Let me begin this log by giving everybody some clarity on the topic of seizures. A seizure is quite literally, in its very essence, like having your body possessed. And most definitely it is worse than A Nightmare out of Elm Street (for the afflicted and the viewer). My first seizure was what can be termed medically as a GTCS – Generalized Tonic-Clonic Seizure. It was a pretty serious one and from eyewitness reports I had my eyes rolled upwards, such that you could see their whites, my teeth clenched and my tongue bit. There was also some not-so-pretty frothing. Not to mention the fact, that I was shaking as if I had a 1000 volt current being passed through me. So, most definitely, NOT a pleasant sight or experience.
I also discovered that a seizure is crazy stressful and tiring, both mentally and physically. It left me incapacitated for nearly two weeks after. My muscles felt fatigued and tired, as if I had just run the whole circumference of the Earth in one go. Not to mention that hey, your entire recovery progress and recovery itself is at stake!
This seizure also had another very serious side effect, among many others. It caused me to stop talking and opening my mouth altogether. On top of this, they admitted me for a few days in the ICU (again!).
My injured brain started behaving like that of a child. Since the food being sent to me was extremely healthy and hence bland, it refused to eat it without creating a lot of fuss. My family, using their usual ingenuity and innovation, devised a way to get me to talk and eat at the same time. They would tempt me to eat a morsel of healthy food by offering me a deal. For every morsel of food that I eat, I get to eat one chip (and this chip was also one of those healthy, but tasty, ones). This chip would, of course, come to me only if I said “chip”. To get me to even open my mouth was another huge task for my family. This was because it was almost as though my mind had forgotten that it had to open my mouth to get food in. They used to spend hours trying to feed me because I, or maybe my injured brain, refused to open my mouth, like a child does when he is mad. This led to the usual antics that all adults do at some point in their lives to feed a toddler – sayyyy “AAAA”. And, of course, the chip technique, which turned out to be a huge success. I guess, I had a thing for chips (cyborg reference, to be covered in yet another log) from right back then. Needless to say, like kids, I even ended up biting their fingers a few times when they fed me.
By now it seemed that there were only two ways to make me talk – food & pain. And they didn’t leave any chance to get me to talk. And although it seemed too much of an unnecessary effort at that time for me, in retrospect, I realize that it was crucial in getting me back on track.
It would, however, become clearer very soon that there was one other (coming in next log), more fun and pleasant way, to get me to do that. Slowly but steadily, we were making progress with my recovery and fighting every challenge thrown at us. Nothing could have prepared us, though, for what the doctors had in store for us in the next few months and for the unforeseen internal shocks. Keep reading to find out in the next few logs…
Phew! 🙊