No UTI, and other news

The doctor left a message for us: The lab results on the pee sample were negative. JF does not have a urinary tract infection. Yay!

We still don't know for certain why he cried, as if in pain, multiple times Saturday morning. We'll have to assume that it was simply despair at not being able to earn an M&M because his bladder was empty. I'm a chocolate lover myself (currently trying to cut back on my chocolate intake because of mytral valve prolapse), so I sympathize with his plight. But if his chocolate cravings were the only reason we high-tailed it to Columbia Saturday morning, we need to find some other reward for using the potty!

I also sympathize with DDM's comment on my previous post, where she said that Bugga can't tell her whether he feels the need to go or not. There are so many things I wish JF could tell me. I don't know whether JF feels the need to go, either. The times that he has said to us, "More pee on the potty?" may have been just a simple craving for an M&M. With all of today's modern medical technology, you would think that there would be easier ways to figure out what's going on inside our bodies, or inside our children's bodies. It would save us a lot of useless worry.

That reminds me: JF had a sleep-deprived EEG today, because his PEP teacher reported to us (months ago) that he has staring spells, which could be mini-seizures. JF attends PEP class three hours per day, five days a week. His PEP teacher says he has about four staring spells in each three-hour period. When she told us about it, we realized that we've seen these staring spells before, but we'd never thought anything of them. We're so used to JF and his quirks, like having to do jumping jacks sometimes to get his attention. We had always thought that he just liked to daydream. And he doesn't do it at home as much as he does it at PEP. It seems that when more is being asked of him, he tends to space out more.

He had a sleep-deprived EEG last May, because we thought he might have had a seizure. A month before, he'd had a fever and suddenly became unconscious on the couch. AF rushed him to the ER, where the doctor there determined that he had a sinus infection, but that didn't explain the loss of consciousness. So that's where the referral for the first EEG came from.

When we showed up for the first EEG, I had forgotten my wallet and JF's blue puppy-blanket. Fortunately, my neighbor had come with me and paid the copay for me. (Thanks, Liz!) However, there's no replacing Puppy. After the nice lady-technician had placed all of the electrodes on his head, it was my job to get JF to fall asleep. He was tired, but he kept asking, in the most pitiful voice, "Puppy?" I gave him a washcloth to hold in its place, and sang to him to make up the difference. Then the technician let him sleep for about a half-hour, while she watched the zig-zag lines on the monitor. I was bored during that half-hour.

Then the tech had me wake up the boy, and she flashed bright lights in his face. He hated it. I had to hold his hands to keep him from covering his eyes. (It's amazing how we parents cooperate with tormentors.)

A week later, the results of that EEG were negative. No sign of epilepsy. So we don't know what happened on the couch that day. Maybe he passed out from the pain? Maybe it was a febrile seizure? We may never know.

At today's EEG, I remembered my wallet, JF's Puppy, and a book to read. This time, however, by the time the technician had placed all of the electrodes, JF was already asleep. I gave him Puppy anyway, just in case. The lady tech (the same one) asked me about the scar on his head. We told her everything we know about it: He was born with a laceration on his crown and the doctors "didn't know" what had caused it. She speculated that it might have something to do with his developmental delay, if the laceration had been deep enough. Interesting.

Otherwise, the test went the same as before. JF still hated the bright, flashing lights, and I still had to hold his hands, but he calmed down quickly when it was over. When we left, he said to the tech, "Bye bye. See you later." She was nice, but if we see her later, I hope it's not in the same place. I hope this is the last EEG we have to endure.