I blacked out, and when I came out of it, the paramedics were overhead, asking me if I knew where I was. I didn't. At least not right away. Normally, my husband can sleep through a tornado, but as luck would have it, he was awake and had called 911 to rescue my sorry ass.
And so began my first of several ER visits over the years. I had a CT scan. That was the easy part. The hard part was that all anyone could tell me was that my scan was abnormal.
After an MRI and more tests, I was told that I had had a stroke, and put on anti-seizure medication and blood thinners, and was not allowed to drive for a period of time. Eventually, after going about a year with no seizures, the silly fools let me drive again!.
Shortly after that, my next episode happened. My son was in the car with me and I crashed it. He rode in the ambulance with me to the ER, where my mom picked him up and my husband waited. I remember he was into these action figures called "Rescue Heroes" and so he had a good time chatting up the paramedics.
To say I was scared shitless is an understatement. Again tests were performed. Straws were grasped at as "experts" tried to puzzle me out. Some said my potassium was low. Again there was that anomaly in my head. Again I was sent home. Again I lost my driving privilege. Again the seizure meds.
Then in 2006 this scenario played out again, but with a difference. I started going "gak" in my sleep, fell out of bed, went to hospital, had blood work done, and was sent home. Over the course of a month, I had three seizures, despite being on anti-seizure medicine.
Okay, we're now past being scared shitless. We want answers! Now! So I go see a doctor who looks at my chart and says "Let's do an MRI, It's been a few years since you had one." I'm thinking, "Yes, let's do that."
The next day, I hear the doctor wants to see me in person. My worst fears are realized. He tells me I have a brain tumor.
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