Longest Two Weeks of My Life

Are you there, God? It’s me. Were you trying to control the longest two weeks of my life, which were once a massive exploding in my brain? It began as a night I had the most appalling headache ever. I really only thought this was a normal hangover; it would be gone in a day, or so I thought. Yet, the next day, it was still there. Then the next day, and the next. This massive, continuous vibration that seemed to take over my mind. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was also beginning to have a difficult time seeing out of the right angle of my eye. A tiny black dot, off to the side, was becoming a distraction for me. I began to think I was going blind! I felt like I had something jammed inside of my head, counting down the days until it was going to explode.

The doctor I had at the beginning of the millennium was useless. He seemed only to scribbled down all I described to him as the typical symptoms for a cold, which was what he tended to do. I could walk in with bandages wrapped around my arms, blood pouring out of every pour of my body, and he would write me a prescription for over-the-counter Tylenol.

I still tried to continue on with my day at the pet store I was employed at. I could normally hurl a twenty-pound bag of dog food onto the shelf, yet on this day I could scarcely lift two tiny bird feathers without feeling an explosion in my mind. I was now beginning to see a tiny white light in my eyes: felt like being called into the tunnel. No matter how many times I rubbed at it, or blinked rapidly, whatever was crammed toward my senses, it would not leave. I know when I went home that night, I passed out within minutes. My head was not even on my pillow before my lights were off. I was dreading having to work again the next day. As much as I enjoyed giving my love to all of those animals in the store, I did not want my day to drag on with whatever was causing so much pain into my mind.

I don’t remember what had happened throughout the night. I awoke in what turned out to be two weeks later, with my arms strapped into a bed and I had no idea where I was. Panic began to overtake my body. I stared around the room, trying to understand what was going on. I wanted to scream for help, but before I could, my mother ran over to calm me down. I wanted to hug her, but couldn’t, since my arms were tied in. She began to explain to me what would suddenly pave a new road for me to travel on in life, one I didn’t remember opting for. She started describing how she had come up to my room to see what was taking me so long to come downstairs.

I am never late for work, but the clock on the wall in our kitchen was ten minutes past when I was due to punch in for work that day. When she had come upstairs, she saw I that still in bed, ignoring my alarm, just lying there, having unnoticed my messages and their calls. She walked over to wake me, and once was able to gain my attention, I had no idea who she was.

Seizures tend to do this to people. They can empty all thoughts from inside, cause loss of consciousness. I do not remember this happening, but apparently, there was the rapid twitching of the body’s limbs. They can interfere with the rhythm of the heart and breathing. There can be shortness of breath and choking. During a seizure, the muscles jerk uncontrollably. All of my functions, my words, I had no idea what had happened that night or any of the days after. My parents even explained that I was only strapped to the bed because I had tried so many times to remove all of the machines I was plugged into. There had even been a day I had attempted to hit a nurse, thankfully the one my mom wasn’t too fond of.

My earliest memory of the following days is waking up and seeing my mother’s face when I was speaking to her. I don’t know if I had had any conversations with anyone in the preceding weeks, but I do remember after, I began knowing what was happening around me, I didn’t need to be fastened into my bed anymore. I was beginning to understand what the doctors were explaining to me. When they were telling me why my headaches had started, not stopped and why I had had my seizures, I now began to wonder if my head would ever be the same again.

Sadly, it has not. Since the side effect to a medication had started me down this path in life, I now know there is always a possibility for me to have just spasm at any time. Twenty years later, I am still learning new things everyday about my Epilepsy. I can have my decent days, where I can remember something that happened five years ago. But, on my bad days, I usually forget about even the simplest things.

I try to convince myself if today was a good day, but was it? I have forgotten what my boyfriend had asked me to get at the store ten minutes ago. I don’t recall what the name of any person I had met the night before at a fun new gathering I attended was. I wonder how I can still get up every day and recall what medications I am supposed to be taking to ensure I won’t be jerking around on the floor. This makes me even more nervous on how my boyfriend would react if he had to see me if I ever do have a grand maul seizure. He has been with me when I’ve had petite mal seizure, which is me, just staring into space for a few moments for no reason. He has sat with me until they have passed. I still never want him to have to witness me if I was to have the “big one”. When my smaller one happens, I always look at him with my confused face as if nothing even occurred. He may have to go through one of the most terrifying moments of his life someday.; I know my parents have.

Without people who love or care about me, I will still always need help to learn something new every day.