September 11th, 2006


Going home tomorrow!

No, I've not had another seizure.

No, they don't have sufficient data.

They realize they don't have sufficient data because they're not getting anything close to a normal level of activity from me.

So! Ambulatory EEG.

There are a lot of issues Spooky and I have with this, and with the way a lot of things here have been handled/are being handled; I'll talk about that elsetime, perhaps after coffee. What I'm focusing on is that last night = the last night of sleep dep, and tomorrow night I get to sleep in my own bed. With my cats, who I've missed terribly. And I get a real shower, and get to take a walk.

Now. Medicine.

The neuro in charge here says she spoke to my neuro, and that's where the recommendation for ambulatory came from. Okay. The neuro says they'll start me back up on my medication today. I told her that I had been having massive problems with this med, and don't want to restart it; she said - looking like she'd been prepared for this - that she'd leave that between me and my neuro, and that my neuro might talk about a change after she gets the data from the abulatory EEG.


So. This is what's going to be:

I will take the low-level dose of Trileptal tonight and tomorrow morning, to appease them.

I will go home.

I will not take any more.

I will promptly call my neuro and *tell* her that I'm not taking more, and say that I am open to discussing new medication options or getting a new fucking neuro, but that I *will not* go back on Trileptal.

*decisive nod*

I may not need much medication at all. If any. As I was just pointing out to Spooky, my life is so much less stressful now than it was when I was diagnosed. I need to look back and find all of my seizure records and track stress levels - but my last seizure before this was on what was supposed to be my moving weekend, so I was very stressed about that, and was the last week of Elayna's school, where I was frantically packing and organizing, and I was coming up on travel myself, and - boom.

But I don't have a crazy-ass boyfriend anymore. (Good line for when being hit on by crazy-ass people: "I'm sorry, no. Doctor's orders.") I don't have the job from hell anymore. There's been a lot of uncertainty-based stress in my life over the past few years, and all of that is gone or going.

Basically, all of my stress is over medical crap. And probably 90% of that is centered on the damn Trileptal. My fibro is difficult, but manageable. My heart and stomach issues are totally under control with meds that have few to no side effects. All of my agita is related to that one pill.

So! There's the plan.

I've missed my life.
  • Current Mood
    determined determined


Not long after I posted that, our favorite nurse came in with the Trileptal and Lyrica. I sighed about how much I didn't want to get back on the Trileptal. She said, "You don't have to take it if you don't want to."

I blinked. "Will that affect my release?"

We discussed. She called the doctor who wrote the order. Said doctor came in, and we talked (about a bunch of related stuff, too); she didn't feel comfortable discontinuing the Trileptal, wanted to leave it in my neuro's hands. I said okay, I understood. She left, and left me determined to follow upon my already-stated course.

And then she came back.

She called my neuro. My neuro says fine, just take the Lyrica.


So that's where we are.

I'm even more impatient now than when I didn't know when I was getting out, I think. Very antsy. C'mon, you don't need to observe me overnight! I can go home! Please?

...I miss my cats.

I want ice cream.

I want a nice long bath.

Free the 'song!
  • Current Mood
    hyper hyper

Today is silly.

* Band name of the day, courtesy of Spooky: Surprise Anal.

* I ordered a lovely female friend to take off her very pretty skirt so I could inspect it. And she did. I see her vagina almost every time I see her. I am amused.

* Things are happening fast - tomorrow will be removal of equipment, shower, MRI, and setting up the mobile EEG in rapid succession.

* My head will be swathed in cloth to protect the electrodes. I need fun hats. EDIT: I need a Jayne hat!

* Hi!
  • Current Mood
    silly silly
Capri - xanadumalion


Every month, she unpacks a box.

They're stored a floor below her penthouse prison, in a disused room; the Kirayth walk down with her, guard her. Some of them offer to go in with her, to help. She always turns them down. She needs to be alone with this.

A room full of boxes. The only material trace of her family's lives.

It was a year before she could come in here, a year before she first opened a box with trembling hands. Books. She started a small library on the ground floor of the Tower, in one of the old conference rooms - her mother's history and fantasy, her father's poetry, hand-scribbled in identical brown leather journals.

The next month, it was clothes. Her father's. She kept a vest, a jacket, and donated the rest.

The next month, her mother's jewelry. She kept it all, pushing small velvet boxes and pouches to the back of the bottom drawer of her vanity, scattering earrings like tiny stars in her jewelry box, stacking bracelets on the dresser, hula hoops of silver or colored glass, snakelike chains with sparkling stones.

The next month, her mother's files on House Tamra. She examined them all, studying intently - looking for a purpose, trying to see if it had been worth it. If the sacrifice of her mother's life had been worth anything, if she'd made a difference. If she should have just stood down, instead of continuing to defy Alanna and the Council. Did her courage help, or just get her killed, with none of it meaning anything? She gave the files to Fenris.

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do."

Month after month. She chooses a box. Kneels down. Caresses the worn brown cardboard, tears off the tape, and closes her eyes right before she opens it. Fragments of who her family was. Recipes and silk robes and old stuffed animals, mirrors and tiny blown-glass animals, drawings.

They are gone, her parents.

But they echo.

She opens the box.