In my absence I’ve been reading the complete works of Louisa May Alcott (who I really must write a piece on at some point – a feminist ahead of her time). I’ve put my two largest Tarantulas (my Mexican Red Leg and Honduran Curlyhair) into larger tanks, and I now have a juvenile Red Leg, who I bought because a friend needed a new washing machine and had to sell a good portion of her collection off to be able to pay for it. Little Rogue – or “Dot” – has settled in beautifully.
I’ve been reading scripts for an actor who wishes to write for Doctor Who, and am being a friend to another actor who is a little bit down at the moment. I stick by all my friends, and so the idea of dropping one just because they’re an actor who isn’t working doesn’t quite compute with me – I don’t have to see this particular friend on TV to remain friendly, any more than they have to read anything I’ve had published.
But, as the title of this blog has probably already hinted, I’m not here to talk about any of those things today. I’m here to talk about when the needle in your brain skips the groove and creates havoc.
It hit me like a bolt from the blue. I was minding my own business, waiting for dinner and checking on my spiders. I suddenly felt dizzy, and the last thing I remember is whispering the word “Help” as I fell backwards.
What followed was an hour of horror as I slipped in and out of Seizure Land, followed by weeks of recovery and sickness. It was truly the worst series of seizures since I broke my arm in August. This is why I use plastic enclosures rather than glass, as the worst that can happen is that the spiders will get jolted, but nothing will be broken – we stick rubber feet on the bottom of each tank to prevent anything worse than that.
Nobody tells you that seizures can leave you weak and sick; I was physically sick for some weeks, and for the last week or so I was unable to keep my meds down and so there was no point in taking them. I spent a week surviving on chicken stock and water, but thankfully I am back to health now and my appetite returned.
With that said, I saw my neurologist on Monday. He was so shocked with my tale of breaking my arm that he’s introduced a new medication in to the mix – Epilim. This means that I actually have an epilepsy med to take in the mornings now, which I didn’t have before.
So far so good. We shall wait and see.