What's wrong with your face?

Our routine started out as usual Wednesday morning and was moving along as scheduled until Paul walked into the kitchen, took a look at Bay and asked "What's wrong with your face?"

I hadn't noticed but her left eye and the left side of her mouth were visibly drooping. Her dads way of approaching it made her freak out immediately and made me kick into "it's alright mode." We took a closer look and asked her if she had felt anything different recently and she told us that Tuesday morning while she was crying at school (a whole different story) her face was tingly. Since tingling is on the long line of things to watch out for, the decision was made for us - we were headed to the emergency room.

We arrived at the E.R. at about 7:30. They got her into a room in about 2 minutes, which was a nice change from our last experience, and the doctor was there in about 10. He asked a few questions, took a glance at her medical records and ordered an MRI. I was amazed at the efficiency with which they handled our concerns. This felt more like what one would expect when their child had a possible stroke - not at all like the last time.

They took her to MRI at about 10 and from there admitted her to a holding room on the 4th floor. There were no "real" rooms available because the hospital was full so this is where we were to stay until they found us a place.

Her Neurologist, Dr. Dove, came in to see her at about 11:00. He said that the MRI was negative and that there was no new stroke. He also said that the original stroke had "evolved as expected." He basically told us that there was no explanation for the drooping on her left side and since it was mostly gone now that she could either stay overnight for observation or she could go home. This, of course, was very frustrating for us. How can a doctor look you in the eye and say "well, I just don't know" and then let you decide if you stay or if you go. The lack of urgency or apparent concern just made us more uncomfortable. Here we were waiting for these professionals to tell us what was wrong and how they were going to resolve it and we got nothing.

After about six seconds of discussion it was decided that Bailey would go home. We figured that we could watch her at home as well as they could watch her at the hospital and since staying in the hospital meant that she would miss another day of school she was completely against that idea.

We are dealing with sort of a double edged sword when it comes to Bay and stress. When she is stressed she has symptoms that are obvious and for all we knew the drooping could have been directly caused by her crying the day before. She gets stressed when she can't go to school. So, we keep her in the hospital, she misses school, she gets stressed and she has symptoms. What the hell are we supposed to do?

I tried to tell her that she needs to quit getting so stressed out and her response was "well quit putting me in a position to be stressed." I was so angry with her. Lately I do everything I can to hide my irritation when she is being irrational but I couldn't let this go. Paul and I have NEVER pushed her at school. We would be proud of her if she pulled in C's in the regular classes and here she was getting A's and B's in AP, Honors and CIS classes. These classes have always been her choice. We have just sat back and watched her succeed. Now I wish we would have reigned her in a bit, maybe encouraged her to relax a little bit.

I explained to her, in my calmest voice, that I have never put her in a position to be stressed out. Her stress about school is self imposed. Her teachers are working with us and being very understanding and there was really no reason for her to be freaking out about missing a few days. She apologized to me for blaming me for her freak out.

I realize that this whole situation is very stressful for her, more then I will probably ever understand. In fact the best words we have found to describe it are simply "it sucks." This being said, it is hard to be caretaker, chauffeur, wardrobe assistant, stylist, laundress, transcriptionist, cook, manicurist and all things in between and also carry the title of Scapegoat. I couldn't let her statement go. It hurt too much to carry that one with me a long with everything else.

So, we are home now. We have discussed our new roles - hers as child and mine as parent - and how she will have to slow down and I will have to enforce it and how she will not be mad at me for it. In an early blog post I asked the question of whether a sniffle will every be just a sniffle again and now I have my answer - no, it will not. It is hard enough to swallow that but to know that my concern will be seen as a cause of stress is even worse.