Brain Malfunction Alert!
The brain
is an interesting place, especially mine. Right now, my MRI scans are screaming
‘CLOTTTT’.
You can
google neurocysticercosis when you have the time. But the images will make you
lose your appetite. So you must check it out!
My first epileptic seizure had an
eventful entry. It happened when I was watching a horror flick! My husband only
considered two choices: either I was possessed by a ghost or I was playing a
prank. Sadly and scarily, it required a lot of medical attention.
Rushed to
the ICU, the doctors surrounded me like fat kids around a cake and bombarded a
series of questions.
‘Are you
stressed?’
‘Oh, very
stressed.’
‘Did you
anytime fall on your head?’
‘Everyone
who knows me, believes so!’
‘Did you
sleep well last night’
‘No, my
husband snored like a tractor!’
So tempted
to blurt out these responses!
Well, in
reality I was shattered and shocked. I was scared of myself, the jerks of
head-turning seizures and loss of body control. The first five minutes of ICU
are eye-opening in every way. You start loving everything about your life, its
schedule, people, memories, food, all of it. Suddenly, the apron- horde around
me left for a serious discussion and no visitor was allowed to see me. My only
source of entertainment in those moments was the already-high drunkard glued to
the next bed, tied with ropes. He sang songs and loved abusing the staff at random
intervals.
With so much alone time to think, I was still
digesting the situation. The staff stood far but cast quick glances at me every
now and then. I could hear phrases and words ‘so young’, ‘epilepsy’… ‘asking
for food’. Yeah, I was and I finished every bit of free patient food and
ignored the drunkard who thought I demanded his plate.
I am going to be super fit in three months, my neurologist tells me. But meanwhile, life is a struggle due to heavy drugs and brain
malfunction.
Everyday things have become a challenge and I
feel like I have aged 80 years. I never thought walking on the roads or
crossing streets would require confidence or focused work. Sometimes, the road
appears tilted, sometimes it appears loose like water. I fear that my movements
are not symmetrical and that people on the street are judging me. Sometimes, I
feel like I have fallen in a deep hole and can only hear the noises of the
world far ahead of the tunnel. The other times, I feel like the epicenter of
all the noise. Blaring horns pierce right through my head, just like the noisy
MRI machine that sucks me in. A walk from my cubicle to office pantry and back,
exhausts me. My head spins for minutes after I settle back in the chair.
Walking in
a straight line can be such a challenge. I invariably gravitate towards the
left and sometimes loose balance. My brain malfunctions are noticeable, as I
fumble for steps and words at times. I wake up to body pains at odd hours and
every day is a new pain. A new side-effect of the drug. Some days my knees feel
like someone has drilled rods through them, some days I walk in and out of the
same room several times to finish one chore. I feel like I am moving a lot, but
achieving little.
Sometimes I
catch him looking at me and wonder whether the doctor shared something I don’t
know! We are all about lovely silences and tight hugs now. We are adapting to
my anxiety and emotional outbursts. I am shaking all the time and feel like a
structure of thin sticks that can collapse anytime. I can’t order online food,
am only allowed to walk within the society premises and supposed to be
constantly with people.
That is why
placing food order online to delete the cart, going alone on quiet walks and secretly grabbing a plate of momo are my cheap thrills.
And it gets
better.
Today my
mom woke up to my abrupt phone call at 5 am. I called to convince her to watch
a historical movie. I sang the title track to her.
Let us
agree that my road to recovery is full of whacky behavior patterns.
If I miss
you, I will find you.
And bug
you.
That's a well written piece about patient perspective which a quite a few people are aware about. I applaud your attitude and can surely say that no matter what the physical representation of your disorder is the way you take charge of your recovery is what matters most. Thank you for a good read and wish you a speedy recovery.
ReplyDeleteSuperbly penned. Life has strange ways! Get well soon :)
ReplyDeleteIt can be only you, who can take things so lightly. I really can say *hip, hip, hurray'nothing else for the kind of attitude you have towards things which are so very serious for us. Many things to learn from you. God bless you, and I'm already praying for your quick recovery.
ReplyDeleteYou have written it so Nicely Sneha that made me ask myself how could she put such a stressful moment so jovially.
ReplyDelete