The seizures are back. They are very mild, but we’re not fond of seizures. She can feel them coming. Today, during physical therapy, she told the therapist she felt funny, and then she asked for her mom. By the time Jeanette was talking to her, Jordan had slipped away from us for a minute, eyes glassy, speech malfunctioning. Just as quickly, she was back.
They’ve been more frequent in the past week. In fact, she’s had three in seven days. She also had a nosebleed and she has been nauseous. Each of these factors, on its own, might mean nothing. But just in case, the CHLA team asked her to come into the ER this afternoon to have a CT scan. It looked good. She’s scheduled for an MRI in two weeks, and the doctors don’t think we need to rush that appointment. Jordan’s seizure meds are very low dose, so they increased the dosage as a temporary measure.
Meanwhile, Jordan is upbeat. She has the most amazing attitude. This doesn’t get her down, and she says she isn’t worried. Of course, I know my daughter and I don’t think she would tell me if she was worried. It was a long day, and Jeanette tells me that Jordan was bored and whiny most of the time. Still, she cooperated with the whole team at CHLA, and she demonstrated once again why she is so tough.
My head races to all of the possibilities. Is it back? Is cancer picking a fight again? Is it just hormones? Is it coincidence? The place I won’t let my head go is: why is this happening again? Why can’t we just get a break? But the whys never work. The answers are unsatisfying and the questions overlook the strength and resilience of the girl. So, I ask productive questions of the medical team. I hug my daughter and commiserate with my wife. To make the whole family feel better, I sliced up some ripe peaches, whipped up some fresh cream, and called it a day. We move on to the next.