danger and there’s no reason to remove it. We can monitor it with periodic MRI’s and make sure it doesn’t grow.

But a different call came. It said that we need to make an appointment with the neurosurgeon. That puts us squarely on our way towards brain surgery. Pediatric brain surgery. On my 21-month old. I’m wondering what’s appropriate to ask a neurosurgeon. Can I ask him if he’s better than all the king’s men with Humpty Dumpty? Or, if it will be as easy to wake Little Man after the surgery as it was for the prince to wake Sleeping Beauty?  Can I make sure that he’s not doing the surgery out of some George-esque Curiosity to get into things?

I’m learning what James meant about taking joy in suffering.  When the situation is desperate there’s only one place to turn. There’s only One who can assuage the hurt. And in His presence there is peace. There is joy even when the situation would seem to demand sorrow and fear.

We all know kids aren’t incredibly patient when it comes to waiting for food to cool. But I found 2 quick, easy ways to do it with oatmeal. Here they are:

First, the more nutritious method. Keep some frozen fruit in your freezer (blueberries, diced peaches, etc.) and when the oatmeal is cooked, add a handful of the fruit, still frozen. The oatmeal thaws the fruit while the fruit cools the berries. Stir, check the temp., and I can almost always serve immediately.

Second, for the days when your kids are rebelling against fruit. When the oatmeal is cooked and in bowls, nest the oatmeal bowl in a slightly narrower bowl filled with ice water. 2 minutes and you’re good to go.

That’s what works for me. Head over to Rocks in my dryer for more cool tips.