Normal = Good
2005-06-20 - 5:13 p.m.

thank you for your words of care and concern. I'm doing okay, really. Apparently, many hours on ice is a really, really, really good thing because waking up yesterday morning did not hurt nearly as much as I was afraid it would. With the help of a few strategically placed Thermacare pads, I am feeling almost normal. At least, as long as I stay still, that is. It's the moving and stretching that kill me. Not that I need to do much of that, taking care of my house and my son. No, of course not. Not at all. But I digress.

The worst part of the whole affair, other than the whole initial-pain-of-falling-down-the-stairs-part and the seizure-in-the-dining-room part (because now they're relatively sure I had a seizure, but more on that later) was the reentry into my daily life on Sunday. The walking into the kitchen and being greeted by a sinkful of dirty dishes, counters cluttered with the remnants of the day before, and the news that my in-laws were both coming for Father's Day dinner. I didn't scream and yell and throw myself about, though--I grabbed my timer, set it for 15 minutes and started on the dishes. The rest of the kitchen took another 15, and the dining room 15 more. Then the house was in good enough shape that the thought of my mother-in-law setting foot into it wasn't scary.

Dinner was yummy--mozzarella, tomato, and basil-stuffed burgers, grilled Brady Street potato wedges (a mix of white and sweet)and spinach salad, with a trip to Crescent Ridge for dessert. I couldn't have made an easier meal, and for this I was grateful. I was also grateful for the fact that my mother-in-law did the dishes. These were good things.

On the what's wrong with Jennifer's Head front...

My mom called my PCP this morning. I know this sounds ridiculous--I'm 34 and my mommy called my doctor, but she wanted to describe to him exactly what happened in my brief loss of consciousness and she was the only person who actually witnessed it, so she was the only person who could describe it. She says that my eyes never closed--just went all unfocused, and I became totally non-responsive. Then, she said, my head tilted back and I appeared to both stop breathing and start gagging. But my eyes were still open. Then I sort-of came around, and she said, "Are you okay?" I said yes, but then my eyes went all unfocused again, and I slipped forward, out of the chair, making the same gagging noise.

I don't remember any of this. None at all. The last thing I remember is sitting down in the chair, no matter how hard I think. Then--just the feeling that she was trying to wake me up, and blackness. I would swear I opened my eyes to look at her, although she seemed like she was at the end of a tunnel, but apparently my eyes just came back into focus again. It's all very hard to grasp since I don't remember anything.

JDP (my PCP) says that would qualify as some kind of a seizure, and he was surprised they didn't give me an EEG in the ER, though he also says that they do their best to get you in and out with as little testing as possible in there. He also thinks that what happened is most likely a response to the fall, but he can't say that for sure, and as a result he wants me to see a neurologist.

Perhaps he's just afraid he missed something with the dizzy spells.

I swear, if I have a brain tumor, I'm going to be really mad at him.

His flunky called the flunky at the neurologist's office, and they gave me an appointment for August 10. JDP found that extremely unacceptable, so he called the neurologist directly. They all seem to be somewhat afraid that I'll do this again while it's just Will and me in the house, though no one will come out and say that to me. I'm now waiting for a call from the neurologist's office directly to set up a sooner appointment.

I'm really working hard to not worry about any of this. The timing is too weird for it to have been caused by anything but the fall. Right?

Anyway, I dealt with my nervous energy today by making cupcakes. There are 20 chocolate cupcakes with buttercream frosting on my kitchen table, up for grabs. Please, someone else come and eat them.

Now I'm off to free the baby from his bed and start dinner. Normal = good.


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