Moms of Epilepsy

Geri – Mother of Katie

Part 1 of 2

Geri and Katie in August 2010

I am Katie's mom. Katelin Jenn came along after two boys and she wouldn't have had it any other way. She was spunky, dramatic, and energetic, never wanted to miss a moment of life, and held her own very well with her brothers. We joke that she came out of the womb talking.

Grade 9 couldn't come soon enough for her. She was healthy and active. She joined the field hockey team, and was excelling in karate, working on her black belt ... but her time at high school ended as fast as it started.

I am guessing that most "moms of epilepsy" stories will include "the first one" or "the day that changed everything." For me, it is etched solidly in my memory, but as soon as my mind even briefly wanders back to that day, I stop!

It was just before Christmas in 2010. It was a Tuesday. Her oldest brother Dillon was home from university and was at the dentist. Her brother Evan was at home nursing a migraine and her dad Don was busy at home in his office. Katie had a routine medical appointment, and we were on our way back into town afterwards. We were chatting about how hungry she was and I told her we would go straight to Subway.

"What sub are you going to get?"

She didn't reply. I looked over. What is she doing?

"Katie ... Katie? ... KATIE!!!"

I was screaming at her, begging her to stop and talk to me, pleading with God to help. I pulled my truck just far enough off the road into a plaza parking lot and got out yelling for help. "Please ... somebody, please help me!" I went over to my girl's side of the truck and it just kept going.

She was dying, I was sure of it. Someone thrust a phone at me and said the 911 operator wants to talk to me. She told me to calm down and listen, "your daughter is having a seizure, follow my instructions. First undo the seatbelt and lay her seat back to prevent choking." The seat was broken. NO!! The seat would not lay back and I was begging two men standing right there to help. They did not. They looked scared too. "Cowards," I thought. Then I turned towards Katie and she was suddenly still, unconscious, slumped over, blue lips, bloody mouth and there was a man in the driver's seat, gently talking to Katie. He said to me, "Mom, it's ok, Katie is breathing and I feel a pulse." He had a calmness about him. How did he know her name? Sirens were in the background. Finally help was coming! I was angry. No one seemed to be moving fast enough. Didn't they realize my baby needed help? As they took her gently out and on a stretcher she was not opening her eyes. It was then I noticed a crowd of staring faces, firetrucks blocking off the road and my husband's truck racing past all the barriers to get to us. Jim, the store owner across the road, had called Don. Thank goodness!

It was our hope and prayer that was a fluke. A one up. We read up on it. Many people will experience one, just one seizure in their lifetime. This was not reassuring enough though. We were instantaneously changed. We were on guard, nervously watching Katie's every move.

Time passed and we had just started to relax. March she had another seizure at home. Fell off the exercise bike, rug burned and bleeding from the fall and her bitten tongue. It was then we realized something was terribly wrong. Tests ruled out tumour, diabetes, which left us with the diagnosis of epilepsy. First thoughts were Katie would be prescribed a pill and life will return to normal. Not the case! How wrong we were.

Geri
Haliburton, Ontario

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