I Express Myself Through Writing
Coming into the new year, I look back at everything that is now behind. This last year has been pretty intense. A lot has hit unexpectedly, and I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. The loss of two very dear friend, the birth of three grandchildren. The sudden move of the shop.
The biggest, most appreciated events have been health related, concerning my epilepsy. I am still trying to soak all that in. Being sent up to Stanford was something I had never even imagined. I didn't even realize they had a special neurology center. I've had epilepsy for nearly forty years, I've been through six doctors, and no one had even mentioned it. I think that is the most frustrating part of all of this for me.
When my current neurologist mentioned it, telling me that he was going to send me there if he couldn't help me, I actually walked out of his office in tears. He was someone who truly wanted to do something for me. Not the kind of doctor who's attitude was "take two of these and call me in the morning" like all the others. He wanted to help me.
Two years later, he told me it was time, that he was ready to send me up there, disappointed he couldn't do anything for me. Again, I cried. I was both nervous, scared, and excited, all in one. I'd never felt that way before.
This last October, I was set up at Sanford Hospital for an extensive EEG. All those that I'd had before were about an hour. This one was for almost five days, which made more sense. The only way you're going to see something is if I was actually having a seizure. DUH! Having those electrode stuck to my head for four and a half days was excruciating, but I survived. Having my mother come over from Maui to stay with me was a big help. She has witnessed some of my biggest seizures in the past, and doctors there weren't very helpful.
On that fourth day, when the Stanford team came to tell me that the EEG went well and that they could help me, my mother and I cried for at least an hour. We were finally seeing a light at the end of a very long, very dark, very frightening tunnel. With laser surgery, or a chip implant, there is actually the possibility of being seizure free. The last thing the head doctor told me before he left the room was "Let's get you off the poisons." I cannot tell you what that did to me, how that made me feel, as I am taking three different medications that are obviously not doing anything for me.
I go back up to Stanford for another test called a Functional MRI. With this one, I will be in the machine for about two hours. While I am there, doctors will ask me a number of questions. They are not wanting me to verbally answer those questions, but answer them within. With that, they will be watching to see just where on the brain those answers are coming from. The EEG showed the left side had more activity than the right, but of course, they want to be sure.
Then I go back in March for a couple other tests. Hopefully, following that trip, they will know just what and where would be the best for me.
It is amazing where the medical world is now. I don't know if this treatment was available 20-30 years ago. Hell, I didn't even know it was available now, until my new doctor said something to me. I am still in awe.
The biggest, most appreciated events have been health related, concerning my epilepsy. I am still trying to soak all that in. Being sent up to Stanford was something I had never even imagined. I didn't even realize they had a special neurology center. I've had epilepsy for nearly forty years, I've been through six doctors, and no one had even mentioned it. I think that is the most frustrating part of all of this for me.
When my current neurologist mentioned it, telling me that he was going to send me there if he couldn't help me, I actually walked out of his office in tears. He was someone who truly wanted to do something for me. Not the kind of doctor who's attitude was "take two of these and call me in the morning" like all the others. He wanted to help me.
Two years later, he told me it was time, that he was ready to send me up there, disappointed he couldn't do anything for me. Again, I cried. I was both nervous, scared, and excited, all in one. I'd never felt that way before.
This last October, I was set up at Sanford Hospital for an extensive EEG. All those that I'd had before were about an hour. This one was for almost five days, which made more sense. The only way you're going to see something is if I was actually having a seizure. DUH! Having those electrode stuck to my head for four and a half days was excruciating, but I survived. Having my mother come over from Maui to stay with me was a big help. She has witnessed some of my biggest seizures in the past, and doctors there weren't very helpful.
On that fourth day, when the Stanford team came to tell me that the EEG went well and that they could help me, my mother and I cried for at least an hour. We were finally seeing a light at the end of a very long, very dark, very frightening tunnel. With laser surgery, or a chip implant, there is actually the possibility of being seizure free. The last thing the head doctor told me before he left the room was "Let's get you off the poisons." I cannot tell you what that did to me, how that made me feel, as I am taking three different medications that are obviously not doing anything for me.
I go back up to Stanford for another test called a Functional MRI. With this one, I will be in the machine for about two hours. While I am there, doctors will ask me a number of questions. They are not wanting me to verbally answer those questions, but answer them within. With that, they will be watching to see just where on the brain those answers are coming from. The EEG showed the left side had more activity than the right, but of course, they want to be sure.
Then I go back in March for a couple other tests. Hopefully, following that trip, they will know just what and where would be the best for me.
It is amazing where the medical world is now. I don't know if this treatment was available 20-30 years ago. Hell, I didn't even know it was available now, until my new doctor said something to me. I am still in awe.
