Spelling Out the Connection Between Mind & Body

Spelling was never really my strong suit. As a visual and auditory person (oh yes I can go on at length as my phone bills indicate), I tend to have to see a word to spell it. I'm not a big anagram person. Scrabble is my idea of hell.

However, I do write for a living. Not in the "let me call my literary agent to review my latest tome" way but in the more mundane barrage of emails, articles, letter and contracts. I try to use my words to make complex and theoretical ideas concrete and accessible.

I was deeply in love with Spell Check before my most recent seizure. The clever ways He suggested words so close to what I was seeking. He was like automated poetry. He grew to know my weaknesses. Despite three years of law school, he understood that I needed help with "jugment"; it recognized that I never "concieved" a way to remember the exceptions to "i before e"; it was charmed by my creativity towards "hypenation" and "compoundwords."

The delicate red lines under my misspelling were from the pen of the mysterious and seductive stranger with perfect mastery of the English language. We flirted back and forth and saved letters from dreaded spelling faux pas (faux paxes?).

But lately brain has introduced a me to a new partner to the writing dance. This new arrival lacks the suaveness of Spell Check. He doesn't know the steps and tends toward toe-crushes, interrupting the whole flow of the writing dance. I've named him THE DISRUPTER.

The Disrupter is the frustrating interruption between my thoughts and my speedily typing fingers. Under his influence words disappear. When he's around fingers repeatedly refuse to type a phrase property...proberly...properly. Sneaky spelling errors sip in eluding Spell Check's steadfast watch.

When I'm not procrastinating (rarely) and allow time for editing, Spell Check and I unite against The Disrupter. But this new arrival illustrates the small but constant adaptations that go hand-in-hand with epilepsy. Will the Disrupter will forever be trying to get first two dances at the Netherfield of my mind? Is this a brain SNAFU that fade from the scene as time passes?

It is a small way that I'm better understanding the mind-body connection. What is more frightening that an initial diagnosis of a condition is seeing how it shows up daily in constant, small interruptions. The constancy of small new problems takes surprising energy to solve. Like mosquito bites in the middle of your back permanently--they are always there and you can't ever get them scratched to satisfaction. It's almost as hellish as Scrabble.

BTW, this post is my disclaimer to all spelling nazis. Snotty spelling comments may result in swift, painful death. grammar freaks--this means you too.