Epilepsy: Here We Go Again

Posted on by Accidental Spacegirl

This time, I have no glorious bruises to show you (which, for me, makes a nice change actually) but I do have some pretty epic injuries all the same. Therefore, it’s time for me to do some epilepsy awareness stuff again.

Blackouts. I hate blackouts. They last for mere seconds, but they can do a body the world of harm in that time.

epilepsy-s1-illustration-of-seizure

The epileptic storm cometh

 

The bruises from my last seizures have only just gone, yet here I am bedbound and in excruciating pain again. I was coming upstairs to bed when it happened: in the time it takes a person to blink my brain suddenly went out to lunch. I was more than halfway up the stairs, when all of a sudden I come back to my senses and find myself falling down them backwards – helpless to stop it, and only able to scream as I tumbled in mid air.

I’ve got a bruised shoulder, a painful bump on the back of my head, and I’ve apparently pulled a muscle high up in my left thigh. I can’t get downstairs at all, and I’m needing to use my walking stick and the towel rail to manage to get to the bathroom – I’ve now discovered that keeping my left heel off the ground helps to take the pressure off my leg.

I’d only just got rid of the bruising from last time (some of which I can share here):

In this instance, I’d managed to slam myself into the shoe rack as my brain fizzled out again – on Mother’s Day of all days.

I know I talk about this a lot, but it’s so important. Epilepsy is so much more than seizures: it’s days or even weeks in bed with severe injuries – sometimes the injuries can be severe enough to need a trip to A&E (not for me so far, but I’ve had ambulance rides because of grand mals). This is why I’m afraid to leave my house, or even my bedroom. This is why my husband always drives me everywhere, for my own safety and so that he can keep an eye on me.

This is epilepsy; this is my life. Sometimes it’s a small blip, such as last night, and sometimes the storm and the lightning hits me. The blips are actually the most dangerous, as I have no warning before they occur.

Please look after your epileptic friends or family. Ask them what they need you to do during a seizure. Stay with them during the episode, and call the emergency services if it lasts for more than five minutes, or if they keep dipping in and out of reality to go back to a seizure (that’s status epilepticus, and it can be fatal). If you see a stranger go down in the street, always stop to check on them.

Epilepsy is dangerous. I could have broken my neck last night (my husband doesn’t know how I didn’t). Please do not forget that it has the potential to injure, maim and kill.

11 thoughts on “Epilepsy: Here We Go Again”

  1. The last seizure i had definitely almost killed me. One minute I was on my way to classes & the next I was sitting in a farmer’s field in the wreckage of what used to be my car. That was in 1997 & I haven’t driven a car since. I’ve passed the amount of time w/out a seizure required to try and renew my license but I just can’t do it. The idea scares the crap out of me.

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      1. The only drawback is it’s made me into something of a hermit. It’s about 30km to the nearest bus stop as the crow flies, and my knee is not up to that hike, especially not in winter, so I only get out of here when I can bum a ride in & back. Doesn’t lead to much of a social life…

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      2. If I didn’t have a husband who can drive, I’d be the same. Taxis are expensive and I don’t dare get on a bus due to acute anxiety (mainly caused by my fear of having a seizure in public, alone).

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  2. I think most people think “just take your medication and you’ll be fine”, they don’t understand that epilepsy is kind of like depression – it comes in a variety of forms and isn’t always treatable, and just when you think you’ve got things under control, it sneaks up on you yet again.

    I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave your bed, and I can completely understand the anxiety you face. Life doesn’t half throw some muck at us at times.

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    1. That was the most accurate thing I think I have heard in a while – “well he’s taking medicine isn’t he?” I hear that so often, as if it’s some magical cure all pill – and it’s not. That made me feel that much better knowing that there are people who feel like i do, although i do not suffer from epilepsy myself, i feel as if i seconhandedly do, witnessing my son struggle with it so greatly, and people not understanding what its like, and the devastation and depression it brings.

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      1. I take my medication and I still have seizures – dangerous ones, at that (I recently broke my hip and needed surgery). Epilepsy is so unpredictable – no medication can stop it entirely.

        I miss the life I had before it took full hold of me; I miss my job, I miss getting on a bus, I miss not breaking bones. I really do not want to have another major operation just because my brain is wonky. I’m mainly housebound for my own safety, and would feel so very alone if not for my best friend, my husband and his family; they all check in on me.

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      2. This is is so true. This blog post was like a snapshot from my life and then reading these comments bring such a relief to here people who understand: it’s not as simply as a pill and “bam!” all is good to go.

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      3. It certainly isn’t, is it! I’ve been asked a few times now, how I could have broken my hip from a seizure, and people have been utterly gobsmacked when I’ve told them that I fell down the stairs and broke my hip in the time it takes to blink!

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  3. Thank you for the follow, greetings friend.. my son is on on the autism spectrum, he is seven years old, and was just recently diagnosed with a severe case of absence epilepsy, my heart goes out to you ❤

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