On Friday the 13th, seventeen years ago, Kurt had his first seizures. His dad and I hadn’t a clue why our toddler suddenly hiccupped and toppled down the basement steps. Or why, when Kurt was sitting in my lap eating Cheerios, his head dropped so forcefully that he smacked his forehead hard against our kitchen table?
Two days later, with a black eye and a nasty looking goose egg on his forehead from the previous falls, he was transported by ambulance to St. Paul Children’s Hospital after I found him seizing in his crib.
After a couple of days in the hospital having an EEG and CT Scan, Kurt was diagnosed with epilepsy. And those sudden drops were called atonic drop seizures.
Our path changed on that Friday the 13th.