I could tell something was lingering at the borders of my senses. I felt it in my face and my thoughts ricocheted between confusion and absolute clarity.
Brett and I were playing Trivial Pursuit and it was my turn to read him a question. I read the words but I couldn’t tell what the words meant. He asked me to repeat the question and when I did I could still not understand the words. (Brett could understand what I was saying and and he had no idea I was feeling anything.)
I knew I needed something. I grabbed a glass to fill with water but I spaced out on why I had the glass. I found my night-time seizure pills. At this point my right hand felt like it did not belong to me, as if it had fallen asleep. I felt more comfortable using my left hand to take my pills and hold the glass.
My right hand began to feel more and more foreign, and at that point I decided that I was having a seizure. It was time to take 1mg of Ativan–just like on TV.
I know this seizure-y sensation isn’t significant enough to bar me from driving, but I have to report it to my doctors–and that’s OK with me. I know it is best for me to be honest about the things I experience.
What shakes me up about this is that I almost forgot what it felt like to have a seizure come on. I can’t let myself forget that epilepsy is a side effect of my brain cancer.