Epilepsy Awareness Month: Why the Decline?

Robert has had Epilepsy since he was a child and uncontrolled seizures his entire life but he wasn’t always in a wheelchair. He was an active kid (“hyperactive” was actually the label put on him). Robert had numerous seizures which made him fall but didn’t start wearing a helmet until his twenties. 

I don’t know why.

Looking back, the kid should have not only worn a helmet but been in bubble wrap.

Robert’s injuries were extensive: numerous concussions from falling on concrete, a broken shoulder due to a fall, a broken jaw at one point, and even severely burned his arm when he fell against a hot lamp bulb when he was alone. He miraculously survived a drowning when he had a seizure while swimming and I vaguely remember him getting hit by a car but the details are fuzzy on that one. 

I mean, seriously. We should have looked into the bubble wrap option. 

Robert was in his early forties and living with his companion, Judy, when we determined it was too unsafe for him to live alone. (Caregivers question themselves all the time about whether we should have stepped in earlier than we did. I am no exception but I stepped in when I did and, as my friend Kathy says, it was just the right time.)

Robert’s neighbor told Other Brother (Rich) and I that Robert was falling more than usual. There were some other things happening too and he ended up in the hospital and then a Skilled Nursing Facility for a while. That’s when we decided he couldn’t go back to his house and I took over his care. 

Robert was still walking at this point but eventually needed a walker because he wasn’t very steady on his feet. 

After he moved in with me and Richard, it was clear that Robert needed to wear briefs all the time. He couldn’t make it to the bathroom on time through no fault of his own. He didn’t move that fast but also his brain wasn’t telling him to get to the bathroom as quickly as it used to. 

The mobility decline snuck up on us until one day Robert couldn’t move his legs. He just couldn’t get them to move. He tried. I could really see him thinking about it but his legs (particularly the right one) wouldn’t budge. 

Robert landed in the hospital since this was such a dramatic change and he was there for a couple of weeks while they tried to figure out what was going on. 

The neurologists thought he possibly had Cervical Disc Disease with Myelopathy. Eventually, however, his wonderful neurologist that specializes in movement disorders said he had Parkinsonism (not Parkinson’s disease but, from a very basic understanding, it is just the movement disorder part of Parkinson’s). She put him on Sinemet which did help his movement. She also thought his decline could be due to CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy) which is a degenerative brain disorder caused by repeated concussions. 

It can’t be definitively diagnosed, though, until an autopsy is done. 

Robert was always one to sign up for various studies whether it was for a new anti-seizure medication, surgery or medical device. He wanted to help others but also wanted his seizures to stop so he always signed up for trials. It kind of drove our dad crazy but he kept signing up for these things. Robert even tested the Deep Brain Stimulator before the FDA approved it for use in Epilepsy (it was actually first approved for use in Parkinson’s Disease). The DBS trial was showing that it helped reduce his seizures but, unfortunately, it became terribly infected and he had to have it removed. 

Several years later, once the DBS was officially approved, he was able to have it implanted again and it was definitely helping with his seizures. 

Given the suspicion of CTE and Robert’s willingness to participate in scientific trials it really was a no brainer (sorry, pun intended!) to have Robert’s brain autopsied after he died. 

I wasn’t sure how to go about this but I had read about Dr. Bennet Omalu who first discovered CTE in football players. I knew he had connections to UCDMC where Robert was hospitalized so after Robert died I looked up his website and contacted him. He responded within just a few hours and said his assistant would contact me. She did and, after talking to Richard and Rich we made the decision to have Dr. Omalu autopsy Robert’s brain. 

They made it super easy – they would get Robert from the hospital, retrieve his brain and then transport him to the funeral home. Initially, we chose a funeral home a few hours away because it is where our parents are buried but once we found out the cost of the burial (yikes!), we decided cremation would be the way to go and we could go with a funeral home in our area. Richard’s family had used the local option for many years and they were family owned so it was a easy choice. 

I let Dr. Omalu’s office know about the change only to find out Robert was already on his way to the original funeral home! There was some miscommunication with this funeral home who apparently had one department who knew we had declined their services but the message hadn’t made it to another department. Robert’s driver was literally ten minutes away before getting the message that he had to turn around and bring Robert back. 

Rich and I joked that Robert had a field trip to see our parents’ graves one last time. I’m certain he enjoyed it! 

The results of the autopsy won’t be available for several more months but it will be interesting to get the results. Did Robert have CTE or was his decline due to some other neurodegenerative disease? Or was it all because of the lifelong, uncontrolled seizures? 

I told his neurologists what we were doing and that I would send them the results. They were very grateful and told me how generous it was to do the autopsy.

I felt we really didn’t have any other choice. I wanted to honor Robert’s mission to educate others about Epilepsy and I wanted to find answers that might help others who have had years and years of uncontrolled seizures.  

I am grateful to Robert for this one last gift. 

Major Changes

I’ve been working on this post for a couple of weeks. It is very hard for me to write and might be hard for you to read. 

We have made the difficult decision to find a facility for Robert. 

Ugh. See? That is a hard sentence to write! I hope it wasn’t too hard for you to read. 

Robert has lived with us for more than nine years. For several years before that I managed his care while he was in Skilled Nursery Facilities, hospitals, Assisted Living and a Residential Care Facility. 

How did we come to this decision? Why now? 

We first considered hiring another caregiver. We had a caregiver before the pandemic and Robert loved her. He also went to a Day Program five days a week. Both Evelyn and the Day Program were very helpful. Then the pandemic hit and we hunkered down. His Day Program switched to a virtual program and his caregiver hung up her caregiving hat. I really don’t think a new caregiver could give us as much help as what Robert needs. (Not to mention, much of his needs are through the night and I can’t have a live-in caregiver.) 

I haven’t posted much so this might be a shock to people who don’t see us every day. Heck, the decline has even been difficult for us to see and we are with him every day. 

My daughter has been gently telling me for a while now that it is probably time to think about another living situation for him. She sees how physically demanding it is on Richard and I and she worries about our health. Even Robert’s physical therapist knows how much we do and ends up giving me tips and exercises at Robert’s therapy sessions so I don’t hurt my back when moving him. His neurologist even said we might want to start looking for a place for him before it becomes an emergency situation. 

Hmm. I hear all of them saying something but I can’t quite put my finger on it. 

Not surprisingly, it has been difficult for me and Richard to admit there has been such a dramatic decline. 

Since moving in with us, Robert has gone from using a walker on his own to needing both me and Richard to transfer him from his wheelchair to the bed. He can walk about ten steps using his walker but only with one of us behind him, practically holding him up and definitely keeping him balanced. 

Robert’s swallow disorder has caused numerous bouts of aspiration pneumonia which land him in the hospital. A related and equally upsetting change: Robert can no longer have his beloved Rocky Road ice cream! Those bits of marshmallow and nutty goodness make him choke so it’s just plain chocolate now.

In nine years, Robert has gone from mostly dressing himself with my supervision and encouragement to me bathing and dressing him. 

Robert’s short-term memory has become non-existent. He will ask how we’re doing dozens of times during the day, even if we just left the room for a minute and returned. It’s groundhog day on repeat throughout the day. 

He loves to look at pictures which we have throughout the house but he needs reminding who everyone is and sometimes doesn’t make the connection that Richard and I are the same people in the photos. 

Robert loves his game shows and talks to Steve Harvey likes he’s his best friend but we have to be careful not to watch any of our favorite crime shows around him. If we do watch something with a disturbing scene we have to reassure Robert that it is not real. 

We try to stick to game shows.  

Meals take longer and longer. (I’m talking hours.) Robert is easily distracted by crumbs or folding his napkin just right. I recently learned this is called perseveration. You can see it in action here. 

Sleeping through the night is hit or miss now. We started using melatonin (at the suggestion of his doctor) which helps some. He still sometimes wakes up at 2:00 a.m., wide awake and asking if it is time to get up. 

He doesn’t make the best decisions. I used to be able to leave him alone in the bathroom until I caught him trying to pull up his pants and stand up by himself (he can’t do that without falling so that is a disaster waiting to happen.). 

Robert went from manageable urinary incontinence to occasional bowel incontinence to trying to stop himself from doing either once he’s in bed. He started to put tissues down his brief to stop urinating or having a bowel movement. I placed the tissues out of reach. He then just used his hands to stop urinating and to take the poop out of his brief. (Sorry for the graphic details but caregiving is messy and I don’t want other caregivers to feel alone if they’re dealing with the same situation.)

I immediately ordered onsie pajamas that zipped up in the back. There’s no way he could get the pjs off or his hands down his brief. I paid an exorbitant fee for overnight shipping but this was not a situation that was safe or healthy for him or us. 

The onsie works but, unfortunately, they make him so hot! After some research, I tried a different method to keep him clean which involves putting a folded sheet across him and tucking it in under the mattress so he can’t get to the brief. It seemed like a good idea until I saw him on the camera easily maneuver around that little hack. 

Back zipper onsie it is.  

I have tried to stay one step ahead of his decline but it is accelerating at a rate I can no longer keep up with. 

There’s been a decline. I mean, a dramatic decline in movement, cognition, memory and impulse control. All of it. 

And he is not going to improve. This is his neurodegenerative process due to his numerous concussions, uncontrolled seizures, brain surgeries and medications. 

What is hard for me about this decision is that he is not difficult to care for every minute of every day. He is still able to have conversations although his mumbling is much more prevalent. He is laughing at a game show as I type this. He is safe in his wheelchair, eating a snack and drinking his water while doing his puzzle book and watching whatever game show Richard put on. Taz walks by to go outside and Robert introduces himself as Robert Allen Wright then proceeds to spell it out for him. Robert pets him and tells him he loves him very, very much and asks how he is doing today. Sure, he seems to expect Taz to answer him but he doesn’t get upset when Taz stays silent. 

Because I am who I am, I just keep plowing through and taking care of him while not realizing or seeing his dramatic decline. That’s what I do. I see a problem, work a problem and get through the problem. (And deny the problem if I’m being honest.) 

I always had a vision of how my caregiving journey would end. Richard and I would care for Robert – in our home – and he would continue to end up in the hospital with aspiration pneumonia but one time he wouldn’t make it. I would be with him at the end just as I was for our mom and then, years later, for our dad. I am not trying to be morbid and I didn’t know exactly when this would happen but it is what I prepared myself for. With Robert’s health issues and numerous hospitalizations for pneumonia and close calls with sepsis, I thought this was a pretty good idea of how things were going to go. 

I like to plan and prepare. I should be an honorary Boy Scout. 

On the other hand, we all joked that he would outlive us all because, well, he’s Robert. 

Funny, though, how these “plans” for the future don’t always follow the script in our heads. 

So the script has to change. I don’t anticipate being able to find a suitable place for Robert until after the first of the year but I am starting the search. I have contacted his Regional Center but that is a slow process. 

Our caregiving will not end but it will take on a new direction. Richard and I will still oversee his care and make sure his needs are met and he is happy. I have a feeling Robert will bring joy to his caregivers just as he does to us and all of you.

I hope you understand our decision. 

Connecting all the Pieces

I was recently asked by a friend how Robert’s pulmonary issues are connected to his seizures.

I thought this was a terrific question and one I have been trying to understand ever since his pneumonias started showing up a couple of years ago.

But first, I had to sing “The knee bone is connected to the thigh bone, the thigh bone is connected to the hip bone, the hip bone is connected to . . .” You get the idea.

I couldn’t help myself.

That is the million dollar question. How are the seizures related to his proclivity to develop pneumonia at the drop of a hat?

Robert’s pneumonias have always been classified as aspiration pneumonia. Sometimes, the pneumonia doesn’t even show up on the x-ray which confuses the heck out of the ER personnel. However, a doctor once told me that it is not always possible to diagnose pneumonia by x-ray – it is diagnosed through symptoms.

Robert has the symptoms every time and we are well aware of those symptoms (cough, fever, high pulse, low blood pressure, reduced mobility and “brain fog”).  In Robert’s case, sepsis is usually an unwelcome companion with his pneumonia (and no matter how quickly we recognize the pneumonia, the sepsis sneaks in there).

The pieces are starting to come together with each new specialist Robert sees.  A year ago during one of the hospitalizations, Robert saw an ENT and was diagnosed with dysphagia (a swallowing disorder) which was thought to be causing his aspiration pneumonias.

Great! He was put on a modified diet (called either “chopped” or “mechanical soft”) and thickener was added to all of his drinks.

Two months later he was hospitalized again with pneumonia so this wasn’t the only piece of the puzzle.

Earlier this year, Robert’s pulmonary doctor did a couple of scans of Robert’s lungs and concluded that his lung muscles were weak and there really wasn’t much more to do other than try to manage the symptoms before Robert needed hospitalization. He explained that the lung muscles were weakening much like Robert’s leg muscles and other muscles were weakening and it would just be a matter of time before he couldn’t recover from one of his pneumonias.

I appreciated his frankness and the explanation of what was happening. Since then, Robert developed his typical pneumonia symptoms five times (that’s just this year) and the pulmonary doctor put him on antibiotics each time and we were able to keep him home while he recovered.

In June, however, Robert’s mobility was really taking a hit.  His leg muscles were getting exceptionally weak. He could no longer use a walker and we had to use the wheelchair 100% of the time.

I still didn’t know what was causing this muscle weakness and the decline. The decline seemed to be so rapid that it was head-spinning. It was all my husband and I could do to try to keep up with Robert’s increasing needs.  

Finally, the neurologist told us to go to the hospital.  They weren’t sure what was going on either but suspected a neck compression on the nerve in his spinal column (which would really suck). He needed to be in the hospital to investigate further.

We were fortunate that the neurologist on staff during Robert’s hospital stay was a specialist in movement disorders.  She was easy to talk to but exceptionally brilliant. Robert couldn’t have been in better hands.

She determined that Robert did have a neck compression but it wasn’t severe enough to cause him to lose his mobility. Instead, she diagnosed him with Cumulative Traumatic Encephameylopathy and Parkinsonism and started him on a new medication (Sinemet) which helps manage the symptoms. Combined with physical therapy, Robert’s mobility returned to a level I hadn’t seen in months.  It was such a relief.

I had a question about Parkinsonism which the neurologist answered at Robert’s most recent neurology appointment: it is different than Parkinson’s disease. Parkinsonism is just the symptoms of Parkinson’s disease and not the disease itself.  Parkinsonism can cause muscle weakness (including the lungs), movement disorder (Robert’s muscles were weak but they were rigid), tremors and swallow difficulties.

Things were starting to make sense.

From what I understand from the neurologist, the CTEM and Parkinsonism are caused from brain trauma Robert sustained due to a lifetime of uncontrolled seizures, two brain surgeries and dozens of concussions (caused from falling during a seizure).

This does make more and more sense to me. I think of Muhammad Ali who developed Parkinson’s syndrome due to being bashed in the head multiple times during his boxing career.

The brain can only take so much trauma.

Robert sees many specialists (three neurologists, a pulmonary specialist and not just an ENT but an Otolaryngologist for his swallow disorder) - and don’t ask me to pronounce that type of doctor!

It seems recommendations for treatment and piecing together the puzzle of his illnesses is pretty fluid. Prescriptions change, medication dosage changes, even his diet recommendations change (Robert no longer needs thickener as the doctor thinks that makes swallowing more difficult for him). 

Richard and I just manage the best we can and help Robert understand what is going on with him as much as we can.

We know that Robert’s body doesn't handle illness as well as the rest of us because of the compromised brain function which ends up affecting his mobility and creating sort of a "brain fog." He forgets words, has trouble telling us what he wants to say and has a weaker grip on his pen so has trouble with his word search books. He gets drowsy and slow and the ability to walk becomes a luxury until he recovers. For the same reason, it also takes him a lot longer to recover from any sort of illness.

He is sick again now and on antibiotics. He has trouble walking, is having breathing difficulties and has his brain fog. I am monitoring his vitals closely in case there is an indication he needs to be hospitalized.  

That's my understanding of the inter-related workings of his issues. 

Epilepsy with uncontrolled seizures to brain trauma to Parkinsonism and CTEM to pulmonary problems, dysphagia and mobility issues. 

I may not have all the pieces or understand all of what is happening but the idea that everything that is going on is related and is really ultimately caused by his uncontrolled seizures renews my advocacy to spread awareness about epilepsy.

There is not a lot of research out there about the effects of epilepsy on adults with uncontrolled seizures.  However, I don’t need to learn what happens by reading about it.  We’re living it and I would love nothing more than to stop epilepsy in its tracks.

(Obviously, not everyone will have the same experience as Robert so it would be nice to have more research about the effects of uncontrolled seizures.)

Please help me spread awareness about epilepsy and, if you’re so inclined, check out a few epilepsy organizations that do terrific work researching epilepsy and educating people about it:

CURE Epilepsy

The Epilepsy Foundation

Robert is Back Home!

After nearly two weeks in the hospital and 48 days in a Skilled Nursing facility, Robert is home!

Packing up to leave the SNF

For weeks I wondered if he would be able to come home or even if I could continue to care for him at home.  By the time he went into the hospital on July 1, he couldn’t walk. Heck, he couldn’t even transfer from a wheelchair to the bed.  We were dressing him, cleaning him, brushing his teeth and dealing with days of excessive sleepiness and grogginess.  Not to mention, his extreme crankiness (and mine!). 

I didn’t think I would see the old Robert again and I certainly didn’t think he would walk again. I even came to the realization that continuing to care for him at home was not in the best interest of anyone. (That was a really tough realization and I will write about that more in depth soon.)

Robert started a new medication called Sinemet while he was in the hospital. It is supposed to help with Parkinsonism which is one of his new diagnoses. The goal was to also get Physical and Occupational Therapy while in the SNF.  Upon discharge from the hospital, the goal was to bring him home.

A lofty goal considering he had to be discharged using a gurney because he couldn’t transfer from the bed to a wheelchair.

Robert's last day in the SNF - Excited to come home!

Once settled into the SNF, Robert loved being served meals in bed and watching television. However, he was irritated with the physical therapy staff – at first.  They were making him do things that hurt his muscles or (worse) stopped him in mid-routine of brushing his hair for the third time or shaving for the fifth time. (Some people have trouble getting their caree to bathe or do their own personal grooming. I have the opposite problem – Robert could spend hours on personal grooming if I let him!)

The physical therapy team persisted.  Robert got into their routine and, for the most part, was cooperative and even enthusiastic. We celebrated each milestone from getting out of bed to learning to use a transfer pole to leg exercises and eventually walking with a walker!

There were days he didn’t want to do the exercises but I participated with him one day and suggested they do PT before breakfast since he was already awake and dressed and just waiting around for breakfast to be served.  That seemed to work except on the days when his excessive drowsiness came back to haunt him (the doctor suspects that might be caused from high ammonia levels so we’re keeping an eye on that).

The physical and occupational therapists came to know Robert and worked around his drowsiness and his occasional reluctance.  They commented on how polite he was and how hard he was working.

The combination of Sinemet, the PT and OT and Robert’s own persistence has worked miracles. 

Robert walking again!

My hope was to get Robert back to where he was in June – using a wheelchair and being able to transfer without us having to lift him. Then I knew he could come home.

He has exceeded those hopes and blown them out of the water! He is walking with a walker but we’re using a wheelchair for long distance as he still gets tired easily. He is dressing himself – including those difficult socks! He is brushing his teeth by himself and is not nearly as sleepy. He actually moves quicker and is staying awake and alert throughout the day. Robert is cooperative and pleasant and is continually surprising us with his progress.

Robert is happier than I have seen him in a very long time. He is grateful to be home. He said he liked the SNF but he likes being home “a lot more.”

Robert was happy to see all three dogs (yes, even Taz!) and said they were all “good dogs.”

Robert's first meal back home: Cheeseburger & shake --
and a little bit of Rocky Road ice cream

Robert told me and Richard on his first night at home, “It is a very happy day to be back home.”

Robert is back – not just back home but back to himself and that makes for a very happy day indeed. 

The reality is that Robert will continue to need physical therapy and for us to help him with “cues” so he doesn’t slip back into old habits. He will need to continue to be monitored to see if the Sinemet needs any adjustment. We still know with all of Robert’s diagnoses, there is no “cure” and we will see a steady decline but we have reset the starting point. We have drastically shifted where we were just a few months ago. 

Even though there is no cure and the reality is that the future holds a decline and probable hospitalizations, the moment right now is what we are celebrating. And if there’s one thing Robert has taught me, it is to appreciate the moments.

The future cannot take this moment from us.