There's a first time for everything

I had my first ride in an ambulance on Wednesday due to a fairly large seizure in the early afternoon.  I didn't lose consciousness and I remember the whole event, but it was scary, nonetheless.  I felt my eyes shifting back and forth rapidly.  I then felt my neck stiffen and my hand begin to curl.  I had enough time to call for Anne, who I call for help often, but she said this time sounded different, so she came quickly.  She held me during the event while calling 9-1-1.  I stayed conscious the whole time and remember breathing rapidly.  My speech slurred and my left hand, arm and leg were foreign feeling to me.  For someone who has not had a seizure before, it would be terrifying, but I have had so many over the past seven years ranging from a slight pulsing dizziness to this one, which I would consider the largest, while it is still disconcerting, I know that if I can stay calm and breathe through it, I'll be fine.  I'm told by my docs that they are not doing any damage, as such, just reminding me of the presence of the tumors, which I kind of resent because I don't need a reminder; gentle or otherwise.

The ambulance came, they loaded me into it and took me to the ER.  Within 30 minutes my hand and speech were normal and I was feeling clear-headed and communicative.  They did a CT scan and some blood work on me and I was home by 6:30 after arriving at 2:30.  

The girls were concerned, but not overly so because we've talked to them about the possibility of being with me when I have one and what they can do to help me and get help for me.  Kelsey asked Anne about me having one in Hawaii and Anne told her the truth, it might happen and it might not, but to stay calm and call for help if it does; there's not much else we can do than that.  They did prescribe an adjunctive anti-seizure med that will hopefully prevent the big ones from breaking through the first line of defense medication, so that's good.

We saw the plastic surgeon yesterday.  He didn't close the wound up, but did say the we'd take another look at doing so when we return from Hawaii; we're trying to avoid a larger operation that would involve taking a strip of muscle from my back to close the hole in my head.  That's eight hours of surgery I can do without, I think.  I'm confident that there's another way and that he'll find it, possibly with the help of UCSF, which he's very open to.

For now, all is good.  The official countdown to Hawaii has begun; two weeks from today - none of us can wait to go.