If you didn’t read about why you shouldn’t look at your brain scan without your doctor, yesterday, check it out in Part 11.
Doc Neuro also offered to prescribe an anti-convulsive. I looked them up on Google, by name, naturally. They all have possible side effects. They don’t negatively affect everyone. For those whom they work, they seem to work really well. For others, they have some nasty side effects, usually mentally and emotionally. Weighing risks, it was a gamble one way or another.
Jennifer had told our tribe over the internet about my situation. Shortly thereafter, we decided it was time to take a trip to Texas to visit some of them. The town we visit, we meet up with LawDog, Phlegmmy, Peter, Miss D., and Old NFO. It’s a Branch Dividian type setup. The only reason that I say that, though, is that I’m just jealous that I don’t have a house on their block. It was a cathartic trip. LawDog hugged me tight and proclaimed, “Evyl, you had me so scared!” All weekend, he kept citing the statistic, “one in twenty people will have a random seizure, at some point in their live.”
Later, I was standing in front of Old NFO’s house, enjoying tobacco, and he interjected, “you has us all scared.”
To which I responded, “You think YOU were scared? Nobody was more scared than me!” *Insert laughter, puff tobacco.*
*Statically, as I understand it, a full five percent of the population will have a seizure at one time or another. There are ages when this is likely: early childhood, mid-life, and then elderly. It seems that I’m in that mid-life category. So, instead of getting a hot, young girlfriend and a new sports car, I got a seizure! Yay, me!
*Once you have a seizure, you have a 50/50 chance of having another one in the next six months. This is why you can’t legally drive for six months in Oklahoma (and many other states). For those six months, you’re a seizure risk. While I was not driving, I was cycling, and I pretty much stuck to sidewalks that had grass between them and the road. The last thing I wanted was to convulsively eject myself into traffic in front of a speeding truck. And, since I had my son with me most of the time, that would serve the added bonus of scarring him for life for seeing my demise played out as such.
*Two years is the home plate. Statistically, by the time you hit two years, your chances of having another seizure have gone down to 10%. Granted, that’s twice as likely as the general population’s 5%, but it’s odds that sound good enough that I’ll take and call it normal. A couple weeks after the event, my mom messaged me and asked me when I “would be clear” so she “could stop worrying.” Heh. I told her that she may as well stop worrying now, because “in the clear” is going to be in two years, and that’s relative, even then.
As I wrote before, that weekend I felt beat up, but I was functional. It was in the next few weeks that the weird stuff started up. I was tired all the time; downright exhausted. Two or three days a week, I could nap during the day. I’ve never been a ‘nap person.’ But, I’d get tired and put in six to eight hours of sleep during the day. And then, I’d still sleep all night. One day, Jennifer got home from work and I didn’t hear her arrive. I didn’t wake up until she came into our bedroom.
I said, “oh, did you get off work early?”
And, she said, “Um, no. It’s 6:30.”
“In the morning?”
“What day is this?”
I’ve heard from other people who have had seizures that this is not at all uncommon. At this point, I feel like I could sleep much like that, but I don’t feel like I need to anymore, which is a relief. Jennifer told me that if I need to sleep like that, please do, but also please give her a heads-up, so she’s prepared and doesn’t have an excuse to assume worse. Fair enough.
The word from Doc Neuro was that my brain looks normal. EEG, EKG, MRI, MRI with contrast, CT, CT with contrast all came out great. Don’t spend all your money in one place, right?
Tomorrow, we end the series in Part 13.