in Which our Heroine Airs her Dirty Laundry .
On Thursday morning I had a seizure, a facial tick that went down into the neck. Clearly my new anti-epileptic is a massive FAIL. So now I must set my medicinal pal free where it can fly in the wind, (much like dirtly laundry hung out to dry). Mine erstwhile medicinal friend was also messing with my ever-erratic emotions way too much—now that’s some grimy laundry for you, kind reader. Goodbye lamotrigine, and good riddance.
Enter oxy… something. Ah, here it is: oxcarbazepine. (Who names this stuff? It’s ridiculous). Another anti-eppiletetic, eteleppic, epliteptic, epileleptic. Try saying it three times fast. Ready, set GO!
So far I am really, incredibly, unabashedly, furiously dizzy and off balance. I am an adept when it comes to walking into furniture. Thus far my wonky combination of lamotrigine and oxy-something seem to be a 24/7 thing rather than the previous 3-4 hour torture that has been my life every day from 11 to 3 pm. I hope that I will feel better when current archenemy No. 1 is purged from my system. I will know in four months time. If that doesn’t work then I will begin, or possibly go back, to a different medicine. Or perhaps a combination? Up and Down, Up and Down. I have always loved roller coasters.
It’s rough, and I will tell you truthfully that this has been an eventful, frenzied, confused, out of the ordinary, awful week for these and other reasons I cannot articulate at this time. But I will survive, prevail, triumph over, keep my chin up, fight the good fight, and continue on. Think of how much I’ve already been through. Nothing can stop me now. Except that I have to wait another six months to drive legally. Nevertheless, I continue on with optimism, though it be at a slower pace. Kind of like fresh, white, clean laundry blowing gently in the breeze in a quaint mountain valley.