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.
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