Everything Kept Crawling...
Previous - this entry written on April 20, 2004 at 2:15 pm - Next
Hrm. Ryan has gone. His shoes aren't here, which means he's actually Gone someplace. Wonder where?
*shrugs* I think I kinda annoyed him by coming back instead of going to the coast for the week... but after last night, there was NO WAY I was going to go spend a week away from hospitals in the company of my mother.
Apparently I'm not the only person who gets mild hallucinations when they have a migrane - this according to Ryan, half-asleep, last night, so I'm not sure how reliable - and this is somewhat comforting 'cos last night scared the crap out of me.
Everything looked like it was covered with a layer of dirt composed of zillions of tiny bugs crawling and skittering everywhere... sometimes bubbling up to form faces with dull blue-white eyes that kept staring at me. My mother was so completely drenched in these things that I couldn't see her face... the dirtbugs superimposed one of their staring faces and made the mouth move whenever she was talking, which was extremely creepy. Add in the fact that any time I saw two lights in roughly the same position my mind translated them into even more staring, glaring eyes, and yeah. Not fun.
By the time I GOT to the hospital I was unable to speak, crying so hard that my shirt was quite literally soaked, unable to move without falling, unable to make my joints work, and unable to see anything but the badness that was covering anything. There were a few people who were almost completely clean - thank the gods, most of the nurses were appearing as people, or I would have tried to run - but nearly everyone else looked frightening enough that I couldn't calm down.
At this point, being fairly aware that this was NOT how things normally look, I was pretty certain I'd flipped, and was completely crazy. I couldn't communicate, and every time I tried to think or talk the headache only got worse. The bright lights of the hospital also made it worse, which in turn made communication extremely difficult.
I'd taken my dose of amatryptaline a few hours back while waiting for my mother to get out of the Verizon with her phone fixed since I was already starting to feel jittery and my head was starting to pound. I'd figured hey, I could get some sleep on the way to the coast, stumble up to bed, sleep some more, and then I'd feel fine in the morning. I think that amatryptaline is about the only thing that saved me, despite how much it ended up upsetting me as well (more on that in a minute). When it started kicking in I couldn't help but relax, half-asleep and all foggy, which let me calm down enough to cope with the pain... and this in turn made it able for me to drag my brain back to a point where it was at least semi-functional, which let me calm down more, and so on. The downward spiral reversed itself and I pulled out of it.
However, what bits of panic were left had me convinced that if I fell asleep I either would wake up to find that all the things I was seeing were real... or that I wouldn't wake up at all. I had a hard time explaining this to the various doctors, nurses, and my mother who kept suggesting that they lower the head of the bed so I could lay down and sleep. My mother actually tried to push me down into it at one point. *twitch*
Fish, they did a CAT scan - no serious abnormalities, no blood, nothing to indicate that this is a life-threatening problem or even one that's likely to ever occur again. Since my seizures are stress-related to a fairly large extent it's unsurprising that the combination of things that happened did so: I was alone in a dark car, strangers walking all around and behind me, knowing I was going to the coast away from hospitals and friends, with my mother, starting to have a migrane that got worse when I moved (yes, like Ryan's, thus the worry), quickly losing my ability to process speech, my hands shaking, my vision going out in odd ways... yeah. It all just kept pushing me deeper and deeper into panic.
When my mom finally came out I was well into it, and her presence and apparent appearance only made it worse. I managed to get her to call Ryan (I still can't exactly remember how) and Ryan basically blackmailed her into taking me to the hospital. We were there until about 3:00-3:30 in the morning... and while there they tried to give me a dylantin IV. Normally this would just be a sucky thing, but in this case it was a seriously BAD thing.
See, the IV catheter in my arm was already fucked up somehow - it had good flow, obviously it was in the vein, but it was extremely painful and my veins kept spasming around it. When they put in the Dylantin, diluted in saline so it wouldn't burn as much *snicker*, it felt like they were pouring red ants in. My entire right arm would stop functioning after about three minutes of steady drip, an area from two inches below my elbow to two inches past my shoulder and toward my neck was in so much pain I couldn't breathe, leaving me quite literally screaming. Yes, I still had the headache. Yes, the panic from this made my language go further away again. Yes, this made it EXTREMELY difficult to explain to them why they had to stop the IV.
...and yes, the fact that with my history, with all the pain I've felt, that this was bad enough to make me SCREAM through a migrane does indeed say something.
My right arm still isn't working quite right - my elbow throbs and my upper arm is twinging and spasming still. They got about half the IV in, which meant that I had to be woken up a few hours after I got home to take another large dylantin dose. *sighs*
Right now... right now, there's still something a bit 'off' to my vision. I'm finding words, obviously, but it's not flowing quite as smoothly as it should. I feel distanced. It's not a good and happy thing.
I really wish I knew where Ryan was, or when Becca was coming back over. Right now being alone is kinda frightening.
Maybe I'll go out into the kitchen... ack. No, I can hear kidlets shrieking from out here. I don't think my head could handle the noise just yet.
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