Bewildermint - an After Dinner Treat (pt. 6)

Even though I still couldn't walk a straight line, I went back to work pretty much right away. There were times throughout the day i had such bad double vision, I couldn't read the words on my computer screen. (It could have been quintuple vision, but i'm not sure i could count to five at the time, so.) The drug levels fluctuate like less-than amusing carnival rides. At various points you could find me out in our gravel lot, sitting like a broken ballerina or a fallen clown, clutching one of the large, 55 gallon, garbage bins, head bowed inside and heaving. While I might look amazing in a tutu, I have no grace when it comes to them spins.

My sister and her wife, Tami, stayed with me. They live about 4 blocks away, so it wasn't a total hardship. (But still a pain, for sure.) I was a junk show. If falling down with seizures wasn't enough, when i stood up too fast, I passed right out.  

I'm sure passing out is strange for everyone, but it's a trip for me. A few of the times i've woken up, my legs were still bouncing. [Some people have convulsive-like movements when they pass out?] I've never been cognizant during an all-encompassing seizure, and i rarely remember waking up. It's bizarre laying there and self-assessing when you're still in some full-body paroxysm after all the times you've done so unaware. Maybe i've died during a seizure and now i'm conscious and leaving my body. But wait, i can still *feel* my arms and legs... I broke glassware falling on my coffee table and also a full-length mirror. 

I also fell on account of the vertigo I was still experiencing from the drugs, like being stuck on a heinous carousel ride at warp speeds. When my higher nighttime dose peaked, I was so whacked, I'd fall from even a crawling position. I'd have to yell out to my poor, hyper-vigilant caretakers, "I'm fine, i'm fine, i'm fine!" Just crashing, no seizure.

Na 'Aina Kai Botanic Gardens Kauai

Like i mentioned in a previous post, I'd been calling in to work from the hospital. People took it in good humor, thankfully, but I guess I was pretty loopy over the phone. (I have no recollection. I was shocked to learn i'd called in most of the days.) They knew somehow, i'd been Life-Flighted and I was pretty sure, despite the copious truth serums, I wouldn't have divulged that particular detail. (Though i've certainly said and done things on those drugs I never imagined.) EMT coworkers who may have known, are consummate professionals and, in my experience, unfailingly discreet. Sure enough, it was my dad who had called in and divulged all the gory details- thanks Dad! Gah, as if they weren't aware enough already on the work front. (I know it was well-intended, but seriously.)

I'd called in one morning and a coworker friend answered. I can't remember the story exactly as he told it, but basically I identified myself, confirmed who he was, and promptly hung up on him. I got transferred another morning into my manager's voicemail box. I said, "Hi [manager's name], i like your voicemail greeting. Bye." <click> Not even relating a shred as to the intended purpose of my call. Who knows what i liked about her voicemail.

One time, a number of years ago, I was benzo'ed and gonzo'ed in the ER and invited a bunch of hospital employees, cops and EMTs to a party at my house. Thankfully, someone clued me in, so i was aware of the event prior to everyone's arrival. It wasn't totally out-of-character; I enjoy get-togethers, but hosting larger affairs that include more acquaintances than close friends, is totally anxiety-provoking territory for me. 

At least 20 people came. Aside from my boyfriend-at-the-time ruining a strawberry-rhubarb pie filling, (having mistaken burdock in the yard for rhubarb), everything went without a hitch. Thankfully, burdock is totally edible, and while the pie might have tasted like shit, we didn't, even nearly, poison a good portion of the first-responder contingent of Moscow. My plant ID superpowers recognized our blunder before the filling hit the shell, and we even had enough time to make another batch before the party.

Anyhow, the entire town was a construction zone this past August. No exaggeration - there were street closures and blocked lanes that appeared all over without warning. I swear, they must have run out of signs! And given my level of intoxification, there was no way I was biking. On one hand, with all the roadwork, it seemed easier and safer walking places in any case (despite concomitant sidewalk closures). On the other, Olive the Wonder Dog's goodsent abilities allow for enough time to get home from practically anywhere in town by bicycle, but not necessarily enough time by foot.

Olive the Wonder Dog

I can't remember how many days into the work week I made it; It wasn't the first day back, at least. About midday, olive made it clear it was time to leave, or i'd be creating a scene. With her rate of walking, these days, odds were a snow flake in Hades we'd make it in time. I abandoned her and started booking home. 

Well, i might have made it, but with all the single lane nonsense, and mostly unregulated intersections, it took longer to navigate homeward. I made it to the highway junction, just two blocks short of my house. There was actually a flagger there. Even if she'd been able to usher me across expediently, by then, i didn't have a prayer. I was half off the curb when I timbered. My dome hit the asphalt, and not the curb or the concrete, so it was more superficial than it could've been. I guess one of the construction workers sat and held my head, while others called 911. This totally mungged up the major intersection even further. I can't imagine how many poor people were held up in their cars in the hot sun, bearing witness to the whole spectacle. 

I ate shit a few more times along that stretch in the subsequent days, but i've already written a novel here so i'll spare the details. My sister guys, in turn, were wary of allowing me to walk anywhere. (I love my commute!) I'm an introvert, which isn't to say i'm not gregarious at times, but i definitely re-energize in my alone moments. I was dejected. Thankfully, as long as i was pushing my bike, I could toddle almost anywhere wearing a helmet without relinquishing my last shards of pride. That placated my people a little.

More whackadoodle anecdotes to conclude the saga, but I suppose it will be left 'to be continued', yet again.

In the meantime, besos y abrazos to you, dear reader.

Out of Dodge [Still in the Brambles] (pt. 5)

Okay, going back to the tail end of July/early August. It seems so long ago, but I suppose I'm still reeling. 

Shortly after swooping onto the scene, my mom emerged victorious in her rounds with Dr. Bugpoop and co., thus freeing me from the hospital confines. She waited before driving home so she could accompany me to an appointment with my primary care doctor the next day. 

It's an hour and a half home and I don't remember any specific details from the trip.

I was a little bit less on the swerve by my appointment time the next day. I remember most of the dialog. At the end, my physician turned to my mom and said, "Yeah, I just lost a 26 year old with epilepsy in my practice. She died in her home a few months ago." As if our time in the ICU and a life flight helicopter ride hadn't already conveyed the gravity of the situation. Thanks for putting my poor mother at ease, doc!

Well, not as much progress as i'd hoped, but some. To be continued, (yet again).

May your Wednesday be wondrous. 

Love and kindness from Moscow.

Getting There

How We Get There from Allison Jackson on Vimeo.

This is a video from one of our commutes home last spring. For Christmas we upgraded Olive's rickshaw, so she has a full, legit cart with a cover now, and doesn't have to take mud and grime in the face, flung from the back tire. It's a boring video (although, I'm partial to the lead character), and forgive the squeaky breaks and lack of editing etc. It sets the stage for some eating-of-shit I did along that section of highway the weeks following my hospital stint this past summer. (Setting the stage - mark my words, the post is going to happen.)

So that's how we roll, except there's a new little dog bounding along beside us now. As of today, i'd say it's going pretty well:

Hope all is well with you. 

Winterfall

                        Dancing lady ginger, Globba winitii Na 'Āina Kai Kauai

Lord, y'all. I suck. The most productive thing I've accomplished all month, probably, was donating blood yesterday. Back in my swimming days I was an amazing donor. Now my veins are kind of shot (thanks, likely, to the understood vesicant nature of both phenytoin and diazepam), but generally after a prod or two they can get er done. I used to be deferred fairly often for low iron, but a phlebotomist tipped me off to eating cream-of-wheat the night before, some years ago, and I haven't been staved off for anemia since.

The blood folks reach out to me regularly since I'm O+ (reminder to self- see, something in me is positive right now!) and despite that pesky Rh factor, they seem to quite enjoy the 'O' types. So, I'd agreed to a set appointment time the day before. Until then my hair had been in a singular, twisted dreadlock for a week or two. It's cold and dark here already - easy to get away with knotting in a bun and putting on a hat, so that's been the extent of my beauty routine. I didn't want to interface with any healthcare professional without washing and brushing my hair though, so la-dee-dah, I can rake a comb through the individual strands of mane now.

I got back about a week ago from a fairly spontaneous trip home (if a haole girl can call it home?) to Kauai where I was fortunate enough, once-upon-a-time, to attend be enrolled in high school (and graduate, somehow), and where my amazing dad and my antithesis-of-evil stepmother live. Things had leveled out fairly well seizure-wise prior to embarking on the trip, but I was still kind of meh, even after all these months since my ICU clusterflock. Also, my shoulder has been separated since August, so I knew i'd be somewhat less activity-equipped. I hoped that regardless, the warm weather, sunshine and family fix would be beneficial, nonetheless. It was, but may have done more to bring to light, rather than dry up, some bits of sadness, and seizures, and shit, which I guess could be a whole post of its own, if i ever get to it.

So, leave it to me to complain about a trip to Hawaii. I still haven't drummed up much on the work front. I did get a few killer offers while on island, which feels great, but realistically... I don't know. I don't know anything. I'd still love to finish telling you about how whacked things turned out to be the weeks following my jailbreak from the hospital, but it's still kind of a muddled smudge of memories and basically petulant drivel.

I did, however, get a new dog. Sheesh. My sister arranged it all. I was, of course, reluctant once it all came to light. We knew we wanted some overlap with Olive, so she can be a positive influence. She came from the humane society down in Boise, and had been identified as a smart girl with service dog potential. She is very smart, but as i expressed to my sister early on, I need a good dog; not necessarily the smartest dog. Ha. Poor Jen (my sister). There will never be another Olive. We both expected a mellower new pupper, though, she's only just a year now. She listens *great*, but she's a handful (zoomies for daaaaaaaaaays). She's a retriever mix of sorts; we think maybe some whippet as she's fairly slight and made to run, but could be springer, setter or saluki for all I know. She's 43 pounds and they don't expect her to get much bigger, which is great by me.

New dog, Tater

I wish I could say i've been getting up with her every day (as she deserves) and jogging a few miles these nice winter/fall mornings, and making the most of my unemployment time, but with the exception of a day or two, of actually fucking rallying, i mostly haven't even got my ass dragged out the door until after noon. I'm depressed. The dogs are good sports about it though, thank goodness. I'm not totally debilitated and do get them out every day eventually. I've been going to counseling. I really don't want to take any other medications on top of the seizure drugs, especially since I'm still stuck right now at the higher doses, and they're plenty mood-altering. I don't really know what else to do. I know I probably need to get more connected and engaged or something, but for me that shit (commitment in general?) can also be stressful and daunting. (Is that a cop-out? Yes. Am I a schmuck? Totally.) Right now i'm feeling anything but brave.

I meet up with my sister and/or friends every now and then, but mostly my days consist of venturing to the grocery store when we run out of one or more of the basics and hitting the trail or a park in between. One of my main concerns was the logistics of getting anywhere with two dogs, but Tater has taken great to running alongside the bike while Olive rides in the cart. She seems to do fine waiting patiently at the racks until the old trusty doggo and I have wrapped up the shopping. Not sure how it's all going to work out in the end, but it's been fairly entertaining in the meantime. Oh, and she is very sweet.

Forgive my absence again. I guess I'm loathe to come and merely complain, but then again, when things are great, I sort of hate to come and gloat about that too. An ungrateful curmudgeon of sorts, I suppose.

Thank you for you. I've been reading and loving you as a fly-on-the-wall from both Idaho and Hawaii, but have dropped the ball in the comments. I over-think everything and words are hard sometimes. Your pictures and stories and tirades are sustenance, though, in these aimless, lonely days.

Love and gratitude from cold and dark North Idaho.