Tag: diet

A Message Of Hope

I was nervous walking up to the doors of the classroom. I put my hand on one of the door handles, leaning in close, hoping to hear the conversations in the room. I turned slightly and could see in to the room through the gap between the two doors.

The tables were arranged in a “U”. The door that I was hiding behind was in the back of the room, so I saw the face of the presenter and the backs of the heads of some of the attendees. Shifting left and right, I could see the sides of the faces of those seated on the sides. I took a deep breath, turned the handle, and quietly walked in to the room.

As I came through the doors, the presenter at the podium and other staff smiled and greeted me quietly and warmly. A few of the attendees…parents…turned briefly to look at me and then back to the presenter.

As I moved to a seat in the back of the room, the presenter said “…and you will hear from one of our parents shortly” and gestured towards me. I sat, flashed a smile and casually nodded as I made eye contact with the other parents that were now looking in my direction.

I pulled open my laptop, pretending to make last minute changes to my slides (that were actually not mine, they were my wife’s). I wasn’t ready for eye contact. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm my nervous energy.

I had been in this room before. Just over a year before, I sat where the other parents were sitting, learning about the ketogenic diet. Like these parents, I was there because I had a child with epilepsy that was not responding well to medicine. Like them, I was scared…about epilepsy, about the future, about how scary and terrible and daunting the diet seemed to be. Like them, I was there trying to find hope.

The keto team at the hospital puts on these information sessions once a month, giving the dirty details of the ketogenic diet as a treatment for epilepsy. The day is filled with the history and the application of the diet. There are demonstrations of how a meal is measured. The social worker talks about support during the journey. And at the end, the grand finale, a parent of a keto kid takes the stage.

On that day, that parent was me.

My mind kept going back to when I was in the class. We had only been out of the hospital for a month or two, and my son was still seizing, still not responding to medicine, and still having side effects from the medicine that he was on. I was still reeling from the trauma of his ongoing condition. My wife had to stay home with my son, so I went to the class alone…cared, overwhelmed, and alone.

I remember being more buried by the information that was being presented. The diet works for some people, not for others. The diet is hard work. Thoughts of what was happening to my son mixed with the sad possibility that the diet wouldn’t work, or that it would but he wouldn’t be able to scarf down a bag of potato chips or eat a candy bar. By the time the parent speaker, Amy, stepped up, I was raw.

Amy talked about her son who was on the diet for two years. She talked about how the diet worked for them, and that it was hard at first, but became easier. She shared some of her tips, and she brought her son in with her and he sad quietly eating his snack…a snack that looked like a normal snack, except for the shot of oil at the end. After the class, I talked to her, and we talked about what was happening with us, and I asked if my wife could contact her. She said yes. Because, as I’ve learned, we’re all in this together, and we need to support each other, because no one understands what we’re going through like other people going through the same thing.

I thought about Amy, and about how I felt sitting on the other side of the table, as I nervously walked up to the podium. I made a checklist in my head of the things I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about how scared and overwhelmed I was, and how hard the diet was at first. I wanted to talk about my son, and how much better he was doing since we started the diet. But mostly, I talked about hope, the thing that I went to the class desperate to find a year before, and the thing that I most wanted them to leave with.

I scanned the room. One mom who was too overwhelmed and had left the room was making her way back to her seat. The other parents looked exhausted after a long day. And now, they were looking at me.

“Hi, I’m David, ” I began, “and just over a year ago, I was sitting right where you are.”

May 12, 2016
The Day My Son Stopped Skating

Before my son was born, we already had his name picked out. The name came from a hockey player on a team that I liked…not my favorite player, mind you, but rather a player who’s last name sounded like it would be a cool first name for a future hockey star. And so he was named, and so began his inevitable indoctrination in to the world of hockey.

On my son’s second night of life, he and I laid on the couch in hospital room watching the Colorado Avalanche on television. Well, I was watching. He was sleeping and absorbing the game through osmosis.

When he was two, even before he had his first haircut, he got his first hockey stick. He was just learning to run, but we were already playing floor hockey almost every night after I got home from work. The more exposed to the game he got, the more aspects of it we incorporated in to our play, from national anthems, to player introductions, to raising the Stanley Cup after the last game of the night.

When he was three, he broke his foot jumping off a chair. The break required a cast (or four casts, since as new parents, we hadn’t quite figured out how to keep his cast dry between the bath and the snow on the ground). But that didn’t stop him from playing hockey, shuffling around and taking slapshots from his knees.

Once his foot healed, we bought him his first pair of hockey skates. We went to a hockey store where he was surrounded by every pad, stick, and puck he had imagined himself playing with while watching the games on television. He sat on the bench getting sized for his stakes, ready to take the ice.

When he finally hit the ice, I half-expected him to skate circles around me. He didn’t, of course, and he spent most of is time on the ice (either from falling or intentionally sliding on his belly), but there were moments pushing around the skating aid where I could see his gears turning, imaging himself crossing the blue line for a breakaway goal.

From there, we took a parent-tot skating class before he joined the “learn to skate” program. During every class, he would look down the ice at the older kids in the hockey class, and he would ask how much longer before he could join them. It motivated him to get better and, a few months before his fifth birthday, he was finally registered for the “introduction to hockey” class.

The first day of class, he filled the locker room with electricity as he was finally able to put on all his hockey pads and jersey. He lined up with the rest of the class, ready to take the ice. The door opened, and the miniature hockey team took to the ice. When it was my son’s turn, he put one foot on the ice, then the other, and then fell straight down. Of course, wanting to record this moment, I have this inauspicious start on video, and I had planned on showing his teammates someday when he was playing in the National Hockey League.

But then, shortly after his classes started, he had his first seizure. By the end of the year, his seizures had gotten out of control, and his fatigue and the side effects of the medicine made skating a dangerous impossibility. He lost control of his body that he was once able to control so completely. He was ripped away from the sport and the activity that he continued to talk about and watch on television every day.

We no longer thought about skating or the NHL, we just hoped that the seizures would stop, and that the damage done from the seizures and the toxicity and side effects from the medicines wasn’t permanent. There were days when my son was too tired to function and too wobbly to stand but he would try to go in the basement and take shots. It broke my heart to see him like that, but I would go down and play with him, sometimes fighting back tears on the really bad days.

There were days when I thought that was where our story would end. But thanks to the amazing people who cared for him, my son’s condition started to improve. Although we are not seizure free, they happen mostly at night. As we continue on the ketogenic diet and adjust his medications, my son has regained much of his balance. We started working with an off-ice coach so that he can be more active and build his stamina doing something that he loves. Then, a few weeks ago, a day we had almost stopped hoping for came.

We hopped in to a taxi and headed to our local ice rink. My son put on his helmet, his jersey, and we helped him put on his skates. He stood and started walking down the hallway towards the ice. The next few steps felt like they came in slow motion. I held my breath as he grabbed the side of the boards with his right hand and stepped on to the ice with one foot and then the other. After a few seconds, he was free of the boards, the edges of his skates digging in to the ice and propelling him forward.

Even though we only spent a short amount of time on the ice, it was enough for mark a milestone in our journey with epilepsy. We don’t know what the future holds, how long the diet or the medicine will work to control his seizures. We don’t know if he’ll be able to continue to skate if his seizures spike again or if he develops new side effects or complications as he ages. But for as dark as things have been, as much as my son has gone through, and as impossible as everything had seemed, for one afternoon, he was able to do what he loved, and we celebrated that moment as if he had just won the Stanley Cup.

October 29, 2015
Traveling With The Ketogenic Diet

My son has always been a good traveler. When we lived in Colorado, we would visit our families in Florida and California, flying across the country a few times a year. When my son was old enough to have his own seat, he decided to take mine at the window, relegating me to the middle seat. After nearly every flight, he tells me that I can have the window seat “next time”, only to change his mind when we get in line to board the next plane.

As good a traveler as he is, it’s still stressful traveling with a child. Getting out of the house, to the airport, through security, and seated on the plane without forgetting a toy or a favorite blanket (or a child) can be a daunting task, no matter how well we prepare the night or the week before. Those people who travel with more than one child should automatically earn a merit badge. That’s a level of legendary coordination, preparation, and timing that I’ve only read about in books and saw scratched on the back of a stall door in the airport restroom.

The more we traveled, though, the more the experience went from a general feeling of panic to more of a controlled chaos. We figured out what preparations we could do the night before and how early we wanted to be at the airport so that there was no praying that we are able to drop our bags off in time or pushing a stroller in full sprint to the gate. Worst case, we make it through security with enough time to hit the restroom before boarding the plane. Best case, we can also grab a lunch and a magazine for the plane. Usually, we wind up somewhere in between, which as far as traveling with children is concerned is pretty much the sweet spot.

This year, another variable was added to complicate our travel, and that was the ketogenic diet for our son’s epilepsy. The ketogenic (or keto) diet is a high-fat, low carb diet that has been shown to have positive benefits for kids with difficult-to-control seizures. The diet requires a specific fat-to-everything-else ratio, and each ingredient must be measured to a tenth of a gram. The sources of fat for the diet are butter, mayonnaise, or oil, each of which present challenges when traveling by plane. For example, mayo and butter are both perishable and need to be refrigerated. Mayonnaise and oil are liquids according to the TSA and fall under the 3 ounce rule.

Our son, as well as many other “keto kids”, prefers to take his fat as an oil chaser with his meal. This allows him to eat “normal” food without having to incorporate butter or mayo in everything, but of the three sources of fat, oil is the one least likely to be found inside an airport terminal. We may be able to find a packet of mayonnaise or a pat of butter in a sandwich shop, but any oil that we find will be suspect in terms of purity, and there shouldn’t be a lot of guessing when it comes to the diet since a possible outcome of a bad fat ratio is a seizure.

Since we’ve been on the diet, we’ve made a number of trips and we’re getting better at accommodating the diet in our travels, so I wanted to pass along some insight for those of you that are just starting the diet or are concerned about traveling while on the ketogenic diet.

Pack Snacks For The Plane

Typically, we’ll measure and pack the food the night before the trip. Travelers are allowed to food through the security checkpoint, so we will pack a lunch and a snack. For the fat exchanges, since our son prefers oil, we use the [easyazon_link identifier=”B000WKNW2Q” locale=”US” tag=”lightningbuddha-20″]Medela Breastmilk Containers (2.7 Ounce)[/easyazon_link] bottles. They seal well and, at 2.7 ounces, they are under the TSA 3 ounce rule but provide enough capacity to hold more than a meal’s worth of oil. Since different meals might have different amounts of oil, each container gets labeled and paired with the associated food, and we might pack an extra oil in case we get delayed and need to rely on airport terminal food.

When using mayonnaise instead of oil, the prepackaged [easyazon_link identifier=”B00HZAJHR0″ locale=”US” tag=”lightningbuddha-20″]Hellmann’s Mayo Packets[/easyazon_link] are a great option. Treat them as liquids going through TSA, but since they are sealed, they won’t spoil sitting out on a long delay on the runway. You may be able to score some of these inside a restaurant in the terminal, too.

In every case, weigh the food before you get on the plan. For the scale to work, it needs to be on a flat, level surface, which is impossible at 35,000 feet.

Pack The Scale And Ketogenic Guide In Carry-On

We pack our scale and ketogenic manuals in our carry on. Both get used for every meal, so whether it’s because of an extra long flight delay or a forgotten lunch, the scale, manual, and an open shop or restaurant are all we need to get food for our son at the airport. Never pack these items in checked bags.

Use TSA Pre-Check

One of the best investments we made recently was to get both my wife and I signed up for TSA Pre-Check. For $85, we can now use the TSA Pre-Check line, which means we don’t have to take off our shoes, or take our liquids or laptops out of our bags. Less disassembly on the front end means less reassembly on the back end, and it makes the whole security screening process less stressful. In order for both of us to go through the Pre-Check line, both of us needed to apply for the program, so keep that in mind.

You Can Travel While On The Ketogenic Diet

Finally, I wanted to let you know that you can still travel while on the ketogenic diet. The keto diet brings with it a lot of lifestyle changes. Dining out, birthday parties, and playdates all require special considerations for food. One of my fears before starting the diet was that we wouldn’t be able to travel. Where would our son eat? What would he eat? The answer is easy. Ever place we travel to will have food. If we aren’t staying with friends or family, we’ll book a hotel that has a kitchen, which gives us more options to prepare food ourselves and in advance. But even without the kitchen or a refrigerator, we bring our scale and keto guide, buy a bottle of canola oil which doesn’t need to be refrigerated and we’re set to jet.

I hope these tips help. If you have any travel tips that you would like to share, please do so in the comments.

Happy travels!

October 2, 2015
The Hockey Diet

When I first heard about the ketogenic, it was long before it would ever be recommended to us. My son was only just diagnosed with epilepsy, and the diet seemed like an extreme option, especially since he was just starting his first epilepsy medicine. But as his seizures got worse and as we moved from medicine to medicine to find one that would work, we eventually found ourselves that extreme situation where the diet became an option for us.

Now, we’re one month away from starting the diet. Once we start it, for the foreseeable future we’ll be measuring everything he eats to a tenth of a gram. We’ll have to figure out how to tell a five-year old that he can’t have pizza. Or spaghetti. Or gum. Of course, all the measuring and the food restrictions are worth it if the diet works for him, especially if it means a better quality of life, less seizures, and less medicine.

I was struggling with how to sell the diet to my son. Much like not wanting to change his room because of his seizures, I didn’t want to have to associate such a strict diet with his seizures, either. Then, during the orientation for the diet that the children’s hospital offers, a nurse told the story of how some parents put their daughter on “the princess diet”, and how that helped ease the transition on to the diet for her. At that moment, I knew that my son wasn’t going on the ketogenic diet. He was going on “the hockey diet.”

When I told him, he got excited. It doesn’t change that he’s going to miss a lot of his favorite foods, or that he’ll have to eat different food from his friends at school and at birthday parties. But by giving it a positive spin and turning it in to a diet for his favorite thing on the planet, we’re hoping it makes the transition even just a little bit easier.

March 15, 2015