To be upfront, I may have set myself up for trouble. There are two factors that might be in play with my seizures: travel and booze. This weekend I indulged in both--ha! I'd do it again (well...the traveling to see awesome friends). But the two or three beers I drank in the course of a perfect 4th of July weekend day I will forgo in the future. I've been testing the theory that these are contributors to the panicky symptoms that have inevitably preceded seizures. Travel was eliminated late last month but booze was still an unknown variable.
But now I know...no booze ever again.
Sighhhh....I loved drinking. It was my drug of choice for its social nature, competitiveness, snobbery, adventure and amusing/mortifying stories. It was a useful crutch for the stress of law school, loneliness and smoothed the path for meeting new friends. I was slowly but consistently working on maintaining the genetic propensity for alcoholism. In the last few years I've drank for the wrong reasons with lots of excuses that applied a nice gloss to the seedy underbelly.
I'm not ashamed of my borderline alcoholic drinking habits--it was a tool to address a period of anxiety and sadness. Not the best tool perhaps, but where there's life there's hope that we'll recognize our own stupidity and make some changes.
So cutting back on drinking after my diagnosis in November wasn't a big deal. But though the logical part of me knew I should probably let it go entirely, the defiant Emily DID NOT WANT TO (insert stomping foot where appropriate). I didn't want to believe that something I enjoyed so much would have to be fully ejected.
"A drink now and then can't hurt me," I reasoned. In the last six months, every time I've had an adult beverage I've had a seizure shortly thereafter. There have been other factors that I could blame--stress, medication dosage, the disruption of travel--but the booze was a consistent variable. My final experiment with Corona Extra and a reasonable Belgium White is conclusive enough. The drinking phase of my live is done. Forever.*
So dawns a new phase in my life: napping. Napping as self defense against my twitchy brain may be an Emily-shattering discovery. Here's how yesterday's experiment worked:
The Application of Naptosis Against Aaarghs in Epileptics Named Emily
Step 1: Normal pre-seizure panic feelings appear with a duration of 1 panic per 2 hours (.5 arrghs/hr)Step 2: Remove other stress related variables (call-in sick to work; stop trying to fix broken internets at home; put blanket over head)
Step 3: Apply sleep against panics (17 hours of zzzs per 5 panics= 3.4 zzzz hours per arrgh)
Step 4: Avoid seizure by going into mini-coma! Toast discover with champagne to repeat experiment.
Success Igor! Success!!!
*But don't think for a second that this means I won't go out to bars with you. Gingerale and bitters in hand, I will document all your drunken antics and then fund my epileptic lifestyle with straight out blackmail. Mwhahahaha!
2 comments:
Do you think NA wine is out?? Mike and I still have the bottle of NA sparkling wine (we were saving it for the "yay we're in the new house" celebration, but we were too tired, and after that other bottle, frankly too scared). I'd be happy to save the bottle for you. Really. I'd love to. Then I'd have a good excuse not to drink it. (is that wrong of me?).
Also, in regard to an earlier post (I'm catching up all at once, having had no internets for the better part of two weeks), you don't scare me now any more than you ever did. Just wanted to let you know!
Also, now that we're in the new house, I'd like you to know that we decided not to paint a single ceiling. That's right. Not a one. In fact, I plan on never painting ceilings again if I can possibly avoid it. You never know what might happen.
And Brother Mat can be your non-drinking zen master! It twas a truly superb weekend. Also congrats on your ability to foresee numbers between 1 and 36!
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