Tuesdays With Mami: Revenge of the Seize


The frog princess suffers from febrile seizures. And just when I start thinking "maybe she's hit that age when they will miraculously disappear" I'm proven wrong.


She rolled up into my room before 6 a.m. As I commanded her to fall back asleep after she climbed in my bed she said "my tummy hurts" but was holding her throat. I asked if her throat hurt and she said yes then proceeded to fall asleep.

When we woke up she told me she'd just been thirsty and grabbed her water. As is my usual, the lips had gone to the forehead in the age old Mamihood thermometer move. She was cool.

It was her BFF's birthday and she was SO EXCITED to be going to the Frozen themed pool party.

As I opened the door I thought "let me grab her undies so that she doesn't ride back in a wet suit". We had been singing the Peg Plus Cat theme song. The door was ajar and seeing as my room is steps from the door, it took me what? Forty five seconds at most? As soon as I stepped out of my room, I knew something was wrong.

That wretched sound known all too well by those that have seen and heard someone seize was upon me. It took me 2 seconds to get to the door. And there she was in a full seizure on the stoop.

This is the thought that entered my mind even before I saw her "she was jumping around, fell on the concrete, hit her head and the fall caused a grand mal seizure". I did not realize that a fever had suddenly spiked on my excited girl that morning.

I called for help and woke up the neighborhood, I'm sure. Two things ran through my head:

  • Is she breathing?
  • Did she injure herself?

Her lips were already losing color. I turned her on her side and watched, prayed, called out orders. I held her head as best I could so it wouldn't hit up against the concrete while trying not to block her airway. It lasted 2, maybe 3 minutes.

Post Seizure Unconsciousness

It's not enough to watch your child convulse as you sit there helplessly, you have to deal with postictal state. My girl was unconscious for close to an hour. In that time, she shivered as her body temperature dropped during and after the seizure then proceeded to climb, slowly but surely.

Executive decision was made and I ran her to the ER understanding something was causing the seizure and it was probably an infection and keenly aware that I couldn't rouse her enough to give her medicine that would control the fever. I do believe Dante totally forgot to mention this level of hell.

The Verdict

At the ER, they went to take a throat culture. When the swab came out, I noticed pus. Fun times. Even though we got rid of her tonsils in November, she still managed to catch a strep infection.

We took her home with a Rx for antibiotics. There's a level of crankiness that takes over along with being plain ol' tired. She slept a lot on Saturday. Upset that she didn't go to her BFF's party and completely clueless as to what had happened. When I questioned her about the last thing she remembered before waking up in the car with me, she vaguely mentioned crouching on the stoop. She does this normally as we like to look at ants and other critters. This saved her from a full fall for which I'm grateful.

Mother's day took a back seat as I mothered (and probably smothered). I CANNOT wait for Life Patch to get going and for someone to call me about a trial or something. Anything to not have to go through this again.

Through all that, though, we are keenly aware of how lucky we are. How "it's just this". Even in the midst of our anguish we are filled with gratitude. My prayer is that this will be the LAST one she has. And that our experiences can perhaps help another parent going through a similar situation.

Mother's Day

Better Than a Hallelujah


I wake up startled by a dream. And instinctively reach for her forehead. It's hot and my brain cannot move fast enough. 100.4. Shit!

I can't seem to get the 9 ounces of ibuprofen into the cup. My prayer chant begins. God please don't let her seize, please don't let her seize. Jesus, please!

I give her the meds and text her dad. She is in bed the way I found her. Curled up like a snail, arms tucked in, knees under her, butt in the air. Please. God.

She asks for more water and I curse at myself because I don't have her thermos. Did I leave it in the car? I run to the kitchen and fight the images that come. It takes less than a minute but as I rush back I brace myself to see it.

I hear her singing softly. Sometimes her sounds, muffled by walls and her repetition sound like the gurgling. So my stomach sinks and I feel nauseous. But when I walk in she smiles and politely thanks me for the water I just handed over.

She's got goosebumps. Now I worry about that. I worry that her temperature may continue to go up. I worry that her temp is going to go down to fast. God, can you hear me? Listen to this mother's prayers. Please don't let my baby seize.

I smile. I listen, I check her temp because the dance begins now. I hear nothing back from her dad. Figure he's fast asleep and consider waking him but he's got work in the morning. I wish my mom was here.

I wish I didn't feel so helpless. She tells me we don't drink the pool and that we don't eat the beach and I laugh and think that sounds like a good book title. She tells me her tummy hurts.

I check her temp. Its going up. Each decimal brings with it more prayers. Each shiver, each time she clenches her fist. I have to fight the images.

This is what I was afraid of when she picked up that juice box that wasn't hers when I wasn't watching her for 3 seconds. Now she plays with the cool washcloth after she has eaten her ice pop.

She gives me her big playful smile and puckers her lips. I lean in and gladly kiss those perfect lips that can speak truth and laughter all at once. We sing. Because that's just how we roll around here.

My lips touch her forehead. She feels cooler. Now I worry about how fast her temp is going down.

"I wanna be a cowgirl!" She exclaims, out of the blue.

I can't remember what time this started. The text to her dad says 3:20 am. It is 4:03. My lips tell me her temp is down but I confirm it with the Exergen. 99.8 on 2 different readings.

My baby girl lies back. Ready to resume her slumber. I pretend like I'm okay. But I'm not. I'm scarred by memories of clenched fists and thrashing body. Of saliva pouring out of her mouth with a hint of blood because she hit her lips on the tile. Of prayers for my child to keep breathing and for the convulsion to stop. I pray for so much. The last time, in that brief period my mother's heart broke open as I thought of others who are less fortunate. Who seize constantly and with consequences beyond my own scarring.

I keep praying as I pretend everything is normal. I think of Amy Grant's song and how I know so well about the power of those lines "God loves a lullaby and a mother's tears in the dead of night, better than a hallelujah sometimes."

I would cry if she wasn't aware. But she is. So I fuss and I act annoyed when she is overusing the thermometer to take the "tempacha" on her foot.

It is 4:12. I am mentally exhausted. Sleep came to me well past 1 am so I have maybe 2 hours under my belt.

4:14 am and her temp reads 98.6. I have tears in my eyes. Thank you God.

2013-05-13 04.01.02

Exergen: My Peace of Mind


When I received an email from Exergen requesting a possible review and giveaway of their Temporal Artery Thermometer, I couldn’t type my response fast enough.  Not only would I be able to receive an additional thermometer BUT I’d be able to provide you guys with one as well. In June of 2011, my daughter had her first seizure caused by a spike in a fever (febrile seizure). At that time, I was taking her temperature rectally but soon found that with the anxiety that came from the fear of a rise in temperature, I had to add the anxiety of actually taking her temperature.

We rode in an ambulance after her first seizure.  At the hospital, I noticed that they were using the professional version of the temporal artery thermometer. As soon as I had a chance, I picked one up myself. The relief and peace of mind that this thermometer has brought into our lives cannot be explained.

It takes a while for the PTSD to go away after you’ve seen your child not only seize but be unconscious for an interminable amount of time (anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes). Having the Exergen thermometer meant that I could check her temperature regularly, even while sleeping. I didn’t have to disturb her, just one (two or three) swipes of her forehead and I knew whether she was good to go or whether we needed to wake her up for some medication. Not that I needed that many but, it helped calm my nerves to constantly check to make sure she was okay. One swipe is all you normal people would need.

Not only is the thermometer non-invasive but it’s extremely accurate.  It has advanced infrared technology providing maximum ease of use with quick, consistently accurate measurements. Advanced, patented technology measures temperatures with a gentle stroke across the forehead. Who knew?

The best thing? It has been clinically tested for accuracy compared to rectal thermometers and temperature sensors inserted in the heart during course of patient treatment and accepted for use in major hospitals, making it the ideal thermometer for use with newborns, infants, children or adults.

On more than one occasion, I have found the frog princess taking her “tempechore”.  She doesn’t remember the discomfort of the rectal thermometer. All she knows now is that with the swipe of her forehead (in conjunction with the touch of mami’s lips prior to the swipe), we know exactly what her temperature is and can gleam some peace of mind as well as next steps to manage her condition.

I think everyone needs one of these.  And not just for the kids. The adults get sick too (well, not us mamis). This thing is of great use for all in the household (though I haven’t tried it on the dog. Wonder if it would work on him?).

While it was difficult for me to do, I decided to gift the one that was sent to me for review to my cousin (who just had THE most adorable baby boy eva!). As a mami, I can’t imagine a better gift to receive. Plus, I have a perfectly fabulous Exergen in my first aid kit already. Whether your child suffers from febrile seizures or not, I think this makes the top of the “must have’s” list for new mamis.

To that end, I want to give one away! Tell me, what’s the one (or two) things that you think new mamis must have for babies?

If you can't wait til the end of the giveaway, you can get the Exergen for $30.99 on Amazon or check out these coupons and head out to get your own thermometer.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Disclosure: I was provided with a product sample to review.  This testimonial is my own.

Loving You For Two

My dearest frog princess: It has been a while since I've sat down and written you a note (you hear this a lot from me, don't you?). What a roller coaster ride these last few months have been!

Through it all, though, I have you. Your beautiful smile greets me every morning and I feel blessed. You know just when to come up and hug me and your knock knock jokes are sure to make me giggle.

And boy, you are growing like a weed! Not just physically but mentally as well. Do you know that you can now operate my phone? You have these cool apps I've downloaded for you. These days, you can count to 10 in English and en español. And nothing brings me more joy than hearing you play with the alphabet apps and saying "mama, where's the K?" and then when I say "I don't know, where?" you say "there it is!" and press the button.

Your curiosity reminds me of what we lose in childhood. That wonder. That sense that everything is a miracle.

You spiked a fever last night and ever since, your dad and I have been on seizure watch. Your temperature would not get back to normal all day long although you were your normal bubbly self.

But as the day turned into evening, you wanted to be picked up and rocked and I knew we were in trouble. I saw that the light in your eyes was a little dimmed and I started to worry. It's funny because I prayed that you wouldn't seize. And God answered our prayers. Of course we didn't pray that you wouldn't experience the postictal period (which is basically when you go unconscious for anywhere between 15-30 minutes after a seizure). That happened around 6:25. And there's nothing like holding you and watching you fade not knowing what is wrong.

Suffice it to say, today has been a long day. But, by the end of the night, you were singing and dancing (your dad has video) and back to your usual antics. I'll be taking you in to the doctor tomorrow to see what's up with the reason behind your fever.

I missed mami a lot today. Not like I miss her less on some days. Do you know that when I'm putting you down to bed and we are lying on our pillows looking at each other in the dim glow of the nightlight, all I can see is her face? You look so much like her. Especially when you put your hands on my face and ask me if I'm happy with a big smile on your face.

Tonight when I was rocking you to sleep the thought hit me that you are missing out on some extra special love. How will you ever know how much she adored you? How will you ever get spoiled like only she could have? Who will you run to and hide behind when you do something that upsets me? Who will give you that kind of love?

I am trying hard to love you for two. On days like this, I feel like there is not enough love in my heart because as a mother, your heart bursts at the seams with love for your child. But I cannot imagine what happens to the heart once your child has a baby of their own. I miss her, baby girl. And I miss that you are missing her and don't even know it.

You are well aware of who she is. Her picture is everywhere. Her essence in every corner of this house. I pray that I can give you enough love for the both of us. And that my heart doesn't break in the process of trying to handle an insurmountable amount of love while at the same time trying to handle this insurmountable amount of grief.

I love you, from here to the sun and back (times infinity).

oxoxox, Your Mami

Febrile Seizures: How PTSD Gives You Perspective

Earlier this week I had an episode of PTSD. The frog princess was looking for something under the couch (probably a bouncy ball) and she was making the normal sounds that someone stretching to grab something would make.  To me, in the open office, it sounded suspiciously like the sounds a convulsing child might make.  I ran over to her and then tried to calm myself down so that she wouldn't think anything was wrong.  She has been taught that when I call to her she is to respond though I'm sure she doesn't understand why (yes mama, she says and "homing" which is her way of saying coming). Although she wasn't sick and didn't have a fever when this happened, this is what I deal with now.  I probably started to think about it since it was cool last week and you never know when the cold/flu season is going to hit big.  The last couple of days she's been finicky about eating which is not out of the ordinary for a toddler.  But this afternoon when she woke from her nap I held her in a close hug and, using the best thermometer ever to exist, I kissed her forehead and knew.  Dammit! See, the frog princess was diagnosed with simple febrile seizures after her first in June and a follow up at the end of July.  We had some decisions to make about testing and felt good about our choice.  That being said, I can't wait for her 5th birthday as they say that's the age when they grow out of these seizures.

There are times when the images of her seizing just take a hold of me and it's...I don't know if I have a word for it.  Tonight, I thought about it once again.  I was going to shower and asked my aunt to watch her when I doubled back and calmly explained to her that should she seize, to put her on her side and call to me.  It's surreal when I have to give those instructions. I imagine is just as horrifying to get them.

Her temp was 100.5 when she woke from her nap.  Not too bad but from the research we've done the magic number is sometimes 101.  So we go into overdrive and planning once she gets a fever.  Of course, this is where the medication-taking gets rough.  See, at any other point in time, when the frog princess sees her meds she says "thome" (that's some with a lisp). But let her be sick and she automatically rejects anything from a bottle that looks remotely syrupy.  We've gotten smart and put it in her yogurt but I'm afraid that she caught on to me today.  After a little jostling and negotiating (and perhaps some head holding and flailing) she took her meds.

She's been up and down since then.  At times she was extra cuddly and wanted to lie on me and at times, she urged me to stand up and dance with her.  I set up a little bed on the floor in the family room (because my fear other than her seizing is that she's going to fall on the tile should she seize if I'm not around to catch her).  She made me lie down and go to "sheep" so she could read me a book (it happened to be How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? as it goes with the "t-rex" obsession).

Now I sit here checking her temp every 1/2 hour. About to go sit in the bed where she is probably dreaming of dinosaurs to make sure her temp doesn't spike and to ensure that I don't see that horrible sight I first saw back in June.  I am grateful to be home.  To be slightly paranoid (I think I take her temp at least once a day) and to still feel blessed because she's in great health otherwise, is rarely sick and generally joyful.  Though the seizures are scary as all hell, I couldn't have asked for a better baby.

It might sound crazy but I still feel like the luckiest mami in the world.  Even with the year I've had, my life is filled with blessings and grace beyond measure.  What have you experienced that made you take stock of all the good in your life?

Febrile Seizures: Decisions, Decisions!

It is way past my bedtime.  The clock is running towards 2 a.m. and, here I am, wide awake.  I had a rough bedtime with the frog princess today.  Although she asked to be taken to her crib to sleep, once there, she began to cry.  So hard that, when I went to pick her up, I found a little present in her diaper (she's very thoughtful like that).  I cleaned her up, put her in the bed and, a few minutes later she was fast asleep.  I waited a few more minutes and then attempted to set her in her crib once again.  I was determined to just let her cry it out this time but, the wails tugged at my heart.  A few minutes later, when I walked into her room once again, I found she'd cried so hard in those few minutes that she'd thrown up.  Enter extreme mami guilt here.  I picked her up, cleaned her off and, rocked her to sleep.  This time, I put her in my bed where she stayed for the rest of the night without waking (thank God!). The frog princess is due for her CT scan in the morning.  As I went to crawl into bed with her, it seemed that my heart had other thoughts.  I rose from the comfort of my bed to begin a discussion with The Man.  The opening line was: I don't think I want to get this test done tomorrow.  We talked.  I tell you what, The Man and I have many differences of opinion.  We don't always see eye to eye.  Our breakup is teaching me a lot about what I say and don't say (and how I should get better at opening up though, if you read my blog it might surprise you that I have a problem with that).  The one thing that I can say without question and without reserve is that when it comes to our baby girl, we make an awesome team because our focus is her and her best interest.

The discussion was really around 1. why don't you want the tests done 2. what are the benefits of the test and 3. what are the repercussions of not having the tests done.  We went to our computers and researched.  Here are the facts: 1. The frog princess was diagnosed with Simple Febrile Seizures 2. There's no necessary/consistent treatment plan other than ensuring that when the child is sick, a fever is kept under control 3. There are no promises that it won't happen again 4. Research tells us that the febrile seizures do not cause brain damage 5. Research tells us that the occurrence of epilepsy due to febrile seizures is very small 6. Research tells us that febrile seizures are hereditary and I, suffered from one around 18 months (due to what my mom realized was roseola when Elena was diagnosed with it on her birthday) 7. Research also tells us that though there are some medications out there in the market, the side effects are long lasting and possibly damaging to a child.  More so than whatever effects the seizure might cause.  One site actually said that diazepam could be prescribed to children whose parents suffered from a high level of anxiety due to the child's seizures.  Are you serious?! How about you take a Xanax and call it a day?The appointment with the neurologist on Monday did nothing to ease my heart.  She never even bothered to introduce herself when she stepped into the room.  Because I was busy dealing with the cranky pants, I didn't think much of it (you know how sometimes you get mami vision and all you think of/concern yourself with is the baby).  Thinking about it and talking about it, however, I realized that I hadn't been given an explanation for why we needed all these tests.  Why the EEG? Why the bloodwork and why the CT scan?  My main concern was that we'd tried the EEG once and the CT scan would be a lot more difficult to perform.  How was I going to ask this child to sit still while being restrained.  Also, exactly how was I supposed to keep her from eating for 8 hours before the test.Hours later, after reading, praying and being thankful that things weren't as complicated as they could be, we came to a mutual conclusion.  No tests were going to be performed at this time.  It wasn't easy.  As a parent, you have to make sure that you do everything possible to keep your child safe and healthy.  You also struggle with not wanting to question your decisions later, should something go terribly wrong.  Our research told us that, while many doctors choose to do those tests, we couldn't find a clinical explanation as to why it needed to be performed in our case.

Although I've been thinking about it since climbing back into bed, I think we've made the right decision.  First off, I want to try one of the other pediatric neurologists that I researched.  There's no reason I can't shop around, especially if I am not getting the answers that I believe I deserve.  We will keep a close eye on the frog princess and make everyone aware of the measures that need to be taken should a fever present itself.  Most importantly, we wanted our baby girl to not be put through unnecessary tests, discomfort and possible trauma without concrete and objective explanations.  Decisions will always have to be made as we parent but, ultimately, WE are the ones that need to empower ourselves in the treatment of our children and ourselves.  Doctors know a lot but, only YOU know your child.

After writing this, I found these two links that might be helpful if you're looking for more information on this topic:

AAP's Clinical Practice Guidelines for Simple Febrile Seizures The Neurodiagnostic Evaluation of the Child with a First Simple Febrile Seizure

Fever, Fears and Faith

When I was around the frog princess's age, I had what mami thought was an allergic reaction.  This past year, mami changed her diagnosis to roseola after seeing it in my baby girl.  I had to go into the ER with a fever of 105 degrees. I seized at one point in time. If I'd ask mami about that day on her death bed, she would be able to recall moment by moment, exactly as it happened.  Now I know why...Friday:- 18-month well visit - Baby girl didn't get shots at 12 months because she'd been in the hospital that same week with roseola - Given 2 shots (one was prevnar (for pneumonia) and the other is...<insert complete mami brain moment here>) - Baby girl cries a lot (one shot in each thigh) - I drop her off at #1 caregiver's and give her Tylenol before leaving the house - Frog princess is a little warm but generally plays and goes about her business all day - At work, I'm concerned.  I leave a half hour early to pick her up

- #1 caregiver tells me that she did good

- I feel good - Routine is normal in the evening though I feel a little off about the situation

Saturday: - I pick her up out of the crib and notice that one leg is hot and parts of her body (weird) - I take her temp: 99.5 - I administer Tylenol and watch her disposition - Upon seeing that she was acting normal, I decide to head to sorority meeting - At sorority meeting, the frog princess is a little clingy (but not really) - Frog princess walks around while the meeting is taking place and then proceeds to call for someone named "mom" when she doesn't see said person. I ask her: who is mom and how old are you? - Frog princess changes from "mom" to "ma" which is what I called my mami. Excuse me? How old are you?! - I notice that she is not enthralled with her crackers or her banban (she is obsessed with bananas) - I think nothing of it because she had breakfast just fine - I have to step out several times because she had a lot to say during the meeting.  She also wanted to march and was getting mad that no one was "following" her - By lunchtime, though, she didn't want to try anything on my plate which is not like her - I grab her and my things and head to the car. I notice her leg is hot again - As soon as I get home, I take her temperature. Enter 103.2 degrees here - I give her Tylenol - I run her a warm bath (not cold because I know that's not good for kids) - I sit next to the tub as she plays with her Yo Gabba Gabba tub toys - I call my sorority sister to catch up because I didn't get a chance to earlier - I run the washcloth over my baby while she plays - She splashes happily and I'm glad she starts to feel cooler while she's in there - My sweet princess suddenly and without warning falls back in the tub and I hear gurgling sounds - Insert crazy ass freakout moment here - Headphones fly out of my head as I yell Oh my God she's having a seizure - What I see: eyes rolled back, hands up by her chest with fists up, something going on with her mouth, jerking - What I feel: you have GOT TO BE F***ING KIDDING ME?! - I never have enough water in the tub for her to be submerged in and for that I am now grateful - I don't even remember her hitting the tub because I caught her while she was on her way back - I pull her out all the while screaming something though I have no clue what that was - I try to dial 9-11 on the phone but somehow my phone decides it wants to act an ass at this precise moment (later on The Man tells me that if any water fell on the screen the phone logs it as pressure and doesn't respond) - I scoop my baby, still seizing, into my arms and run the hell out of the front door - I yell for help and think to run next door - I actually rang the damn doorbell! While waiting for the door to be open, I believe that I yelled some more, I can't remember. What I do know is that I looked down and her lips were turning blue - The door opens and my FANTASTIC neighbors immediately jump into action by calling 9-11 - What I remember: he didn't try to take her from me or get me to release my daughter. It was like he knew just what I needed while his wife was on the phone - I fell to my knees and prayed and remember apologizing to my neighbor for disturbing them (really?!) - Her seizure stops and I put her on the floor ready to give her CPR but after the seizure stopped, she started breathing again though she's unconscious - What I remember: their sweet son bringing me a towel for my baby girl and him being so gentle with making sure the towel was placed just right under her - My frog princess lies limp on the ground and I think, how am I going to tell The Man? He was working - I let my neighbor sit with her while I ran to the house to throw my jeans back on (I was in shorts). My neighbor had tried to call The Man and couldn't get him. When I get in the house and pick up my phone, I instinctively dial him. He answers. Enter insane mami breakdown here - Baby girl wakes up when she starts being prodded by strangers - I run back home to get her jammies, Clifford and her blanket - Meanwhile someone grabs her carseat from my truck because apparently she can't ride in an ambulance without one (did you know that?) - In the ambulance, she cries because she wants me to hold her. For the first time EVER, I want her to cry because it means she's okay - Josh, the EMT, and I make jokes about how he's the bad man because she can't stand for him to mess with.  I cry as I call my sister, my father, my brother and my sorority sister who I was on the phone with (by the way, she met me at the hospital for which I have insufficient words of gratitude) - Blood pressure is good. Oxygen is good.  Blood sugar is good - Meanwhile, the neighbors have told The Man what hospital we're going to.  He makes it there in 10 minutes (it should've taken him at least a half hour if not longer. If things felt surreal for me, I cannot imagine how he felt being so far from us) - At the hospital we are told that seizures are fairly common especially because she's at risk since there's a "family history" of it - Baby girl is tired from the crying and probably from the seizure.  She falls asleep in my arms as she did when she gained the nickname of frog princess.  The Man and I share tears in the quiet of the cool ER rooms (you should check out Florida Hospital, they have a kid's ER that's fantastic!) - Dr. Bowen, the calmest, coolest soul of a doctor I have ever run into treats us again. Having spent way too much time in ER's, with doctors, and in offices, I can tell you that having someone this awesome is a true blessing! - Their advocates come in and give her a teddy bear, and she wants nothing to do with them but they smile and know exactly what she (and you) are going through - Dad comes by.  I choke up because at one point in time, as I'm telling The Man that dad is on the way I slip and say mom and dad - A few hours later we are discharged and I am so grateful to God for the many blessings He's given me

- Diagnosis: Febrile seizures

The vaccines caused the fever, the fever caused the seizure. My baby still has a low grade fever.  Oh and by the way, she's got 4 teeth coming in as well.  I'm sitting here typing this with a load of work to take care of and at the same time, eternally grateful for the kind words my boss spoke to me tonight.  I should be asleep as I haven't slept well in 2 days.  I am continually checking up on her.  She had a low grade fever at bed time and though I administered a fever reducer, I worry.  Funny thing is, my first instinct is to bring her into bed with me. But, I have to be the only mami whose kid DOES NOT want to sleep in her bed! But, that's my girl and I respect her for that.

I pray that I never see another seizure.  I pray that, like me, she never has another convulsion in her life.  In the meantime, I have a certain faith that she's going to be just fine.