“Who lives such as this?” my then 7-year-old son cried away whenever their sibling, then 13 years old, did a face-plant into her supper plate. We forced straight straight back my stool, stood up, and caught her as she seized, deftly unbuckling the band that kept her safe inside her own stool, and eased her jerking body towards the floor.
Her other sibling, 9 years of age, had currently set you back the family room to seize a pillow to place under her head when I kept her stiffening and jerking hands and feet from striking the dining table feet and kitchen kitchen stove. He brushed right right back the hair from her face along with his very own little hand.
“It’s OK, it is OK, it is OK,until it stopped and she was still” I murmured. We crouched down beside her, place my arms under her feet, and lifted her limp human body up, making my method along the hallway and into her space.
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The boys climbed back onto their stools and completed their dinners that she had nearly every single night at the dinner table while I sat with Sophie, watching her fall into the deep sleep that generally followed these seizures.
We live similar to this
Sophie got diagnosed with infantile spasms in 1995.