Sunday, October 28, 2007

Whither imagination?

A strange observation perhaps, but it appears that I have lost my imagination. Not completely, of course; I can't imagine, if you'll excuse the pun, what that would be like. But what's gone is my creativity. I used to write a lot. I'm not saying any of it was necessarily any good, but people seemed to enjoy it. I've actually written two novel-length stories. Most of it was humour, some of it was black humour, and I really enjoyed writing it. I would write when commuting, I would write on holiday - whenever. But now I just can't get started. I don't think it's writers block, because it's not like I'm stuck on any one thing, it's just if I try to start writing something, I just think it's rubbish or disinteresting or I can't get into the flow. It truly is most infuriating. I also think it's probably the one thing (apart from not being able to drive) that gets me down about my condition. All the other stuff that people think I should get upset or depressed about with regards to having a brain tumour don't seem to bother me in the slightest. But not being able to write is a real bummer. I'm just glad that my income doesn't depend on it.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Oops - I done it again!

I've had two more seizure attacks and you could say that I was lucky because both occurred while I was in bed and both at weekends. I suppose I should also be glad that I am now able to recognise the precursor to the actual seizure. In all three last cases (the two reported here plus the one in the blog on the 1st of October) I have woken from a disturbing dream, although I can't describe what the content of the dream was, smelling this sharp and unnerving smell that I've described in previous blog loggings. I wake up and smell this and immediately know that things are not going to go comfortably. I can feel my body move into spasm and I try very hard to control my breathing and movement but it is beyond my control. One thing that is taught to people observing a seizure is that when this occurs, see if the person still recognises their name. It's a bizarre idea, but it works. As long as the person thrashing, dribbling, keening and so on recognises their name then there's no need to call an ambulance. They're still all right.

Bollocks.

If I'm in that state, I want Captain Scarlett, Doctor Who and Bones at my side within seconds.

The fucker is that I had gone 2 1/2 months without a seizure. (You have to go 12 months without a seizure before you can drive again). Now it's all reset and I've got to wait for another year before I get my licence back.

Monday, October 01, 2007

More about smells

I've noticed that I've become more sensitive to smells generally. Scents that I might have ignored in the past are now noticeable by their acridity. Some even seem to be "in my nose" - as if they don't really exist. I'm aware that I have become a little obsessed about these smells, although it's more a case of assuring myself that they are not precursors to a seizure as opposed to panicking about them. But they are certainly more noticeable than they were before.

The best way to describe them is if you imagine that the back of your nose is dry and then some acidic or alkalinic vapour runs past. Because your nose is dry, it can't detect the scent as it normally would, but instead just detects the caustic effect it has on the visceral tissue. An exaggerated equivalent of that is what I experience shortly before seizure, so I am sure you can imagine why the mere detection of something similar to this is disturbing.