Ah, yes, and it has certainly done that just lately. I get suspended from work for putting a joke on my Facebook page, and then I fall over again in town--outside Waterstone's, ironically--am taken to hospital, have a load of tests run including blood and ECG, and they conclude I've probably had a seizure. NOW I have to go to something with the rather ignominious name of a "First Fit Clinic" to have the diagnosis confirmed or denied.
But I'm pretty sure that's what it is. I have worked with epileptics for most of my adult life; I know the signs. And last night I had another one, while I was lying in bed. Woke up on the floor again with a headache, and blisters and flayed skin on my arms. As I have joked to friends a couple of times, I'm just glad I haven't wet myself. So far. The way things have been going I wouldn't take anything for granted (my humour is dark, I know, but in some circumstances it has to be).
People (not experts) have blamed the stress I've been under this past week for what's happened. They may have a point, though I've been having weird experiences akin to absences for years, on and off, and I've just never done anything about them. I wish I had now, but I was scared. I prefer to pretend things aren't happening until they go away--which of course they never do.
Well, I can't pretend this isn't happening; and that may be a good thing. I hope I get to the clinic soon and they give me some tablets to bring these episodes under control. I am reminded, as I look at the blisters on my arms, of Ballasteros the golfer, who fainted unaccountably and then was found to have a brain tumour. It could, of course, be that. And if it is, I think, with dark humour again, that my problems'll be over. But epilepsy is more likely.
And if that turns out to be the problem, I just have to get used to a life of people treating me like I'm sick.What joy. The consideration people have given me over the last few days has made me really uncomfortable, in a funny sort of way.