The hospital

Tomorrow's the big day. 5-9 days in the hospital (Children's St. Paul) to start the Ketogenic Diet. Joe and I will take turns spending the night, yipee. I just hope we don't have a loud roommate or any roommate. The first two days Dermot will fast, yuk. While he's busy doing that, Joe and I will get educated by the dietian on how to prepare and feed Dermot his new food. Today I got a head start and gave him whipped cream and scrambled eggs with butter for breakfast. I think I might end up gaining some weight from tasting the whipped cream for every meal. We'll sweeten it with Stevia, a natural sweetener, it works great.

If you're looking for something to do, please feel free to call us on our cell phones, offer to bring us lunch or dinner, or just stop by and visit..it will make the time go by a lot quicker. I have the latest issues of People and Us waiting to be read, plus a few books I haven't been able to finish.

I hope Dermot gets through the first part of this process okay. The book tells me that after we're released it may take a few weeks to fine tune the diet for optimum seizure control. I'm just worried that he won't eat the food because it's so different from what he's eating now.

Let go and Let God.

I'll keep you posted.

Comments

Katy said…
My thoughts are with you today (and this week). I hope the transition to the new diet goes smoothly. I will check in with you soon.

With love,
k
September 8, 2008 at 6:26 AM
Lisa said…
I hope that things have gone ok so far. Hopefully the fasting time will go quickly and Dermot gets adjusted to his new diet easily! Sue, will you be there Friday noon? Both kids have school so I would love to bring you lunch. If that doesn't work I will bring you dinner one night, let me know when you will be there.
Thinking of you....
Lisa
September 8, 2008 at 6:01 PM
Anonymous said…
hope both you and derm did well today.

Prayers are with you

Tom
September 8, 2008 at 11:52 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Letter to Dermot

Image
"Letter to Dermot" Dermot, I’ve been trying to put off this letter for quite some time. I just gave birth to your little brother and have realized how heartbroken I am over you. I look at pictures of you and get a tinge of sadness where I should get joy. I see the things you cannot do and the things you won’t be able to do. I’m so sad about it. I feel responsible, so much more than anyone else knows. I look back on the day you had your first seizure and I’m so angry with myself that I didn’t know what was happening. I feel like the length of time was my fault and that it caused more damage to your brain than was necessary. I’m so sorry. I know that you deserve the best in everything for your life and my regrets run deep. God has a plan for our family, I know. All of the challenges that you go through help make us stronger, but I wish more than anything that I could take all the pain away, all of the drugs, all of the therapy. I sometimes imagine you as a normal little guy get...
Read more

Fourth time

Just as I crossed the last thing off my grocery list, I heard a muffled chime from my purse. I thought to myself, I wonder if its Dermot's school. Not really believing it was, but teacher Jan was on the other end of the line. "Hi Sue, Laurie has administered the Diastat for Dermot", she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "Okay, I'll be right there" I said. I looked down at my full cart of much needed groceries and pushed them to the register. One part of me wanted to continue and check out as if nothing was happening, the other, wiser part said "get the hell out of here". Another abadoned cart at the grocery store. This time I call Joe, "I'll meet you there" he says. Three stoplights later and a quick jaunt on the highway and I'm there. Wiped the tears away and ask the receptionist for admittance to the special education wing of the school. I walk briskly to Dermot's classroom. The other little boys are having circle...
Read more

Profoundly

I've written many essays in my head. There's the one about being embarrassed by Dermot throwing up in the hospital cafeteria, or the one about friends and how they've changed over the years, or the story about the man I met at the hospital with the nineteen year old son with Dermot-like disabilities or my favorite, the way I use chocolate chip cookies as therapy. I sit in waiting rooms and write in my head, by the time I get home the details are lost or the energy has left me. I sit awake in bed staring at the ceiling knowing what I want to write, then I get out of bed, start up the computer and my words have left my head. I've been struck by how profoundly sad I am. I am really sad. The challenges keep coming, changing. I've learned many coping mechanisms, I've found a higher power to run the show, I seek out help from support groups and therapists, I volunteer to help others. All of these things make me feel better, but to my bitter disappointment, they do...
Read more