A Seize, A Seize, A Public Seize

I have yet to tell this story, because it is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me, very easily surpassing my mid-concert, smart-phone recorded, seizure of 2012.

I was going to class last Tuesday mind my own special type of business when I had an “aura.” An aura is something someone with epilepsy has that makes them aware that they are about to have a seizure. I was not in the most ideal place for a harlem shake; I was getting off the subway at the Broadway-Lafayette station, just steps away from being above ground, when I took the hit.

I lay down on the floor, and then came my partial seize, creeping up my left leg, not caring where I was or who was watching me. A crowd was drawn and I was the center of a very unwelcome attention, once more. Someone called the hospital, and they carted me off to New York Presbyterian Hospital.

My cousin came from New Jersey, and they discharged me, and just before she came, I got the feeling again. It was coming back, and I had to pee. I was dying to pee, but I couldn’t get out of the car. I couldn’t take another public display of bodily dysfunction.

I could not seize out there in the world, again.

We made it back to Brooklyn, and we sat outside my house, me shaking off the feeling of needing to pee and trying to push away yet another seizure.

I couldn’t get out, and I ended up having to pee in a cup in her car.

Side note: I seriously don’t know what I would do without her. I would have been beyond screwed. She drove like two hours just to make sure I got home safely. We decided to never speak of it again, but I owe her so damn much for that.

God knows what would have happened to me if I didn’t have that bitch in my life. I didn’t even ask her to come.

But I still vote worst day of my life.

My life is hell.

But that’s cool. Hell has cookies.

Oh wait, my blood sugar is unstable. I can’t even eat them.

Here’s a carrot, instead.

Nastily Exhausting Nightmares and Dastardly Other-Worldly Dreams

I keep having these horrible recurring nightmares that make me wake up in a complete panic. A different person is featured in each of the dreams–some people I know and some I don’t–but the same thing happens every single time. Faces change, but the events do not. I am even wearing the exact same dress every single time–a pure white ball gown with trumpet sleeves. Then, I wake up in tears.

The dream always takes place on my wedding night, and I’ll have just walked into my hotel room with my supposed husband. He walks toward me, smiling like mad, obviously ready to consummate the marriage. That’s when, in the dream, I start hyperventilating. Seconds later, I wake up already crying and breathing hard.

The last time I had it was the worst of all. There was screaming involved.

I am so screwed.

Literally.