Seized.
In my last year of law school, I was driving to grab a bite to eat from Wendy's when I had a seizure - and blacked out. I hit my head against the steering wheel, and thankfully during the 'fit' I managed to slam the gear shift into park and halfway jumped a curb. Somehow during the madness, I bit my tongue rather forcefully - almost straight through it - and my mouth was full of blood. Thankfully I was on a side street - and I managed to coast slowly into a gas station where I promptly fainted. I got a nice sized bump on the head from the fainting spell - but was otherwise o.k.
When I finally made my way back to school - I walked in to Michael's office and told him what happened. He wanted to go to the hospital immediately, but I begged him not to take me. We went home instead, and I promptly fell asleep for about fifteen straight hours. I went to a cardiologist the next day - and was immediately whisked from specialist to specialist. The next few days were a blur of EKGs, EEGs, x-rays, MRIs, and a great deal of bloodletting to check on blood sugar imbalances, hormones, etc.
During the doctor's visits - I realized that I've always had these little "spells." Growing up, my great grandmother said someone was walking over my grave when I did it. Sometimes I could feel them coming on, but not always. When I did, they were preceded by a tightness and pain in my chest - and a feeling of pressure as if I was being crushed. Afterward, there was always a peculiar metal taste in my mouth and an overwhelming desire to immediately go to sleep.
Sometimes - when they are really bad - my arms flail out and I will involuntarily strike out at someone. It can be quite embarassing at times - sort of a physical Tourettes. I remembered driving to Florida from Texas when I whacked my sister in the front seat of the car. She looked at me stunned - and asked "What the hell was that for?" I wish I could have simply told her. I didn't know.
Milder versions cause me to just space out a little. I can hear people talking around me - but their voices sound very far away - like the muffled conversations of people living in the next apartment drifting through air vents.
During one of the trips to the neurologist, after another brain scan, the doctor told us that in all likelihood that it was epilepsy or multiple sclerosis. I sobbed. Michael cried. It was the one - and only time that I've ever seen him cry. No swimming, no bathing or showering without the door open and someone in the bathroom with me, no driving, no cooking, no being alone - period - under any circumstances for nearly four and a half months. I couldn't do anything. And I felt awful. I felt like a failure as a wife. I was only 23, and my husband was being forced to care for me like I was an old woman. It was heartbreaking. And then the doctor told us that we shouldn't try to have children. I needed to go back on the pill.
I was poked and prodded and sent to every specialist they could find. They ruled out epilepsy and we rejoiced. They ruled out m.s. and we cried with joy. But they never found out what the problem is. Stress, exhaustion and alcohol seemed to exacerbate the problem. Of course, since I was studying for the bar at the time, two of the three were a little difficult to control (and in fact I had a 'medium' seizure during the middle of the exam).
I have never had another grand mal seizure like that. I have had hundreds of other - small ones - but have accepted it as part of who I am. They seem to cluster at a time - and it's been a while since I've had one. I was told that I could slowly start incorporating my "regular" life back into my schedule. You have no idea the bliss of being able to shower in privacy. Of just driving to work - even in traffic.
I would never go into deep water alone. I would never drive extremely long distances alone. I stay away from excess alcohol and try to get plenty of sleep.
I should go back for more tests, but I am afraid. I am afraid that they will tell me it is something awful - something debilitating and untreatable - something I'm unwilling to recognize.
Three days ago I started having crushing pain in my chest that seems to ebb and flow. As this is how the really bad one before started, I didn't drive all weekend, and I took the train to work this a.m. I don't need this right now.
But I need answers. I keep calling the doctor's office - but somehow I just do not seem to be able to push the last digit. I don't want to give this up again. I can't.
I am really afraid.
When I finally made my way back to school - I walked in to Michael's office and told him what happened. He wanted to go to the hospital immediately, but I begged him not to take me. We went home instead, and I promptly fell asleep for about fifteen straight hours. I went to a cardiologist the next day - and was immediately whisked from specialist to specialist. The next few days were a blur of EKGs, EEGs, x-rays, MRIs, and a great deal of bloodletting to check on blood sugar imbalances, hormones, etc.
During the doctor's visits - I realized that I've always had these little "spells." Growing up, my great grandmother said someone was walking over my grave when I did it. Sometimes I could feel them coming on, but not always. When I did, they were preceded by a tightness and pain in my chest - and a feeling of pressure as if I was being crushed. Afterward, there was always a peculiar metal taste in my mouth and an overwhelming desire to immediately go to sleep.
Sometimes - when they are really bad - my arms flail out and I will involuntarily strike out at someone. It can be quite embarassing at times - sort of a physical Tourettes. I remembered driving to Florida from Texas when I whacked my sister in the front seat of the car. She looked at me stunned - and asked "What the hell was that for?" I wish I could have simply told her. I didn't know.
Milder versions cause me to just space out a little. I can hear people talking around me - but their voices sound very far away - like the muffled conversations of people living in the next apartment drifting through air vents.
During one of the trips to the neurologist, after another brain scan, the doctor told us that in all likelihood that it was epilepsy or multiple sclerosis. I sobbed. Michael cried. It was the one - and only time that I've ever seen him cry. No swimming, no bathing or showering without the door open and someone in the bathroom with me, no driving, no cooking, no being alone - period - under any circumstances for nearly four and a half months. I couldn't do anything. And I felt awful. I felt like a failure as a wife. I was only 23, and my husband was being forced to care for me like I was an old woman. It was heartbreaking. And then the doctor told us that we shouldn't try to have children. I needed to go back on the pill.
I was poked and prodded and sent to every specialist they could find. They ruled out epilepsy and we rejoiced. They ruled out m.s. and we cried with joy. But they never found out what the problem is. Stress, exhaustion and alcohol seemed to exacerbate the problem. Of course, since I was studying for the bar at the time, two of the three were a little difficult to control (and in fact I had a 'medium' seizure during the middle of the exam).
I have never had another grand mal seizure like that. I have had hundreds of other - small ones - but have accepted it as part of who I am. They seem to cluster at a time - and it's been a while since I've had one. I was told that I could slowly start incorporating my "regular" life back into my schedule. You have no idea the bliss of being able to shower in privacy. Of just driving to work - even in traffic.
I would never go into deep water alone. I would never drive extremely long distances alone. I stay away from excess alcohol and try to get plenty of sleep.
I should go back for more tests, but I am afraid. I am afraid that they will tell me it is something awful - something debilitating and untreatable - something I'm unwilling to recognize.
Three days ago I started having crushing pain in my chest that seems to ebb and flow. As this is how the really bad one before started, I didn't drive all weekend, and I took the train to work this a.m. I don't need this right now.
But I need answers. I keep calling the doctor's office - but somehow I just do not seem to be able to push the last digit. I don't want to give this up again. I can't.
I am really afraid.
posted by April at 2:50 PM
2 Comments:
Okay. I don't have any idea what you're going through on the seizure thing so I'm not even going to pretend that I do.
What I *do* identify with, however is not wanting to call a doctor. I don't know what to tell you about that. I suppose being married, it's hard to just go without him knowing. (That's what I did--just went. Still haven't told the fam what's going on.)
In any case, I'm sending hugs. And if you smack me, I'm smackin' you back. :-p
Boss...
I think you need to go shooting. I did it today and it's the best thing I have ever done. You'll exit betwixt a wicked mingle-- exhilirated and relaxed-- and all your seizures and all your worries will be gone... even if only temporarily.
Cheers,
jojo
PS - I dont have your email, champ.
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