But I’ve had 5-7 seizures, so I have good reason—seizures are tiring. I push a button when I feel them coming on, and then a bunch of people come running into my room and ask me a bunch of questions while it’s happening: Where are you? What’s your name? Where’s the ceiling? Can you read this? (Then they hold up a piece of paper that says something about whiskey and water being a popular drink in Texas, and I have to read it aloud.) I’ve been partially conscious during these episodes, so I remember doing these things. It’s weird to be both aware and unable to control yourself.
It doesn’t help that they are depriving me of sleep, too, in an attempt to trigger more seizures to collect more data. I was kept up until 2 am and woken up at 6. And they keep bringing in exercise bikes and treadmills and making me use them (while strapped into that stupid jumper, which is pretty much like wearing a sweat belt). I love getting up and moving around (I am sick and tired of laying around), but I wish I didn’t have to wear the jumper/safety harness.
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| 1. This is the thingy that my headdress wires are plugged into, and this thingy is hooked up to a computer. Don't ask me how it works--I have no idea. 2. This kind fellow refills my conductor gel and itches my scalp for me. 3. The second drug they had me try. (I'm not sure if it worked, though. I had two seizures in two hours after taking it.) |
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| 1. Getting my exercise. 2. The "motivational" (and highly ironic) calendar in my new room: I can't move, thankyouverymuch. At least, not without assistance, so thanks for the "encouragement." 3. Several times a day, they make me get my "move" on--no matter how tired I am. |
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