Real Voice｜The Night My Daughter Had a Febrile Seizure in Japan

Real Voice | Bilingual Parenting

The first time my daughter had a febrile seizure (熱性けいれん)¹ in Japan is something my body still remembers. 

She was 18 months old, and although we use English, Cantonese, and Japanese at home, none of those languages prepares you for the moment your child suddenly stops responding.

The Moment Everything Changed

That day had been completely normal. She played at daycare, ate well, and the teachers only mentioned she felt “a little warm.”

We went home, had dinner, took a shower, and put her to bed as usual.

Then everything changed.

Her body stiffened.
Her eyes rolled back.
Her lips turned purple.
Her arms shook uncontrollably.

It took a moment before my mind understood what I was seeing: a febrile seizure.

I spoke to her in Cantonese. No response.
I switched to Japanese but still no response.

I shouted to my husband to call an ambulance. 
Even though he is a native Japanese speaker, I could feel he was just as terrified as I was.
Parents may speak different languages, but fear speaks only one.

The seizure stopped before the ambulance arrived. 
Her colour slowly returned, and she began to cry – a sound that strangely brought relief. 

While the paramedics searched for a hospital that could take her, they asked questions I knew were important, but my mind was foggy. 

When they asked for her birthday, I suddenly forgot how to say numbers in Japanese. 
I stared at the clock on the wall until I calmed down enough to answer.

They told us that calling 119 had been the right choice.Hearing “You did well to call” softened the panic inside me.

Navigating Fear and Language at the Clinic

At the hospital, my husband explained the situation to the doctors while I held her close.

They asked about her birth history, how long the seizure lasted, and whether she had a fever before or after it.
Even after a few years of living in Japan, medical Japanese still felt fast and overwhelming.

I understood only parts of the conversation. 
My husband handled most explanations, but I added details in simple Japanese whenever I could.

Before we left, the doctor explained the key point clearly:

• The duration of the seizure is the most important factor.
• If a future seizure stops quickly and she becomes responsive again within about 15 minutes, we wouldn’t need to panic in the same way.

Her gentle tone made the whole experience feel a little more manageable.

What I Want Other Parents to Know

On the way home, my daughter fell asleep in my arms, exhausted.
By the next day, her fever had gone down and she was back to her usual energy.

Meanwhile, I was still carrying the fear from the night before.

The early years of parenting are full of illnesses and sleepless nights. 
Trying to work and care for a toddler at the same time pushed me to my limits, but that is a story for another day.

What I am beginning to realize is this:

Children move past these moments much faster than we do.
We are the ones who hold the memory.

And even in a multilingual home where you switch languages, forget vocabulary, or struggle with medical terms, you still find a way to support your child. 
You use whatever courage, instinct, and words you can find.

Our children won’t remember the parts we forgot to say in Japanese.
They remember that we held them tightly, stayed beside them, and never left them alone.

And in the end, that is what matters most.

Next Step

• Download our full Fever Guide (printable)
• Save the emergency contacts
• Keep a simple symptom tracker ready at home

💛 You’re doing your best, and your child feels that.