Like Rain In My Brain

My day went from sweet to lovely to exhausted. It's all right. I can still get an endorphin rush by brushing my hair.

Alison stayed over last night and left in the morning to continue cleaning up her grandmother's house in Silver Spring (Long story short, Alison's grandmother was placed in assisted living due to severe dementia, and Alison and her mother, who lives in Pennsylvania, have been traveling back and forth to fix up the house to rent it while Alison has been living in Boston with Bane. If Alison ever moved back to Maryland, she would live in grandmother's house rent-free and get roommates). Alison and I will see each other tomorrow, after Adam goes to work. Adam will then get on a plane and be in Phoenix, Arizona, until Monday or so.

I spoke with Dr. Lin, the neurologist, over the phone. She still wants to see me at some point in the next couple of months, because physical appointments are vital. I explained that since I keep a record of all seizure activity in one month, it would be easier to see her after another full month had gone by. She told me to just make an appointment in April. She asked how I was. I told her the Savella was working well and that I had gotten the full prescription filled. She knows I have financial issues and gave me the name of someone in the billing department that I can talk to about payment arrangements for future appointments. I am very glad and grateful to have any sort of insurance at all, and Adam and I don't mind making payment arrangements for my health. Dr. Lin still wants me to increase my dosage of the seizure drug. I told her I still had almost two months left of my 600 mg tablets and would fill the new prescription for 900 mg as soon as I had the money. She understood. I told her that I hadn't had any seizures since early February, but that I understood that she just wanted me to stop having seizures completely. To me, it still feels like a faraway, almost lofty, goal. But I understand it.
I hung up the phone, feeling good. Adam was in the kitchen preparing sashimi and miso soup with buckwheat noodles. I was leaning against the washing machine discussing my phone conversation with Dr. Lin. Suddenly I felt myself fall away mentally. I felt trapped in my body. I found myself staring blanking at the calendar on the wall without comprehension. There was no thought, no sense, no feeling, except a distant shiver. The next thing I remembered, Adam was asking me why I was holding the top of my head with one hand. I murmured, "I'm trying to make sure my head doesn't go away." Then I realized I'd had a small seizure. It most likely only lasted a minute. I found it highly ironic.

Adam suggested that I give the word "seizure" a nickname, since it can often be a sort of subconscious trigger. I am very, very tired and foggy right now, so I cannot think of a good substitute word, but it would probably have to do with storms and weather patterns. Easy to remember. I don't know. I'm going to have some yerba mate now.

Like Rain In My Brain

My day went from sweet to lovely to exhausted. It's all right. I can still get an endorphin rush by brushing my hair.

Alison stayed over last night and left in the morning to continue cleaning up her grandmother's house in Silver Spring (Long story short, Alison's grandmother was placed in assisted living due to severe dementia, and Alison and her mother, who lives in Pennsylvania, have been traveling back and forth to fix up the house to rent it while Alison has been living in Boston with Bane. If Alison ever moved back to Maryland, she would live in grandmother's house rent-free and get roommates). Alison and I will see each other tomorrow, after Adam goes to work. Adam will then get on a plane and be in Phoenix, Arizona, until Monday or so.

I spoke with Dr. Lin, the neurologist, over the phone. She still wants to see me at some point in the next couple of months, because physical appointments are vital. I explained that since I keep a record of all seizure activity in one month, it would be easier to see her after another full month had gone by. She told me to just make an appointment in April. She asked how I was. I told her the Savella was working well and that I had gotten the full prescription filled. She knows I have financial issues and gave me the name of someone in the billing department that I can talk to about payment arrangements for future appointments. I am very glad and grateful to have any sort of insurance at all, and Adam and I don't mind making payment arrangements for my health. Dr. Lin still wants me to increase my dosage of the seizure drug. I told her I still had almost two months left of my 600 mg tablets and would fill the new prescription for 900 mg as soon as I had the money. She understood. I told her that I hadn't had any seizures since early February, but that I understood that she just wanted me to stop having seizures completely. To me, it still feels like a faraway, almost lofty, goal. But I understand it.
I hung up the phone, feeling good. Adam was in the kitchen preparing sashimi and miso soup with buckwheat noodles. I was leaning against the washing machine discussing my phone conversation with Dr. Lin. Suddenly I felt myself fall away mentally. I felt trapped in my body. I found myself staring blanking at the calendar on the wall without comprehension. There was no thought, no sense, no feeling, except a distant shiver. The next thing I remembered, Adam was asking me why I was holding the top of my head with one hand. I murmured, "I'm trying to make sure my head doesn't go away." Then I realized I'd had a small seizure. It most likely only lasted a minute. I found it highly ironic.

Adam suggested that I give the word "seizure" a nickname, since it can often be a sort of subconscious trigger. I am very, very tired and foggy right now, so I cannot think of a good substitute word, but it would probably have to do with storms and weather patterns. Easy to remember. I don't know. I'm going to have some yerba mate now.

Like Rain In My Brain

My day went from sweet to lovely to exhausted. It's all right. I can still get an endorphin rush by brushing my hair.

Alison stayed over last night and left in the morning to continue cleaning up her grandmother's house in Silver Spring (Long story short, Alison's grandmother was placed in assisted living due to severe dementia, and Alison and her mother, who lives in Pennsylvania, have been traveling back and forth to fix up the house to rent it while Alison has been living in Boston with Bane. If Alison ever moved back to Maryland, she would live in grandmother's house rent-free and get roommates). Alison and I will see each other tomorrow, after Adam goes to work. Adam will then get on a plane and be in Phoenix, Arizona, until Monday or so.

I spoke with Dr. Lin, the neurologist, over the phone. She still wants to see me at some point in the next couple of months, because physical appointments are vital. I explained that since I keep a record of all seizure activity in one month, it would be easier to see her after another full month had gone by. She told me to just make an appointment in April. She asked how I was. I told her the Savella was working well and that I had gotten the full prescription filled. She knows I have financial issues and gave me the name of someone in the billing department that I can talk to about payment arrangements for future appointments. I am very glad and grateful to have any sort of insurance at all, and Adam and I don't mind making payment arrangements for my health. Dr. Lin still wants me to increase my dosage of the seizure drug. I told her I still had almost two months left of my 600 mg tablets and would fill the new prescription for 900 mg as soon as I had the money. She understood. I told her that I hadn't had any seizures since early February, but that I understood that she just wanted me to stop having seizures completely. To me, it still feels like a faraway, almost lofty, goal. But I understand it.
I hung up the phone, feeling good. Adam was in the kitchen preparing sashimi and miso soup with buckwheat noodles. I was leaning against the washing machine discussing my phone conversation with Dr. Lin. Suddenly I felt myself fall away mentally. I felt trapped in my body. I found myself staring blanking at the calendar on the wall without comprehension. There was no thought, no sense, no feeling, except a distant shiver. The next thing I remembered, Adam was asking me why I was holding the top of my head with one hand. I murmured, "I'm trying to make sure my head doesn't go away." Then I realized I'd had a small seizure. It most likely only lasted a minute. I found it highly ironic.

Adam suggested that I give the word "seizure" a nickname, since it can often be a sort of subconscious trigger. I am very, very tired and foggy right now, so I cannot think of a good substitute word, but it would probably have to do with storms and weather patterns. Easy to remember. I don't know. I'm going to have some yerba mate now.

Like Rain In My Brain

My day went from sweet to lovely to exhausted. It's all right. I can still get an endorphin rush by brushing my hair.

Alison stayed over last night and left in the morning to continue cleaning up her grandmother's house in Silver Spring (Long story short, Alison's grandmother was placed in assisted living due to severe dementia, and Alison and her mother, who lives in Pennsylvania, have been traveling back and forth to fix up the house to rent it while Alison has been living in Boston with Bane. If Alison ever moved back to Maryland, she would live in grandmother's house rent-free and get roommates). Alison and I will see each other tomorrow, after Adam goes to work. Adam will then get on a plane and be in Phoenix, Arizona, until Monday or so.

I spoke with Dr. Lin, the neurologist, over the phone. She still wants to see me at some point in the next couple of months, because physical appointments are vital. I explained that since I keep a record of all seizure activity in one month, it would be easier to see her after another full month had gone by. She told me to just make an appointment in April. She asked how I was. I told her the Savella was working well and that I had gotten the full prescription filled. She knows I have financial issues and gave me the name of someone in the billing department that I can talk to about payment arrangements for future appointments. I am very glad and grateful to have any sort of insurance at all, and Adam and I don't mind making payment arrangements for my health. Dr. Lin still wants me to increase my dosage of the seizure drug. I told her I still had almost two months left of my 600 mg tablets and would fill the new prescription for 900 mg as soon as I had the money. She understood. I told her that I hadn't had any seizures since early February, but that I understood that she just wanted me to stop having seizures completely. To me, it still feels like a faraway, almost lofty, goal. But I understand it.
I hung up the phone, feeling good. Adam was in the kitchen preparing sashimi and miso soup with buckwheat noodles. I was leaning against the washing machine discussing my phone conversation with Dr. Lin. Suddenly I felt myself fall away mentally. I felt trapped in my body. I found myself staring blanking at the calendar on the wall without comprehension. There was no thought, no sense, no feeling, except a distant shiver. The next thing I remembered, Adam was asking me why I was holding the top of my head with one hand. I murmured, "I'm trying to make sure my head doesn't go away." Then I realized I'd had a small seizure. It most likely only lasted a minute. I found it highly ironic.

Adam suggested that I give the word "seizure" a nickname, since it can often be a sort of subconscious trigger. I am very, very tired and foggy right now, so I cannot think of a good substitute word, but it would probably have to do with storms and weather patterns. Easy to remember. I don't know. I'm going to have some yerba mate now.