Regression strikes - then recedes

There are several reasons for my silence, a major one being C.'s disappointing performances in both walking and swimming. It's painful to describe such depressing developments while in the grip of them.

Asleep in the hydrotherapy pool

Then as suddenly and inexplicably as her walking regressed, it returned to normal - well, normal for C., that is. She resumed straightening her left leg in between steps and independently step

ping with her right leg. (Stepping with her left one is still a rarity so I push it forward).

The swimming regression was even more alarming. 

In two consecutive hydrotherapy sessions, she fell asleep the minute she entered the pool. It was such a deep sleep that no amount of interference from the therapist, E., her caregiver or me could rouse her. 

We nudged her, spoke to her, tried to give her drinks, poured cool water all over her face and neck, all to no avail. The first time I panicked and was on the verge of racing her to the ER.

That first episode passed abruptly five minutes before the end of her session. She even floated nicely until leaving the water. The following week, though, she didn't wake up until she was in the shower.

The temperature in and around the pool was higher than usual because the room's heating wasn't functioning properly. But that didn't explain the previous week's fiasco when the room temperature was normal. Nor the fact that nobody else fell asleep there either week. 

Has anybody ever had this bizarre reaction to a therapy pool?

C getting OT at home

I had resigned myself to the possibility that C.'s hydro days were over and resolved to try just one more session today before cancelling her upcoming ones.


Well, lo and behold, will miracles never cease, Hallelujah and all the rest - C. decided to float and kick today! More impressively than ever.

The icing on the cake was a productive OT session yesterday. (We've had a couple of wasted ones thanks to seizures or post seizure exhaustion). 

So this time our young, bright therapist watched C. feed herself for the first time. And she threw out this creative idea: instead of our holding her wrist in between spoonfuls as we do, she advised us to just fill the spoon avoiding any contact with C.'s hand. 

If she doesn't, then put the spoon in her mouth independently; we are to gently tap the back of her hand. The goal is to progress to a mere verbal reminder. She stressed how important it is to help C. maintain this skill. 

Of course, I didn't need that reminder. Each of C.'s tiny skills C. is priceless.