Christina's story: No Fantasy Football for us

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

No Fantasy Football for us

I’m going on record right now. You guys are the first to hear it. There shall be no fantasy football for the Grahls.

I got far far far too addicted to fantasy baseball this summer. PJ’s team, which is only PJ’s team in name and slightly in spirit, became an almost daily distraction for me, as I managed its way to the top of the Peace League at ESPN sports. Whoo hooo. I can stand up tall in the council of the elders and declare that I have arrived. Yeah baby.

So anyway, no fantasy football. It’s rehab time. We like football enough anyway without having to have the lure of a fantasy team to keep us hooked. Molly, PJ and I all dig football (how odd is that?) And we can try to outguess the newspaper prognosticators. That’ll be our pigskin pasttime this fall.

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My story

Hello, my name is Christina. I am a five-year-old little girl who suffers from epilepsy. When I was a few months old, I began having strange tonic extensions that eventually were diagnosed as seizures. I would have them several times a day.

Eventually, they developed into spasms, clusters of seizures that made me jerk and cry like someone had passed an electric current through my body. Those were no fun at all. They were hard for mom and dad to watch. I started taking all kinds of medicines, as my mom and dad and their doctors tried to get my seizures under control.

When I was only a few months old, it also became apparent I suffered from some kind of genetic disorder. I was developmentally delayed. They began all kinds of tests, and initially they thought I had mitochondrial disease. My dad wasn't sure I would live to be two years old. (read his poem to me.) That was very hard. I didn't learn to crawl, didn't learn to sit, didn't learn to walk.

But after more tests, they eventually decided I probably didn't have that disease. They still don't know what is wrong with my genetic makeup. Maybe they never will. When I was 18 months old and my spasms had become pretty bad, my mom and dad began me on a three month steroid treatment, ACTH. Dad had to give me shots in the thigh every night and I had to drop out of day care for awhile. But I was a brave little trooper and hardly cried at all. The treatment worked, and I was seizure free for awhile.

Slowly, the seizures came back, though not as bad as before. My mom and dad and doctors did their best to take care of me. They treated me like the special little gift from God I am. They adjusted my medicines, tried new medicines, made lots of doctor visits, and kept trying to nourish my small little body on puried food as I've never learned to chew whole food. This is what my seizures looked like then.

When I turned four, my mom and dad began me on this new diet, the Ketogenic diet. It was kinda gross at first, lots of mayonaise and butter and stuff. But dad liked it because everything was calculated out by a real dietician and he could finally rest assured I was getting what I needed. I responded well to the diet. I started gaining weight. And after a few months, began another long seizure-free spell.

A few months ago, my seizures began creeping back. They still are not as bad as those early infantile spasms, but they have been getting stronger. My mom and dad and doctors are doing what they can to adjust the diet, consider medicine ratios, and all that.

I also get lots of good therapy. Beginning when I was very little, I had many friends come and visit me through Early Intervention, trying to teach me to prop, use my hands and arms, side sit, put weight on my feet, use my vision, and all sorts of fun stuff. When I turned three, I began going to the Special Education District of Lake County. There I met other special little angels like me. I have wonderful teachers! They are so sweet and patient.

This is my place to share my special story, and triumph in my little accomplishments. Like learning to sit, my new trick! Since I can't talk let alone write, my dad is helping me out as my ghost writer. (He's a swell dad, or dadooooo as I often call him. He doesn't think I'm saying actual words, but I do sometimes)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy these modest posts. Maybe the stories here can be a blessing and help other families. At the very least, they can be a reminder that we need to thank God for the little things in life, and the mercies he gives us each day.

Christina's story

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

No Fantasy Football for us

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