I began dating my girlfriend on the 24th December 2015, and at this time I was seizure free, and a blissfully unaware epileptic.
Fast forward to a mere 6 days in the future, 30th December 2015; the day of my first ever seizure.
It started off like any other lazy Christmas holiday morning, we woke up, went downstairs to make coffee for her and a tea for me, and headed back upstairs to drink them in the cosiness of the duvet!
After having drank our drinks and talking in bed, my stare goes blank and I lose my trail of thought…
*Insert tonic clonic seizure*
As a new couple, like new new, my girlfriend assumed that I had just forgotten to tell her that I suffered from epilepsy.
She later explained to me that during my episode, she calmly talked me through the seizure and the ensue of a waterfall of snot and drool (I really know how to make a girl swoon!). Once I came out of my seizure, and what we both now refer to as my ‘floor dancing’ or ‘brain farts’ she got me up and into the car to take me to the hospital.
At this point I felt like I was just heavily hungover, with a bad case of beer fear amnesia, but as I came more around and was poked and prodded by doctors as a safety precaution, we both knew in hindsight that this would be the beginning of my epilepsy.
I wasn’t diagnosed straight away but was informed that I would have to hand over my driving licence for up to six months to make sure I wouldn’t risk my life or anyone else’s life, should I have another seizure and be behind the wheel.
This brings us to Seizure 2-
I was still working full time, and not letting the whole seizure blip faze me. Although I would be lying if I said reverting back to a bus passenger didn’t grind my gears just a little. Losing that slice of independence has seemed to be the hardest thing so far for me, but I will get to that later!
So here I was, 26th February 2016 standing at the bus stop at 8am waiting for my bus to get to work…
*Insert tonic clonic seizure*
I later wake up to find I’m in the back of an ambulance talking to two paramedics and wondering why I am not on the bus instead.
The amnesia was wearing off and I started asking the paramedics where I was and who they were, and why my face and chin hurt. They explained that I had face planted the concrete wall and floor of the bus stop and began my newly founded floor dancing, I was always fond of free-styling.
They carried out all of their standard checks on me, and I declined their offer to go to hospital. I may have a fair few tattoos but I am by no means fond of being a pin cushion for a blood test!
They were happy to return me home after contacting my Mum to return from work to keep and eye on me. I also explained that I had an appointment scheduled in mid March to see a neurologist and they seemed happy enough to let me rest my aching, convulsed body and scraped chin.
This also meant I got a long weekend off work as this happened on a Friday!
Every cloud and all that…