The night before school was supposed to start, my daughter had a panic attack: what if she started hurting again at school? What if her arm started twitching and she couldn't control it? What if people asked questions? What if the teachers thought she was faking?
I told her people would be curious, so answer briefly and honestly: you've been sick and sometimes the meds make your muscles twitch, but you're feeling better now. Then change the subject or find a way to joke about it. People just want to know what's up most of the time, then they move on.
I told her to carry the letter from the doc and principal with her so she could remind teachers if necessary and to tell them to direct any questions to me.
I told her that if she starts hurting again, I'd be there. I told her I would sit in the parking lot with a book if it would make her feel safer, so I would be right there if she needed me. I told her that there would be days she felt better or worse than others and that the world wouldn't end if she had to take longer than she wanted to finish the school year, that whatever happened, she could get through it. I told her she wouldn't be left alone to deal with it. I told her how much I loved her and how I supported her, no matter what happened or how long things took.
I didn't tell her not to cry, though. Sometimes, you need to cry it all out of you. I held her and told her all those other things till I was blue in the face, though. She tried very hard to relax without pills: did her biofeedback exercises, did the hypnotherapy thing, etc., but she was so wired and anxious that by the time 2:30 in the morning rolled around, all she could do was sit there and twitch and shake.
So, even though I was exhausted I said you know what? Let's drive. We'll get in the car and just drive and maybe the motion will help the restless arm thing stop and you'll be able to relax a little. We get in the car and in less than ten minutes she was sound asleep. I had her put her seat back a little so her lolling head would stop jolting her awake and she slept while I drove.
I wanted her to stay asleep long enough for her system to kind of reset, so I got on the 101 and started driving north. The drive up the coast was gorgeous - far enough out, the water is just a few yards from the road. The moon was almost full and so low in the sky it seemed to be floating on the surface of the ocean. I kicked myself for not bringing my camera, but how can you stop and grab your camera when you're trying to help your kid calm down, right?
I ended up driving all the way to Santa Barbara and back, 150 miles round trip (more or less.) Half a tank of gas and she slept the whole way. When I got her home, she was able to go straight to sleep and she hasn't twitched once since. I think she needed the constant drone of the drive and my constant, reassuring proximity. It reminded me of her big sister, colicky as a baby, who we could only get to stop crying by putting her in the car and driving around and around . . . and around . . .
