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being nessasary

a quirky look into being

I am once again going to challenge myself to post more on my beloved blog.  I am going to try to use the NaBloPoMo theme as much as I can.  The theme is “Sprout,” which is a word I happen to fancy for its many symbolic interpretations (and the word happens to be really cute).

I am delighted to announce that nothing has sprouted in my brain since the last time I wrote.  I had a squeaky clean MRI this past Monday.  I find myself less afraid of cancer, but more concerned with my residual epilepsy.  I have experienced two seizures since January.  To clarify, what you may or may not know, seizures come in several different categories.  The ones I now have are called, partial complex, which means crazy electric sparks are going on in the right side of my brain, but not enough to peer pressure the left side into the doing the electric slide. In turn, I get an aura (not the cool mystical energy color kind of aura, but more of a warning sign) which tells me in bizarre ways that something is not right – typically an desperate inability to find a thought/form a word and a rush of heat up and down the left side of my body.  At that point I find the closest place I can comfortably lay for 30 to 40 minutes while the electrical disturbance does its thing. 

The seize involved a good amount of paralysis in my left hemisphere – I can actually recognize my body’s invisible line between left and right.  I have an uncomfortable amount of  the pins and needles sensation (kind of like the stinging you get at the epicenter of an Indian Burn).  My left hand will open and close on its own, and my leg will do a bit of twitching.  It is a bit difficult to breathe and keep my heart from wanting to escape to a less toxic place.  Oh, and I do a great deal of drooling (I happened to have one of these seizures on “clean sheet day.”  I was more annoyed by that than the fact I was having a seizure).

I can talk about it in a feather-light manner, but in reality it is scary.  I hardly have control.   The first one I experienced this year I happened to be alone.  I was reading in bed when it hit.  Nothing crazy was going on around me (except that the book is about human cadavers).  The seizure lasted about 40 minutes.  I spent the time thinking of happy places, saying The Lord’s Prayer over and over again (I find a lot of comfort in it, mostly because of my experiences at Waycross Camp), and convincing myself that my friends and family that have moved on from this life were in the room with me.  I handled it the best I could considering I hadn’t had one in over a year.

I called my parents crying afterward (which tends to happen once things settle down and my emotions are able to take over), and managed to hobble my way to my kitchen. My left side’s paralysis and weakness does not just vanish – it hangs out for a couple of days.  I downed some delicious migraine medicine and slept for 16 hours or so.

I have now been to the neurologist and been put on even more meds.  To be brief, it means I may be completely ignored by zombies if they do decide to take over the world in 2012.

So is the life of this particular bran cancer survivor.  Maybe it is because I am little, maybe its because Mr. Tumey left a will stating that I must suffer because he was torn from his home, and his children were killed in an violent chemical and nuclear war.  It’s a mystery.

But it is all part of life.  We all have our battles – maybe it is balancing a life as a single mother of three, being a social worker in the inner city, or surviving the perils of being a middle school bus driver – whatever.  The best thing we can do to deal is to be a bit crazy and appreciative that we are here for our short bit of time to experience the green arms of a daffodil in the gray of March reaching for sunshine like a child does his mother (or Elmo).

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