A Tiresome Intrusion: Epilepsy Follow-up Care

It’s about that time again. Once every 6 months or so I get to head in and have a chat with my neurologist about the disability that isn’t obesity: Epilepsy.

Guess what day tomorrow is?

This Is The Song That Never Ends

I don’t chat much about epilepsy these days. My battle against obesity has so many more facets to it that it just makes a much more compelling story.

Epilepsy, on the other hand, is just sort of there. Like those unattractive freckles, or the paint in that one room you never got around to touching up, it is simply an unwanted part of your life that you learn to work around. There will be no great success story about it like there has been about overcoming obesity. Every step forward is merely an incremental increase in seizure control. The disease then fights back by mutating and developing into new symptomology. Not exactly the stuff of compelling storytelling.

What Does Not Kill Us, We Learn To Live With

But, at the end of the day, epilepsy probably shapes more of my day-to-day life than obesity ever did.

I still can’t drive a car legally. I have to check in multiple times a day with someone to let them know I am still in control of my mental faculties. My memory is filled with gaps – both long-term and short-term. I take a handful of brain-altering drugs twice a day every day to control seizure activity. This on top of the metal implant installed over my heart that tries to regulate electrical activity in my brain.

But, still, every once in a while, an invisible entity takes over control of my brain for a period of time. Afterward, I just wait for the mental lights to come back on. Then, I go about my business as if nothing ever happened.

It is a weird, weird, condition to live with.

Oh Wait, That Wasn’t Me

During seizures I will sometimes stare at my keyboard, unable to remember how to type. I have been known to “remember” things that never happened to me. My latest seizure development is spatial confusion: for short periods of time, I think I am somewhere that I am not. Just a few days ago I was convinced I was in my apartment in Las Cruces, and couldn’t figure out why the front door was in the wrong place.

I haven’t lived in Las Cruces for 10 years.

So, yeah, I prefer talking about weight-loss. Thanks to bariatric surgery I can now control my diet, control my exercise, control my progress in combatting my condition. Control is a really big concept to those of us suffering from a seizure disorder.

So, don’t think for one minute that epilepsy is no longer important to me, or that I have stopped paying attention to it. Far from it. But at my bariatric appointments, I get to see how far I have come. I get to fist-bump Lor and get congratulated by the medical staff on how well I have done.

Tomorrow, I may just get a slight change in medication dosage, in the hopes that a minor change in my seizures might take place.

Which would you rather write about?

Not Super Enthusiastic,

Jeremy

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