Dreaded parenting moment: there is something wrong with your kid and you don’t know what it is.
Two weeks ago, I was at work when my phone erupted with a series of texts. My twelve-year-old son, “Jack,” was using a friend’s phone to text me from that friend’s house, where he and my nine-year-old daughter, “Emmie,” were spending part of the day. Emmie had had a seizure, and I needed to come to the house right away.
There followed a stay in the emergency room, a CT scan, an EKG, a blood draw, some meds and a very, very long string of questions. Since then, we have been to and set up consults with pediatric cardiology and pediatric neurology. More tests. A finding, but no answer. Answers to questions, but no definitive findings. No comprehensive theories, but lots of possibilities. It might be Nothing. There’s a good chance it’s Something.
For the first time, we faced the emptiness of not being able to answer any of the questions asked of us regarding our daughter’s family history in a situation where such information could provide real assistance to the physicians treating her. Is there a family history of epilepsy? What about heart defects or disease? Our daughter is adopted from South Korea, and, like so many adoptees, owns a history that is unknowable even to her.