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Bleah.
I had another fucking seizure. First in nine months. I was beginning to hope that I'd never have one again. So much for that dream!
Felt horrible from the moment I woke up this morning, sort of like I was coming down with something. Like an idiot, I go to work anyway. At about 1030, I'm signing into the UA Theater for my patrol there, and wham! I wake up on the floor, tired, confused, and aphasic as hell. End up with half the Colma emergency services standing around me, plus an AMR rig.
They take me to Seton Medical Center, which I've never been to before (You know you've been a cancer patient too long when you start comparison-shopping ERs.) I get the twice over from the RN's and a doctor. The real fun part is nobody there has ever heard of my anticonvulsant medication before! Trying to explain your course of treatment when you can't remember how to say a third of the words is really fun, trust me.
Since it was obvious that I wasn't going serial on them, they drew blood (It took three punches.. two in the same vein. Never get a RN to do a vampire's job!) I was then allowed to rest while they waited for word from the lab and Kirsten got there. During this time, I listened to the woman in the next curtain describe a textbook stroke, and got some juicy gossip from the nurses' station.
Kirsten showed up right after I got my walking (staggering) papers.. then we dealt with my leads.. For some reason, EMTs and nurses always hit the hairiest spots on my chest when they glue sensor leads to me. Today, I ended up with *six* of the suckers. Using a solvent provided by the ER staff, we got the three slapped on by Colma FD, and one of the evil Red Dot patches that was placed on a spot that was mostly hairless. The other two I was going to remove at home.
But first, food. When I seize, I come out of it with three reactions: I'm exhausted, confused, and starving. So we went to Sizzler after I took the work phone back to the guard shack. Good steak. Homeward bound.
Once back home, I headed into the shower while Kirsten called my neurologist and the members of the extended family. I the shower, my attempts to melt the glue met with partial success. I now have several bald, red patches on my chest.
I fucking hate epilepsy. Compared with this disease, everything else about my Hodgkin's has been a walk in the bloody park. I despise the fact that I lose control of my body, that for a few minutes I cease being human and become this twitching animal. Of course, I brought this upon myself.. working 7 days a week, up to 14 hours a day between the guard gig and writing the book, not eating well, and not slowing down when my allergies started hitting me. And it could have been worse... I could have collapsed in the parking lot, or in the middle of Colma Blvd.
So, I'm going to be fuzzy headed for the next 12 hours or so, while my brain unscrambles. It was interesting; when I came to I could smell fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies and taste tacos. There was a clear, bell-like tone in my ears. No weird memory flashes this time.
Felt horrible from the moment I woke up this morning, sort of like I was coming down with something. Like an idiot, I go to work anyway. At about 1030, I'm signing into the UA Theater for my patrol there, and wham! I wake up on the floor, tired, confused, and aphasic as hell. End up with half the Colma emergency services standing around me, plus an AMR rig.
They take me to Seton Medical Center, which I've never been to before (You know you've been a cancer patient too long when you start comparison-shopping ERs.) I get the twice over from the RN's and a doctor. The real fun part is nobody there has ever heard of my anticonvulsant medication before! Trying to explain your course of treatment when you can't remember how to say a third of the words is really fun, trust me.
Since it was obvious that I wasn't going serial on them, they drew blood (It took three punches.. two in the same vein. Never get a RN to do a vampire's job!) I was then allowed to rest while they waited for word from the lab and Kirsten got there. During this time, I listened to the woman in the next curtain describe a textbook stroke, and got some juicy gossip from the nurses' station.
Kirsten showed up right after I got my walking (staggering) papers.. then we dealt with my leads.. For some reason, EMTs and nurses always hit the hairiest spots on my chest when they glue sensor leads to me. Today, I ended up with *six* of the suckers. Using a solvent provided by the ER staff, we got the three slapped on by Colma FD, and one of the evil Red Dot patches that was placed on a spot that was mostly hairless. The other two I was going to remove at home.
But first, food. When I seize, I come out of it with three reactions: I'm exhausted, confused, and starving. So we went to Sizzler after I took the work phone back to the guard shack. Good steak. Homeward bound.
Once back home, I headed into the shower while Kirsten called my neurologist and the members of the extended family. I the shower, my attempts to melt the glue met with partial success. I now have several bald, red patches on my chest.
I fucking hate epilepsy. Compared with this disease, everything else about my Hodgkin's has been a walk in the bloody park. I despise the fact that I lose control of my body, that for a few minutes I cease being human and become this twitching animal. Of course, I brought this upon myself.. working 7 days a week, up to 14 hours a day between the guard gig and writing the book, not eating well, and not slowing down when my allergies started hitting me. And it could have been worse... I could have collapsed in the parking lot, or in the middle of Colma Blvd.
So, I'm going to be fuzzy headed for the next 12 hours or so, while my brain unscrambles. It was interesting; when I came to I could smell fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies and taste tacos. There was a clear, bell-like tone in my ears. No weird memory flashes this time.
Re: Memory flashes..
Usually I have complete chunks of memory knocked loose. Like last August when the seizures were getting really bad, I had one and woke up clearly remembering about five minutes of a soccer game I played in when I was eight.