When something goes wrong, it’s probably natural to go into diagnostic mode to try to fix a problem and prevent it from happening in the future. When the dishwasher finishes washing, and there’s a pile of gunk in the bottom, it’s a fair bet the drain is clogged. Cleaning out the drain and making sure the garbage disposal is clear before running it again prevents a nasty recurrence. Machines are a much easier thing to fix than humans because there are far fewer variables. In case you’re wondering, I’m no dishwasher.
After I had my first seizure, I went on search for a reason and also a way to prevent it from happening again. About the only thing I could come up with that is somewhat in my control is my sleep habits. I had been severely sleep deprived in the weeks leading up to it, so I made an effort to get sleep whenever I felt tired – even if that meant in the middle of the day. I normally keep myself awake during the day in an attempt to ensure I’ll actually sleep at night, but even powering through the extreme daytime tiredness did very little to help me sleep at night, so I’ve started sleeping whenever I can fall asleep. It’s not ideal, but neither is insomnia.
I fell asleep some time after 4 this morning, and was awakened by a ‘jolt’ and had a feeling deep in my gut that something bad was going to happen (there’s that feeling of impending doom again!). I was incredibly nauseated and felt the call of the bathroom. Getting out of bed is a whole lot of work. If the blood isn’t flowing, and I don’t work my leg and ankle joints before putting weight on my feet, I’m apt to fall directly on my ass. The risk of blowing chunks all over the bedroom outweighed the possibility of falling all over myself. I sprung out of bed, and without even putting my boot on, I tried to make a break for the bathroom. The rest is a nasty mess of vomit, piss, and weirdly placed bruises.
I didn’t make it very far – maybe three steps – before I fell. I don’t even remember falling. When I pass out, I know it’s going to happen. My ears start to buzz, and my vision narrows. That gives me time to sit down before I fall down. I’m about 95% sure this was another seizure, although I don’t have the benefit of a witness this time because he was still in bed. I have no idea how much time elapsed, only that it was dark when I got scared awake, and light when I had any sort of idea what had happened. It’s the confusion I feel afterward that’s the most troubling part, followed by damage control and clean up. I made one hell of a mess this morning. Of myself, and of the floor. I bruised my left hip and boob, how? I must have fallen into the door jam, then bounced off backwards. I don’t even think a seasoned crime scene investigator could have figured out how it happened. It’s the sort of physics magic only I’m capable of.
It’s scary and frustrating. Given that I felt okay about an hour after it happened, save for nausea and a headache, I decided a trip to the hospital would be subjecting myself to unnecessary torture. My neuro appointment isn’t for another three weeks, and I’m honestly not expecting much assistance there. I’ll probably have to go back on gabapentin and stay on it, despite the side effects. Baaaaalls. Oh, and I forgot to mention last week – its been so long since my av access surgery request was ordered that I can’t schedule a new date until I see my nephrologist again. I swear these people are driving me mad. So many hoops, too little energy.
I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, because it’s how Kara do. And sometimes she adds a double-bird, because fuck all.