The Chronic Shebrew: Tonic-clonic/Grand Mal Seizure.

I just had one. Scariest experience of my life. Here it is two days later, and I'm still trying to recover from it. First of all, what is a Tonic-clonic/Grand-Mal seizure? Since I was the one experiencing it, I didn't know what it looked like. Well, there's this beautiful thing called Youtube. I made the mistake of watching it, and it scared me even more.

All I remember was telling my husband I had just bought some super sexy shoes. Next thing I know, there are six, huge, EMT's standing over me. "What the heck?" "What's going on?" I am deathly afraid of needles, and don't even notice as an IV is jammed in my arm. I remember my seven year old crying as I'm being taken to the ambulance in a stretcher. "Alee, don't be afraid. I'm alright." Alright. What is alright? I heard the words, but I didn't understand what they meant. "What's the date?" "Um.... January?" "Who is the president of the United States?" "Obama." Why is he asking me these questions? "Who was the president before him?" Oooh, I don't wanna go to the hospital! It's a Friday night, I'm fine! "Uh, Bush." "Do you have any health problems?" I know this, I know this! "No." Wait, that's not right. There is SOMETHING wrong with me? What is it....? "Hypoglycemia." "I have hypoglycemia." There, I knew it wasn't that hard to form a thought. "And...." Crap, I know there's something else... "Oh, Fibromyalgia, and Multiple Sclerosis!" Now I'm in the hospital. I don't know how I got here. I don't remember coming in at all. Why am I here? Where is Adam? "How tall are you?" "5'6." "Are you allergic to anything?" What does THAT matter??? Leave me alone, I wanna go home! "Do you spell that with an "o" or an "a?" "Um, an "a." Without any explanation, I'm hooked up to an ECG to monitor my heart. "Sorry, I kinda need to put them up there..." "Honey, I have four kids! I lost my modesty a long time ago!" Giggles. Why are we laughing? There is nothing funny about this. I am in an emergency room and I have no idea why. I am getting hooked up to a bunch of stuff and I don't know why. WHAT HAPPENED?!?!? CT SCAN. What for? MRI. "Make sure not to move." "Okay, sure thing!" Then finally, "your family is here, do you want them in here?" "Um, yes, of course!" My husband comes in with red, puffy eyes. "What is going on?" "You had a seizure. Hun, I thought you were dying in my arms!" "A seizure?" I don't have seizures. "Did you call my mom?" "Yes." ".....So, what happened?" "We were just talking. Then all of a sudden all your muscles locked up. You were foaming at the mouth and didn't breath there for a while. You were like that for two minutes. You don't remember anything?" "No. I remember talking to you, I remember the EMT's in the house, and now here I am." As far as I was concerned, nothing happened. I didn't feel any different, and I sure didn't remember anything. Turns out I had a Grand Mal seizure. It was caused from taking my Tramadol with my anti-depressant. I was told it was a risk by my doctor, but, "if you've never had seizures before, it should be fine." Turns out low blood sugars make having a seizure easier, too. He never asked me that. So, I was told to go home. Get off the Tramadol. Okay. I did, and I did. I am no worse for wear, psh, I don't even remember it! No problem! My husband's a little shaken up, but that's to be expected! Whew, we're good then? No, yeah, turns out we're not good.

Turns out the next day would be a pain like I have never felt. Not like the flu, not like Fibromyalgia, not like a long hike. I've done all those before, but have never felt this. Unless you've actually had one of these bad boys, I just can't explain it. Your brain is your computer. Imagine your computer telling you to lock every single muscle in your body. Every one. Not just the ones you need to hike. Every. Single. One. I am two days post seizure and it still hurts to move an inch. And holy tired! I have birthed four babies, had the flu, done many exhausting things. Who knew a seizure was this tiring? You guessed it, not me! And that's just the physical. I wasn't expecting the emotional side of it. Turns out seizures drain you in every way you can be drained. Now I'm pissed my house looked like an episode of Hoarders. No, no one can come when your house is clean. It's when you don't feel well and you have four kids destroying it. THAT is the perfect time to come over for an emergency. When the lady who can't go more than every other day to shave her legs, somehow went a week. The girl who washes her hair every other day looks like Mr. Wong's takeout today. In muh Hoarder house!!! Did I mention that?! Then the night goes into feeling inferior. I am a makeup artist. I take huge pride in my looks. So being caught off guard, by strapping, muscled EMT's? My finest hour!!! Followed, yes, of course it was followed by something worse, a gorgeous female doctor who couldn't have been too much older than me. That bi*ch was skinny, gorgeous, made up, and did I mention she was a doctor? After being brought in by Playgirl, I am surrounded by, I do not lie, an entire female staff. Gorgeous, intelligent female staff. I look like crap for the guys, fine, but way to make a sick girl feel better. It was a rather bizarre night. And ya know what, if I hadn't just had the worst seizure known to mankind, I'd be judging me, too. But I knew writing about it would help me feel better about a dumb situation. It always does. So yes. Physically and emotionally, one of the hardest things I've ever gone through. I cried for two hours last night. Cried over the hairy legs, cried over no makeup, cried over scaring my husband, I definitely cried over my messy house. But. I cried most of all, because that was, hands down, one of the scariest things I have ever gone through in my entire life. I cried for myself, I cried for Adam's boss' daughter who has these, I cried for every person on Youtube that recorded themselves going through one. I cried over how unfair and unjust it is. I cried over the frailty of the human body. I just cried. I was terrified, and couldn't exactly say why. Will this happen again? Will I be alone? Will my seven year old have to call 911? These are questions I don't have answers to. It's the not knowing that scares me. How dare you be so weak and frail, body? I feel violated. I know it's a funny way to describe it, but there it is. I feel violated.

So here's to my ruining my naughty fantasy with an EMT, Grand Mal!