Wednesday, September 07, 2005
And I quote: "Zzzzzz."
So Rabbit's EEG results (from last Monday) were abnormal. She had four or five abnormal spikes. The pediatric neurologist couldn't decipher the relevance of those spikes, though, so she had a follow-up EEG yesterday. Exciting and wonderful.
Actually, it went very, very well. The nurse Rabbit had for the first one was really good with her; she was nice to her and Rabbit liked her. However, Rabbit has a HUGE problem with anyone messing with her head, and she screamed pretty much the whole time the nurse was putting the toddler cap on her and using the little syringe to move her hair out of the way.
If anyone's lost, I'm sorry -- since Rabbit's so young, instead of using individual nodes for the wires they use to read brainwaves, they use this cap that looks like a swimmer's cap. All the nodes are embedded in the cap, I think (I'm not too sure about the science involved), and there are these little plastic circles with tiny holes in the middle placed strategically throughout the cap. The nurse puts the cap on the child and uses a syringe (needle-less) filled with the EEG goo to move the hair under the holes out of the way (and I guess the goo conducts brainwaves or something. That sounds dumb, doesn't it? I should really look this up.), and the nurse has to press down a little bit with the syringe, and THAT is where Rabbit goes nuts.
Anyway, so the nurse last time was good with her, I thought. Until yesterday, when we had the Best Nurse Ever. She was so cool: she let Rabbit watch cartoons while she was attaching the sticky nodes (arms, side of head, ears), and she even let Rabbit help stick 'em on. Then she brought out the big gun -- a necklace with a plastic bubble wand/liquid pendant. So while the nurse put the cap on and did all this stuff that Rabbit hates with the fire of a thousand suns, Rabbit was sitting there BLOWING BUBBLES. Then the nurse let her lay down and watch cartoons for a few more minutes while she made sure everything was hooked up right. It was, so she turned them off and Rabbit was still while the flashing lights did their thing (and I looked away just in case) and then she fell asleep two minutes later. It was the perfect EEG experience. I know that sounds weird, but it really was. And the nurse and I talked a little, and Rabbit snored just like Dad does, which is always good for a few laughs, and then it was time to go.
Patient/healthcare provider relations really have come far, huh? Mom says that she remembers my EEGs (when I was young) being a much different experience. For the sleep-deprived EEG, she had to keep me awake for twenty-four hours. All night she and Dad took shifts. And then they had to keep me awake during the long drive to the hospital. While the EEG was being done, not even one of them was allowed in the room, and they were only allowed to watch through the window for a few minutes. I do not envy them that (rather scary) experience.
Contrast that with today's kiddie EEG experience. Sleep deprivation means going to bed late, getting up early, and skipping naps. (I'm sure if the child is old enough not to need naps, it's a different story, but Rabbit's only two.) Not only am I allowed into the room, I'm allowed to lay on the bed and cuddle with Rabbit, as much as the wires will allow, anyway, and I'm encouraged to bring her favorite naptime books and whatever stuffed animal or blanket she may require.
See, this is one of those times when I love progress with a fiery passion.
Next up is an MRI two weeks from now, and then a meeting with the pediatric neurologist. This sounds scary, but it's really good, because it means that instead of being tut-tutted into silence, our concerns about her predisposition toward a seizure disorder are actually being listened to. Always a good thing. At least, that's what I keep telling myself to keep from nibbling my fingernails to the quick.
Actually, it went very, very well. The nurse Rabbit had for the first one was really good with her; she was nice to her and Rabbit liked her. However, Rabbit has a HUGE problem with anyone messing with her head, and she screamed pretty much the whole time the nurse was putting the toddler cap on her and using the little syringe to move her hair out of the way.
If anyone's lost, I'm sorry -- since Rabbit's so young, instead of using individual nodes for the wires they use to read brainwaves, they use this cap that looks like a swimmer's cap. All the nodes are embedded in the cap, I think (I'm not too sure about the science involved), and there are these little plastic circles with tiny holes in the middle placed strategically throughout the cap. The nurse puts the cap on the child and uses a syringe (needle-less) filled with the EEG goo to move the hair under the holes out of the way (and I guess the goo conducts brainwaves or something. That sounds dumb, doesn't it? I should really look this up.), and the nurse has to press down a little bit with the syringe, and THAT is where Rabbit goes nuts.
Anyway, so the nurse last time was good with her, I thought. Until yesterday, when we had the Best Nurse Ever. She was so cool: she let Rabbit watch cartoons while she was attaching the sticky nodes (arms, side of head, ears), and she even let Rabbit help stick 'em on. Then she brought out the big gun -- a necklace with a plastic bubble wand/liquid pendant. So while the nurse put the cap on and did all this stuff that Rabbit hates with the fire of a thousand suns, Rabbit was sitting there BLOWING BUBBLES. Then the nurse let her lay down and watch cartoons for a few more minutes while she made sure everything was hooked up right. It was, so she turned them off and Rabbit was still while the flashing lights did their thing (and I looked away just in case) and then she fell asleep two minutes later. It was the perfect EEG experience. I know that sounds weird, but it really was. And the nurse and I talked a little, and Rabbit snored just like Dad does, which is always good for a few laughs, and then it was time to go.
Patient/healthcare provider relations really have come far, huh? Mom says that she remembers my EEGs (when I was young) being a much different experience. For the sleep-deprived EEG, she had to keep me awake for twenty-four hours. All night she and Dad took shifts. And then they had to keep me awake during the long drive to the hospital. While the EEG was being done, not even one of them was allowed in the room, and they were only allowed to watch through the window for a few minutes. I do not envy them that (rather scary) experience.
Contrast that with today's kiddie EEG experience. Sleep deprivation means going to bed late, getting up early, and skipping naps. (I'm sure if the child is old enough not to need naps, it's a different story, but Rabbit's only two.) Not only am I allowed into the room, I'm allowed to lay on the bed and cuddle with Rabbit, as much as the wires will allow, anyway, and I'm encouraged to bring her favorite naptime books and whatever stuffed animal or blanket she may require.
See, this is one of those times when I love progress with a fiery passion.
Next up is an MRI two weeks from now, and then a meeting with the pediatric neurologist. This sounds scary, but it's really good, because it means that instead of being tut-tutted into silence, our concerns about her predisposition toward a seizure disorder are actually being listened to. Always a good thing. At least, that's what I keep telling myself to keep from nibbling my fingernails to the quick.
