9 Days and 9 Nights

My sincerest apologies to those of you pining for the next episode of Meg's Anatomy. Believe me when I invoke the adage, "No news is good news." Since last Tuesday, Meg has cooperated in allowing me to focus on my return to school. Meanwhile, Jen has begun her new occupation as childcare professional, a career that is no less emotionally challenging than her previous position.

Reader's Digest Anecdotes.

In 1940s Europe, civilians became all too familiar with the chilling alarms of air-raid sirens, sounds that sent ordinary people fleeing in terror. I will personally attest that the modern day version of such an experience is the apnea monitor in our bedroom, our living room, our dining room, Babies R Us, Walmart, or wherever we can be found. In my line of work, I have learned to make rage one of the last responses ever to overcome me. Discipline of mind gave way to humanness the third night we spent at home. As designated bather of babies (my contribution since I haven't the skills to breastfeed), I had given Meg a bath on Thursday afternoon... and rubbed her down with baby oil, a substance that makes monitor patches refuse to stick. The loose connections led to my threatening to launch the machine from our second story window when it roused us at five minute intervals with its piercing. Chemistry lesson for the day: oil and sleep apnea monitor do not mix.

Meg was introduced at church Sunday morning. Despite our attempts to spare Jen from bawling (sneaking in late, sitting in the rear, making little eye contact), Pastor John's moles in the sound booth did not let us escape his attention. Fortunately, Meg is already understanding enough not to embarrassed by her mother's tears and her father's clumsy attempts at jokes to mask his nervousness.

Actual Updates (for those bored to tears with the "anecdotes" segment of the episode, myself included)

The little patient has been seizure free for 14 full days... we think. I add the addendum because sub-clinical seizures are possible, and we would not know that these had occurred without the use of an EEG. She continues to eat very well, and her periods of waking have become more frequent and more convincing. Meg gains better control of her eyes each day, and her physical strength is surprising for a three-week-old.

Wednesday afternoon, Meg was reintroduced to the first man she ever truly loved in her life, our family doctor. She looked a little different this time, and so did he quite frankly. For one thing, he wasn't trying to regain his breath as he was the night he bolted up to the 3rd floor delivery room just in time to keep her from hitting the floor. His physical exam of her found no abnormalities, and she managed to stay awake for the lengthy wait in the hall and the examination, which is more than I can say for myself.

Wednesday night, Meg met a new man, a tall, dark, and handsome chiropractor for whom I will not make up a name because he happens to be my best friend's father-in-law. After every test run by the medical experts at St. V's turned up few to no possible causes for Meg's seizures, we have elected to see what chiropractic medicine may have to offer in the way of answers. As my great uncle, the chiropractor, once said, "If doctors and chiropractors could find a way to get along, they could fix anything." Perhaps Meg has found a new mission field in reconciling these two long-estranged sister sciences. We will see. Anyway, the chiropractor probed around in the back of her skull and found the first piece of evidence in nearly three weeks that is abnormal. Meg's neck felt different on each side of her spine directly below the base of her skull. He explained that a fast labor (less than 2 hours is pretty fast) can exert greater pressure on a baby's neck than a longer labor and may lead to alignment problems. And potentially, seizures. As I held her peaceful, sleeping body in my lap, he cracked her tiny neck one way, then the other way, and back again. It gives me the willies just picturing it. But Meg did not stir a muscle until he was finished. She stretched a bit, made a few squeaky sounds, and continued her slumber. We will return for another adjustment on Saturday.

Today, Meg completed her trifecta of doctors in twenty four hours with her visit to the neurologist in St. V's. We went with the expectation of an exam, lab work, and an EEG. Dr. Ageless very apologetically broke the news to us that the EEG technician in his building only performed the procedure on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays, news that he first learned today. His examine revealed nothing more or less than the examine she received the previous day, and the lab work could more easily have been completed at a nearby facility. While we enjoyed some laughs with our neurologist buddy, we were keenly aware that the trip had revealed little. Furthermore, the lab tech's attempts to collect urine were predictably fruitless, as Meg had already emptied herself into her diaper, soaking her onesie during our trip to the office. One small piece to the puzzle that we gained from today: typically a seizure patient will be on meds for four to six weeks before dosages are reevaluated. What does this mean? In another three weeks, Meg will have had several more adjustments to her spine, adjustments that may make the medications unnecessary. We will have to wait and see. And pray.

With all that said, our baby is home, we have an immediate family of four, extended family, church family, terrific caregivers, each with various special necessary skills. We have a Father who quietly, ever so subtly reminds us that He has got it all under control. My devotional Bible has brought me to the Joseph story of Genesis. In fact, I read the end just this morning. For years Joseph was not privy to the broad scope of his life. But now that we know the end, we say, "Oh silly Joseph, can't you see? God knew all the time! Why did you ever worry?" Sure, that's easy to say when you know the end. Do we know how this ends? Well, we know who wins in the end, and that we are in His care is sufficient. We can sleep. Unless of course Meg's patches don't stick.