Many of you, although knowing me rather well, do not know the eldest of my two younger brothers. Callum is a seventeen year old who was diagnosed with Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome when he was four and a half years old. Before the doctors got his epilepsy stabilised, our lives were turned upside down.
Callum started off having what is known as a 'drop attack', where his body would be flung backwards and he would often hit his head off the ground. These seizures were often quite dangerous to him and led to many stitches on a single patch of his head. That patch has now been made hairless due to the significant amount of times that he ended up splitting the skin open. We went through endless nights of bad seizures, stages where Callum had to permanently wear a bicycle helmet on his head to reduce the damage and endless trips to neurologists, doctors and the hospital.
I've grown up with Callum having LGS and watched him rise and fight his syndrome when he was moved out of mainstream schools into private home schooling. At around nine years of age he was relatively stabilised, as much as would be expected, and despite the fact that he has a retarding epilepsy he was doing okay at school and life. Then we moved to America. There was no more home-schooling, he struggled in mainstream classes with 'special help' and started having a new type of seizure that was potentially fatal. Non-convulsive status epilepticus, a seizure where the person slips into an almost coma-like state. Callum would sometimes slip into these states for several hours, something that really concerned my mother. Anyway, Callum and I moved to Dundee, Scotland to live with our father where we lead a considerably more routine based life. This was what Callum needed. He managed to get into a special school for children with special needs. In his class of around six people, Callum did well. He even managed to gain some minor credits towards his standard grades (O Levels/GCSEs). Due to the fact that his epilepsy is a retarding condition his mental age has been an average of around six or so years of age. So, Callum was improving. His seizures were becoming more managed and although he had peak of challenging behaviour he was appearing to stabilise. Then everything changed.
My father passed away suddenly when Callum was nearly fourteen years old throwing him into a world of confusion and distress. Combine this event with puberty, a change of routine due to my mother and younger brother moving in with us and a new school all within the space of one year. A single one of those changes would be hard for an able bodied person to cope with at his age, but his autistic characteristics and traits of the LGS made Callum's (expected) deterioration to increase at a much faster rate than was expected.
In the past two and a half years since my father's passing, I have watched my brother increasingly become more confused, isolated and withdrawn as his challenging behaviour becomes a threat to us and those around him. As LGS is such an uncommon form of epilepsy it makes it hard for my mother to compare Callum to other children and the fact that he also exhibits traits of autism makes things even more complicated.
It's emotionally pulling to watch as Callum forgets how to carry out the day to day tasks, forgets how to play his favourite sport and just generally struggles to cope with society and life itself. As I watch how other people treat people with disabilities in such poor ways I get frustrated and angry. I must confess that part of me is glad that Callum's life expectancy is lower than that of the average British person as it is my hope that he will not have to endure the comments directed at these people form whom each day is a battle. In his own little world Callum is content and oblivious to his deterioration, much like an elderly person he is fading back into the dependent state in which everyone is born. For now though I am simply thankful that although his deterioration and ability to cope is hard to miss to the external world, Callum is relatively content to live his life in a world that fades with each passing day.