Tech Stupid?

When I signed up for three business classes this term, I signed up for one 3 credit class and two .5 credit classes. The MCOM 3 credit class is difficult, no doubt about that. But the ISYS classes? We meet for 30 minutes once per week (we're supposed to meet for 50 but the TAs are like...meh). 

Yet I get THIS when I went to turn in my quizzes. Excuse me?!

My head is throbbing from a headache and I'm about to either cry, bang my head off the desk, or pass out.

I can't figure out how to get the damn thing to work either.

I'm not so stupid that I can't figure out how to work a feckin' quiz.

What the hell is going on here?

MCOM

This class is twice per week for three hours (2-5, right in the middle of the day) and is apparently too much for my brain to handle as I always fall asleep (I seriously JUST YAWNED thinking about it!). I honestly thought it was the new anti-convulsant I'm on and apologized/ assured him things would be under control the next class period but when it happened again despite my valiant efforts and my given word and even after chewing gum and having my phone buzz in my pocket every two minutes, I knew it was just me.

My professor is really nice and though his class is on the dry side, he genuinely cares about his students. I have no idea how to stay awake beside eating caffeine pills which tend to give me seizures. Key word on "give me seizures". My neurologist and I agreed that was not the only reason for my seizures but it was indeed related to the frequency and duration of the "events" as everyone seems to call them lately.

Anyone have any surefire ways to stay awake for three hours in a warm room while talking about punctuation?

I love my prof but his class is so very boring. His homework is busywork, which I can't stand. Practice exam, memo-drafts, group projects...everything I really don't like. I want tests, these memos, presentations, and research papers. I don't even mind his memos but drafts of memos that are only one pages long feel like a waste of time. I just want to write the one page and be done with it...

I would bring my laptop but the dumbass kid in the front row would figure out a way to act just like a freshman and suggest I bring in candy and doughnuts for the next class period.

Feck that.

I'm going to be on campus for 14 hours today. I kind of want to die?


-EpicEpileptic

Children :/

Why is it that I've become such a grouse when it comes to kids?? I used to love children! (Well not when they were crying or messing themselves...) I still like little kids- chasing games and swinging them around to their utter delight always makes me smile and laugh- they're cute. :)  Sure, they can have intense tantrums (I've stopped calling them fits because that's another word for seizure and a temper tantrum is nothing like a seizure beside the flailing that some kids exhibit) but when they're outside and free to roam, I love chilling with any kid. I've been told kids love me because as a rec therapist I have all the good games to play with them haha :)

Despite my enjoyment of children outside, it seems like every single time I'm in the library (the BYU EMTs and the Library Security both asked me if I'd stay on the 3rd floor as it's easiest for the paramedics to get to me if I happen to injure myself like I did a week ago...) there is a screaming child or crying baby just freaking out at high volume. I have to be in the NoShh Zone (a place for students to congregate to talk about group projects and the like) as that's the only place where there are computers and that's "The Place", I guess, for mothers to bring their young children when they need to be in the library. I know that the No Shh Zone means no shushing, but I almost feel like parents are taking advantage of that. If someone was yelling at the top of their lungs, people would think it was impolite and the glares from other patrons would usually be enough to get the person to control themselves and act like a normal person again (think Dr. Banner becoming The Hulk, then returning to his normal human state), but mothers don't seem to notice the way other people look at them (I'm pleased, and relieved, to say I'm not the only one with an incredulous WTF look on my face haha). Why is it that when mothers bring their kids into the library (a place for students to be able to focus on their studies and collaborate on academic successes and projects) they feel like they are completely entitled to ignore their obviously discontent children? I say I'm upset at the child and annoyed, but the truth is I'm most annoyed with the mothers. Children, especially babies, like the one I can hear screaming right now, don't have a choice as to where they go. Their mothers are the ones who take them places. A child clearly doesn't want to sit somewhere and "be held captive" haha. Mothers should, for the sanity of other people, and for the happiness of their child, find an alternative...something like....oh, a babysitter.

Maybe "because I'm not a mommy" I don't understand, but from my end it seems pretty clear...
When I go to the library I don't want to end up writing on the blog here simply because I can't focus enough to write true academic work; I want to be able to focus on lecture assignments and projects that need finishing, NOT listen to a mommy talk baby-talk to her wailing flailing child.

I feel mean. Am I being a complete jerk about this? I feel like at least my thoughts are realistic and understandable but maybe my impatience with parents lately is clouding my judgment.

I borrowed a set of headphones from a guy next to me, who shall be mentioned here in eternal thanks, named Stephen, and am embarking on an academic journey free from conniptions.

I'm probably going to catch hell for this post, in which case I shall certainly offer my opinion on the matter later...likely in my MCOM class?

-EpicEpileptic.

Newfangled Contraptions, more Seizes, and Psychotic Dreams

I have a professor who talked about a whole bunch of stuff on April 24th...the Tuesday I was still in the hospital. He apparently talked about something called MyITLab- a place where you can take quizzes as many times as you like until you get the grade you like. Sounds cool, right?
It probably is....except when you can't find it. I emailed one of the TAs and he said something about "what we talked about on the first day of class". I emailed back and told him I wasn't there the first day because of a 10 day hospital stay but he has yet to email me back. I hope he gets it before midnight, when it's due. I came in at 8:30, figuring a 20 point open notes/packet quiz would never take me 3.5 hours. I thought it would take me something like 15 minutes for each quiz (there are two 20 point quizzes which are apparently and assuredly easy). I find myself nervously sitting here waiting for an answer. I'm writing another program facilitation/intervention plan just to pass the time. I find I really enjoy writing them- it gives me an opportunity to be creative with a purpose. I make up clients and their histories, their problems and needs, then try to think of an out-of-the-box way to administer therapy.

Apparently writing FIPs is easier than using a program meant to make things streamlined and fast. I guess the "streamlined and fast" thing is only for professors?

As a student, I'm lost. What gives?


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Epilepsy has really been kicking my ass lately- Tuesday I had a seizure where I banged my face on a desk on my way down to the floor; blood was everywhere. So was drool and...well...other fluids. Worst part is that these stupid seizures have been happening in public far more often than I'd like and far more than they ever have before. I know have no control over it and everyone is so kind but I feel guilty that people have to help me. In fact, I not only feel guilty, I hate it. I hate possibly taking these people away from a legitimate emergency. The only time a seizure is an emergency is when there is blood (which is why I wasn't upset about Tuesday's visit from the Uni-town FireMedics) or if my seizure is lasting longer than 8 minutes. If that's happening then I don't mind waking up to the radio chatter, six people in intimidating blue, and blood pressure cuffs. Which really hurt after a seizure. I usually cry and steal the pulse-oximeter.  Postictally I get obsessed with that thing. I'm thinking about buying one and putting it in my "seizure box" so they can trick me into holding my own while they get theirs back. My brain is easily tricked! That will probably work, actually (hmmm.).

 The campus EMTs don't make a big fuss about helping me and neither do the city Paramedics, but I feel so guilty. I know it's their job and all but surely they have things far more important than watching a girl do a fish-out-of-water routine, bleed everywhere, and soak themselves in drool. I also hate that they've been happening in places where other people can see. I used to be able to seize in private- it wasn't that I was ashamed of it, rather that I feel like it's a more personal act- I didn't want people to see me that way because I didn't want them to put my in that box where I become "that epileptic girl" instead of EpicEpileptic- the dancer, linguist, patriot, poet, and loyal friend. I have many positive things in my life that I feel get overshadowed by my seizures. Maybe I'm wrong and it's just me being self-conscious but that's certainly the way I've felt these last few days.

We have finally discovered (well, have likely discovered) the cause of these freakishly frequent seizures; caffeine. I began taking Excedrin Migraine for my constant headaches and the staggering amount of caffeine was making my brain go NUTS. I took it earlier today before I talked to my doctor and I'm not taking it ever again unless it's in a controlled environment (I'm taking Advil LiquiGels. They were doctor recommended :) )

Basically he told me I was going to seize until all that shite got out of my system. All I could say was, "Oh joy."

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Funny note- I had a dream last night (after the police man deposited me on the couch where I proceeded to sleep for 11 hours like an addict on a binge) that I was in hospital but had to play pipes at the senior ceili so I took out my own IVs and "escaped". Played just fine, went back to the hospital and was readmitted like nothing ever happened. It was one of those dreams where it felt so real I turned on my level-lamp and checked my arms for IV bruises.

I am not a daydreamer.......

I had a dream last night (after the police man deposited me on the couch where I proceeded to sleep for 11 hours like an addict on a binge) that I was in hospital but had to play pipes at the senior ceili so I took out my own IVs and "escaped". Played just fine, went back to the hospital and was readmitted like nothing ever happened. It was one of those dreams where it felt so real I turned on my level-lamp and checked my arms for IV bruises.

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In my last post I told you all about a professor of mine that treated me like a regular person after a seizure and how much I really liked that. He didn't make me feel funny or awkward. Well for every reaction there is an equal opposite reaction. One of Newton's Laws.

I have a professor that isn't like that at all. I missed a chunk of information when I had a staring spell and when I asked him if he could repeat the all of three sentences I'd missed, he glared at me and told me that I should pay better attention and stop daydreaming. Being judged by eyes is hard enough but when people come out and say things like that, it really cuts me. It was the last straw really and I got emotional as I told him it was none of his business but that I wasn't daydreaming, I was having a seizure. He told me the only kind of seizures people had were convulsions. I told him he needed to read a legitimate medical book and stop being so rude to students, especially the ones that are explaining something important to him; that he couldn't tell if someone had epilepsy just by looking at them. He was saying something about how difficult it was to be a professor and how if he had to go back and repeat himself every five minutes we would never get through the material. I could only say, "I'm sorry, Professor. You're right. Who am I but a number on your roll sheet? I was too presumptuous to assume I actually had a name. You've only been teaching this class for 20 years. The same material day in and day out, every single semester. You have the same tests from 10 years ago and you have TAs that grade all of your papers and tests and quizzes for you. The only thing you have to do is press that tiny button that changes the PowerPoint slides. Your life must be so hard."

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I have a professor who talked about a whole bunch of stuff on April 24th...the Tuesday I was still in the hospital. He apparently talked about something called MyITLab- a place where you can take quizzes as many times as you like until you get the grade you like. Sounds cool, right?

It probably is....except when you can't find it. I emailed one of the TAs and he said something about "what we talked about on the first day of class". I emailed back and told him I wasn't there the first day because of a 10 day hospital stay but he has yet to email me back. I hope he gets it before midnight, when it's due. I came in at 8:30pm, figuring a 20 point open notes/packet quiz would never take me 3.5 hours. I thought it would take me something like 15 minutes for each quiz (there are two 20 point quizzes which are apparently and assuredly easy). I find myself nervously sitting here waiting for an answer. I'm writing another program facilitation/intervention plan just to pass the time. I find I really enjoy writing them- it gives me an opportunity to be creative with a purpose. I make up clients and their histories, their problems and needs, then try to think of an out-of-the-box way to administer therapy.


Apparently writing FIPs is easier than using a program meant to make things streamlined and fast. I guess the "streamlined and fast" thing is only for professors?


As a student, I'm lost. What gives?
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Tonic-clonic seizures have really been kicking my ass lately- Tuesday I had a seizure where I banged my face on a desk on my way down to the floor; blood was everywhere. So was drool and...well...other fluids. Good think I always carry extra trousers. Talk about embarrassing :/ It was 11:45 or whatever and everyone was peacing out of the library as they were wheeling me out on a gurney with a sheet over me and gauze in my nose trying to stop the bleeding. I had blood all over me and was holding their hospital pillow-case over my face to keep the blood from dripping onto the floor. I think having them in public is probably the worst part of it. I know have no control over it and everyone is so kind but I feel guilty that people have to help me. In fact, I not only feel guilty, I hate it. I hate possibly taking these people away from a legitimate emergency. The only time a seizure is an emergency is when there is blood (which is why I wasn't upset about Tuesday's visit from the Uni-town FireMedics) or if my seizure is lasting longer than 8 minutes. If that's happening then I don't mind waking up to the radio chatter, six people in intimidating blue wielding blood pressure cuffs.  I usually cry and steal the pulse-oximeter.  Postictally I get obsessed with that thing. I'm thinking about buying one and putting it in my "seizure box" so they can trick me into holding my own while they get theirs back. My brain is easily tricked! That will probably work, actually (hmmm.).


 The campus EMTs don't make a big fuss about helping me and neither do the city Paramedics, but I feel so guilty. I know it's their job and all but surely they have things far more important than watching a girl do a fish-out-of-water routine, bleed everywhere, and soak themselves in drool. I also hate that they've been happening in places where other people can see. I used to be able to seize in private- it wasn't that I was ashamed of it, rather that I feel like it's a more personal act- I didn't want people to see me that way because I didn't want them to put my in that box where I become "that epileptic girl" instead of the dancer, linguist, patriot, poet, and loyal friend. I have many positive things in my life that I feel get overshadowed by my seizures. Maybe I'm wrong and it's just me being self-conscious but that's certainly the way I've felt these last few days.

We have finally discovered (well, have likely discovered) the cause of these freakishly frequent seizures; caffeine. I began taking Excedrin Migraine for my constant headaches and the staggering amount of caffeine was making my brain go NUTS. I took it earlier today before I talked to my doctor and I'm not taking it ever again unless it's in a controlled environment (I'm taking Advil LiquiGels. They were doctor recommended :) )



Basically he told me I was going to seize until all that shite got out of my system. All I could say was, "Oh joy."


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I'm too tired to deal with all this nonsense. I don't want to do anything tomorrow- just read a leisure book, write another FIP just for fun, buy actual food, eat the actual food, and sleep on and off. I have my black-out shades that are extremely epic so I'll probably just hang those and pretend it's 3AM.

Seizing the Day

This week has been what could be described as the most mild circle of hell haha Monday kinda sucked because it was my first day of classes and I was assigned (this is a legitimate metric measuring unit) sh!t tons of work, all of which is due today. 2 memos, 4 quizzes, a test, an article, and a group activity. I've done the quizzes. Test, article, and group activity aren't due until 2pm so I figure I have time to write a blog post before I fully immerse my head in one of our study caves. :) I like blogging a lot- it's like an online journal of things you don't mind sharing with other people. It almost lets them step into your shoes.

Anyhow, in this class our prof assigned a group activity. I get nervous in group activities. I have no idea why beside the fact that I don't have a whole lot to say in a class unless I choose to speak.If I'd like to talk, I'd raise my hand. If I'd like to be silent, I'll be silent and observe with my arms crossed and my left leg tapping. So group activities are usually a no-go for me. Too awkward.

In this same class, a very interesting exchange happened; it cemented my view that BYU is really a glorified Disney Movie filled with people who have sometimes the most immature and ridiculous notions. I have to laugh though, it was so incredibly juvenile it was eye-rollingly hilarious haha. We had a general discussion about in-class laptop useage. Our prof didn't say he hated laptops and wanted to banish them to the deep abyss of our satchels, only that he was thinking about their presence and the distraction they could potentially cause (Oh, look! Suzy is on Facebook- awww, she's looking at her wedding pictures...and messaging her husband...while asking him about their baby. Wait, what did Prof say about commas?) but there was a random guy in the front row who said something like,"Using a laptop can be, like, a privilege- if someone notices someone else on Facebook or ESPN or something, a student next to them can say something. That person can then bring candy or donuts or something to the next class." I rolled my eyes and thought, "You have got to be joking." Our prof seemed to think about this but said something about losing half of that day's participation points instead. I didn't mind the whole "bring candy thing"- although I rarely eat candy since I went vegan- even though I thought it was ridiculously juvenile; my problem was the "report your neighbor" bit. For God's sake- I'm 23 years old and we're studying compound sentences, and appositives, for the uncountable time in my undergrad career. If I feel like checking my email for the 30th email I'd received from my ISYS class, I feel like I should be able to do that, especially since I sit in the aisle of the back row. No one's looking at my Facebook. Also, I use my laptop for accessibility reasons- if I have a staring spell, I can listen to the audio I've recorded and rewind to a part I missed. This kid can leave his laptop at home but I'm bringing it. Kid's got issues haha

Despite my good-natured groaning, my prof for the Monday/Wednesday class is incredibly nice; I discovered this when I had a small seizure (I stood up and stuttered something about cookie sheets then happily told the class that I have epilepsy- these are called partial seizures (only one part of your brain is tweaking) haha) in his class and when I came out of it he just said nonchalantly, "That was interesting. You know, you can probably get decently cheap cookie sheets at WalMart." When I looked at him like "Have you lost your mind, sir?" he said, "I think you were having "a moment". (I guess that's what he calls them?)You were telling us the merits of having your mother send some baking pans. Then you told us you have epilepsy. Again, interesting. Just sit and rest then and let me know if you need something. Alright! Back to notes." I blushed so hard I thought my face would explode with heat but it was a new sensation- the blushing quelled after a bit when I thought about the whole situation. The prof didn't make me feel like a freak, he didn't make a huge fuss out of it, and he didn't really care. It was like I'd asked a question and he was simply answering it. Monday ended nicely I suppose- dinner, bed. I had dry Top Ramen for dinner- a serious indication of my need to go to the grocery store. Ahh the life of the uni student... :)



Yesterday was hard too- it started off with a rather hurtful exchange of texts in which someone asked me why I asked them a favour but didn't ask how they were doing. They said, "You never even call me. Do you even care?" It put me on the defensive and I responded in kind with how hurt I felt that the only time they ever ask me how I'm doing is when I'm doing something epileptic or laying in a hospital bed; I took it further with the mention that phones work both ways. They called me a few minutes later but it was awkward because they probably wouldn't have called me if I hadn't said anything. They aren't really open about the reasons behind their actions so misunderstandings between this person and myself are frequent. Probably because we're alike in more than a few ways; we both have a tough exterior but have very soft hearts. "Keppra Moments" come on very strongly when someone says something that really digs into my side. I get upset in a more extreme (that's too harsh of a word) way than I would without the Keppra. I think it's the Catholic guilt ;)

On Tuesdays I don't have classes until 4pm when I'm TAing the university's Irish dance classes but I was on campus working on my FIP (an enjoyable but long degree requirement) since 9AM. I sunned myself in a few-and-far-between on-campus nap (I felt like a hypocrite as I take those Sleep and Creep pictures...it was almost with one eye open lest someone feel the desire to snap a picture of me sleeping haha), went to Irish, then my ISYS class which lasts 2 hours in a dark room (a recipe for awake fail). I was afraid as well about the contrast- when he was scrolling down I got an aura. It kind of freaked me out. I don't like that feeling at all (it's not like I don't know what could happen haha).

After ISYS I decided to head back to the library and work on FIP some more- I didn't even get the chance to sit down and take out my earbuds before this random guy started grilling me. I was like ??? as I didn't even know the guy and had never seen him before. What's your major? How long have you been here? Have you served a mission? How old are you? Are you getting any minor degrees? Why is it taking you 5 years instead of 4? Are you done with your religion credits?  Whew, slow down man! I couldn't work on my FIP with him talking to me incessantly like that and this stuff was...uh...let's see...none of his business? I was getting annoyed with him. I needed to work on this thing and I would smile and say, "Yes. Excuse me, I need to write something.", put in my earbuds and try to drown him out, but he would touch my arm, forcing me to take out my headphones, and engage in yet another conversation. I love meeting new people and talking but not when I'm trying to complete an extensive task! He was talking to me about Mormonism, he's philosophical Christian and I'm more Catholic than anything else at this point in my life (I realize constantly how very little I know about the Mormon church, which makes me feel like quite a bit of an outsider), but it was pretty harsh observations and though we were in the No Shh Zone I wanted to be like, "Dude, keep it down. They're going to kick us out if they hear you talking like that and I'm over this philosophical debate about Catholicism and the vows I made in the Catholic church and how they could be wrong. I want to write a program plan for a girl in the state hospital who is contemplating suicide, okay? Please just shut up! Thaaaank you!" :)

I stayed until about 10:45 and my FIP is almost done but I'm going to ignore anyone who accosts me in attempt for a conversation. Unless it's an EMT- then I'm always grateful to talk. Those guys/girls are my fecking heroes. I love them deeply. I'm their favourite epileptic...we all know that haha

Anyhow, I got off-track. During this annoying exchange, I felt an aura. I smelled bleach (an indicator) and paint but they had been doing construction so I figured my nose was a bit plugged and I was "smelling wrong" haha. I continued to type FIP and my fingers felt cold all the sudden...then they became numb. Aura!! Yay!

 I packed my satchel, nodded at Philosophy Dude like "Bye..." and walked up to the security desk and asked to have EMTs look after me while I seized. They called 911, which made me feel really bad, and they took good care of me but during my pre-ictal phase I wanted to sit up- they didn't realize I was in a seizure state and so when I fell I hit my face on a desk. Cue copious amounts of blood. To make matters worse, my clonic movements had me kitting my own knuckles into my face, smearing the blood everywhere and making it come even faster. Add drool on top of that and you have an extremely sexy combination.When I was postictal I was upset because I'd ruined (admittedly one of my very favourites) my shirt and I was having trouble thinking clearly. I was still in a seizure state. The BYU police woman who'd arrived first drove me home in one of the police cars- it was embarrassing though because I couldn't walk well enough so they wheeled me out (it was 11:45 so everyone was peaceing out of the library as fast as possible) on a stretcher and everyone was staring. I was covered in blood and was still a bit twitchy and I was stuttering a lot so I can see how that had merit but it was still awful. I soaked my clothes in cold water but there was so much blood it looked like someone had taken red food dye and squirted it evvvvverywhere. It was awful. I had to drain the sink about 6 times to even get slightly clear water. Nasty.

Anyway, I got about 5 hours of sleep so I'm probably going to seize again. I'm strangely okay with this- I'm going to sleep the whole day tomorrow anyway so I don't see a problem except for the EMTs are going to come again and I'll feel guilty. They were assuring me though that I was "a champ" as I was so well-prepared for everything (extra trousers, a sticky note with meds/my "not-injured no hospital" instructions/ a funny note for the EMTs/ my pill bottle with meds (it was 11 when they arrived and I was supposed to take them at 9 but Mr. Philosophy kept talking for ages so I wasn't able to get up to a water fountain...dumb). They were telling me about a guy a few years before that had epilepsy as well but he never took his meds so they went for him allllll the time. They were like "Seriously, that was annoying because he totally could have at least tried to do something about it. At least your doctors are working with you and you're trying to get control over everything. We're cool with coming to you- you have a great attitude and we basically just have to make sure you don't bang into stuff."

That's me, an exemplary patient! Even after some sleep I still feel like I got kicked in the face. My nose feels broken (it's not) and if I touch it wrong (I put Vaseline in my nose at night to keep it from getting too dry)  the blood begins pouring.

I just have to get through FIP and this business class. Aaaaaaaah.

After the business class I can stumble home, slip into some dance leggings, pull my duvet over my head, and glide into sweet oblivion at 5:30. I'll probably sleep 15 hours. It's going to be wonderful!

-Epic Epileptic.