From Thursday to Friday I experienced eight seizures. These were new seizures. I would go unconscious... to you I'd look like I was awake... first having the seizure then getting up and doing weird things like taking off my shoes. If you started to talk to me I would give you a blank stare because it would be as though you were speaking a different language. To me I was completely out. I remembered the seizure crawling up my arm to my head and the next thing I know I'm across the room with one shoe off and drool all over myself.
Usually I'm asleep or a small seizure happens while I'm awake and conscious. After six seizures we decided to go to the emergency room. On the way there I had one in the car. We finally got to the hospital and Sara reminded me that I wouldn't get any food so I better eat something before I'm admitted. I asked for the greatest hospital cheeseburger and found a place in the cafeteria to eat. About three bites into my food I felt my hand and leg go numb, my eyes got dark and sounds went quiet. All I heard was Sara tell me to spit out my food. I got one swallow in and the next thing I remember is being in a wheelchair down in the emergency room.
Sara says nurses eating in the cafeteria rushed to help and soon emergency room nurses came to get me. I was awake to them, they thought they could talk to me but I was out. Walking dead you could say. I wasn't saying anything, Sara says I just looked confused wondering why I couldn't finish my food.
When I woke up in the emergency room I already had an IV in and they had pumped me full of Ativan (a strong emergency seizure medication) and the seizures stopped and I fell asleep. We waited in the emergency room for a bed in the neurology department. When we finally got one I was hauled up there and could barely stay awake. Sara stayed for a little while but left after 11pm.
Hospital nights are rough. There's always someone waking you up to take blood or the check your vital signs. Usually these things happen from 3am-6am. You NEED drugs to get any rest.
Sara got there on Saturday and stayed until I was able to leave. The doctors mixed my meds again and attributed the relapse to an antibiotic I was taking for a skin rash. They asked if I wanted to stay another night or leave Saturday night and I chose to get the hell out of there!
Now I have to be watched again. No locked doors, being by myself for long periods is not good. It's quite a kick in the teeth. It's cliche but I've taken one step forward and two back. Of course I stopped taking the bad medication so that will help but the fact that something so small can make me feel like that is scary. Yeah, I'm a little depressed. Being babysat takes a toll on your ego...