Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. Epileptics do though!
I banged my head, hard, yesterday. We’ve all done it. I bent down to pick something up and stood straight again, cracking my head, hard, off the corner of a shelf. I don’t think I knocked myself out, but I did swear. A lot!
I then spent the rest of the day feeling pretty unwell. I couldn’t make up my mind whether it was just the fact I’d banged my head that was making me feel rubbish; or whether the thoughts that the bump might trigger a seizure were making me feel worse than I was. I felt sick. Or did I? I felt really woozy. Or did I? I couldn’t separate the feelings that go with a run of the mill, non-life threatening stupid accident with the feelings that I might have a fit. So, I did what I always do in that type of situation. I began to panic.
My first overseas trip with work is coming up. I know that if I have a fit now, then the trip will be in jeopardy. Should I tell someone? Well that’s the biggie. Yes, I should tell someone but, and it’s an enormous but for me, I’m scared that it will cause mass panic when all I’ve done is bang my head on the bookshelf! So, I start to worry about that. It’s that trade off. I don’t want a fuss. I can’t stand fuss. I don’t want anyone running over here just because I’ve bumped my head! But what if I have a fit? What then? Wouldn’t I be glad that someone came round to make sure I’m ok?!
Oh, the thoughts. The in-head argument that’s going on. I hate that part of my epilepsy. I mean really detest it. Turning an innocuous occurrence into a battle in my brain.
I’d had a really productive day up until the head-bang. I’d achieved a lot and was feeling pretty pleased with myself. The incident occurred and I retreated to the sofa where I could sit and be witness to the war. I tried to watch rugby on the TV, but couldn’t concentrate properly. I couldn’t decide whether it was because I was on the verge of a fit of whether it was because my head was really sore from cracking it off a wooden shelf. There’s that bloody panic again! If I take a painkiller, then the pain might dissipate and everything will be ok. But what if it just masks the signs and I feel better when I’m not and then I have a fit?! Aargh! I know somewhere inside me, that I’m being ridiculous. Panic is ensuring that I’m not thinking straight.
Should I tell someone? This entire question and all its ramifications have only arisen because the last time I had an episode, I was alone and helpless for a couple of days. Now, I’m in the position where I’ve agreed that I need to be in touch with people and that agreement is, and I don’t know why, making me feel like a helpless child. I’ve banged my head. I’m scared it’s going to result in a fit. Experience tells me it won’t, but I’m in the throes of panic so I’m not being reasonable. I know if I tell someone then they’ll be worried and I don’t want them to be. I don’t want anyone rushing round and creating a fuss.
The noise from the TV irritates me. I know I need to calm down. I get a glass of water and sit quietly for a few minutes. I’m regaining control. I’m ok. I got a fright, my head hurts like a bitch, but I’m ok. My day of productivity comes to an end. I have a cup of tea and I sit back down, turn the rugby back on and ignore the throbbing in the back of my head. The panic is subsiding and I’m glad I didn’t tell anyone I banged my head.
This morning when I woke up, there’s an expected bump on the back of my head and an unexpected bruise on my forehead. I feel fine though. I’m thinking straight, functioning well and there’s no trace of panic. Just a niggling question, that I must shrug off as I know I don’t know the answer. Did I have a fit during the night? I don’t know and I will have to deal with that.
So, epilepsy. Thanks for the reminder. You gave me a wobble. You threw a little obstacle in my way to let me know that you’re there and you can get me any time you please. Did you really think I’d forget?