The EEG

The prep for an EEG is a little different than an MRI.  Instead of fasting for twelve hours, you have to be sleep deprived, so they can encounter a sleep cycle within their study.  The first time we had this completed (at 18 months when we suspected seizure activity), they never explained this to us, so he was fully awake.  It was a painless procedure back then, him lying on a table, watching a little TV show while they placed the electrodes all over his head.

Such a different scenario this time around.  We were instructed to put Hunter to bed no earlier than 10 or 10:30 PM, so he would be plenty cranky, I mean tired, for the EEG.  I woke him this morning about 6:45 and he was super groggy, so I was encouraged that we would get an accurate study. 

We arrived shortly before 8 and they called us back within a few minutes to start the placement of the electrodes.   For a clear definition, Wikipedia listed the following: Electroencephalography (EEG) is the recording of electrical activity along the scalp. EEG measures voltage fluctuations resulting from ionic current flows within the neurons of the brain.^[2] In clinical contexts, EEG refers to the recording of the brain's spontaneous electrical activity over a short period of time, usually 20–40 minutes, as recorded from multiple electrodes placed on the scalp. Diagnostic applications generally focus on the spectral content of EEG, that is, the type of neural oscillations that can be observed in EEG signals. In neurology, the main diagnostic application of EEG is in the case of epilepsy, as epileptic activity can create clear abnormalities on a standard EEG study.



Sad little face



We walked into the tiny room where they had a "papoose," as the nurse called it, lying on the table.  More like a straight jacket, if you will.  I had to place him, kicking and crying on the table, while the two nurses strapped him up, neck to feet with this large, blue, Velcro apparatus.  I couldn't imagine being strapped in like that myself, and for a child who doesn't like to even wear pants on his legs, this was traumatic.  He cried the entire time they placed all thirty+ electrodes on his scalp, after measuring the exact locations and marking it with a red pencil.  Then they wrapped his head with gauze and attempted to begin the test.  He was still very upset, crying, "Mommy!  Get.this.thing.OFF of me!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I want to get out!"  He calmed a bit with my reassuring and asked to see what was on his head.  I took a picture for him so he could see it, thinking it would help him to know exactly what was happening.  He stopped crying when he saw the picture, but started again as he remembered his hands and legs were not free to move. 

And that is how we spent the next forty-five of the longest minutes of my life.  A mixture of screaming, yawning with exhaustion, attempting to sit up and free himself from the backboard with encompassing velcro straps, and relentless crying.  I felt so guilty and helpless sitting there, trying to hold his tiny little fingers that were sticking out of the straps, and promising him that I would be there the whole time...but how can it be reassuring when one of the people you love the most is watching you lie in misery?  And not doing a thing about it? 



Its moments like these that you need to trust that you are doing the best for your child.  You hope that there is a master plan for putting your child through semi-traumatic events that make you feel like you want to give up, grab your kid, and walk out the door.  I do not like to poke and prod Hunter more than I think is medically necessary, and we put our faith in the neurologist that both the MRI and the EEG needed to be completed.  The nurse finally re-entered the room to end the EEG, and began to take the electrodes off of his head, which in itself was painful.  His full head of hair kept getting pulled as the tape and goo were taken off...and he was still strapped in the papoose.  She finally released the straps and I grabbed him and held him so tightly I thought my arms would fall off.   The trains were not working today at the hospital, so we looked at the beautiful butterfly display and headed to the parking structure.

Holding his pinwheel from the nurses



We had a little extra time before we had to get to my PT appointment, so I asked Hunter where he would like to go.  I complied with his wish and broke cardinal rule number one of parenting:  NEVER take a sleep-deprived child to Toys 'R Us.  What a disaster. He not only grabbed every McQueen item in the store, including a McQueen tambourine, a McQueen thermos, a Disney Apples to Apples game with a tiny picture of McQueen on it, and basically the entire aisle of McQueen cars, but he melted down and tantrumed for all to witness.  I would venture to say we were either the most talked about or the most eyeballed pair in the store for the day, or maybe even the week.  Fun times.



We should know the results of the EEG within the next couple of days...hoping tomorrow before the weekend.  He did have a few drowsy moments within the study, but I don't know if they were enough to truly make it a concrete sample of his brain activity.  I don't know that I could repeat that procedure again, so I am praying that they deem it a valid test and call me with normal results.  Love Children's Hospital, but don't care to see it again for a good amount of time.