Le twitch, twitch…

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.”

That’s something.

4 thoughts on “Le twitch, twitch…”

  1. You are…The CLAW!

    Um, I’m either sorry or I’m laughing. You’re messing with my appropriate response to your blog entry-ometer. The ARTYBE-ometer is confused.

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