Thursday, December 31, 2009

Optimism out the window

At the strike of midnight 2 years ago, I remember sitting in our house and telling Mark "I have a feeling that 2008 is going to be a great year!" Wrong! I remember feeling very hopeful about having started Karissa on the ketogenic diet. I was hopeful to see where the diet would take us and the possibility that it could improve her learning. I was excited that maybe she would start to progress and develop. Maybe her speech and language would accelerate. Maybe she would start progressing in her fine and gross motor skills. I was hopeful for my little girl and for Mark and I to possibly get to experience just glimpse of what having a 'normal' child is like.

As you know, 2008 was the darkest year of my life. My worst fear came true. I always feared that Karissa would die of a seizure. I have never said this before, but I knew deep down in my gut that Karissa wouldn't live a long life. I hate saying it and I can't exactly remember when I felt it but I just knew. I just put in the back of my mind, hoping that I was wrong. But, my gut has ALWAYS been right.

For me, this past year hasn't been that great either. Mark disagrees with me and of course, 2009 pales in comparison to 2008. We have had our share of up's and down's and challenges this past year. I am afraid to be hopeful for the new year. Sad but true. When you get knocked down so many times, it is hard to keep getting back up and pushing forward and maintain a positive outlook on life. Anyways, that's all.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Only memories...

are all that is left of you.


video




Sunday, December 20, 2009

Memories

One of the memories of Karissa's last Christmas was going to downtown Riverside to "The Festival of Lights" to hear Mark's band play. All the lights, especially at the Mission Inn, were amazing! It was so cold and both Karissa and I were bundled up. Karissa always loved music and I remember dancing with her while Mark played that evening.

Anyways, tonight Mark is a playing, but I, of course, could not bring myself to go. I am doing my best to get through Christmas without Karissa but this, I could not do. It is painful to see people with their kids at Christmas and think, "ya, that used to be us." It is horrible and only those who have lost a child can understand. I HATE being the CHILDLESS couple...I loathe it actually. Especially during the holidays.

Anyways, these are some pictures that were taken at "The Festival of Lights" in 2007.




Friday, December 18, 2009

Like a quickly moving horror film

Sirens.
People.
Screaming.
Daddy.
Questions.
Anger.
Silence.
Prayers.
Death.
Coroner.
Screaming.
Police.
Telephone.
Karissa.
Lights.
Calls.
Reactions.
Numbness.
Angel.
Cold.
Wailing.
My.
Worst.
Fear.
Come.
True.
Mark.
Waiting.
Stop.
Prayers.
Kristy.
People.
Wailing.
Friends.
Pediatrician.
Response.
Perfect.
Karissa.
Eyelashes.
Skin.
Mom.
Firemen.
Body.
Bag.
Dream.
Gaylin.
Silence.
Sister.
Blue.
Seizures.
Suffering.
Lack.
Of.
Air.
Paramedic.
Despair.
Hope.
Breath.
The.
Cross.
Jesus.
Karissa.

Sometimes when I can't sleep at night, this is what runs through my mind.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Facing the inevitable



If I had my way, I would go away for Christmas again this year. Last year, Mark and I spent Christmas in Manhattan. We left on Christmas Eve. It was so much fun. We stayed out late, ate great food and drank great wine, went to a few shows and did some shopping.

I didn't even want to think about our first Christmas without Karissa. I didn't want to reminisce about the traditions we had started with our daughter, like going to Disneyland in the fall to pick out her ornament to hang on the Christmas tree. Or the several pairs of Christmas pajamas. The Christmas pictures and pretty dresses.

I didn't decorate my home for the holidays like I usually do. Not one single decoration, except for a candle or two. I couldn't bear to pull out the decorations and come across her stocking or see all of her special ornaments.

So, our first Christmas without Karissa we escaped from it all. But, you know, I was still unbearably sad. I found myself walking the streets of Manhattan clinging to Mark in tears, just wishing our daughter was with us. Thinking how much she would love all the lights and the stroller rides. It was tough.

This year I have decorated my home. We have our Christmas tree up, however, it is a very generic looking tree. No special keepsake ornaments, in fact, I knew exactly which box contained all of Karissa's things and I just put it aside for another Christmas. I even put a Christmas tree in Karissa's room decorated with none other than purple lights. I love walking by her room and seeing the glow of all the lights. It makes me happy.



This year is a little easier. Just a little. I have found what I can and cannot handle. For one, I can't listen to Christmas music. Obviously it can't be avoided, but I don't have it blaring in my house for the entire month of December, which is usually the norm. Shopping and wrapping presents is a little tough, especially when it came to shopping for my 4 year old niece, who is only a month older than Karissa. I left the Christmas tags blank because I couldn't bring myself to leave off Karissa's name and just write 'From: Mark and Adrianne.'

I guess what I am trying to say is that I am doing my best to get through one of the toughest times of the year. I don't want to escape and run away. That didn't work the first time, although it did numb the pain, but only temporarily.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The 8th

I never quite know how I will feel on the 8th of every month. Sometimes, the anticipation is worse than the actual day itself. Will I cry my eyes out all day? Will I even be able to make it out of bed? Will I call a friend? Probably not. Or will I just go about my day like any other day? Possibly.

I remember when we were approaching August 8th, 2008, a month after Karissa died. I recall feeling absolutely freaked out about the uncertainty of the emotions that the upcoming day would bring. I got through it though, just like all the other '8th's.'

I have to admit that last month, the 8th came and went, uneventfully. The next day I realized what the date was and I started to feel very guilty that I forgot it was the 8th day of the month. I felt sad that I had forgot about the date. Like I had forgotten about Karissa.

It is weird how time passes after you have suffered such an incredible loss. Everyone goes on with their lives while mine seems to have come to an abrupt halt. The world doesn't stop, in fact, it doesn't even care. Weird. Sometimes, I will sit out on my front porch watching the cars drive by or the people walking down the street and think "they don't know what has happened, look how they are just going about their business." It is all too weird and hard to explain I guess. Surreal almost.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Karissa's Story

As National Epilepsy Awareness Month comes to a close, I wanted to share Karissa's story. Some of you are all to familiar with Karissa's epilepsy, but for those of you whom I have never met and who read my blog, I wanted to share her story with you. This is somewhat painful for me to write as it brings back a lot of unpleasant memories of Karissa's life. But, something that I want to share.

While we are almost certain that Karissa's seizures started from birth, we did not actually witness her first seizure until she was 2 weeks of age. It was Tuesday April 12th, 2005. We were returning home from a gig that Mark had played in that evening. We had driven separately, since Mark had to be there early to rehearse.


I can recall earlier that same day, after returning from the car wash, bringing Karissa inside and thinking "she looks a little blue." She was breathing and was awake and responsive but I knew something just wasn't right. A mother's instinct is always right! ALWAYS!! The same thing had happened a few days before while she was napping. Again, she was breathing normally.


After arriving home from the concert, I had Mark get Karissa out of the car. He brought her inside the house, still in her car seat. He put the car seat on top of the washing machine and proceeded to take her out. She was blue, stiff, eyes fixed and rolled behind her head and she was not breathing. Mark took her into the dining room and quickly removed her clothing and was trying to stimulate her little body. She had a pulse. Good.


Meanwhile, I had called 911. To this day, I can still remember everything about those few terrifying moments. I was in the kitchen when I made the call. I still remember exactly how the kitchen looked, the lighting, where I was, what was on the floor, EVERYTHING. I remember frantically telling the 911 dispatcher over and over that my baby wasn't breathing and that my husband is a doctor.


Even though it seemed like an eternity, Redlands police and fire, paramedics and ambulance arrived in just minutes. Our entire dining room was filled with unfamiliar faces, staring at my child, staring at us...it was weird. One of the men that was in our living room that evening was also present in our home on July 8th, 2008, the day Karissa died. By the time they had arrived, Karissa looked normal, as if nothing had ever happened. I felt as if we almost had to convince them that something was terribly wrong with our daughter. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital.


Once in the ER, a battery of tests were done on Karissa. It was heart-breaking to see my 2-week-old daughter, still a newborn, having to go through all the testing. I think the worst was when they had to perform a spinal tap, not once, but TWICE (they missed the 1st time), on my baby girl...I would have done anything to take her place and spare her the pain of having a needle stuck in her spine.


We were in the ER for what seemed like an eternity. The most frustrating part was that not one person seemed to believe what were saying. Seriously, are you kidding me?? My child was BLUE and she looked like she was DEAD. It was more than just "a febrile seizure that is very common." Karissa didn't have a fever to begin with so that made no sense whatsoever. It helped once Mark informed the staff that he was a medical doctor. At least that gave some credibility to what we were saying.


Not long after we were in the ER, Karissa had another seizure and then another. Ok, so now they believed us. Especially when her oxygen saturation decreased down to 60 and they had to get the crash cart. Praise God we didn't need to use it though. Her seizure stopped, she was given oxygen and she was ok.


Karissa was admitted to the hospital and was seen by the pediatric neurologist. She was started on, what I refer to as, the zombie drug, Phenobarbital. Those 4 nights in the hospital seemed like an eternity. I remember saying to the nursing staff to please keep the O2 on and ready just in case she had another seizure. At the time, knowing that O2 was there, was one of the most comforting things in the world. I was dreading taking my baby home and not having that O2 there just in case.


On Saturday April 23, 2005, Karissa was discharged from the hospital and given a diagnosis of Benign Neonatal Seizures of Unknown Etiology, meaning, no cause or reason was found to explain her seizures. Every test came back normal. We were told that she would "grow out" of her seizures.


Sometime in November of 2005, Karissa was weaned off the phenobarbital. It was a time where I was filled with such mixed emotions. I was happy to get her off that mind-numbing drug, but yet, I was terrified. The medication was the one thing that had stopped her seizures and kept her seizure-free for the past 7 months or so. 


Once off the phenobarbital, Karissa was an entirely different little girl. Her eyes were much brighter and she seemed so much more alert. Karissa remained seizure-free until August of 2006. 

Mark and I were awoken by Karissa in the early morning hours of August 20, 2006. She was making weird shrieking sounds. I was terrified. We weren't sure what was going on. There was nothing we could do to get her to stop. It didn't appear as if she was having a seizure. It looked more like a night terror. Regardless, we took her to the ER. As it turns out, the seizures were back. Another 3 night stay in the hospital, a battery of tests and a new round of medications, phenobarbital and keppra. We were informed by the neurologist that keppra may induce seizures. Great.


The meds worked for about a week and then the seizures started up again. We were back in the hospital. Another 3 night stay, more tests, all of which came back normal and the keppra was stopped and depakene and topamax were added in addition to the phenobarbital. The diagnosis was now Partial Complex Seizures of the Meso-Temporal Lobe. Over the course of the next few months, Karissa's medication regimen changed. Eventually, she was on topamax and trileptal and remained on these two meds for the rest of her life.
 
September 2, 2006 ~ 3rd hospitalization ~ 18 months old




Karissa was not given the diagnosis of Epilepsy until April 2007. In order to get a diagnosis of epilepsy, one has to have an abnormal EEG which occurs during a seizure. Karissa had already had 2 or 3 EEG's, one of which was done when she was 2 weeks old. The problem was that Karissa never had a seizure during any of the EEG's that were performed.


I remember being quite frustrated with the neurologist. I wanted to know more about what was happening with my daughter, what was going on in her brain that was causing her to have seizures and global developmental delay. I clearly remember the doctor saying that a 24 hour (or longer) EEG could be done but that would require her to be hospitalized and monitored and require us going into L.A.  He didn't seem willing or aggressive enough to explore that option. That is when we made the decision to change Karissa's neurologist.


The new neurologist was great. We made an appointment, drove into L.A., saw the doctor and she scheduled the EEG for later that week. On April 4, 2007, Karissa was admitted and the EEG monitoring was started. This involved weaning her off one of the meds so that she would have a seizure. She was in the hospital for only 2 nights this time!  About 30 hours or so into the monitoring,  Karissa started having a few seizures.  We learned that the seizure activity was in the right occipital and temporal lobes of her brain. This partly explained why Karissa's speech and language and memory was being effected.

April 2007 ~ 4th hospitalization ~ EEG monitoring ~ 24 months old 





After the EEG was done, her hair was so yucky from all the junk that was used to get the EGG leads to stick to her head.


Karissa's epilepsy effected her in so many ways, yet, she always had a huge smile on her face! She was an amazing little girl despite all of her challenges. She was also diagnosed with global developmental delay, meaning, she was delayed in most skills including gross motor, fine motor, cognitive and speech and language.  She stopped hitting her milestones. We had her enrolled in the Early Start Program in October of 2006. Karissa started receiving occupational therapy twice a week, physical therapy once a week, a weekly home visit from a special ed teacher and a mommy-and-me class once a week. We were provided with these services until she was 3 years of age. We also started her on the ketogenic diet in December of 2007. To read more about our journey on the ketogenic diet, go to posts "What? She has to eat that? The ketogenic diet part 1-4."

Two of Karissa's Early Start Teachers ~ March 28th, 2008



Karissa died in her sleep on Tuesday July 8th, 2008 of a seizure. An autopsy was done and nothing was found to indicate the cause of death. It was believed that the cause of death was SUDEP - Sudden Unexplained Death in Epilepsy.

Sunday July 20, 2008, a memorial was held for Karissa. It was beautiful. Over several hundred people were present at the service. It was amazing to see all the people that Karissa had an impact on during her very short time on Earth. On August 30, 2008, Karissa's ashes were scattered over the ocean.

As I look back on the few days before her death, there are a few things I am thankful for. We were on vacation the week before Karissa died. I am so thankful that we had that time to spend together as a family.  Another blessing was that on the last Thursday before Karissa died, she said to me, with perfect clarity, "momma it hurts me, I love you." This had such an impact on me, especially now, because at 3 1/2 years old, Karissa could not talk. She could say only a few words and mainly could only babble. So, to hear her say those words was amazing and a precious gift. I feel that it was God's way of preparing me for something that I believe He knew was going to take place even before Karissa was born.

The night before she died, I prayed that Jesus would heal my baby girl, that he would take away her seizures so that she wouldn't have to be in pain any longer. I prayed that He would give me continued patience and strength for the road ahead and that He would continue to be with Mark and I as we struggled with the many challenges of having a child with special needs. I have heard it said many times before that God answers prayers, just not always in the way we want or hope.

Thursday July 3rd, 2008 ~ Vacation



Not a day goes by where I do not think of my sweet little girl. The only thing that brings a smile to my face is to know that she is completely healed and will never suffer a seizure ever again. But, more importantly is the hope and assurance that I will be reunited with my daughter one day.