The River Denial

Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I was away from my computer enjoying Christmas and soon the new year. Last post I took a little detour from my story and told you a little about my nana because of the influence she had on me during this period of my life. I think now is the time I start talking about how I tried to deal with everything on my own. Yes, I mean on my own. As much as I love and cherish my family at that point in my life my trust issues where much larger than they are now and I didn't trust them either. I felt I had to fight this one on my own.
The medication my doctor gave me knocked me out for a good forty eight hours while my body adjusted to the new medication. After my body adjusted I don't remember any lasting side affects as this particular medication wasn't at a strong dose yet. I hated taking my meds because it was a reminder of the incident and I didn't like thinking about it. I was good about taking my meds though. I didn't want to risk any chances of a repeat incident.
My friends had finally picked up that what had happened was a topic that was off limits. That it was something I didn't enjoy talking about let alone thinking about. To make sure the topic didn't come up again I distracted them with a horror story I had been working on. Something I have since thrown away. Of all the stories I write horror stories are the ones I hate to share because there more for me personally than to entertain a possible reader. Horror stories of mine are me putting all my rage and frustration onto paper. I kill everything and everyone I'm angry at in those stories so I wasn't thrilled about showing them "The Christmas Killer" but it got them to forget about what had happened.
In case your wondering that particular story was written when I was still angry at a lot of people and at God himself. At the time I didn't want to celebrate Christmas I wanted to destroy it. I didn't want people to know that though so I wrote the story which disappeared shortly after it was finished. When I was around people who cared for me and vice verse I put on my happy mask and I got really good at it.
So things seemed to get a little better after. Things were going well with friends and I had actually begun to forget that I just might be a ticking time bomb.

That didn't last long though. One day after coming back from checking out a contemporary church I was sitting on the couch eating leftover apple pancake. I was a bit tired because I hadn't slept well the night before. The next thing I knew I was on the floor and confused. I also remember being upset that my apple pancake was gone. I had my heart on finishing that. I had saved it just for me. I don't remember much of this episode, but what I do know is that it marked a wake up call for me. That this wasn't over and it wasn't something that I could just ignore. I was going to have to find a way to deal with it.

Childhood Heros

Everyone needs someone to look up to. Someone strong and that truly shines when they themselves are going through rough times. For me that person was extremely important to me. This person was a shining example to me of how someone should endure the tough times. This person had an extremely powerful faith and despite all she endured with her health and in her past she found reasons to smile and laugh. She was never angry and spiteful like I was at least not that I saw. My nana was my childhood hero and even when I grew to old to really have a hero she still continued to be that for me.
She had every reason to be angry at God. She had a past that  could make one heck of a novel that would leave you on the edge of your seat. For a long time my family didn't believe a lot of her stories to be true until we came across a historical novel that backed everything up. She carried her mother on her back and walked with her sibling to Korea or China. It's been awhile since I heard the story. She refused to cut her hair at the buddhist temple and was taken in by christian missionaries and became a devout catholic. She had to be married three times before the United States would accept her marriage to my Pap.
She was blessed with a husband who loved her and three wonderful children who would give her grandchildren. Grandchildren that she loved to spoil with food and tell her stories to while cooking in the kitchen. When I knew her she fought an ongoing battle with diabetes and Macnia Gravas (sorry about the spelling) a battle she fought for a long time.
During her healthier years you really wouldn't have known. She wasn't going to let it slow her down. She took her meds and did her best to stay healthy. She was one of the strongest women I've ever known. When my epilepsy began it was to her I looked up to. I looked to her as an example of how to deal with all the crap that comes your way without falling apart. For awhile I thought faith and dealing with things were two complete separate things, but in watching her I learned that wasn't true. I learned that she dealt so well not just because she had a loving family willing to support her, but because she gave what she could not control to God.
Telling about my nana is important because honestly if I hadn't had her example to look up to I might not be the person I am today. I might not have the faith I have today. I most certainly would not have come out the other end of my ordeal in one piece. I'm sure that it would have broken me if I had not stopped and wondered how my nana did it.  My nana is a major reason my soul is saved today and I look forward to the day I can thank her in heaven. LOVE YOU NANA!

Crazy Doctor Visit

Before I go into the doctor's visit there is something that needs to be mentioned about my epilepsy before I continue. The seizure I told you about previously was not my first seizure. I don't feel the need to write about my first seizure in detail because I was a toddler and remember nothing. What I do know is that the medication they put me on phenobarbital seriously put me behind in the learning area of things. 
So on with the story. So first of all my mom took care of all the scheduling of doctor's appointments and all that. One because I was like thirteen and two I didn't want to be involved. The less I thought about it the better. So I was more than a little annoyed when I discovered my friend Alice had already spread the word to everyone I knew in school of what happened. The plan had been to pretend like nothing happened, but apparently seeing me have the seizure really freaked her out. So I guess telling everyone was her way of dealing with what she witnessed.
I don't remember when the doctor's visit was scheduled, but I do remember what I expected when going to the neurologist for the first time. I expected the usual doctor's office with magazines that are too old to really enjoy reading. A couple of tv's and even maybe a fishtank in the waiting room. I expected usual doctor check up procedures once I got into a room. You know check your blood pressure and all that. What I didn't expect was the office my mom took me to.
To summarize I would say when I saw the waiting room I felt ten years too old to be there. The doctor I was going to see, which his name has been thoroughly forgotten, will be referred to as Dr. Kooky.   I was just grateful their were seats big enough for me to sit in. Of course everything was brightly colored and all the toys were aimed at kids about two. The only magazines I could find were parenting magazines. That waiting room felt like hell to me. Even my mom seemed uncomfortable. I was very disinterested in this whole thing so I pretended to pay attention when my mom was filling out the paper work. At that age I didn't know half of my info. Heck I still forget alot of it and have to look stuff up.
Thankfully we didn't wait to long. I for one was relieved to see the doctor patient rooms were normal. By normal I mean a sterile white color. Sure there were a few posters hanging clearly aimed at small kids, but this was greatly down scaled and it made me feel like I actually might be thirteen. Unfortunately the staff must have felt I was feeling far to okay with the situation and decided to make me feel like I was insane. The nurse did the normal blood pressure thing and other things nurses do. That by the way I admire them for because there is no way I could handle that job. What through me off is when they measured my head.
The only thing I could think at that moment was "Yes I have head. Does it matter what size it is? I can assure you there is a brain firmly lodged in the skull." I did ask why they measured my head, but I don't remember getting a clear answer.
When the doctor came in and did the doctor thing. I asked him and he said measuring the head was important because if it shrank it could be cause for alarm. Not those words. He said it in much more doctory termonology. I must say if my head shrunk I'd be concerned. No need to measure I'd tell you.  So with that explanation I decided my doctor was crazy and I just had to bear with it.
He made it clear that because this was technically my second seizure I was an epileptic. That I needed medication to keep it under control. My mother stressed the importance of not using the medicine I was on as a toddler. So it was decided I would take Tegritol. 
I turned my brain off (wasn't paying attention) for most of the actual appointment. I figured that was what my mom was for. She was smarter than me and she could actually remember the medical stuff that happened in the past. So I just attended because they needed me there.
Until next time have a beautiful god filled day.

Seizure Info

It occurred to me that if I'm to continue you might need to know a few things. So I'm embedding a couple of videos to help inform about types of seizures and what a person should do if someone has one.

Tilted World Now Upside Down

First of all everyone should know that when my epilepsy began in the eighth grade I wasn't exactly in a healthy frame of mind. The previous year was what I would refer to and still do as the worst year of my life. Sure worse things have happened to me since then, but I didn't have the faith then that I have now. In that year before I was bullied by three girls who first pretended to be my friend and then turned the entire seventh grade against me. Their were people I never really knew that found reasons to hate me that year. Even once trusted friends from the past turned their backs on me. By the end of that school year I was severely depressed and had contemplated suicide more than once,  but the thought of the pain my parents would go through if I went through with it kept me from actually following through. So I became very angry. Angry at God, angry at my peers, angry at the church. If there was something I could be angry at I was. A lot of this anger came out through writing very horrific stories and poems. I wrote down horrible violent acts that I wanted to do, but knew was wrong so I didn't. The summer was a saving grace and helped me regain some mental stability, but my faith in God was non-existent. I had already begun to build walls to keep people out. In fact I still have those walls and struggle with the task of tearing them down. Only my husband has managed to break through them unscathed. It's sad to admit that their even walls that I won't let my own family past. That one bad year landed me with a big old pile of trust issues.
So when eighth grade year came around I managed to make a core group of friends. I kept them all at a distance of course. One of these friends was a bridesmaid in my Wedding Lindsey. Another was Darci another friend that has come to mean a lot to me even though we don't get to talk or see each other much because of distance. The others were there for a time and helped show me not all people are evil and some people can be trusted. It was one of those girls that was with me when the trouble really began. I'll refer to her as Alice. Her name is changed because I'm no longer in contact with this person and don't know how she would feel being mentioned in my blog. 
It was in the morning and Alice was waiting for her mother to come pick her up. She had just spent the night. Since we were to tired to really do anything we decided on watching TV. We settled on a movie with Denzel Washington. I remember watching a scene with a rooftop and a helicopter and then all of a sudden I'm on the floor. Paramedics are crowded around me trying to see if I'm okay. My parents are in the room somewhere I can hear there voices. My friend Alice is nowhere to be seen. All of a sudden if felt like someone decided to have fun with me and pushed a button you are not supposed to push. Once pushed all emotions a person can possibly feel flooded to the service. I began to cry hysterically, while laughing and being really angry that paramedics where hovering over me bombarding me with questions that frankly I was to darn tired to answer. Where was my bed!
What was with the little guy in my brain banging my head with a sledge hammer because it hurt. For once I felt willing to take some pain killers. Next thing I knew I was being whisked away to the hospital.
The hospital visit I don't really remember. All I do know is they took my blood and made us wait for the results. I slept the whole time on a very uncomfortable bed. Eventually we got to go home where I slept more. Apparently the doctor's told my mom I needed to see a neurologist. Which will be talked about in my next post.

What's the Blog about

So for awhile now I've had an urge to write about my story. I've felt for awhile writing down how I've dealt with my eplipsey and everything I went through was important. So that's what this is about. Now that I'm in a good place in my life and seizure free for about five years since the end of this month I think the time is over due for my sharing.
I must also stress that journey with eplipsey brought me back to God and strengthened my faith in ways I couldn't have imagined. Before my eplipsey was a problem I'd turned my back and given up on God. I'd blamed him for the bullying and the crappiness I'd faced in life thus far.  I thought I could do it on my own and I found out the hard way that I just couldn't get through the truly rough times without him.
My next post will begin my story. Until then I wish you a good day and that God be with you.