Epileptic Techno…1 Year Later

I’ve been seizure free for one year as of today.  Some people may not get how HUGE this actually is, I probably don’t either.  As much as I’d love to tell you how strong I am, what a fighter I was, or how I overcame such a big obstacle…I can’t, I don’t remember a damn thing.  But what I do remember are a couple moments in time that I sure as hell am glad I have no memory of!  Sit back and prepare to cringe.

In July of last year, I met a guy.  He was a sailor and a cute one at that.  Beautiful baby blues and the biggest dimples I have ever seen in my entire life.  I won’t go into details about how we met, I’ll look like a bimbo for sure, just know that I was completely smitten!  We decided it’d be fun to meet for drinks, I didn’t realize at the time that a brain tumor had been affecting the way my body processed alcohol.  I drank what was usually a comfortable amount for me, but before I knew it…shlammered.  I don’t remember our romantic encounters, but the formal noise complaint he received assures me we had a good time.  Skip to the day after, I was feeling a little strange, and not just hangover strange.  I was twitching.  I decided I’d better go back to the bedroom to lay down.  I tried to sleep it off, but I woke up and was hungry.  The last thing I remember was trying desperately NOT to drop my pizza on the floor a fifth time.  I kept twitching, and I knew something was coming.  The following details are as I was told by the dapper sailor.  Not only did I have a seizure, I had a gran mal and lost consciousness.  I was turning colors and spewing green splooge like Linda Blair from The Exorcist.  As if that wasn’t bad enough; apparently while in the postictal state (the period in which the brain recovers from a seizure, usually including confusion, altered consciousness, fatigue, etc.), I attempted to make out with the guy.  Can you imagine not only witnessing a traumatic seizure, but then having the victim post puke, try to kiss you?!  YUK!  You’ve got to give the guy some credit, he still tried to date me after the fact.  I don’t remember exactly what happened, but based on old messages, I was just not mentally available.

I had another seizure in front of my parents.  Again, I don’t have any recollection of this, but what I remember is being whisked off by the handsome paramedics that came to my aide.  Here is a piece of advice, ladies…shave your legs if there is any chance that you may be examined by multiple hot men in one night.  I was so embarrassed for simply seizing, but adding wookie legs to the mix just brought me to a whole new level of shame.

One more event sticks out in my head, and it’s not so amusing.  A few months following the handful of seizures I had, I was hospitalized at University of Maryland Medical Center in the epilepsy monitoring unit.  I was recovering from the trauma I had experienced in the previous months.  I was hooked up to all of the monitors, wires were cemented to my scalp and my head wrapped like a sikh guru.  I was having such vivid dreams, ones that I’d wake from and get confused, not knowing what was dream or reality.  My first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first crush was laying in a hospital bed, tubes, wires, no consciousness.  I awoke from that dream in tears.  Not knowing if it in fact happened, I sent him a message.  I received a response from his mother informing me that he had been shot.  Point blank, several times.  She explained to me that he was on life support and had no brain activity.  I flipped my shit and questioned everything.  Could being in an altered state of consciousness turn me into a clairvoyant?  Did our souls connect on a spiritual level?  I was throwing PVC’s left and right, the doctors decided I needed plasma instead of fluids to calm my heart.  I was obviously in shock.  I found out later that evening that he was four floors below me in shock trauma, and I couldn’t say goodbye.

I decided then that I was going to take control of this illness, it wouldn’t be the death of me.  I began to tell myself repeatedly, “you are healthy,” “you are happy,” “you don’t need meds or doctors.”  I started noticing a change not only in my outlook, but also in the medical reports.  After eight days, I no longer had epileptic activity on my EEG.  I demanded to be released, I chose to withdraw from all of my meds, and after about a month of shakes, hot/cold flashes, stomach rot and mood swings, I was better.  I have been seizure free ever since.  My brain activity remains normal.  People may call it a coincidence, a miracle, or an anomaly.  I prefer to think of it as my mind healing itself through positive thinking, affirmation, and lifestyle changes.  So that’s my story, no pity party, no attention seeking, no regrets.  Just a life that I am extremely blessed to live.  If I can overcome, anyone can!  The mind has an amazing amount of untapped ability.  Change the way you think and you can change your destiny.  Set goals for yourself, visualize those goals fulfilled. Declare it, believe it, act as if it’s true and walk in faith that it will come to pass.  The only unattainable goal a person can truly have, is that which the mind deems improbable.  The power to thrive, overcome, and kick ass has been inside all of us, all along.

 

 

“It’s not you, it’s me…”

Like most single, thirty-something women, I am hungry for love. Since I left my ex-husband three years ago, I’ve seen a wide variety of men. Trying to broaden my horizon and experience new things, I have made some pretty sweet memories and had my share of detrimental lessons learned. What I have yet to find is an unwavering, unhesitating love, not held back by fear or uncertainty. I have met a few guys that seemed to have the fortitude to pursue something lasting with a single mother, but it was all smoke and mirrors, followed by excuse after excuse; many including the infamous “It’s not you, it’s me.” In my experience this means: it’s totally you, in fact, had it not been you or your situation, we’d probably live happily ever after!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve left my fair share of broken hearts along this journey as well. I can’t seem to get past the stage of infatuation successfully. The stress of not knowing is probably the biggest roadblock for me. Having my trust broken repeatedly has left me lacking total trust in anyone. I tend to shut people out, fearing my own dubious suspicions and I jump to the worst conclusion in record time. This has made it hard to actually find something that works in both directions.

The most common issue I face is men not being able to wrap their heads around the sheer number of children I have. They say “maybe if you just had one or two,” or “I can’t see myself as an instant father of four.” To this I say, I never even said you’d have that opportunity. In the few years that I have been single, exactly zero men have met my kids. This was actually the demise of a very promising relationship. He was ready, I was not. That’s not to say I never would have been okay with it. I suppose when the right man comes along, I will be. Until then, an outsider would just seem completely incongruous to their normal, everyday life.

Why the long face, you ask? Simply the fact that I feel at times my children are holding me back from love. Now before you pick up your pitchforks and scream “selfish mom,” hear me out. My entire married life consisted of, cooking, cleaning, and kids. That was my career and I did it extremely well. I was somewhat of a Stepford wife, wired to cater to the needs of my household while remaining in pristine condition at all times. I put my entire life on the back burner to secure the best environment for my then husband and children. Now, I am picking up where I left off; no career, scholastic achievements, or savings…just life experiences. My ex-husband has the career and believes that it comes before any personal need that I may have. Having to bend completely around his schedule has caused many canceled plans and has left men questioning my desire to spend time with them. This will obviously get easier once the child barrier is broken and we can spend time together around the kids, but until then, my schedule is pretty tight. The most interesting thing in most situations seems to be, men are much more needy than they claim to be, or will even admit to themselves. Yet they claim to need an abundance of space…very confusing indeed.

Dating in the modern world is just disappointing, on so many levels. Facebook seems to ruin everything, and the new man logic is “I like her, I should send her a picture of my penis!”  With actual telephone calls being obsolete, we have the ability to misinterpret nearly every message sent. Sarcasm is mistaken for kindness, and kindness mistaken for sexual interest. Being in constant contact with a new romantic interest, exchanging messages all day, every day can give someone a false sense of comfort. Making one to feel as if they’ve known the other person for much longer than they actual have. Courtship seems to be a thing of the past, and exchanging sexual or romantic texts or messages with other people can too easily tear apart a couple.

The biggest challenge that we all seem to face, is not penalizing a new relationship for the offenses of past relationships. Someday, we will find our “person,” the one who puts all of our past lovers to shame.  So keep your chin up, and give it time.  In the end…our time was the only thing we truly ever owned.

I’m not quite sure where I’m going with this, so here’s a funny video about the “joys” of texting!

When Life Throws you Lemons…

So many things have changed over the past few years.  One major thing being, I am no longer married.  I am now a single mom, and I am doing okay (some days), others are not as great.  I am stronger and more resilient, also more tired and definitely not as happy-go-lucky.  The major improvement that I have made to my personality is that I have found my belly laugh again.  Can you honestly say, when you are caught up in the struggles of a failing marriage, riddled with infidelity and many other challenges, that you aren’t a raging bull, constantly seeing red at the drop of a hat?  I turned into a person that I didn’t even recognize, or want to be around for that matter.  I am so happy to see my smile again.

I feel through recent events, that I have lost that luster that I was so happy to welcome back into my life.  That dreaded moment when your kids start talking up the other woman.  When suddenly, she sends “goodnight, I love you” or “I miss you” texts to your children, well aware that you will see said messages.  Then you find out that she’s moving in, and taking a less pressing job to spend more time with your kids, or that a new baby will soon be entering the picture.  All that runs through your mind is, If I go to prison on assault charges, this wretch will be cuddling my kiddos!  (Still may be worth it).  Taking a big, deep breath doesn’t work, having a long sob doesn’t work, having a few too many drinks doesn’t work, finding a happy distraction doesn’t work.  So what on earth does?  Trying to make the best of a horrible situation.  They came home from a vacation with perfect (but not better than Mommy’s) updo’s, and cool stories of how Daddy’s girlfriend showed them how to do it.  I know I have taught them a thing or two, but I knew it was time to take their “big girl skills” to the next level.  We got straight to the kitchen.  I passed down some of my famous recipes.

When life hands you lemons, you bust out your homemade lemonade recipe and get to sippin’ the sweet goodness that only comes from mama to daughter.  It’s a right of passage, a memory that cannot be replaced by any other woman.  When the warn, sweet sunshine starts pouring through the windows, and the stand goes up in the front yard…smiles will be had, memories will be made, and whatever hurt you may have been feeling will have gone away, even if only for the day.  Now I need spring to get here quickly, but don’t ask me to babysit, or we may be selling more than lemonade!  (Kidding…kind of).

Here’s  an updated pic of the fam.