I found that little nugget on Pinterest and thought I should totally make a Tee outta it. How many times have I witnessed him seizure-y…but being asked to complete a task? Too many. And it’s exactly what Trevy would say if he could tell you he was having a seizure.
Gimme a sec here…
Actually, now that I think about it - he does say it. You just have to be fluent in Trevy.
He tells you with his eyes. There is no missing the confused expression on his face.
He tells you with his verbal responses. They are slurred and difficult to produce.
He tells you with his mouth. Which is tight and crooked. Often locked in a weird (bordering on creepy) grin.
He tells you with his lips. Which are smacking together like he’s tasting something. And maybe he is. Maybe seizures have a flavor.
He tells you with his hands. As they rub rub rub together. In a repetitive motion. Or pick pick pick at something. Over and over again.
Sometimes he tells with his protesting. Oh how my heart wrenches when he runs to me with that look of absolute fear on his face and unable to speak his concerns, fusses them out instead.
His body doesn’t always shout “Hey, I’m seizing over here!” Mostly, it whispers with subtle little jerkings or movements that just don’t look quite right. Often so quick that even the most seizure spotting pros might miss. Plus, any or all of the above.
He tells you with his body when it’s over. Which craves the comfort of cuddles.
Sometimes I wish there was a seizure-dar that bleeped to the world when he’s seizing. Sometimes it’s a blessing to retreat to a place that only he, I and a handful of others know exists. And let the rest of the universe bumble on it’s merry way. But mostly…I wish I were still blissfully seizure unaware.