The chime of the clocks having struck midnight. ‘Auld-lang-syne’ sung. Toast’s made. First Footing, footed and text’s, texted. We went wheel-walking through Queens Park to get some fresh air and stretch our legs.
I think many had the same idea, a lot of people were out, either with Children or walking dogs. It’s always good to see, or guess, what people have received for Christmas. A new bike, a doll and pram, a new phone – wow! so many smartphones. Dog coats, jumpers, leads and collars, everyone had a little something from the receiving of gifts last week.
I hoped to be more positive about my blogs this year, but it is also a record of hopes and fears, and in particular, reality that we can look back on as we seek professional input for our son, but also sharing a sense of reality with anyone who needs to see, they are not alone, if they also have to deal with similar challenges. To that end, I will share that our wheel-walk in the park was short lived as our son was struck, by a particularly unpleasant seizure.
Pushing him in his wheelchair up a hill (as if the timing could have been better) I saw his head an body snap to his left and his body shaking. With some cases of Epilepsy, it is always wise to leave a person having a fit to come out of it themselves due to the incredible strength and random movement can actually do you more harm if you seek to hold them. Making sure they are safe and will not choke and allow them to come around themselves. In our case, I have found our son values being hugged and gradually easing his head and neck back to a front looking position, cradling him until the spasms subside, then the tremors ease and we hold him while his disorientation begins to clear.
I know there are those who must see us in this ‘unusual’ embrace – halfway up a hill, holding onto the wheelchair and adult occupier all together, and decide to walk the opposite direction. Children stare in bewilderment at what they are looking at and all awhile, Lady Bronte is more interested in sniffing the nearest dog or chase the squirrel she has just seen, completely oblivious. In truth, that usual behaviour is appreciated and it keeps us grounded when all things are falling apart.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, our son has recovered sufficiently to begin to move again and my wife leads the way with Lady Bronte back to the car where we have our emergency grab-bag … and the flask of coffee. We take time to drink this – it is medicinal in itself, and then head home.
Maybe 2nd January will be better.