four times i fall down
after a considerable headache.
dropping in the street, at home,
and losing consciousness completely.
waking--after how long?--with my mind
curiously blank, and paramedics round me.
fear tightens in me like a fist:
ballasteros has a tumour!
the fifth time i go down at work.
two hours of tests. eight hours
of waiting, with no visitors.
then a doctor solemnly intones words
that relieve me, and appall:
"you're having seizures mr. hodder.
take epilim. have a brain scan too,
just to rule out deeper causes."
extract from "Southbank" by Bruce Hodder