Dwight Saves the Day

 I kind of felt okay yesterday morning. How could I not feel good inside a warm and toasty home on a wet day, blessed with the presence of my beloveds. However, I kept closing my eyes when I first got up. It was as though I wanted the world to go away, so I went back to bed. 

I didn’t sleep, I just revelled in the dark and warmth of my bed. When I got up again, I showered and then decided to take Sheba for a walk, and whoa, that brought on a big change. Driving my car is disturbing. At times I felt nauseous, at times I felt I would cry, and when I got home, I was back to feeling very rough. Driving was an eye-opening experience; if confirmed my experience of Saturday when the same thing happened. 

Now, I don’t want to drive. The message I’m getting from my body/mind, is to stay home. No surprise there I suppose. But it makes it clear to me that my nervous system is shot; I feel as I did after my breakdown in 2016. I thought I was supposed to get better! I consider this a relapse.

I felt shitty after driving. Not long after getting home, I had a seizure and it left me in an intense state, unable to talk to the pets. By 10:00, I’d had a second seizure and life felt like April 2016 all over again. Shizah! I was in a very bad state, so I called Dwight. (He’s called while I was out walking Sheba.) And he’s going to call every day. I’m very happy about that because talking to him brought be out of the dark.

I got on the chaise and watched a movie. I wanted to watch something light to take my mind out of the darkness, and it worked. I felt better and not like I would seize again any minute. So, I watched another movie. Right now, reading isn’t working for me; movies let me rot on the couch while I watch.

When 14:00 arrived, it was time for another walk. I was worried about driving and having another anxiety attack. But she needs to walk, so off we went with fingers crossed. Once back, I knew I was home for the rest of the day and that felt good. And I didn’t feel myself to be in danger of another deep dive into the darkness. But in the evening, twice I had sudden jerks: one, a full body jerk, the other, just my arms. 

What disturbs me the most, is the state of mind I was in this morning. It was an all-encompassing and dark place, leading up to the seizures. The whole experience has me not want to go anywhere, except for my prescriptions and shopping. I’m learning how to live with anxiety in extremis. I’m terrified of driving, I’ve hurt myself flinging my arms about unbidden, and I’ve lived the darkest short mind-set I’ve ever experienced. It’s the worst, I can say that, because you don’t know why it’s happening and it’s so intense.

Today was day four of life that is scaring me and forcing me to change my lifestyle. I do not feel I understand this new way of being me well enough to risk going out to visit someone. I’ve decided to lay-low until I see Dr. Shoja. Although, I want to see her every minute of the day right now, the delay allows me time to monitor symptoms and to keep a diary. My appointment is exactly three weeks from the seizure.

As I said, I’m afraid of the dark spells. I’ve realized that I need a response strategy. During the second seizure today, I was able to slow my breathing. Hyperventilating happens a lot with me when I seize. I close my eyes and focus on being calm. That’s the best I can do. 

My magic hour is 16:00. Our day begins between 4:00 and 5:00, so at 16:00, I feed the pets and make myself a huge salad. Then it’s onto the chaise with a movie at 55”. Woo hoo. The working day is over and it’s feet-up until bed. That’s when I had the two large spasms.

What that means for me: If I have sudden violent spasms while I’m in my home and relaxed on my chaise, my own personal nest, then going out is only for essentials: food, drugs and dog walks. House arrest: level three.

I have a certain ‘game over’ feeling this time. I’ve always been a fighter when it has come to a medical challenge, but this new gig scares me. All though I stuttered and had seizures, I was still me until the big one last Thursday. Who I am now is feels vastly different in my mind and personality.

•

So … here comes day five. It’s 7:00 am, and so far, so good!

Last Night I watched London Road. The script is made up of actual dialogue from the media and the hearings and trial, but the vast majority of the text comes from community meetings as residents struggle to save their neighbourhood and sanity after a neighbour kills five women in their area.

I think National Theatre shows its greatest strengths as majestic theatrical storytellers when they create an original script as is done here, and in Jane Eyre. London Road is a musical, an incredibly brilliantly presented musical.

I’ve been watching plays each night since the killer seizure. No art form speaks to me as theatre does. It’s been the major passion of my life; watching it is therapy for my damaged soul.

Still No Joy

What a journey I’ve been on since my breakdown in April 2016. The seizure from Hell last Thursday is feeling like a second breakdown. I feel as I did back in 2016 after the first one. I am burning with a desire to know what the fuck has happened. That’s always first on my mind. What happened? Knowing what’s happened calms me, but I won’t get any insight until Nov. 12 when I see Dr. S.

I want to see Dr. S. so, so badly, and I want to feel better. I’m in a one day at a time mind set. I hope I can get back to being happy and joyful. I took Sheba for a walk in the rain at Rollo Park, thinking we’d carry on to the pharmacy so I could pick up some Lorazepam. Sheba was keen to walk. I was not. I couldn’t get home fast enough. The Lorazepam could wait. I did not like driving at all. I felt very vulnerable and uncomfortable and that is how I felt about driving after my breakdown in 2016.

I wrote to Steve and David, two dear friends I often FaceTime with, to tell them not to call. I feel better staying on my own and staying at home. Because sleep or just lying down and keeping my eyes closed is so appealing, it was not easy to stay asleep through the night. But I didn’t care. I was happy to be in bed, cozy and warm and free from the angst of living.

I went to bed early, shocked and ashamed of my province for electing a Conservative super majority even though the party has been in shambles for years. Sigh. The nicest part of waking up this morning was my morning cuddle with Sheba. She has been doing so well, and she just got a lovely new haircut, so cuddling with her is a tremendous delight.

I fed the brood and lit a nice big roaring fire. It was 8° at 5:00 and it’s overcast. We had rain all day yesterday and more is expected today and for much of the coming week. We haven’t had rain like we may have all this week in a very long time. Once the fire was raging, I went back to bed. My eyes want to be closed as much as possible.

I still feel the same, but I thought of my foot and it gave me hope. Over a year ago, my heel swelled up and became painful—very painful at times. I changed my walk to keep it from hurting, and I’ve been awaiting minor surgery since last February. Well, the lump is still there, but I’ve become accustomed to it and I hardly ever think about it. The pain is minimal unless I bump my lump into something. I’m feeling confident that slowly, I will adjust to the dark force that has hit me, and I’ll get used to being this person who’s not joyful, and my joy may slowly build back up.

I’ve had AIDS, I have severe asthma and I’ve had a breakdown, but I’ve never given up or given into my illnesses. I’ve been a fighter and carried on. It feels good right now, to know that and that this, too, shall pass.

But first, I must get through another day. My Day.

Chris is Missing

The good news: Sheba walked like old times at Rollo Park in the morning, and in the afternoon, she was a trooper walking the Elder Cedar trail. It might have made me very happy were it not for the other news.

The other news: I was a zombie all day. MY feet shuffled along the ground; I had not the energy to life them. My face felt flat and expressionless all day. All I wanted to do was sleep. I had a spa, but my eyes were closed the entire time; I wanted to sleep.

Some plants needed watering but there was no way that I was taking anything on. Instead, I checked the weather and saw that rain was expected today and for the coming two days, so I saw no need to push myself. I soothed myself and kept myself from worrying by believing that today I’d feel better. 

More Good News: Sheba walked the Elder Cedar trail in the early afternoon. Today, Sheba spent the day in great form. I am concluding that our future will change day to day. Half-way through our walk, I sensed a slight improvement in me. I will know if I talk to someone. I’d love to run into a friend and see what happens.

I find it terribly difficult to name feelings often. I understand a lot of feelings such as jealousy, hunger, love, anger; I have a decent emotional vocabulary. But most of the feelings I’ve had, often in extremis, that I cannot name. This comes up often with Dr. S. 

I feel flat, numb, detached, sad. I’ve always been a happy person. I’ve been one for repartee. All my adult life I’ve harboured a catty bitch within, whenever I said what she would say, I cock my hip, and I take a big drag on an imaginary cigarette while holding two fingers across my mouth. Her best line ever is one shed say to anyone who criticised her: “If that had come from someone I respect, I’d pay attention. But you!”

I am extremely uncomfortable around anger, even if it is not directed at me. It doesn’t surprise me given my past with Don. I’m a runner, not a fighter. I think that may be partly why I used my quick wit to make people laugh.

That part of me died yesterday. I don’t feel inclined to accept invitations, and I have a dinner with friends Monday evening. I’m not sure at this point what I am going to do about that. I’ll see how today goes.

The sadness I feel isn’t attached to anything at all. I have no idea why I feel very, modestly sad. Flat. I feel very tired. I want to sleep, so I took naps. I function, but my joy of life feels gone. There! That’s how I feel: Like the joy of life is gone.

My love of my pets thrives, thank goodness. I maintain the fire. I can do what needs to be done, but the Summer will be challenging if I don’t snap out of this.

This doesn’t feel like a symptom, but how would I know. Three weeks to Dr. S.

I smelled a flower. That made me feel good. So, that’s good.

I’m discovering a new personality. That has begun. I am going to sleep tonight hoping I awaken as myself again. This has never ever happened to me before.

The way I feel now, there is no fucking way I would do what I did last Saturday. I could not be a performer feeling as I do. I don’t feel optimistic about talking to friends. I fear I’ve lost my desire to converse.

I called Dwight. He has my power of representation. There are three options: slow recovery, permanence, and getting worse. I called Dwight. I wanted to see what would happen. I told him the whole story like a dead man. My head hung low, and I talked funny, a voce without variance, low and like an old dying man. But I could speak. Slowly, flatly, dully, and with my eyes closed. But I could speak. And I didn’t stutter. I didn’t stutter.

He’s going to stay in touch. That’ll help me stay sane until I see Dr. S. in three weeks. Dwight is my rock. Dr. S. is my safety net. I don’t panic; I wait. I’m glad it isn’t summertime. I could not handle watering the gardens right now.

I keep the place warm. Sadly, I don’t want to read.

Something is mighty wrong.

Stay tuned….

•

The rain has started. It may last today, tonight and tomorrow. I’m very happy to see my garden beds get a good drink. 

I promised Dwight I’d call him at 9:00, or shortly thereafter. I don’t have good news. I’ve been feeling very dark. I cancelled my visit to neighbours today, and my Monday night date for dinner with other friends. I’ve also written to Aidan telling him I’m taking time off for a bit. My new depressed personality is still here. Que sera, sera.

I’ve written again to Dr. S. asking if I can write to her periodically until our appointment. I said I don’t expect her to read my emails; she can do that when my appointment date comes. But I feel better writing to her. It lessens my fears.

I feel very vulnerable. I fear another massive seizure when I am here alone. I am going into the village to fetch Lorazepam that was prescribed in the clinic. It seemed to help me get out of the seizure. I will feel safer having some on hand.

Today’s going to be a long and hard day.

Doomsday

Thursday was a dreadful.

I had an 8:00 appointment at the dentist to go to and then a very important Zoom meeting with SPACE members about fundraising at 10:00. I went early to the dentist appointment so that I could walk Sheba a little around the fields surrounding the clinic building where the dentist offices are.

I was called in at 8:00 sharp. I really like the charming and beautiful dental hygienist who cleans my teeth, and I love my dentist. I also love the reclining chair and watching TV while the hygienist works. All was going very well, until it wasn’t.

At about 8:30, I needed to cough, and so the hygienist stopped working on me. Then I started having a seizure and it was the most violent seizure that I have ever had. It was about 8:30 when it started, and it kept getting worse and worse and more violent, so they ushered the other patient out of the office and all the office staff got involved in trying to keep me restrained and on the chair. 

As the seizure went on and on, I was struggling against the restrainers. By back was arching and as it went on, all my muscles started really hurting me. I could hear, but I was non-responsive. When I wasn’t seizing, I lay there staring straight ahead unable to move my eyes or any part of my body.

They called a doctor down from the clinic upstairs, and she called 911. The two paramedics who came were Derrick and Christine. Both are friends of mine. As things continued, I could hear, but I could not respond. I could not move my eyes to focus on anything, nor could I move any muscles of my body. 

I was dead weight, so Chrstine and Dereck had to struggle to get me onto a gurney. My dear dentist took my hands and said king encouraging words, just as Derrick and Christine were doing, but then she kissed my hand and she said she loved me. I was very moved by that, but I couldn’t even move my eyes to look at her.

Once on the gurney, I was put into the ambulance, and it drove me all of thirty meters to the clinic treatment room upstairs. There, I was restrained with straps and given Lorazepam. Slowly, slowly, I started improving. First, I could make eye contact with Dr. Thorne. Then I started signing to Christine who knows ASL, and soon I was saying single words. On my iPhone, I opened my contacts to Eoin and François whom they called to come to fetch me. 

Eoin got my car going and drove me and Sheba home. François followed and he picked up Eoin here and they left. I immediately got online to the Zoom meeting where I was in a daze, but I could listen to everyone.

The rest of the day was very odd. I had an eye patch on from damage I did to my eye when I was seizing, and I just lay all day on the chaise. I had no appetite, no energy, and I felt very woozy. My cluster seizure lasted from 8:30 until 10:10, and I was terrified all through it that I would be like that forever.

All my muscles are strung tight during my seizure, so my muscles were aching and cramping by the time I was in the clinic. Once at home, I ate small meals and had more Clonazepam; Sheba walked herself in the yard. I did not feel myself all day.

I don’t see Dr. S. for three more weeks, but I wrote to tell her what happened. She is going to call me in earlier if there is a cancellation before she goes on holiday.

Today, thankfully, I have no Zoom calls, and no meetings. I get the entire day to myself. I have some SPACE homework I can do, but I may leave it to the weekend as I am still feeling spaced out from yesterday. I may just laze the day away.