Spring Sprang Sprung

 

It was a beautiful weekend. We rang in the first day of the season in vibrant, springish, dare-i-say glorious fashion. I love my boys.

And then, of course, there was kayaking. I'm hoping to whip up a post about additional safety measures to allay some of the risks for seizure-having kids and people like me partaking in sports like kayaking. But later. For now, just know they exist (and undergoing continual development). 

It's running at a friendly level, and it's a 'pool-and-drop' river, so after the rapids there's a nice calm pool to regroup and collect any swimmers, boats or gear. By our best accounts and figures, my typical 3 or 4 minute warning before a seizure should be adequate on this stretch, at this flow, to (whistle/signal, for starters), and find a spot to stop on shore, or at the very least eddy out and pray for the best... (My guys are rad, is what is boils down to, not to mention my buddy Marissa who joined on day two and kicked ass on her first Lochsa lap ever!)

Behind that awesome clump of cedars was my
very favorite pee spot of the weekend.

How rejuvenating right?! You could almost cure sepsis just looking at that emerald green water. 

Well, despite the auspicious beginning, i had about three more posts i'd hoped to get to, ('Fun at the Idaho Caucus', for one), was supposed to play three hockey games last night in our end-of-the-season tourney, then venture out afterwards to catch up with my good friends visiting all the way from Corvallis. But instead my plans have been supplanted with feeling like dogshit. I'm dragging ass, even though by my recollection i've been sleeping and doing everything else as usual. 

I went to donate blood, (It's been scheduled for months, and i need all the easy karma i can get.) and even though i forgot to eat my cream-of-wheat, my iron was good. So i was stoked. Then of all damn things, i was deferred because my pulse was too high. I'm not at my peak swimming fitness, i'll admit, but my pulse was over 200. Ten minutes later, despite my best attempt to deep breathe and open a six pack of calm, it was higher. (How i hadn't noticed my heart was racing sooner, i haven't a clue.) In the days since, it's lower three out of four times i checked but still zooming intermittently. (Not quit my normal baseline, but 'WNL'. My pulse is usually mid 50's while marinating in the hospital setting.)  

Is it the VNS? The maude reports are full of weird cardiac problems and events. Maybe the battery is starting to shit the bed? I don't really want to go all the way to Spokanistan to be told i'm being a ninny though if it really isn't anything. I'm in between GP's right now as mine has gone off to specialize in bariatric patients exclusively. She's fabulous. I'm ready to gain a hundred pounds just so i can see her again.

Anyhow, that's a pretty junk ending to what started as a niceish post. A roller coaster week for lack of a more inspired analogy. When the hockey schedule was posted i'd hoped to sneak a morning lap on our local river before our first game today, but i'm going to re-up on NSAIDs and go back to sleep instead. Little crab fork headaches, nothing compared to the kind post seizure, have accompanied this weird, unprecedented malaise. And does 'nothing grows in anger' apply to everything except seizures? Or do i feel angry on account they are imminent? Even small ones that may or may not have definitely not happened this week...foof.

Adulting is Horseshit

My friend Dane scouting our line at Shoestring Falls on our way to a stellar December kayak szechuan 

I'm angry. I should be incredibly grateful, but for the last 2 weeks i've demonstrated the emotional maturity of a pre-pubescent T-rex at the jungle gym. Outwardly i'm depressed. Inside i'm throwing a tantrum. I don't think it's very healthy.

Hm, since i last blogged things have been pretty good. I should keep better records but by my off-the-cuff recounting, i ate shit in aisle 47 on or around Valentine's day three years ago, and that was the first seizure at work that i blogged about. I'm still not sure who found me that day. 

I don't think it was more than a week later i was at work again and couldn't get away in time. In a lapse of judgement i ended up in the bathroom. I didn't get hurt beyond the shame and tongue biting. Considering the venue (en el trabajo y el baño), I don't remember it as being a very traumatic episode, as far as they go. The co-worker who found me was kind about it on account, she told me, she'd dealt with her mother having strokes when she was young.

I might have had one more around that time where i almost made it home. I don't live very far, but it's a fairly busy highway. I was fine, albeit a spectacle, as i was on or near the sidewalk with a helmet on, and fortunately Olive stuck right by me. I broke a tooth, but it was my favorite ambulance crew, and they quickly loaded my dog, bike and trailer into their rig and brought us home.

From about then, I went until New Year's 2015 and whatever happened that night landed me in the neuro ICU. (...an hr. and a half away from my hometown for nearly a week. That's probably a schmegshow post of it's own).

Yhen, I ended up in our local ER not long after returning to work from that debacle. My seizures tend to cluster, not necessarily back-to-back, but buy one, get one or two free for the week.

I don't remember anything leading up to that seizure. All i know is they found me in the middle of the road. My EMT coworker said she dumped about 8-12 ounces of blood and clots from the hat i'd been wearing. They dragged me in, but there was a doc i hadn't met before working (imagine that) and she was phenomenal. My sister was there, so the doc stapled me back together, and instead of going through all the CYA CT scans, B.S. and associated radiation, she consulted both of us like real-life, cogent human beings. Satisfied, we were glad to be released on our own recognizance, and we sachet-ed out the door.

... 

I don't know what my stupid problem is - why i'm bound-and-determined to fall most in love with the things i should never do. Kayaking's like surfing though - the rush and sensation are unlike anything else. I figure so long as my friends are fully-cognizant and, if my state is prepared to re-issue a driver's license, after 6 months, i can que será a little kayaking. Right? So... i guess i've been dabbling. Okay! I'm obsessed, i'll admit it! Don't tell my dad!

Kayak surfing in my yellow boat! 

We're posed to have a great runoff this spring. (Naturally.) I'd been getting out at least every-other weekend this winter. So lucky. My love affair with rivers and mountains has been re-kindled in the recesses of my capricious fucking brain.



Then, two Tuesdays ago i was at work. Olive was off somewhere else, ha, so i didn't get the benefit of knowing more than three or four minutes in advance. There was a newer guy sitting at the station directly across from me . I remember standing up with every intention of saying something, then i had a flash of my head splatting on all the surrounding concrete. I sat back down in my tall work stool, but by that time it was too late for me to clearly articulate anything.

My right hand bounced above my thigh. As soon as i felt my body twisting and my arm rising and jerking simultaneously towards the wall, i knew it was over. The twitching on the side of my face surged towards the kinking in my neck. Some moment just after, i yelled and slammed my eye socket into the raw corner of the wooden table behind me. I woke up and my face was warm, my lap was wet and my tongue was freshly hamburgered. There were no fewer than 32 people surrounding me, but thankfully, they let me sign and avoid the costly trip to the Emergency Room.

Lochsa launch ramp - Fish Creek 

It's raining right now. Everyone's going out this weekend. I don't want to make a reckless decision that my friends have to endure for the rest of their lives, (they did invite me, which is really, really nice. And being WFR an swiftwater rescue trained, and from the extent of our discussions, i have to think they fully ascertain the consequences if something did happen.) I don't want to be selfish, but holy Lord i want to go! Gah. Isn't that infantile? I should be counting my blessings for having been able to kayak period, but it's all i can do not to stomp my feet and "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah" ala Lucy. I'm thirty this year, but my land, this whole adulting thing is horseshit. I just want to throw a tantrum, run away from home and  go play outside forever.

Our magnificent playground