Tuesday into Wednesday morning Izabelle had four to five convulsive grand mal seizures. I didn't sleep.
When Izabelle seizes now, it's accompanied by a loud scream. I have a baby monitor in my room that only amplifies the noise. Therefore, I'm startled even more when I'm alerted that she is seizing.
Izabelle sleeps on her stomach. When she seizes her face gets pressed into her pillow. I run to flip her on her side everytime, so she doesn't suffocate.
Seizures come whenever they want. Sometimes with no warning. They bring with them a state of emergency. My body fills with adrenaline. Then I crash. I crash emotionally and physically.
Yesterday, I decided that it couldn't wait until Saturday to go to the dispensary to get Izabelle's newest therapy. The hopeful miracle drug.
I never would have imagined in my wildest dreams that I would go alone to a medical merhiwana clinic to fight for my daughter's life.
I was impressed by the professionalism of the facility and the empathy the employees had for my sweet daughter.
We started the therapy last night. It's 3:28 am. No seizures yet. I hope it stays that way. For both our sakes.
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