My first seizure. What a treat it was

First. Every single day we are experiencing something for the first time. The first page of a new book. First cake not burnt. First cinema experience. First online purchase … of the week. First seizure.

A month ago I experienced my first seizure. I was interstate, at a work function and it scared me out of my mind. On my way down I hit my head hard, ripped my earring out of my ear, bruised my shoulder, tore my knee open and forgot who I was.

The whole ambulance trip was me connecting the dots. I have kids. Two of them but what are their names. I don’t live here but where do I live.

Sometime in the ED, a CT scan and I was out the door – still fuzzy on the who I am but reasonably okay.

Getting back home and I chase up the results. This means a trip to psychiatrist who is $10 a minute and I wish this was me exaggerating. The man is smart and can block every attempt I make to bring his guard down. He is also so very old and talks non-stop about Freud.

It was at this appointment he promised me some he would work out what was going on as he was positive it had to do with my medication. I have been chasing him now for weeks. Daily phone calls and he won’t return my calls.

I have developed pins and needles in my hands and feet, I’m having insane headaches specifically on the right side of my brain and I’m having involuntary twitches.

I have some rich white douche telling me that I’m not handling it and that maybe a phone call from him will speed the process. I had some weird guy smell my hair while travelling home on the bus. I have zero independence at the moment and the rest of Abby-life.

I am feeling victimised by life a little, want someone to hug me, reassure me that it’s all okay and then – this is the bit that nobody can do – make it all go away.

If someone out there has an Abby voodoo-doll and stabbing it with zest, please stop. I’ve got the point.

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