Monday Memories: Did I ever tell you about the first time I had a seizure? I have had seizures for about nine years now. They have become the norm for me; I've almost forgotten what it's like to be seizure-free. =os And it's only been in the last year and a half that I've really come to terms with them, that I've ceased to be angry and resentful at my inability to have any control over them. They come when they come, and the sooner they're over, the sooner I can fet on with my life. I'm lucky though, if I really have to be honest here. They come once or twice a month, on average, in a series of usually one to sometimes four. Rarely do I ever have more than four. When I do, and it's once in twice a blue moon, the most I've ever had is seven. I have what could be considered the mildest form of them; they used to be called absonce seizures, now they're called clonic-tonic?. Even with their so-called mildness, a person still stiffens up and "zones out," sometimes even shaking or mildly thrashing about. With these types of seizures one doesn't, thankfully, lose consciousness. (I have never lost consciousness, though on several occasions, I felt almost close to doing so. And while I slip into "space" and am seemingly unresponsive, I am aware of what is going on around me. I can hear, see and feel.) My first seizure--I know now that's what it was that night because of my countless experiences--happenened mid-January of '94, three days before I had the operation on my left arm and hand to fix the atrophy I had. I was in the front family room with my family, me reading a book and my parents and whoever else was is zee room watching television. Everything seemed fine and then all of a sudden I felt weird. (It's a hard feeling to describe, like your soul and body aren't perfectly aligned anymore, like you're off-kilter. I suddenly couldn't catch my breath and I couldn't hold on to my book anymore. The book dropped from my suddenly helpless, ineffectual fingers, falling heedlessly to zee floor down my legs. I was pulled into a new, unknown and awful world, a world with the population of one. It felt as if invisible waves--like the ones you feel when a physical therapist puts you e-stim (electric-somethinng stimulus)--were washing over my brain, and I could feel myself shake slightly. My parents, nor I had any clue what had happened, what was wrong. It didn't last long, and afterwards my dad took me from the wheelchair and laid me on the couch. For about an hour afterward, I felt off-kilter still. Like it could happen again, and anytime the feeling threatened to overwhelm me I pressed my fist to my forehead harder. That was the beginning. The crazy thing is, I didn't have anymore seizures till 1997! Sure, after my surgery I had panic and anxiety attacks every night till the month of April, but then everything seemed fine again. Normal. Then the seizures started up again three years later. Everyone believed they were just more anxiety or panic attacks. But I knew better, because I'd had those and these sure didn't feel the same! I didn't know what they were though, so I let my grandpa (who's a general practitioner) put me on Prozac. The only difference I noticed in myself was that my emotions had plateaued. I was still having these "attacks" or "episodes" weekly. It wasn't until a friend of mine, who has had seizures since she was 12-years-old, and I were visiting and I was trying to explain to her what was going on with me, that it was figured out. So my care provider--I was in Poky going to ISU at the time--scheduled a doctor's appointment and some tests (an EEG, MRI, CAT scan...). The results of the tests were inclusive; they couldn't figure out the cause or initial trigger for my seizures. =os So, now I'm on Depakote, or Valproic Acid for them, and probably will be for the rest of my life--unless it starts harming my kidneys or a better drug comes along. Oh joy, joy, joy. Links to other Monday Memories (If you participate, leave your link in the comments and I'll post it below)

moon phase