I went to court today for a hearing and nothing unusual happened during the hearing!!
I didn’t have a seizure, my face didn’t twitch or flutter, I didn’t have trouble focusing or staying awake, and I wasn’t unfocused or forgetting half the words in the English language!!
Of course, the second it was over my blood sugar crashed, my right thumb started to spasm and my face began it’s wierd little muscle dance but during the stressful and emotionally charged hearing itself I held it together!! Thank god!! I was so afraid I was going to go into court and have a moment where my face twitched just visibly enough that the Judge thought I was laughing at her.
“Counselor. Do you find something amusing?”asks the woman in the flowing black robes as she holds my clients future in her hands.
“No your Honor, I apologize, I’m Epileptic and my medication causes odd and unfortunately timed facial twitching. I swear I am not laughing at you.”
I could barely sleep last night as images of this and other side effect related issues flooded my imagination. I was so stressed out this morning on my way in. I so rarely appear in court these days anyway, as most of my practice is settlement, that appearing in court under these circumstances just seemed really unduly stressful.
Not only did I not fall apart and seize uncontrollably in reaction to the added stress, I kicked ass in the hearing too.
Today is a good day.
I upped my medication last night because I couldn’t stand the constant low level muscle seizures anymore.
My hands twitch their steady low throb more often than not these days, yesterday and the day before they just didn’t bother stopping. Upping the dose seemed to help initially, but then I ended up with a relatively strong seizure in both hands for about an hour. They kind looked like one of those claw machines inside the Wal-Mart, where you can maneuver the pronged “hand” around to pick up a toy, my fingers twitching in and out like they were being operated by an impatient toddler. It tires out my muscles and makes my arms sore, but is kind of interesting to watch if I can detach myself from the whole “those hand belong to me” aspect of it.
Still, I guess I am happy that they aren’t just fluttering all damn day long. My face still twitches when I get too stressed, so my cheeks hurt all over as a result. I guess this will be a better anti-wrinkle treatment than those silly electric shock devices you can glue to your cheeks and zap yourself with, right? I will have amazing facial muscles by the time this is all through, be 30 pounds lighter, and still hate the taste of all things sugary. I guess there are worse ways to maintain one’s youthful vitality.
At my 20th high school reunion everyone will look at me and think “skinny, tight-skinned bitch” instead of “Oh! You poor epileptic thing you.”
I find myself in a better frame of mind.
My doc seems to see no problem whatsoever in me having more children, though I will absolutely not be taken off the meds at all, period, ever. Apparently the risk of birth defect caused by seizure is significantly higher than the risk caused by medication. Hmm. I guess we have some thinking to do.
I also have had a chance to slow down my ramp up and adjust a little bit to my medication, even though slowing down has resulted in two straight days of seizures in my left hand. They are very minute now, and feel rather like a muscle spasm, so I can handle them much better than I used to, though they are currently accompanied by that fluttering facial twitching which wears my face muscles out and freaks my soul out a bit. Ok, a lot. Still, I am less tired, and other than today have been generally feeling better.
The best news, I rediscovered a friend. I went to a drum circle on Saturday with a long time friend and while I was hiding on the fringe of the circle with her, wondering if I should stay there in the rain or hide near the bonfire and warm up, I saw the silhouette of a friend from long ago. I snuck up behind him and placed my hands over his eyes, like I had done a million times before in a prior life. When he spun around and recognized me it was like a homecoming. Best of all, he has Epilepsy, has dealt with it for thirty-three years, and has already spent hours this weekend talking me through this diagnosis. I feel as though my feet have found solid ground to stand on again. He has promised that I can call him anytime with concerns and questions. I feel so much better just having someone I know and trust to talk to about all this, someone who actually knows what the fuck it feels like, and someone who knows me well enough to ask me embarassing questions and answer the same with complete honesty and aplomb.
So this weekend has been a good one, and ends with me in a better frame of mind. I have a new strong hand guiding mine as I find my way through this maze, and am feeling blessed.