Ever since the night of the seizure, I haven’t loved being a patient. I don’t like being poked, prodded, scanned, and examined, but I have become more and more accepting of this position for one main reason…it is me and not someone else. I can endure being inconvenienced or put through pain far more than I can handle watching someone else do the same. This (among many other reasons) is why what happened on Saturday morning was so hard to take.
Lydia had her first soccer game this Saturday and was so excited. Watching her nephews play over the years has had her asking when it would be her turn and this year she was finally old enough to join the league at Briarlake. About five minutes into the game, she took a hard ball to the jaw. Adam is helping coach her team and was on the field so she immediately ran to him for help. That was when a minor, shake it off type injury turned into something I never would have imagined. As Adam knelt down trying to console her, I saw her body jerk and then go limp as he lowered her to the ground.
In an instant my feet were moving to run to her and the tears were flowing as I went into full on panic mode. My first thought was “this can’t be happening”. Last Sunday I told the story of my seizure and health issues to the people of Briarlake Church in the building next door. Now, less than a week later, my five year old is having a seizure on the field outside. How is this possible?
The seconds she was unconscious seemed like hours. The minutes I was uncontrollably crying repeating “this can’t happen to our family…this can’t happen to our family” while the paramedics were called seemed like days. And the cries of my hurt and confused little girl seemed to go on for a lifetime.
Lydia had me take a picture of her jersey so she could see what the back looked like with her name on it
After a full examination by the wonderful staff at the Scottish Rite emergency room, they told us they do not think Lydia had a seizure or any severe head trauma. She tends to have a difficult time handling stress and a soccer ball to the face sent her to a level of anxiety we have never seen before in our little girl. They think she had a panic attack which got so severe that she briefly lost consciousness. Figuring out a way to help her handle stress and anxiety in the future is something we know we are going to have to make a priority so we can make sure something like this does not happen again. The next day, she was back to her old self and did not seem to have any lasting effects from everything that happened. Adam and I on the other hand are another story.
Lydia drew a picture for her Aunt T on the back of her discharge paperwork on our way home from the hospital so she would know she was ok
Ever since we started this crazy journey that began on the night of my seizure, I have learned a lot about trust. I have learned to have a huge amount of trust in my husband, my family, and our community (who once again flew into action on Saturday praying for us and providing for our family’s needs as soon as they learned about Lydia). I have learned to trust that my seizure, tumor, and every other piece of my medical insanity has not been by chance. But what about everything else? I would love to say that I have learned to completely trust God with everything in my life, but the more I think about it, the more I realize there are a lot of “buts” for me. I trust God with my health, BUT I feel like my kids’ and Adam’s health are off limits. I trust God with my future, BUT their future (and how anything in mine may impact them) is an area I don’t want to relinquish what control I think I may have. I trust God with my nephews, niece, sisters, brother, parents, dogs…BUT sometimes…well, I just don’t.
How do I trust? How do I make myself believe that God has not just my best interest in mind but all of those that I love? How do I convince myself that He loves my children, my husband, my family, and my friends more than I ever could?
I wish I had some super insightful answer to those questions. I wish I had the trust that I feel like so many people believe I have. It is then I am reminded THAT is exactly why Jesus came in the first place. Because we need Him. He doesn’t expect me to handle things on my own because, whether I can believe it right now or not, He is enough.