Low-Grade Irritation (not quite strong enough for the Pit)

Hi, my name is Persephone, and life is moderately irritating to me today.

I’m a clinically depressed epileptic married mother of two, with financial problems, moderate marital strife, and a government job.

My cat is a jerk, my dog needs a bath, my daughter stole my lip gloss, and now it’s empty. My son is sleeping peacefully, but he’s shiny and smells like strawberries.

I have to have two wisdom teeth removed on Wednesday. I scheduled the appointment for Wednesday because the kids are in day care that day…or so I thought. “Oh honey, didn’t I tell you?” says my husband. “I switched from Wednesdays to Tuesdays, starting this week, because my boss wants me to work at the store on Tuesdays now, and I don’t have any students on Wednesdays anyway.” Sigh. Now on my things to do list: up the life insurance on husband.

Well, at least Wynton Marsalis shut up about Louis Armstrong for a minute. Now he’s rattling on about Coltrane. I suppose whatever he’s saying would be cool if I liked Coltrane.

Bowled like crap tonight, too. My one decent game was the one where the other team decided to open up a big ol’ honkin’ can o’ whoop-freakin’-ass on us. Lost by 220.

Oh well. I think I’ll go see if I can scrounge up some chocolate or something.

Hi Persephone! That line about your daughter stealing the lip gloss and your son being shiny and smelling like strawberry cracked me right the fuck up! Heeheehee…

Sorry it’s going bad. Hang in there.

Hey Perse! It’s Monday, dear. It’ll soon (just a little bit over 48 hours) be Thursdays and these current vexations will all be past tribulations.

(Strawberries? I don’t hang around little kids very much.)

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed something a little strange about my daughter (besides her usual three-year-old-ness). Sometimes when I or my husband will be speaking to her, it’s as if she’s just not there. I don’t mean like she can’t hear us–her hearing is fine (the ear infection she had a few weeks ago cleared up very nicely). We’ll be looking directly at her, talking directly to her, but her face is totally blank, and she is completely unresponsive.

The it hit me–when I was young, the same thing used to happen to me. My parents thought I was just “drifty.” Then, when I was 16, I had a grand mal epileptic seizure. After much discussion with a neurologist, he came to the conclusion that those episodes of driftiness were most likely petit mal seizures. This had never occurred to my parents–we have no history of epilepsy in my family. I hadn’t suffered any head trauma. Nothing at all to even make epilepsy cross their minds.

So, I called my mom, and asked her when these little spells started with me. She told me that she couldn’t remember me ever not having them. I discussed it with my husband, and we’ve decided to just keep track of them for a few weeks. I also talked to her day-care teachers today, and they said that they had indeed noticed them, starting about a week ago. These little spells are usually very brief–between 10 & 30 seconds at most, so for someone unfamiliar with them (like her day care teachers), they wouldn’t make a connection, either. I explained my suspicions to them, and they quite readily agreed to help keep track of them as well.

If they continue, I will talk to her pediatrician, and possibly take her to my neurologist (who also does pediatric neurology), and have her tested for epilepsy. I don’t want her to get a shock like I did, just having a grand mal seizure out of the blue. Especially not when I can do something about it.

I could be wrong. I hope I’m wrong. I’ve been lucky in that my seizures are quite well-controlled by medication, and for me, having epilepsy isn’t much more than a pain in the butt. But it’s not exactly something I want for my kids, you know?

Oh well. Wish us luck!

Oh honey! Those days suck, and the added worry about your daughter isn’t cool.
I think my son had two after his car accident but I don’t know what a minor one looks like. I have only delt with gan mal in an infant, not a mild one in an 8 year old.
And hey, about the lip gloss. My daughter decided to paint her fingers and toes with my favorite nail polish, and use a tube of $6 Avon lipstick. It must have been something in the stars yesterday.

So, from one mommy to another here’s a big hug…

I am also praying to the goddess that all is well with your daughter.

I forgot to mention that silver looks pretty in red hair. Trust me on this one.

That all just sucks, Persephone. Here’s some virtual chocolates filled with virtual liqueur, a nice “fluff” novel, some warm slippers and a hug, 'kay? Keep us updated on your daugher, please…

Do keep us informed, you’re in my thoughts and hopes.

The lip gloss thing is great though. In that very bad way. (I’m still a kid/adult)

Hugs and loves, dear.

Persephone, your second post to this thread bears a bit more weight than the first. Implications beyond Thursday and all that. It does sound like you and hubby have your perspectives tuned up; as you note, the potential problem is not what you would wish for your daughter, and it may not turn out to be present. But it is surmountable, as you know better than I.

'Luck to you and yours.

Oh, Persephone, honey, I am so sorry for all of your worries! I know I can’t do much, being so far away, but my heart goes out to you and I am saying prayers for both you AND your daughter.

And if you want to talk, or vent, or anything, email me.
I also work for a dentist, so if you need to talk about the wisdom teeth thing, I am your girl.

Aw, Christi, sorry to hear about all that’s going on with you. Sometimes we all need to just have a day for ourselves. I call mine my “pity party” day and I allow myself to whine all day. I call people and whine to them, I e-mail people and whine to them, any form I can find to just let the world know. Then I pick myself up, dust off a bit, and head into life for another round. You need to take a day like that. Believe me it really helps.
Here’s the best to you.

Nuts. I’m sorry you’ve hit a rough patch, P. But I wanted to tell you, as an epileptic mother of three, that I have been worried since the birth of my oldest about the chances of one of my kids having epilepsy. (Could that have been a more clumsy sentence? Ugh.)
Anyway, from what I’ve gleened from my neurologist, (and this is in my case–but, like you, I’m well-controlled by meds) my kids each have a 50/50 chance. The big news was that the older they get, the less likely they will develop problems with it. Now, I’m not suggesting that your situation is the same as mine. They’ve never been able to tell me exactly WHY I have epilepsy or what triggered it. But my suggestion is that a trip to your neurologist might not be such a bad idea. I do not think you’d be jumping the gun to have it checked out. Good for you for picking up on those ‘spells.’ You need a real pat on the back for that one.
Please let us know how everything comes out. I’ll be thinking about you and your little girl. Take care of you.


While I can’t give you advice from one mommy to another (at least, not until medical technology makes some real advances :)), I can give you a hug from one epileptic to another.


Methinks you’re right about those spells being petit mal seizures–they sound exactly like what I’ve heard petit mal described as in my classes.

Thank the forces for Tegretol. <shakes bottle> Shit, my script needs a refill.

Struuter–Are you certain about the genetic abnormality that causes your epilepsy? (Or, more correctly, is your neurologist?) [No, he’s not, I just reread your post.] I suspect you have slightly less than a fifty-fifty chance of passing it on, depending on the form of epilepsy. Certain forms require only one mutant allele; other forms require two mutant alleles. I suspect there’s a lower chance than your neurologist thinks–although he may have just been playing safe, given he doesn’t know the source.

Damn, I wish genetic analysis were more common by now.


Dear God:

I’ve prepared a little checklist for You. If you could just go over it and give it Your careful consideration, we would all be terribly grateful.

Thanks in advance. :slight_smile:

  1. May Persephone’s wisdom teeth have such shallow roots that they practically leap out onto the dentist’s tray.

  2. May the day care thing for the kids work out today, with not too much hassle and frantic reshuffling of schedules and driving around town.

  3. May the kids be especially well-behaved while Mommy is recuperating from having two teeth pulled. May they be absolute angels (yes, I know You can’t always do miracles…)

  4. May the hubby be sympathetic and supportive, and not suffer any major crises that he can’t handle himself, like being out of clean work shirts.

  5. May the car not break down or suffer a flat tire on the way home from the dentist or to pick up the kids.

  6. May there be plenty of milk and bread in the house, lest Persephone suddenly discover that she’s out of both.

  7. May the seizures give Persephone a break, for the day, at least.

  8. May there be something in the freezer she can cook for supper tonight.

  9. If not, let the hubby be inspired to go out for Happy Meals without having to be asked more than twice.

  10. Let there be something at least halfway decent on TV tonight. (Yes, I know, television programming isn’t Your bailiwick, but I would think that just this once You could cut a deal with Satan. He’s already got Regis; give him Kathie Lee.)

Today will probably be my “pity party” day, like ultress recommended. In about an hour and a half, I will be sitting in the dentist’s chair.

I had a flash of genius last night, and thank Goddess, it worked. I called my dad, and he’s keeping the kids overnight for me. This is a good thing for a few different reasons. I won’t have to deal with them, my dad and his wife are outstanding grandparents and love taking the kids, and my kids love spending the night with Gramma & Grampa. So, we’re all getting something out of this. :smiley:

I shall most likely be walking to the dentist’s office, unless my husband gets home in time (he’s taking the kids to Grampa’s as we speak) to drive me. Not a big deal, really–the dentist is only about 5 blocks away. I can walk it in about 10 minutes. But I am not walking home. Nope. No way.

I just hope it stops hurting soon. My Goddess. I’ve given birth to three children without benefit of pain medication, so my definition of pain is a little different. I’ve got a pretty high tolerance. But I’ll tell you what–given the choice between this mouth pain and giving birth without pain medication once a week for a year, I’ll take the giving birth. :eek:

DDG: Thanks for the prayers. After reading your posts around here for so long now, I just know that if God is going to listen to anyone, it’s gonna be you. :smiley:

The offending teeth are gone. The left side of my face appears normal, but there’s so much novocaine and gauze in it that it feels like I have an extra head sprouting from my bottom lip.

As per DDG’s request to God :), the teeth came out pretty darn easily. Didn’t take him but 15 minutes to get them both out. But he managed to loosen up the crown on the molar in front of the wisdom tooth on the lower left. So he fixed that too.

Husband is on the way to the drugstore. The dentist gave me a prescription for Tylenol 3, but he’s pretty confident that I won’t need much. Today, definitely. Tomorrow, likely. After that, maybe not. :smiley:

Okay, one crisis out of the way. What’s next on the list? Dinner? Hmmmm…what shall I have my husband bring home? Heh. No way I’m cooking. Even if this doesn’t hurt all that much, I’m gonna milk it. :smiley:

Glad to hear (most) things are going better. Some advice about the wisdom teeth removal - keep the clots in the empty sockets as long as you can (it feels gross, but it’s worth it - I lost one of my clots, and it was a bad thing), and make sure you take it easy and really look after yourself after the removal. I went into mild shock with one of my removals by trying to do too much too soon. That said, I was never so glad as I was the day my last removal was over and the pain went away for good :stuck_out_tongue:

Well, the pits where my teeth used to be feel fine. My jaw, on the other hand, is aching. Did I mention the SIZE of the needle that the dentist used to inject the novocaine? Good thing I’m not scared of needles. He had to inject where my upper & lower jaw connect. Did it real slow, too, like in the Bill Cosby routine. It didn’t hurt going in (he used a numbing agent before he stuck me with the needle), but the longer it took to get all the novocaine in, the more vertain I became that I was indeed going to pay for it later. Oy.

But enough about my teeth. I need to gripe about my shopping trip this evening.

Went to Meijer’s earlier this evening, to try & score some of that amazing ice cream Swiddles speaks of in her thread. Also had to get my nephew a birthday gift, and some valentines.

Didn’t get the ice cream, but I got everything else. So, I get in line in one of the “do it yourself” checkout lanes. The lady ahead of me decides to pay for her stuff with a check. Now, I realize that paying by check at the do-it-yourself lane is an option, but IMHO, it’s a stupid one. I mean, why? There’s a cashier who sits near the do it yourself lanes to assist customers with any problems that they may have, and also to take care of your business if you are going to pay by check. What’s the point? If you’ve got to give your check to a human for verification, why not just get in to a regular lane? Why allow checks in these lanes, if a human’s got to handle it anyway?

Nothing against check-writers–I am most certainly not anti-check. What I am, though, is anti-this-stupid-lady-who-didn’t-fill-out-her-check-ahead-of-time-and-hung-up-the-line-that’s-normally-faster-than-the-express-line. HELLO. Don’t happen to have any CLUES in that cart, do ya? Didn’t think so. :rolleyes: