You gotta love that movie, if you don't your childhood makes me a bit sad.
I knew there was something brewing in the brilliant brain of mine. The bitter sweet seems to be that all
the inpatient visits to get a seizure to occur, allowed me to become more in
tune with anything that made me feel off.
I kept having these mental feelings of "um…something bad is going to go
down" and the flashbacks of coming out of a seizure was
creating this sensation that it was real. Just that statement makes me feel
like I'm insane but that's the only way to describe it. There's going to be a
lot of insane moments in this blog and the next few so we might as well get
used to it. I wasn't having clusters, I was still having absent seizures but nothing of concern. It was mostly the sensations that were freaking me the eff out. Then the day would go on as usual.
This went on at random for about a month. Then the day came. Halloween, when I
was scheduled to have the DBS implant surgery, there were a lot of emotions
considering it had been cancelled. At this time, I wasn't working yet so my routine
of being home, going to the gym, watching some TV was just the usual. I hadn't made the trip to the gym yet and my mom had just left to get my sister from school to bring
her home for the weekend. The drive is about an hour each way and had to stop and get my brother from school.
That feeling was
back. Then those bitch clusters began. I laid down on my bed and called my mom.
She put me on Facetime and had me unlock the front door in case she had
to call 911. She watched and listened to me for the hour there and the hour
back. I had taken my emergency med but wasn't doing a damn thing. NOTHING
was stopping this and I knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of
when. It's such a strange feeling to lay there just waiting...and I laid there for about three hours just waiting. Those flashbacks, the feeling of "okay, it'll just be
a few seconds and I'll be back", and nothing happening. It was stalling and I didn't know why. My mom
got home and I was gray and so out of it. She got on the phone with
Constanino's office and they wanted me in and they would admit me. Oh, I was coming in alright. My mom hung up the phone, looked at me and said "They want to
admit….." BAM! Lights out. I was gone.
My mom had been home
for five minutes when that seizure hit. The entire event was so opposite of any seizure before. I was deathly gray before my
seizure, typically I'm death gray during and post tonic-clonic. I've never lost
control of my bladder or thrown up during a seizure, this time I
threw up and began to roll my mouth and nose right into it. I was starting to
suffocate on my own vomit. My mom had to push with all her power to try and
roll me back at least enough for me to breathe. The way I came out of this
seizure was unlike any seizure I have ever had. Perhaps, even being
unconscious, my body knew I was suffocating. That I was about to drown in puke. The
seizure was a little more than four minutes and there was nothing to inject me with
to bring me out if I had gone longer. My post tonic-clonic stage was two minutes.
Typically it's around 8 minutes. There was no daze. I sat straight up and
gasped for air with the most panic I have felt in a very long time. You would
have thought I had seen a ghost with how much fear was in my eyes as I looked
at my mom. My breathing became erratic I started hyperventilating and couldn't
catch my breath at all. My mom had her hands on my arms keeping me far enough
to keep me looking at her while she calmed me down.
There was no way in
hell I should have survived that seizure. I realistically should not be able to talk
about what happened. There were three hours of non-stop clusters reaching the
point of begging and praying for that seizure to hit. Pain is such an understatement to what I was feeling. I was trying to, in a sense, "conjure" that seizure.
If I would just think of how I feel hard enough before going into a seizure
I'll go. No, not at all. Three hours and five minutes to finally go. Those five
minutes are what saved my life. I was five minutes away from a grieving family,
an obituary, and my ashes placed in the ground with Nana and Grandpa. Awe there
they are. The two guardians. I've said many times, I no longer believe in
coincidences after Nana passed. This whole situation is no exception. If
anything it only confirmed further that there is no such thing.
So, after near
death, and regaining my composure, mom and I headed to the hospital. I was sore
as a mother trucker. While waiting in the ER I realized and said "Mom…it's Halloween." Her eyes
opened in amazement and she chuckled "Oh my God! You would have had
surgery today!" Well yes indeed and somehow I managed to end up in the
hospital anyway. I was admitted of course, and was kept through the night. Not
a damn thing. I couldn't get over the irony of the whole thing. Maybe it's not
just a bunch of Hocus Pocus after all.
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