CBD vapors: Our new frontier

Last week, we brought Chaya back to the epileptologist who first examined her in September 2018 ["Making it a round dozen"].

During that first visit, she had spent a solid hour patiently recording Chaya's history and recommending several new steps we should take. But once home, we hit snags that prevented us from proceeding. The primary one was our inability to contact her staff. They never returned calls or emails and we needed to coordinate everything with them. 

 
I was prepared to just forget about this epileptologist notwithstanding her superb credentials and top grade recommendations. But the Hubby preferred to persevere. 

So, last week we expended a second round of time, energy and money to shlep back to her with Chaya. As it turned out, the latter proved entirely unnecessary: the doctor didn't so much as look at Chaya, let alone touch or medically examine her. 

One of her concerns back in September was Chaya's thinness. This time she asked us whether she had gained weight since our last visit. But she didn't trouble to weigh her on either occasion. Chaya might as well have been invisible and our efforts to bring her to the office were clearly wasted. 

I was puzzled and annoyed. What's the consensus out there? Am I being unreasonable?

This time around, her assistant did contact us a few days after the appointment. She is instructing us on how to switch Cannabis CBD suppliers. This is a complicated process involving reams of paperwork required by the Ministry of Health. 

The switch is necessary in order to procure CBD in vapor form. which the epileptologist believes is absorbed more thoroughly than the oil Chaya currently receives. 

To start with, we will divide dose between the two forms.

We are pursuing this option over the one that the epileptologist urged on us most enthusiastically, namely: surgery. She is keen to have Chaya's twenty year old, inactive Vagal Nerve Stimulator (VNS) removed and replaced with an updated, more sophisticated version. 

We had this urged on us three years ago by another neurologist: the one who destroyed Chaya's liver with Valproic Acid and then washed her hands of us. So, I'm sure you'll understand why it isn't an option for which I harbor any warm sentiments.

At that time, we got as far as meeting the surgeon himself. He informed us that the surgery would be "complicated" but doable. He too was eager, though he warned us that a pre-requisite would be Chaya's gaining some weight.

But before Chaya could oblige us with some weight, liver failure struck and the neurologist who had been touting the VNS surgery, as I mentioned, fled the scene. (After alleging that the liver failure was more likely caused by the CBD than by the Valproic Acid.)

Fast forward to last week's visit: I've had a couple of years to mull the surgical option and am far less enamored with it than I was then. Chaya has been through the liver ordeal and several severe urinary tract infections in the interim.

So this time I pressed hard on the brakes. "Thanks, but no thanks." I told the epileptologist. "Chaya will try the CBD vapors before we subject her to any complicated surgery." Or something to that effect.

Of course, the doctor tried to convince me of its "uncomplicatedness". But I wasn't buying it this time. 

So here's hoping those vapors bring Chaya's ravaged brain some respite from the two decades of daily seizures she has endured.

A hospitalization journal

Sunday, October 7

I'd hoped we could keep these hospitalizations annual - but it was not to be. Yesterday, a half hour after feeding herself a big meal with gusto, Chaya vomited it up in its entirety. Afterwards she copiously vomited liquid every couple of hours.

We tried caring for her at home administering Pramin suppositories - acquired from a local gemach  - as her pediatrician advised. He said that without fever or diarrhea the likelihood of dehydration was slim. But the Pramin had no effect. Horrific doesn't come close to describing that night. 

By morning, there were strands of brown blood in the vomit rendering the question of "what to do" a no-brainer. So here we are back in the ER, 11 months after Chaya's last hospitalization. 

So far, she's weathered a chest x-ray and a 12 hour struggle to get urine via a catheter (an incredibly incompetent nurse couldn't get any urine even though Chaya's on a fluid drip. The next shift's nurse collected it with ease. The consensus: it's another UTI. 

This leaves us at a loss as to how to prevent them. We had to stop giving cranberry juice several weeks ago because that seemed to cause vomiting. Should we now resume that, perhaps in a more diluted form?

Tuesday, October 9

Here we are, finally, in a proper ward (where we waited several hours in the corridor for a room):

The doctors' diagnosis has done a 180: UTI is now negated and replaced with "some infection, somewhere", possibly gastroenteritis. Presumably that triggered aspiration of vomit since the blood test results indicate infection. The profuse vomiting may then have caused intestinal bleeding which appeared in her vomit. 

She's still getting IV Controloc (pantoprazole) to prevent a repeat of that bleeding although there's no sign of it anymore, not even in her stools.

Bumped into that neurologist who we concluded had dumped us when she ignored our last email. Apparently she never saw it and is happy to resume her role as Chaya's neurologist. While she's pleased we consulted that senior epileptologist she recommended, she warns that getting regular appointments there won't be easy.

So she promptly ordered a CT and an EEG for Chaya. She also assured us she'll contact that terrific American neurologist whom we encountered during last November's hospitalization. He's the doctor who rescued Chaya from the avalanche of drugs that had reduced her to semi-comatose. 

I may have mentioned here that we can't contact consult him directly because he doesn't have a practice; this neurologist who will be our conduit to him decided to search for info about central fever and told us she learned it's not uncommon among uncontrolled epileptics!

Chaya is now off the IV drip and has begun to eat and drink. She's back on her Vimpat which was only available in pill form. (They had Keppra in IV form, so she's been getting that regularly). But I haven't resumed the cannabis yet.

We've missed hydrotherapy - Chaya's pinnacle of pleasure - which takes place on Tuesdays. We may also miss the long-awaited delivery of Chaya's new wheelchair scheduled for Thursday.

Wednesday, October 10

Back on the drip because, after a batch of heavy seizures, Chaya was unable to eat and could drink only a bit. A CT was done this morning. Not clear why it was ordered but haven't heard any results yet in any case. UTI has been ruled out even more emphatically today. It's not looking as though we'll have C. home in time for the wheelchair delivery tomorrow.

And here are a couple of gems from the medicos...

Nurse about to finish her shift comes around with next shift's nurse to do what is known here as חפיפה (= passing the baton). I hear her mention that she had taken Chaya's temperature which was slightly elevated but that she decided against Tylenol. I told both nurses that she is seizing badly and could actually benefit from Tylenol for her fever. Then the nurse about to leave delivers her pearls of wisdom: "You see, she's seizing badly because her epilepsy isn't controlled. It needs to be brought under control. She needs to see a neurologist." To me: "You should consult a neurologist." 

I regret that I didn't ask her: "Why? Do you think she might have epilepsy?"

Wednesday night, October 10

I witnessed an argument between two doctors at the station which was situated immediately outside our cubicle. I had the curtain open so couldn't avoid seeing and hearing one, a male , tell the other, a female: "You're a hussy". The other responded: "Well tell me, do you know the patient's background?" "You ought to tell me it", snarled the guy back at her. "No, you're supposed to know it," she repeated. "Why don't you just do your job?" The guy shot back adding once again: "You're a smart-ass." 

Help! So many lives are in the hands of these nincompoops.

That same male doctor had earlier declared to my husband as he saw him approaching: "Whatever you're about to say, I'm not interested unless it's urgent. I only deal with urgent matters."

Thursday, October 11

Chaya will be released today. Didn't see that coming. The CT negated anything alarming and the EEG showed no change since the last one.

While she isn't eating or drinking much, I nixed the nurse's suggestion of a feeding tube. On Tuesday, a speech pathologist assessed Chaya's swallowing skills and they passed muster. So I figured it was best to just persevere with feeding by mouth. Minimize intervention is our credo.

Thursday night, October 11

Home! And, the icing on the cake is that the new wheelchair is here too! Here is Chaya, sitting in it for the first time:

Next up: Aleh actually encourages parents to give up their children to its institutions. It does so via its new Hotline. No wonder that hospital staff repeatedly asked us about Chaya: "Where does she live?" And were surprised by our response.

Making it a round dozen

Last week, we tried out a new neurologist, one who specializes in epilepsy, aka an epileptologist. This brings our tally to roughly a dozen since, when she was three months old, we discovered that Chaya was neurologically impaired.

In the hospital waiting area

Here (right) is Chaya at the hospital while we wait to be admitted to the new doctor's office. 

We had to pay out-of-pocket because the earliest appointment with her that we were offered in the public clinic was April 2019! At a time like this, our system feels like "public medicine" only nominally. We are forced into the private domain too often.

This epileptologist gave us an hour and a half during which we covered Chaya's history, symptoms and functioning. 

Afterward the doctor conveyed her thoughts and recommendations. This probably sounds rather routine but, trust me, in our experience, it's a rarity. We really felt that we got our money's worth.

Of course, that's not to say we left her office uplifted. There was much for us to digest and ponder. So here goes.

Med changes

First, she recommended raising one of the two anti-epileptics Chaya's on, Vimpat, by 50 mg/dose. I promptly did that the following night. After two weeks, we raise it in the morning as well. She said the current dose is considered low. Who knew? (And who knew that nabbing those 50mg pills of Vimpat would be so challenging. So, beware, they are in short supply and available only in a handful of Kupat Holim pharmacies).

She also advised doing a blood test to check the level of the second drug Chaya gets, Keppra. Her current dose of that drug - 1,500 mg. twice/day - is also deemed low. Again, news to us. Our previous neurologist either was unaware of that or just kept it a secret. 

In fact, at our last visit she had recommended adding a third anti-epileptic! Frisium! That's one of the benzodiazepams that rendered Chaya semi-comatose during her hospitalization back in November! (As the exclamation points indicate, I haven't yet recovered from that nightmare.)

By the way, that incompetent neurologist never bothered to answer our last email. In it, we mentioned, inter alia, that we had not added the third med, Frisium, as she had instructed us to do. I suppose she wasn't too pleased with that.

Back to the new neurologist...

Video EEG

We've never done one and she'd like us to. So some time in the coming weeks, Chaya will be hospitalized for 24 hours. Here's hoping we glean some helpful revelations. Our Kupah has already given us a hit'hayvut for it.

Chaya's frequent fevers

New neurologist wasn't impressed with the exclusion testing that C.'s pediatrician did. As I've written, he did a thorough clinical exam and blood test before concluding that the fevers Chaya's now getting - they max at 100.6 degrees Fahrenheit rectally - are not caused by an infection. Ergo, they must be central.

New neurologist said that those exams weren't enough to reach that conclusion. She said she's seen patients whose seizures are more numerous than Chaya's but who never get central fevers. She suspects there could be some underlying condition, perhaps related to her life-long thinness, triggering the fevers. She said the pediatrician should have referred us to a specialist - she couldn't specify but tossed out endocrinologist and gastroentereologist as possibilities - who could run further tests. 

"Ouch", I thought when I heard that criticism of our ever-supportive, brilliant and kind pediatrician. But the following day, he read the new neurologist's summary with equanimity, then promptly gave us referrals for a couple more blood tests to tighten the "central fever" theory. He never ceases to amaze us.

VNS

New neurologist strongly urged having a new VNS implanted. The one Chaya sports now dates back to December 1999 and never helped her one iota. She advises trying it again. Of course, this time we'll have somebody better equipped to calibrate it afterwards. Back in the year 2000, there wasn't any such expert in this city. (I know, I know: so why did we implant it then anyway? That was just another of our many blunders.)

But removing this old one isn't easy, we've been told, because the wires are now overgrown with skin - or something along those lines. 

Also, the last neurologist to push a VNS replacement was the one who destroyed Chaya's liver with Valproic Acid and refused to own up to it. Negative associations.

Cannabis

I had braced myself for dismissiveness so I was relieved when new neurologist simply noted that Chaya's CBD dose is very high. Which would explain why the Health Ministry refused to renew our license for 11 bottles (= 100gm) per month. Our new one permits only 10 bottles/month.

She said Chaya's current dose would be more efficacious in the form of vapor which is absorbed far more quickly. I haven't gotten around to inquiring about the availability of this form at our supplier, Tikun Olam. My hunch is we'll need to switch to another supplier (the one that the doctor recommended); not a process I relish.

Hydro

Last week yielded a brief respite from frequent seizures and fevers during an extra long hydrotherapy session where Chaya truly rocked. Here she is:

Sadly, the therapy pool will be closed for the entire coming month. Wishing everybody a G'mar Hatimah Tova and an easy fast on Yom Kippur.