Monday, December 01, 2008

When The Going Gets Weird

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.

5 comments:

All This Trouble... said...

I like that. First Fit Clinic.

*sigh*

All the cool folks have seizures. Don't worry. I mean, really, don't worry. They'll fix you right up with an anti-convulsant and on the upside, they use those meds for mood stablilization and such here in the States. It could help the depressive episodes, too.

Pssssst...I've had a couple of seizures, too and so far, no brain tumor. I'll be thinking of you.

tom said...

well, hopefully you've petite mall in the past and now the t-c (can't think of what the name is) has got you into the doc - my daughter has had epilepsy since she was 11 - all of her friends have been very understanding and depakote has kept it under control - she still doesn't play video games with flickering lights and she won't drive - these probably won't set anything off with her on meds - but she still is wary of them

and don't worry - we won't think of you any differently than before

on a more somber note - did you hear that Dave Church was found dead in his taxi on Thanksgiving day - last thursday - they think it was a heart attack - he was a year younger than i am - makes me stop and think -

take care

Bruce Hodder said...

Tom,
No, I didn't hear the news about Dave Church. Jesus, what a poet he was...

Sudden death kind of puts all our other anxieties into perspective...

Bruce Hodder said...

Yeah, ATT, if the tablets help with the depressive episodes things'll really be looking up. I hope I hear from them soon so I can get the diagnosis sorted out. In the meantime I'm just working on relaxing, eating as healthily as I can, and meditating regularly. Good housekeeping, as it were. I don't know if any of that will help, but it certainly can't hurt...

Anonymous said...

Going to a clinic named "First Fit Clinic" to have a diagnosis made seems rather odd. If it turns out that you haven't had a fit, then you haven't had a first one, so why are you there? The very name of the clinic is a very suppositious one. Or is it me being pedantic?

Simon H