tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36700422026809150112024-02-19T00:39:48.187+01:00A day in the life of an EpilepticA kind of journal about my daily life with Epilepsy. Each case of Epilepsy is different but there are lots of common denominators. It's my hope that other's may learn from my experiences, and may share theirs by commenting, so that I can learn as well. My Epilepsy is in the right temporal lobe of my brain and is a partial Epilepsy with occasional generalized (grand mal) seizures. Thanks to medication I haven't had a grand mal since the end of 2012, but I still have complex partial seizures. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-56284850584381010962023-05-06T19:19:00.003+02:002023-05-06T19:19:56.669+02:00Another man assults women in their bathroom<p> This is a continuing problem. Who in the world ever came up with the idea of men being allowed to go into women's private spaces anyway???</p><p><br /></p><p>https://www2.cbn.com/news/us/infuriating-ca-teen-confronts-school-board-after-trans-student-assaults-female-students</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-14671062732862219572018-08-05T18:32:00.003+02:002020-12-19T21:14:56.147+01:00Man Nannte Mich "Flint Eastwood"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Wir wünschen uns alle dringend eine Welt ohne Krieg. Eine Welt ohne Armeen, Panzer, Kampfhubschrauber, Raketen und Bomben. Das ist jedoch weder in unsere Zeit realistisch, noch ist es in der bisherigen Geschichte der Menschheit möglich gewesen. Der Tag wird sicherlich irgendwann kommen, jedoch sind wir einfach noch nicht so weit. Wir sollten diese Wahrheit akzeptieren, sonst werden wir untergehen. </span></i></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><i>William Ralph Inge, englicher Autor und Tierrechtler,</i></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><i>sagte etwas sehr Vernünftiges in seinem Buch "Outspoken Essays" im Jahre 1919:</i></span><br />
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><b><i>"Es ist sinnlos für Schafe pro-Vegatarische Resolutionen zu verabschieden solange der Wolf andere Meinung ist".</i></b></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><i>Es bleibt uns nichts anders übrig als eine Armee und Soldaten und Waffen zu unterhalten, bis an dem Tag an dem die Wölfe ihre Einstellung änderen und keine Bedrohung mehr für uns darstellen.</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA_tBfR3xDRPz_a5p1YoNY8y_4No8HT9chpjaODFK2kZYFT6ZvYtQkjvvgDSt7nJHZE1nXckRDKQ9zhKsmV6tN-a8BX-URpgPVtmQZ5x3kB4YAy4PjeXdRYOTuRDBajowtuPMwBlOIDM/s1600/c28976b6a75677c037a041344cb9e938.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA_tBfR3xDRPz_a5p1YoNY8y_4No8HT9chpjaODFK2kZYFT6ZvYtQkjvvgDSt7nJHZE1nXckRDKQ9zhKsmV6tN-a8BX-URpgPVtmQZ5x3kB4YAy4PjeXdRYOTuRDBajowtuPMwBlOIDM/s200/c28976b6a75677c037a041344cb9e938.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">Ich versuchte mich unsichtbar zu machen etwa zehn Meter vom Pfad entfernt, vom dichten Wald </span><span style="color: #38761d;">umgeben. Ich nahm einen Hauch kaum vernehmbare Schritte wahr, Füße, welche sich stets ganz sanft abstetzen um möglichst geräuschlos aufzutreten. Sonst war nichts zu hören. Der Wald war von eine unheimliche Stille umhüllt, die Art Stille, welche nur herrschen kann in eine tiefgefrorene Welt bei knapp über minus 29 grad Celcius Temperaturen. Der Schnee, welche dem Boden bedeckte, war mit einer knackigin Eisschicht überzogen. Sehr schwer sich unter solche Bedingunen geräushlos zu bewegen, aber sie gaben sich sehr viel Mühe, diese Füße. Der Abenddämmerung lässte ein Gefühl von Surrealität aufkommen und dazu, das Gefühl, dass etwas übeles sich anbahnen würde. Der Feind hatte seit fünf Tage Angriffe gestatt zum Feier eines jeden Abenddämmerungs. Bisher konnten wir sie jedes Mal in die Flucht schlagen, die Frage war jedoch wie lange wir noch würden standhalten können. Wir hatten nämlich Männer verloren und wurden langsam weniger bei jedem Vorstoß des Feindes. Früher oder später würden zu wenige von uns übrigbleiben um die Angriffe des Feindes zu widerstehen. Das verbluffende an dem Ganzen war, dass der Feind seine Feldzüge in kleinen Gruppen von an die zehn Mann veranstaltete, was ausergewöhnlich ist wenn man vor hat es mit eine ganze Kompanie mit vierzig Mann aufzunehmen. Zumindest waren wir vor einigen Tagen noch vierzig Mann gewesen. Jetzt nicht mehr. Stat uns einfach platt zu machen mit einen großen Heer, umtänzelte uns der Feind in ganz kleinen Einheiten und fügte uns lauter kleine "Schnittwunden" zu, um uns "ausblüten zu lassen", sozusagen. Sie erschienen aus dem Nichts, stachen zu, und dann waren sie so schnell wieder verschwunden wie sie kamen. Jedes Mal waren hinterher noch ein paar weniger von uns übrig. Bald würden wir deren Vorßtöse nicht mehr standhalten können. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">Dumm war er nicht, der Feind, das muss man ihn lassen. Seine ausgeklügelte Angriffsstratagien waren die reinste stragetische Kunstwerke! Sie waren konzipiert um maximale Schaden zuzurichten gegen einen zahlenmäßig überlegenen Einheit. Gestern abend, zum Beispiel, hatten sie den Aufwärmzelt auf's Korn genommen, und die präzise Ausführung ihren ins kleinste Datei durchdachter Plan war ein Meisterstück gewesen. Sie schlichen sich wie Gespenster an den Aufwärmzelt. Drei der Männer nahmen jeweils an den zwei Seiten und zur Hinterseite des Zelts Stellung ein. Die übrigen sieben fanden im Gestrüp gegenüber der Vorderseite des Zelts versteckte Positionen. Sie streuten sich so, dass sie den Eingang des Zelts von allen Seiten decken konnten. Zu eine vorbestimmte Zeit schlitzen die drei Männer in den Positionen direkt am Zelt den Zelt auf und warfen CS-Gas Grenaten ins Zelt! Jemandem im Zelt schrie eine Warnung und der reine Chaos ist ausgebrochen. Die Männer im Zelt stürzten aus dem Zelt in regelrechter Panik! </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">Mann ahnt wie die Sache danach gelaufen ist, oder? Richtig! Die verstreute feindliche Soldaten im Gestrüp gegenüber haben unsere Jungs zusammengeschossen wie am Schießstand auf der Messe. Dann löste sich der Feind im Wald auf und war einfach nicht mehr da. Der Feind machte sich bestimmt gerade auf dem Weg in seiner Basis zurück, voller Freude, dass seine Stratagie so reibungslos funktioniert hatte und so eine verherrende Wirkung erziehlt hatte. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG29oCTA3XMcGDbvUji8eNpXfjecqxvdCqFQr7e3Pug2iuDBVRP8PATJWQ1edvBcKcaGM8rlnosDZl8ijFYoKXLq-CSODR-6PuI7R9h2Shl_xxK5sVq5QOzetASF2NaAkI0MWUtuPR88/s1600/mLqnmyG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG29oCTA3XMcGDbvUji8eNpXfjecqxvdCqFQr7e3Pug2iuDBVRP8PATJWQ1edvBcKcaGM8rlnosDZl8ijFYoKXLq-CSODR-6PuI7R9h2Shl_xxK5sVq5QOzetASF2NaAkI0MWUtuPR88/s400/mLqnmyG.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Ich versuchte mich noch fester zum Boden zu drücken. Die Kälte dringte langsam durch die vielen Schichten US Armee Kaltwetter Klammoten, welche ich anhatte. Ich hatte Angst und, das nicht schlecht. Ich befand mich ein Paar hundert Meter von unserm Lager entfernt und ich war ganz alleine. Keine Hilfe in Sicht. Ich war vollkommen auf mich alleine gestellt. Die Geräusche welche ich hörte konnten nur von eine Angriffseinheit stammen, welche auf dem Weg war ihren allabentliche Vorstöß zu veranstalten. Wenn sie mich erwischen würden, würden sie mich erschießen- oder noch schlimmer mich gefangen nehmen. Wir hatten schon genug Geschichten gehört über die Art und Weise wie der Feind mit seinen Gefangengen umging. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Deren Vordermann erschien auf ein Mal auf dem Pfad eine kürze entfernung von mir, aus Richtung Nordwest auf, gefolgt von der übrigen Mannschaft. Sie waren sehr eng aufgereit und ihren Gesichter waren mit Tarnfarbe geschmiert als sie ihren Weg äußerst behütsam durch den Tiefgefronen Wald machten. "Na, schau Mal hin", dachte ich mir, "offensichtlich ist der Feind doch nicht so schlau wie wir dachten". Denn er machte gerade einen tragischen Fehler: die Soldaten waren zu eng beieinander. Es ist jeden gescheiten Sodat bewusst, dass man Abstand hält in so einem Fall, sonst besteht die Gefähr, dass alle auf ein Mal erwischt werden könnten. Mir ist klar geworden, dass ich eine echte Chance hatte die feindliche Mannschaft aus dem Hinterhalt auszuschalten, wenn sie direkt vor meine Nase vorbei gingen in so eine hübsche Reihe, und so eng zusammen aufgestellt. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy51Tt9ibQnzlBbt_ZkkhxMBIeu7_VIffgNlefZDOImsY6ph2SmrNJkpbo3-LMHK7s5Wy5w4Sw3SZ80rf5XhYcPiXmA8UAsvZZznQcl-hCrgimHBguEqR6llAfP6RvVLRfkXnAToWfX8w/s1600/m16a2_by_pabumus.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy51Tt9ibQnzlBbt_ZkkhxMBIeu7_VIffgNlefZDOImsY6ph2SmrNJkpbo3-LMHK7s5Wy5w4Sw3SZ80rf5XhYcPiXmA8UAsvZZznQcl-hCrgimHBguEqR6llAfP6RvVLRfkXnAToWfX8w/s320/m16a2_by_pabumus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">M16A2 Rifle</td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">The rifle I had with me was an M16A2, US Army standard issue at the time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdcfEPY9-q-mXMhhHIXq9j1JO2KHgNBSxtjNXCNuM3yGJB-oTy3J180WRZfRDn4a7zKcPneb9i0-pLbdfGrgqeCWSYtXwL7tHFyKu6DN0CWEyNq1iXoyH4-JPaljzEh_Ug8h6YIrtRlE/s1600/100121-F-5212P-019.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdcfEPY9-q-mXMhhHIXq9j1JO2KHgNBSxtjNXCNuM3yGJB-oTy3J180WRZfRDn4a7zKcPneb9i0-pLbdfGrgqeCWSYtXwL7tHFyKu6DN0CWEyNq1iXoyH4-JPaljzEh_Ug8h6YIrtRlE/s200/100121-F-5212P-019.JPG" width="200" /></a><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">The rifle's safety switch is on the left side of the weapon where you see the man's left thumb in the photo. The left position is safe, the middle position is semi- auto, and the right position is full-auto. The problem is that it makes a distinct sound when you switch it over.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Die feindliche Soldaten rückten immer näher und</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">erreichten bald meine Position. Ich war innerlich völlig ruhig und wartete genau den richtigen Moment ab. Meinem Gewehr war leider gesichert und konnte erst auf vollautomatik im allerletzten Augenblick umgeschaltet werden- jeder Soldat kennt das Geräusch. Als der Moment kam stand ich auf, schaltete meinem M16 auf voll automatik und erledigte die ganze feindliche Mannschaft innerhalb ein oder zwei Sekunden!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyanM1WKbVI6KgmQ-vDLdy9leFEU01Mxlh4xdyDNV2esEVrblRZkfsA8sOLP7HdUU4CksjLdBKHiUqVOY02czdYGfXUxqW-ugfovKhRCtgQK3K6KA8ikcv8XKQQyi4UPGvBu9znQ0JPbY/s1600/main-qimg-93acc79f44dba4b7c18b8a64febbc7fe.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyanM1WKbVI6KgmQ-vDLdy9leFEU01Mxlh4xdyDNV2esEVrblRZkfsA8sOLP7HdUU4CksjLdBKHiUqVOY02czdYGfXUxqW-ugfovKhRCtgQK3K6KA8ikcv8XKQQyi4UPGvBu9znQ0JPbY/s1600/main-qimg-93acc79f44dba4b7c18b8a64febbc7fe.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Es dauerte ein paar Sekunden bis der Feind die Geschenisse überhaupt begreifen konnte. Sie blieben alle stehen, erstarrt vor Schrecken und Entsetzen. Dann drehten sie die Köpfe mir zu und schauten mich fassingslos an. "Es könnte nicht wahr sein!", dachten sie sich bestimmt...</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN0vXmdK3DVfuFNG4Q55VhYASOe_H0LHxp1RM3ij51wX9oe_QYjT6tH2XIaBxj6C6YuA0oFBeqSjRUtZuLoioEiK9IJqGViBKJZuPuz2O5hQ92LaJP9mDbPg4UQDLIZdyVS1N4aNjOXf4/s1600/soldier-rifle-his-shoulder-warrior-gun-military-ma-man-helmet-machine-belt-85431215.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN0vXmdK3DVfuFNG4Q55VhYASOe_H0LHxp1RM3ij51wX9oe_QYjT6tH2XIaBxj6C6YuA0oFBeqSjRUtZuLoioEiK9IJqGViBKJZuPuz2O5hQ92LaJP9mDbPg4UQDLIZdyVS1N4aNjOXf4/s200/soldier-rifle-his-shoulder-warrior-gun-military-ma-man-helmet-machine-belt-85431215.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">Ich trat hervor und forderte die feindliche Soldaten auf mir zu folgen, und führte sie zum Zelt des Hauptmanns. Angekommen habe ich um Erlaubnis </span><span style="color: #38761d;"><span>gebeten den Zelt zu betreten. "Herein", brullte Hauptmann Jordan und ich betrat das Zelt und salutierte. "Ich habe den Feind getötet", teilte ich ihn mit. "Das muss das Gewehrfeuer gewesen sein, dass man vorhin gehört hatte", meinte er, und ich habe dies bestätigt. "Bringe IHN ins Zelt", befahl er mir. Hauptmann Jordans Gesichtsausdruck war unbezahlbar als ich den Vorhang zurückgezogen habe und die gesamte Angriffsmanschaft eingetreten ist. Sie stellten sich in eine Reihe vorm Hauptmann auf, ihren Augen in tiefer Scham auf dem Boden gerichtet. Hauptmann Jordan war ziemlich verwirrt als er zwischen mir und den Angreifer hin und her schaute. Staunen bereitete sich über sein Gesicht als es ihm langsam eindämmerte was eben passiert gewesen sein müßte. Er stammelte die fragte: "ähm, du, ganz alleine"? "Jawohl Sir"! Voller Stolz reicht er nach dem Strichliste und tragte die Opfer unter meinem Namen ein. Dann wandte er sich die feindliche Soldaten und begann sie auseinander zu nehmen. "Ihr seid schlechte Soldaten", beschimpfte er sie. "Wäre dies einen wirklichen Krieg und nicht bloß eine Übung gewesen wäret ihr alle mausetot"! "Und das durch die Hand eines einzelnen Mannes! Schämt euch!!!"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Die Geschichte verbreitete sich wie ein Lauffeuer unter meine Mitsoldaten in der Einheit. Als ich mich später in die Schlange stellen wollte für's Essen schaute mir eine an und sagte: "Schaut mal alle hin! Da kommt unser Flint Eastwood"! Sie haben mich alle auf die Schulter geklopft und mir gesagt wie stolz sie sind mit mir zu dienen. Noch später, in der Aufwärmzelt, gesellte sich Sgt. Little zu mir und bemerkte: "Flint, wenn wir jemals tatsächlich in den Krieg ziehen müssen will ich neben dir kämpfen"!</span></span></div>
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<span face="verdana, sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">Alle haben mich "Flint Eastwood" genannt so lange ich der Einheit zugewiesen war...</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-75934113271525669432017-06-05T11:13:00.000+02:002017-06-05T12:30:36.609+02:00Epilepsy Update 5 June 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSNWm5JEPQh3_QxGuJrOEVPie0-KCFIIOd-iYvcX9zRDQVEg8olyj5TGyy_UR3_RKbNfMDDVFQDm5Q1FKY9gRNMzkhmlrEW2hQOx6S6AlVf0FgYJ_UzbiqVKu9tvHA5EINCd_RiNmiw8/s1600/image-39033-galleryV9-wtva-39033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="850" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzSNWm5JEPQh3_QxGuJrOEVPie0-KCFIIOd-iYvcX9zRDQVEg8olyj5TGyy_UR3_RKbNfMDDVFQDm5Q1FKY9gRNMzkhmlrEW2hQOx6S6AlVf0FgYJ_UzbiqVKu9tvHA5EINCd_RiNmiw8/s400/image-39033-galleryV9-wtva-39033.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wow, I haven't written an update for a month now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">All of the hopes I expressed in my last two posts, hope that my condition was going to remain better thanks to the Vimpat, have come to pass. It's even gotten better as the medication unfolds it's full potential over time. At the time of my last update I was still having 6-7 seizures per week and maybe one migraine a week, all of which were much weaker than had been the case for a couple of years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Es ist bereits einen ganzen Monat seit ich meinen letzten Beitrag gepostet habe.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Die Hoffnung, welche ich im letzten Beitrag zum Ausdruck gebracht habe, die Hoffnung, dass meinem Zustand, welche sich durch den Vimpat verbessert hatte, auch verbessert bleiben würde, hat sich im Laufe der letzten zwei Monate bestätigt. Es geht mir tatsächlich besser. Die Fortschritte haben sich sogar ausgebaut als das Vimpat seine Wirkung im Laufe der Zeit auch ausbaut. Zur Zeit der letzten Beitrag habe ich "nur noch" 6-7 Anfälle und eine Migraine pro Woche gelitten. Beide waren jedoch viel schwächer als den letzten Paar Jahre der Fall war. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm actually down to 1-2 weak seizures per week, and they have only been lasting from 10-30 seconds. Last week was completely seizure free as a matter of fact! And migraines? Maybe once a week, but rather weak and they've only been lasting a couple of hours instead of several days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Die Anfälle, welche ich noch habe haben sich auf 1-2 pro Woche reduziert und die Migraine auf vielleicht eine pro Woche. Anfälle dauern lediglich nur 10-30 Sekunden und die Migraine 2-3 Stunden anstatt mehrere Tage. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My mood has been much, much better of course. "Normal" people would likely think that a couple of seizures and one migraine per week is terrible, but I have to refer to a saying I read some time ago that claimed that a good day for an Epileptic would be a miserable day for anyone without Epilepsy. The whole thing is relative. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Meine Laune hat sich ungemein verbessert. Ich schätze, dass "normale" Menschen denken würden, dass 1-2 Anfälle und eine Migraine pro Woche absolute schlimm wären, jedoch nehme ich Bezug auf einen Spruch welche ich vor einige Zeit gelesen habe, der sinngemäß sagte, dass einen guten Tag für einen Epilepsiebetroffene einen schlimmen Tag für einen ohne Eplepsie darstellt. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have more energy and strength. A lot more! My workout program had greatly suffered for a long time. There were so many days on which it simply not possible to workout, and I was very weak and suffered through each workout. It was like I had to workout but didn't want to because it was torture. I was running on pure discipline. On top of that the Topirimat had killed my appetite and I was barely able to eat, and had lost a lot of weight. Now, with the Topirimat gone, I've been eating a lot more and </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigrVL3hyphenhyphen44Tc1iNTxP7J3oq2XLzqrNysoUSOE5ZaRmvvCoD-OPbbQx0K44t0ccrIqfpdeBuLWNYSXTESobSCC13e28opMy2AiooWQGqIAdYxgeWry7nUevXBF7S2daNKtSxC3eKM1JaUQ/s1600/8712283_f496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="496" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigrVL3hyphenhyphen44Tc1iNTxP7J3oq2XLzqrNysoUSOE5ZaRmvvCoD-OPbbQx0K44t0ccrIqfpdeBuLWNYSXTESobSCC13e28opMy2AiooWQGqIAdYxgeWry7nUevXBF7S2daNKtSxC3eKM1JaUQ/s200/8712283_f496.jpg" width="130" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">my workout program is really booming. I've built up some and increased the weight I work with, and I enjoy doing sports again. I haven't weighed myself but I feel like I weigh more than I have for several years. I should mention that I have an ectomorph body type, which means that keeping weight on is a problem for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich habe viel mehr Energie und Kraft. Meine Trainingseinheiten im Heim Fittnessstudio hatten seit lange Zeit sehr gelitten. Es gab so viele Tage an dem es einfach nicht möglich war zu trainieren und es war eher eine Qual an den Tagen wo es doch ging. Es war jedes Mal eine Pflichtveranstaltung und nur Selbstdiszipline hat mich davon abgehalten komplett damit aufzuhören. Es kam hinzu, dass das Topirimat mein Appetit völlig zestört hatte. Ich habe kaum was runterbekommen und hatte viel Gewicht verloren. Ein Teufelskreis. Nun, ohne das Topirimat, kehrt meinem Appetit zurück und mein Trainingsregime läuft wieder auf Hochturen. Ich habe wieder ein </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZLYpPnaHX1cctKVZANm8sG1cm2h3_HfJcbGQ8hNaHyISI57shTUXVVECus7sWglraKoRwuhyphenhyphenkuQxQ-evTV1LKb3zNtIBR4rqCcWo7rPEkc6jXBIF28fL4bPtPDtZjR4LLKAPrQq2Tyk/s1600/8712283_f496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="496" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZLYpPnaHX1cctKVZANm8sG1cm2h3_HfJcbGQ8hNaHyISI57shTUXVVECus7sWglraKoRwuhyphenhyphenkuQxQ-evTV1LKb3zNtIBR4rqCcWo7rPEkc6jXBIF28fL4bPtPDtZjR4LLKAPrQq2Tyk/s200/8712283_f496.jpg" width="130" /></a></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>wenig aufgebaut und das Gewicht mit dem ich arbeite aufgestockt. Es macht wieder Spaß Sport zu machen. Gewogen habe ich mich noch nicht, habe aber das Gefühl, dass ich etwas zugenommen habe. Ich sollte dazu erwähnen, dass ich einen Echtomorph Körpertyp bin. Das bedeutet, dass es schwer für mich ist Gewicht zu behalten. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The improvements seem to be relatively stable, but I have discovered that my capacity for handling stress is still limited. My condition does still begin to worsen when there are too many people and/or a lot of action around me. It's especially bad when I can't pull back and rest in between, when it goes on and on and I can't get out of it. I guess my capacity will never be what it once was. That means I still have to watch out and keep myself safe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Die Fortschritte scheinen relativ stabil zu sein, jedoch habe ich erfahren, dass meine Kapizät noch begrenzt is bezüglich die Bewältigung von Stress. Mein Zustand beginnt schon drunter zu leiden wenn ich von vielen Menschen und/oder viel Aktion umgeben bin. Besonders schlimm ist es wenn ich keine Rückzugsmöglichkeit habe um mich zwischendurch zu erholen, wenn es immer weiter geht und nicht aufhört. Ich schätze, dass meine Kapzität nie mehr das sein wird was es mal war. Ich muss also immer noch aufpassen und mir nicht zu viel zumuten. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Something I'd never expected would ever come again is my ability- and the desire- to converse with others. Having conversations has been extremely strenuous for as long as I can remember, and I wanted to lock myself in after work each day and not talk to anyone. That is also changing. There are enough opportunities in my life to engage in interesting conversations with people, but the only thing that's still missing is someone to talk to about my </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq8FnhO5CJT_KqfC9pL92iRr4p-YssKFxPNeEpFYG4fEtI6cYu5tfIi3YG_7bnHY1dNTqxemNk_iBVoyWQbqRfmB8J-5mun9fsJhbEVjnCrWl7MHFgcNcmCi1takjUVeMtlJXfckOArw/s1600/Summer-Musicale-2-700x2751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="700" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq8FnhO5CJT_KqfC9pL92iRr4p-YssKFxPNeEpFYG4fEtI6cYu5tfIi3YG_7bnHY1dNTqxemNk_iBVoyWQbqRfmB8J-5mun9fsJhbEVjnCrWl7MHFgcNcmCi1takjUVeMtlJXfckOArw/s320/Summer-Musicale-2-700x2751.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">emotional difficulties. That's something you can't simply order on the Net, however. It has to be the right kind of person, and they have to care enough to want to listen, to want to help you feel better. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Was ich nie erwartet hätte war, dass ich wieder fähig sein werde mich mit anderen Menschen zu unterhalten. Reden ist seit lange so anstrengend für mich gewesen, dass ich mich nach der Arbeit irgendwo einschließen wollte und mit niemandem reden wollte. Das ändert sich gerade auch. Nun, es gibt genug Menschen in meiner Umgebung mit dem man interesannte Unterhaltungen führen kann. Was mir jedoch noch fehlt wäre eine Person, mit dem ich über </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI9S49JRLkm4dEzz3OlRu7bAaLfF-h83fSNwO3QsYjXnWcXyYB4WIaDsKNH3X7zCmFVjpBfp61hDXYHTq6_Zz1GT4xWcZqP464NWP6pwBfgEgiSTuzLOPmYfmQ3DaGLrHrb3VdeZpsdE/s1600/Summer-Musicale-2-700x2751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="700" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI9S49JRLkm4dEzz3OlRu7bAaLfF-h83fSNwO3QsYjXnWcXyYB4WIaDsKNH3X7zCmFVjpBfp61hDXYHTq6_Zz1GT4xWcZqP464NWP6pwBfgEgiSTuzLOPmYfmQ3DaGLrHrb3VdeZpsdE/s320/Summer-Musicale-2-700x2751.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>meinen emotionalen Schwierigkeiten reden kann. Eine solche Person kann man jedoch nicht bei Ebay bestellen. Es muss erstens den richtigen Persönlichkeitstyp dafür sein und ich müsste derjenige auch wichtig genug sein, dass er überhaupt zuhören möchte. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The one difficulty that has remained is what I call the epi-daze. You know how that is my fellow epileptics. It's a confusion that you always feel to one degree or another. It's being in the kitchen, for example, and suddenly not remembering what you're doing, or forgetting what you wanted to say while you're saying it, as well as a thousand other things. My speech is still messed up as well. It seems like I can't simply speak a whole sentence at one time, but stop in the middle for a couple of seconds before I can continue. I also speak pretty slowly. That drives my Conny crazy sometimes, her being a person who </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWlCpHpoM03bM31o2cJ2Dw22YAnqLknkZi23wxj_3YRQicvd4Z6SS4wuIUBtVjoCU5tr2lUKcslGZ4MnH_VV_F7I08In8IynlWx6v9Dw9kMhGpU7N34Y-rqQeYN3aBR16bxNhKEylsvnc/s1600/logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="1000" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWlCpHpoM03bM31o2cJ2Dw22YAnqLknkZi23wxj_3YRQicvd4Z6SS4wuIUBtVjoCU5tr2lUKcslGZ4MnH_VV_F7I08In8IynlWx6v9Dw9kMhGpU7N34Y-rqQeYN3aBR16bxNhKEylsvnc/s200/logo.gif" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">talks a lot and talks very fast, sometimes not even coming up for air. She gets a whole paragraph out for every sentence I speak. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Eine Schwierigkeit bleibt aber: den sogenannten Epi-Daze. Diese Verwirrung im Kopf, das verursacht, dass man vergisst was man macht mitten im machen oder vergisst was man sagen wollte während man redet, unter anderem. Meine Sprache ist sowieso beeinträchtigt von dem Ganzen. Ich kann kaum einen ganzen Satz ohne kurze Unterbrechungen, einfach </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrVVmpp3uL968338Ho-DuUBG9USyDZHwqaeWKZ1sCeg0vOw3OK15d9kH0scnMfnWCYmevxPlyxzffVdWZZTucapHRn0_-pgMfriByxbUro_8d5q34ob2gWEJc8DxVarjTP_junypvqgk/s1600/logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="1000" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwrVVmpp3uL968338Ho-DuUBG9USyDZHwqaeWKZ1sCeg0vOw3OK15d9kH0scnMfnWCYmevxPlyxzffVdWZZTucapHRn0_-pgMfriByxbUro_8d5q34ob2gWEJc8DxVarjTP_junypvqgk/s200/logo.gif" width="200" /></a></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>flussig, aussprechen. Dazu rede ich recht langsam. Das treibt meine Conny in den Wahnsinn manchmal. Sie redet sehr gerne und sehr schnell, manchmal ohne nach Luft zu schnappen. Sie spricht einen ganzen Paragraph in der Zeit wo ich kaum einen einzigen Satz sagen kann.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I started this post with a photo of a tic and there's a reason for that: I got bit by one last year and contracted Borreliosis, and had to take antibiotics for three weeks. That was pure torture since </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGckkk-afnXpmIz8WFfm6GQUA3bJMo5rNaP7Wggotlb4wJjcEKFR1LSlxHHzasXYxEUrL2aCHmnD-7YqobowS9leBvuIeM0rvAawYrhoTGWhYcJeONo3zXDKrbINCIG6kxU2dGwu0a4cs/s1600/Borreliose-34804342801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="249" data-original-width="462" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGckkk-afnXpmIz8WFfm6GQUA3bJMo5rNaP7Wggotlb4wJjcEKFR1LSlxHHzasXYxEUrL2aCHmnD-7YqobowS9leBvuIeM0rvAawYrhoTGWhYcJeONo3zXDKrbINCIG6kxU2dGwu0a4cs/s200/Borreliose-34804342801.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">antibiotics just don't mix well with Epilepsy medications. My neurologist told me that there's nothing you can do about it. You just have to suffer through it. I'd been told at the time to have blood taken in April of this year to make sure that it was all out of my system. I did that and it was discovered that it was still there. I had to begin taking antibiotics again last Thursday, and it's pretty bad. My motor skills are affected and my speech is even worse than usual. I'm having dizzy spells, and it seems like my head isn't firmly attached, stomach problems as well. The worst thing is that it's messing with my emotions. Oh well, it can't be changed and I'll just have to put up with it till it's over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Am Anfang dieser Beitrag have ich einen Bild von eine Zecke eingefügt, und das nicht ohne Grund. Ich </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi197JuoasQvcsqku1va8AOSaiurHn8hN2iy140ShjdgQpUl2SwdQioWc9wdURqf9hNXo-XcxI4AqnRZop_N-6WB2sOpRRp3G5uLIy-J8r8QBWNP6RpL3Af3un_w3FHebjrxswx0-iWrjM/s1600/Borreliose-34804342801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="249" data-original-width="462" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi197JuoasQvcsqku1va8AOSaiurHn8hN2iy140ShjdgQpUl2SwdQioWc9wdURqf9hNXo-XcxI4AqnRZop_N-6WB2sOpRRp3G5uLIy-J8r8QBWNP6RpL3Af3un_w3FHebjrxswx0-iWrjM/s200/Borreliose-34804342801.jpg" width="200" /></a></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>wurde voriges Jahr von eine gebissen und habe Borreliose bekommen. Ich mußte drei Wochen lang Antibiotiker schlucken und es war eine Qual. Mein Neurologe sagt, dass Antibiotiker sich mit Epilepsie Medikamente einfach nicht vertragen. Augen zu und durch, meint er. Ich ließ Blut abnehmen vor ein Paar Wochen und man stellte fest, dass die Borreliose wieder da ist. Ich schlucke seit vorigen Donnerstag wieder Antibotiker und es ist kein Bißchen besser als das letzte Mal. Motorikschwierigkeiten, noch schwerere Sprachstörungen, Schwindel, Magenprobleme, das Gefühl, dass meinem Kopf nicht ganz fest sitzt. Das schlimmste ist, dass meine Emotionen durcheinander sind. Na ja, man kann da nichts machen. Augen zu und durch. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would love to hear any comments anyone might like to make. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich würde sehr gerne die Gedanken andere lesen wenn jemand kommentieren möchte. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Addition: I can't believe it! After I finished writing this post I got into the shower and found another stupid tic on me! (don't ask where...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ergänzung: nachdem dieser Beitrag fertig war bin ich unter der Dusche gesprungen und habe schon wieder eine Zecke gefunden! (frage lieber nicht genau wo...)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-67076866208125949722017-05-06T11:05:00.001+02:002017-05-06T21:07:58.958+02:00Epilepsy Update 06 May 2017<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfUMXSrIJFFWIxeyROkQasG6lgY3pocOxDMWMirSqpK3n8Icyn59axSQ75hE7k22onNGB0VJRKMn15V6igARCJfBvtuXDyr7-N5SIUY_ff0K2a5KInNkDezGxMbiWIH6Vzn4g72f7BcA/s1600/700-02199978en_Masterfile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxfUMXSrIJFFWIxeyROkQasG6lgY3pocOxDMWMirSqpK3n8Icyn59axSQ75hE7k22onNGB0VJRKMn15V6igARCJfBvtuXDyr7-N5SIUY_ff0K2a5KInNkDezGxMbiWIH6Vzn4g72f7BcA/s400/700-02199978en_Masterfile.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>It's hard to believe that I'll be a married man in just six weeks!</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The photo is only a joke, of course. I'm getting married of my own free will. Besides, I'm the one that asked her...</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can look forward to being a husband now but that wasn't possible just a few short weeks ago, back when I was still taking Topirimat. I couldn't look forward to anything back then, because it took every bit of my energy just to survive each and every day, day after day, week after week, etc. <span style="background-color: black;">a</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">d nauseam. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>That really seems to be changing now thanks to the </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzoYMkmnx8fKw3Zp-buPEBN_h7Vav4_7DVzH9JCPka6SG-e46gJFjqXyV3VqbTgbff2kjN75BbkOc5QpB2RcHiXF6XZ5PeVavyOQIUFCQlf427r0zN771jM6Qx29t9nBveE__pkz3Zzk/s1600/vimpat-06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzoYMkmnx8fKw3Zp-buPEBN_h7Vav4_7DVzH9JCPka6SG-e46gJFjqXyV3VqbTgbff2kjN75BbkOc5QpB2RcHiXF6XZ5PeVavyOQIUFCQlf427r0zN771jM6Qx29t9nBveE__pkz3Zzk/s200/vimpat-06.jpg" width="200" /></b></span></a></span></div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Lamotrigine/Vimpat combination. You may recall that they did an EEG and took blood on the 19th of April to check my progress in the transition from Topirimat to Vimpat. Well, I went back to the neurologist's last Tuesday to discuss the results with him. In the end he raised the Vimpat 100 mg per day. That seems like a pretty big jump to me, but I'm not a doctor and kept my mouth shut. I would have expected him to raise it 50 mg at a time. </b></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6SvPHdmTh9349wKdIXRnbnCxcvViEJDY9MxJBI4xMqBrfIhh6DqTeX3DB8ePkO5A7rYhh7Q2UwMcui69q-g19D3v-bMimXEqt_6wCRhMQVrEUCGuPxYbTEM79U55pzXC1fgKf3kVBf0/s1600/700-02199978en_Masterfile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6SvPHdmTh9349wKdIXRnbnCxcvViEJDY9MxJBI4xMqBrfIhh6DqTeX3DB8ePkO5A7rYhh7Q2UwMcui69q-g19D3v-bMimXEqt_6wCRhMQVrEUCGuPxYbTEM79U55pzXC1fgKf3kVBf0/s400/700-02199978en_Masterfile.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Kaum zu glauben..</i></span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">In sechs Wochen werde ich ein verheirateter Mann sein!</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Das Foto ist natürlich nicht ernst gemeint. Ich heirate aus freien Stücken. Zudem bin ich derjenige welche sie gefragt hatte. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Jezt kann ich mich darüber freuen aber vor einigen Wochen konnte ich mich auf gar nichts freuen. Seit Monaten ging's mir jeden Tag ausschließlich um's nackte Überleben.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><b>Bisher schaut's gar nicht so schlecht aus mit dem Kombination Lamotrigine/Vimpat. In einem anderen Beitrag erwähnte ich, dass ich am 19,05 beim Neurologen war um einen EEG machen zu lassen und Blut abnehmen zu lassen um </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCoP-5TL8GUpem0jxVezkeNVsWJfrx8MDIILUxhaUQNff5KwLFwRUw06L0C6P1Uxk71Os3Zwjmg2XR69AxNA1mTnlq3cbcflaOJWhzS72CaYDvSb4JSRtZUYc2NIfdeSfGJ1aPa1bi9ZE/s1600/vimpat-06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCoP-5TL8GUpem0jxVezkeNVsWJfrx8MDIILUxhaUQNff5KwLFwRUw06L0C6P1Uxk71Os3Zwjmg2XR69AxNA1mTnlq3cbcflaOJWhzS72CaYDvSb4JSRtZUYc2NIfdeSfGJ1aPa1bi9ZE/s320/vimpat-06.jpg" width="320" /></b></a></i></span></div>
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;"><b>den Fortschritt der Umstellung vom Topirimat zu Vimpat zu prüfen. Vorigen Dienstag war dann die Besprechung der Ergebnisse und Dr. Vollhardt hat das Vimpat um täglich100mg erhört. Es überraschte mich, dass er gleich 100mg erhört hat anstatt in Schritte zu je 50mg. Na ja, wer bin ich? Ich habe die Klappe gehalten und am gleichen Tag angefangen die neue Dosis reinzuwerfen. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I've felt much, much better since the switch, and I'm hoping that it'll get even better in time as the medication develops to it's full potential. Life has already begun to be livable again. My head is much clearer, concentration and memory a lot better. I have a lot more power than I've had for months and months, and especially enjoy my daily workouts in my home gym. I've begun increasing the weight I work with and my body is building back up again. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Es geht mir viel besser seit der Wechsel und ich hoffe, dass es noch besser wird wie das neue Medikament seine volle Wirkung mit der Zeit entfaltet. Das Leben fängt an wieder lebenswert zu sein. Mein Kopf ist viel klarer, mein Gedächtnis und Konzentration um einiges besser. Ich habe viel mehr Kraft als seit vielen Monaten. Besonders schön sind die Workouts in meinem Heimfitnessstudio. Ich stocke langsam das Gewicht mit dem ich traniere auf. Mein Körper baut sich langsam wieder auf. </i></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>As for Epileptic activity the past week it was absolutely bearable in comparison to the past year. I had a migraine on Wednesday, but it was rather weak and only lasted around three hours. I had six or seven rather unpleasant complex partial seizures but they only lasted between ten seconds and one minute each. That's a huge improvement to the days long migraines and the daily two to three seizures I've been having, the seizures lasting up to ten minutes each. </b></span><br />
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<i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Was epileptische Aktivität betrifft hatte ich Mittwoch eine schwache Migraine, die jedoch nur ca. drei Stunden andauerte. Dazu</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> sechs oder sieben unangenehme Komplex Fokale Anfälle, welche jedoch nur zehn Sekunden bis eine Minute von Dauer waren. Das ist ein sehr große Fortschritt gegenüber die zermübende, tagelang andauernde Migrainen sowie die dreimal tägliche Anfälle, welche je bis zu zehn Minuten andauerten. </span></i></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The fear is still there, of course. The fear that I could still have a really heavy seizure, especially during the adjustment period. Good neighbors of ours are getting married today in a small village some distance away. Conny and I were invited- and looking forward to being there. It turned out, however, that Conny couldn't go because of work and I would have had to go alone, taking a combination of trains and buses. I just couldn't get up the courage to do that because I can't know for sure that I won't have a big one- and especially knowing that they almost always come in clusters. I envisioned myself having a heavy seizure in some train station or at a forlorn bus stop out in the boonies somewhere, suddenly not knowing where I was or what I was doing for several minutes, likely missing the next connection and having to wait for another one. At the same time I would know that more were likely on the way. Also knowing that I was a couple hours away from home and would</span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> have to find the right trains and buses to get back home. I've found myself in similar situations a couple of times when travelling to and from Würzburg to visit my kids- and I didn't even have to switch trains. It's absolute torture. Now, I do ride my bike all over Aschaffenburg every work day, but that's close to home and I always have my rescue tablet and 20,-€ for a taxi tucked away in my wallet, just in case. None of that would help me two hours away from home at some lost bus stop, alone. Everyone knows that the rescue tablet knocks you out. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>You know how it is: it takes a while. If I end up being stable then the fear will eventually subside...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Natürlich ist die Angst ist noch da. Die Angst ich könnte noch einen starken Anfall bekommen, vor allem während die Zeit der Umstellung. Gute Nachbarn von uns heiraten heute in einen kleinen Ort in einige Entfernung von Aschaffenburg. Conny und ich waren eingeladen und hatten uns darauf gefreut hinzufahren. Es stellte sich aber heraus, dass Conny nicht hinkonnte wegen Arbeit und ich würde alleine mit dem Zug bzw. Bus hinfahren müssen. Ich habe den Mut einfach nicht aufbringen können, da ich noch nicht wissen kann ob es mich noch hinhauen könnte. Ich sehe mich in irgendeinen Bahnhof oder verlassene Bushaltestelle irgendwo in die Pampa, ganz alleine wenn einen schweren Anfall kommt. Plötzlich keine ahnung wo ich bin oder was ich tun soll- wollwissend, dass noch mehr Anfälle kommen werden da ich sie meist in Reihen bekomme. Gleichzeitig wäre ich ein paar Stunden von zu Hause weg und noch die richtige Busse bzw. Zug würde erwischen müssen um Heim zu kommen. Ich bin ein paar Mal in ähnliche Situationen gewesen als ich alleine mit dem Zug nach Würzburg gefahren bin um meine Kinder zu besuchen. Grausam ist das. Nun, ich fahren schon jeden Arbeitstag überall in Aschaffenburg herum aber das ist was anderes. Ich bin nicht weit von zu Hause weg und habe Nottablette und 20,-€ für einen Taxi stets dabei. Das funktioniert aber nicht wenn man 2 Stunden von zu Hause entfernt ist, ganz alleine. Jeder weiß, dass die Nottablette einem umhaut. </i></span></b><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">Epilepsiebetroffene wissen wie das ist: es dauert eine Weile. Wenn ich richtig stabil werde, dann wird die Angst sich langsam auflösen. </i></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-6704901731506013022017-05-01T11:53:00.006+02:002021-06-05T13:47:34.490+02:00They Called Me "Flint Eastwood"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">I think we can all agree that war is not good, and that we all desperately long for a world without armies and tanks,attack helicopters,missiles and bombs. That is, however, simply not realistic at this point in history, nor has it been possible at any time in all of human history to date. That day will surely come, but it's just plain not here yet, and we have to face that fact or be conquered. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCd2LTNVI64auNYef9VuFXHQsWIb-WfsqoVJxc8IJR00Enw4wYxuUab4Yf6zw8vs7IcmyNFskQFuhn9FZ9KqsfU-B7286pSPmD9M-HlTcQdz6jpgq6h4uYpqUkAMj_6vR5vtqUZXfZUwE/s1600/william-ralph-inge-1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCd2LTNVI64auNYef9VuFXHQsWIb-WfsqoVJxc8IJR00Enw4wYxuUab4Yf6zw8vs7IcmyNFskQFuhn9FZ9KqsfU-B7286pSPmD9M-HlTcQdz6jpgq6h4uYpqUkAMj_6vR5vtqUZXfZUwE/s200/william-ralph-inge-1.jpg" width="200" /></a><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">A man named William Ralph Inge, who was among </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;">other things an English author and animal rights advocate, said something very wise in his book "Outspoken Essays" way back in the year 1919.</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><b>"It is useless for the sheep to pass resolutions in favor of vegetarianism while the wolf remains of a different opinion."</b></span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">The fact is that we have no other choice but to maintain an army and soldiers and weapons until the day arrives in which the wolves change their attitude and no longer pose a threat to us.</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">I was crouched down in a</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">thick forest, trying to make myself invisible. I could hear feet trying to move as soundlessly as possible on the crisply frozen snow that covered the trail, which lay approximately ten meters to the west. The forest was enveloped in silence. The kind of utter stillness that is companion to a world in deep-freeze at 21 degrees below zero. Dusk was falling, and I needed to get back to my men as soon as possible. The enemy had attacked every evening around dusk for the past five days and I needed to be with my men when they came again tonight. </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">We'd managed to repel them up to that point, but we'd lost men doing it and our numbers were slowly dwindling. Sooner or later there wouldn't be enough of us left to ward them off anymore. The thing was, the enemy wasn't attacking in force as you'd expect him to when mounting an offensive against an entire company of forty men, as we were; or rather had been only a few short days ago. Instead, they were coming in small squads of maybe ten men, nipping at our heels, thinning our ranks slowly but surely, whittling us down until there were too few of us left to withstand them. </span><br />
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">They were smart, they were. Their incursions were strategic artworks designed to maximize their fire power against a larger force. They had attacked the warm-up tent yesterday evening, for example, and the execution of their well-planned offensive was gruesomely precise. They had crept up behind the warm-up tent like ghosts, one man each taking up positions at the back and on each side of the tent. The other seven soldiers had hidden themselves at positions in the woods across from the entrance to the tent. Positions which would allow them to cover the entrance of the tent from all angles. At a predetermined moment all three of the soldiers behind and beside the tent slit it with their combat knives and threw CS-gas grenades inside! Shouts of alarm were raised from within and chaos ensued! Those inside came tumbling</span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"> out the front in blind panic! And yep, you guessed it: those hidden opposite the tent opened fire. Our boys never had a chance. Then the attackers faded away into the forest and simply were not there anymore. They would be making their way back to their base by now, satisfied that their meticulously planned and efficiently executed incursion had been a devastating success. Several more of us were gone...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG29oCTA3XMcGDbvUji8eNpXfjecqxvdCqFQr7e3Pug2iuDBVRP8PATJWQ1edvBcKcaGM8rlnosDZl8ijFYoKXLq-CSODR-6PuI7R9h2Shl_xxK5sVq5QOzetASF2NaAkI0MWUtuPR88/s1600/mLqnmyG.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCG29oCTA3XMcGDbvUji8eNpXfjecqxvdCqFQr7e3Pug2iuDBVRP8PATJWQ1edvBcKcaGM8rlnosDZl8ijFYoKXLq-CSODR-6PuI7R9h2Shl_xxK5sVq5QOzetASF2NaAkI0MWUtuPR88/s400/mLqnmyG.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">I tried to huddle even closer to the ground, the bitter cold slowly seeping its way through the many layers of US Army issue cold weather gear I was wearing. I was scared...really scared. I was a couple of hundred meters from our camp, and I was alone. No help would come. The sounds I was hearing could only be a squad of enemy soldiers advancing for another dusk incursion. If they saw me I was a dead man, or even worse than that, a prisoner. We'd all heard stories about how they treated their prisoners... </span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">The point man suddenly appeared on the trail some distance away, coming at me from the northwest. The rest of the squad soon followed. They were half crouching as they gingerly moved forward in a tight row, their faces covered with white camouflage grease. They were going to walk right by me about ten meters away, and they were bunched up tight. </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"> "Maybe the enemy isn't quite as smart as we thought he was", I said to myself. They were making a big mistake by walking in such a tight line. They were much too close together and every soldier knows that you have to spread out on the trail, otherwise the whole squad could be taken out all at once. How often had the drill sergeants told us that in basic training? It began to dawn on me that I might actually be able to take them down when they walked by me on that trail, all lined up so </span><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">nice and pretty as they were. They were like ducks in a shooting gallery.</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b>I prepared myself to go into Rambo mode...</b></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy51Tt9ibQnzlBbt_ZkkhxMBIeu7_VIffgNlefZDOImsY6ph2SmrNJkpbo3-LMHK7s5Wy5w4Sw3SZ80rf5XhYcPiXmA8UAsvZZznQcl-hCrgimHBguEqR6llAfP6RvVLRfkXnAToWfX8w/s1600/m16a2_by_pabumus.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy51Tt9ibQnzlBbt_ZkkhxMBIeu7_VIffgNlefZDOImsY6ph2SmrNJkpbo3-LMHK7s5Wy5w4Sw3SZ80rf5XhYcPiXmA8UAsvZZznQcl-hCrgimHBguEqR6llAfP6RvVLRfkXnAToWfX8w/s320/m16a2_by_pabumus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M16A2 Rifle</td></tr>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">The rifle I had with me was an M16A2, US Army standard issue at the time.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdcfEPY9-q-mXMhhHIXq9j1JO2KHgNBSxtjNXCNuM3yGJB-oTy3J180WRZfRDn4a7zKcPneb9i0-pLbdfGrgqeCWSYtXwL7tHFyKu6DN0CWEyNq1iXoyH4-JPaljzEh_Ug8h6YIrtRlE/s1600/100121-F-5212P-019.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWdcfEPY9-q-mXMhhHIXq9j1JO2KHgNBSxtjNXCNuM3yGJB-oTy3J180WRZfRDn4a7zKcPneb9i0-pLbdfGrgqeCWSYtXwL7tHFyKu6DN0CWEyNq1iXoyH4-JPaljzEh_Ug8h6YIrtRlE/s200/100121-F-5212P-019.JPG" width="200" /></a><span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d;">The rifle's safety switch is on the left side of the weapon where you see the man's left thumb in the photo. The left position is safe, the middle position is semi- auto, and the right position is full-auto. </span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">Those enemy soldiers were getting closer and closer, </span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_e5QwMHlm1mr7_OjVKnhD2c4xO8PcZDd9BzWWJ1dIEZH_K3zGo7WxYgcgZPaAeoLXZ77zxTO7X7u9eRejTVWqznGNyoRyrPKEg1jVi-h0V87uqb321NSSi2GH2SxsqVeXdMTx1p6GB8/s1600/BTarqqrgc.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_e5QwMHlm1mr7_OjVKnhD2c4xO8PcZDd9BzWWJ1dIEZH_K3zGo7WxYgcgZPaAeoLXZ77zxTO7X7u9eRejTVWqznGNyoRyrPKEg1jVi-h0V87uqb321NSSi2GH2SxsqVeXdMTx1p6GB8/s200/BTarqqrgc.jpg" width="157" /></a></span></div>
<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">and finally reached my position. I was perfectly calm inside but ready to jump into action at just the right moment. Unfortunately, my rifle was set on safety. If I switched over to full-auto now they would hear it, so I had to wait until the very last moment to switch over. When the right moment arrived I calmly stood up, switching over to full-auto as I did, and wasted the whole squad in a matter of seconds!</span><br />
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">It took those boys a few seconds to process what had happened to them. They stopped in their tracks, frozen in time, half crouched, with their weapons out in front of them. Their faces went from surprise to pure shock as they turned their heads towards me and realized what had just happened. They just couldn't believe it...</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">I stepped out with my weapon over my shoulder and said, "If you would please follow me gentlemen", turned on my heel and led the way to the captain's tent. Once there I called out, asking for permission to enter the tent, and got the</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">captain's ok. I stepped in and went to attention. "I've eliminated the enemy's attack squad for this evening sir", I announced as the captain reached for the tally book in which each soldier's kills were recorded. Captain Jordan asked, "Is that what all that shooting was about a few minutes ago?" "Yes sir, that was me." "Well, bring 'him' in so I can take a look at 'him'", ordered the Captain. He obviously hadn't understood me when I'd said "The attack squad" The look on the captain's face was priceless when I pulled the flap of the tent back and the whole attack squad filed in! They lined up before him red faced, heads bowed in shame. Captain Jordan was confused at first. He looked first at me, then the enemy soldiers, then at me again, his face mirroring the confusion he felt. "You killed them all?" "Yes sir!" I replied. "All by yourself???" "Yes sir!" I answered once again. I gave an account of how the whole thing had gone down while he tallied my kills in the book, his face beaming with pride at how deadly his soldiers were. Of course I didn't mention that I'd been out in the woods relieving myself when they just happened along. It wouldn't hurt my career if the man thought I was a strategic genius. As soon as he had finished tallying he turned his attention to those enemy soldiers. He chewed those boys up and spit them out, telling them what bad soldiers they were and how they'd all be dead if this were a real war instead of a training exercise. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," he told them, "all ten of you wiped out by a single man!" </span><br />
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">The story of what I'd done spread like wildfire through the company, and soon all of my fellow soldiers knew about the incident. Later, in the chow line, one of them looked at me as I approached and said, "Look! Here comes Flint Eastwood!" They all patted me on the back and told me how proud they were to serve with me. Later, in the warm-up tent Sgt. Little walked up and stood next to me and said, "Flint, if we ever have to go to war for real I want you next to me!"</span></div>
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<span face=""verdana" , sans-serif" style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;">That nickname, "Flint Eastwood", stuck with me for the rest of my time in that unit...</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-26326712138736381452017-04-27T19:36:00.000+02:002017-05-06T08:00:03.731+02:00A Guest Vlog Post by Karen<div style="text-align: right;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3dkA-OTQd8YvnAaZywxyfI_n6bMq8oXUfWUfx5seHirDrzHY8TUhja9OzyOFj_-5vubBw8QJh3wGpgfN9T545nCHFrBQwQdFC_LIOShzmotku-EfZIbS_XFWaI3UQAUsmOTgbZ2wpts/s1600/9684b6d1-0d60-43bd-8843-e4ae2618e1af.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3dkA-OTQd8YvnAaZywxyfI_n6bMq8oXUfWUfx5seHirDrzHY8TUhja9OzyOFj_-5vubBw8QJh3wGpgfN9T545nCHFrBQwQdFC_LIOShzmotku-EfZIbS_XFWaI3UQAUsmOTgbZ2wpts/s200/9684b6d1-0d60-43bd-8843-e4ae2618e1af.webp" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pybmaFrG-37sNzPUlX-uc3ijwnt6BHiZuq8JKxLlSC5uFop9dHYJyoD8kxZtTjJojvxq-HJZHqrk48OE8M3Km0aajkaZg-BdN-tA-1nBNpQW_IqmpdoU-jDMW5MskrVsILwAvarLU3M/s1600/Guest+Karen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This young lady calls herself Xoxo Karen and she has a YouTube vlog. </span></a></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She has also had Epilepsy for the last 7 years.</span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She uses her vlog for a lot of other things but has recently posted a couple of videos about her experiences with her Epilepsy. </span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Diese junge Dame nennt sich Xoxo Karen und hat einen Vlog auf YouTube. Sie leidet seit 7 Jahren unter Epilepsie. In viele ihre Videos geht es um andere Sachen, jedoch hat sie nun auch ein Paar Videos hochgeladen worin sie ihre Epilepsiegeschichte erzählt.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;">I found her story very moving, and I find Karen herself very open and authentic. Watching her videos kind of makes you want to reach out and give her a big hug.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Ich fand ihre Geschichte rührend und Karen selbst finde ich offen und authentisch. Wenn man ihre Videos anschaut möchte man sie einfach drücken. </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;">She mentioned that she plans on uploading more videos on her progress with the condition in the future and I hope she really does, because I think a lot of people with Epilepsy would be touched by her openness and authenticity and would be encouraged in their own daily struggles. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Sie erwähnte, dass sie vorhat künftig weitere Videos bezüglich der Fortschritt der Epilepsie in ihrem Leben hochzuladen und ich hoffe, dass sie das auch tatsächlich macht. Ich denke sie könnte dadurch viele Epilepsiebetroffene erreichen und ermutigen in ihren eigenen täglichen Kampf.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">First a link to the first video she made about her Epilepsy: </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TA34xZApUPQ&t=5s" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TA34xZApUPQ&t=5s</a></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And here's a link to a follow-up video she did on it: </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5U7-uACrxKQ&t=1s" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5U7-uACrxKQ&t=1s</a></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks Karen!</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On a side note: if anyone out there would be interested in writing their own Epilepsy story I would be happy to post their story here as a guest entry. I think it would be good to provide others with an opportunity to share their own struggles, which can be very therapeutic, and it would also afford my readers a little variety. Just write to me in the contact section below.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Nebenbei bemerkt: wenn jemand da draußen interesse hätte ihre eigene Geschichte mit Epilepsie aufzuschreiben es würde mich freuen dies hier als Gastbeitrag zu veröffentlichen. Das würde andere die Gelegenheit bieten ihren eigenen Kampf mit der Epilepsie mit anderen zu teilen, was nicht nur eine therapeutische Wirkung für den Author haben kann sondern auch die Leser dieses Blogs ein Wenig abwechselung bieten. Einfach über den Kontaktspalt unten an mich wenden. </i></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-86826028426587889432017-04-22T12:37:00.001+02:002017-04-28T19:45:55.677+02:00Epilepsy Update 22 April 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1krXLzCUI3Zl0iprv6J9UyzRB2vNtAufR_oSsOuefp-h0UxyO4BkTabPKISc1p-8v_vA4QZuvGm4xjbVGXS9tbS5gsWHsYYhhrshC47vh1Zf2G_kxipthYM3vlLTv6OXeXrI1JTHBIg/s1600/mountain-lion-flathead-valley-montana-pictures.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl1krXLzCUI3Zl0iprv6J9UyzRB2vNtAufR_oSsOuefp-h0UxyO4BkTabPKISc1p-8v_vA4QZuvGm4xjbVGXS9tbS5gsWHsYYhhrshC47vh1Zf2G_kxipthYM3vlLTv6OXeXrI1JTHBIg/s400/mountain-lion-flathead-valley-montana-pictures.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Puma, cougar, mountain lion, catamount, panther...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The puma has up to 40 different names depending on the region. Pumas belong to the same family as house cats rather than lions etc., virtually making them the largest kitty-cats on earth. They are powerful animals, able to leap up to 12 meters horizontally and up to almost 6 meters vertically (jumping up into a tree for example)- both from a standing position. Although they are able to run up to 72 kilometers an hour they are best suited for short, powerful sprints. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Der Puma hat ca. 40 verschiedenen Namen je nach Region. Sie gehören zum Katzenfamilie, wie eine gewöhnliche Hauskatze, und nicht zum Löwenfamilie. Pumas sind solche mächtige Tiere, dass sie aus dem Stand bis zu 12 Meter horizontal und bis zu 6 Meter vertikal springen können (wie zum Beispiel wenn sie direkt hoch in einen Baum springen wollen). Sie können zwar bis zu 72 Kmh laufen, sind jedoch eigentlich für kurze Spurten ausgelegt. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pumas are a kind of role model for me, if you will, having a number of characteristics which I find desirable for my own self- and no I don't mean I want to be able to jump 6 meters high into a tree 😉. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here are a few examples: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Pumas stellen eine Art Vorbild für mich da. Sie besitzen einige Eigenschaften welche ich selber gerne hätte bzw. entwickeln möchte, und nein ich meine nicht, dass ich will 6 Meter in einen Baum hoch springen können 😉 Hier einige Beispiele: </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒</span> Pumas are basically peaceful creatures despite their great strength. They will always avoid trouble if possible because in most cases trouble is a waste of energy, and the possibility always exists that you can be injured during a </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AdfxpgPVk0JYGnR8iBpuU4YYzG8cpUIymD4ZIAN3WQ6DJtTShfRombwCMrX-u0hO5SfY93NTDMpYlsncaoXcp2iORzQSWevc3neC8GDtop7DZpGlXg7OVIs9lTIeuE8vZwS4G8s4PJk/s1600/a23baaae877ebec33dbe6fc30635cc59.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AdfxpgPVk0JYGnR8iBpuU4YYzG8cpUIymD4ZIAN3WQ6DJtTShfRombwCMrX-u0hO5SfY93NTDMpYlsncaoXcp2iORzQSWevc3neC8GDtop7DZpGlXg7OVIs9lTIeuE8vZwS4G8s4PJk/s200/a23baaae877ebec33dbe6fc30635cc59.gif" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">fight. They save their fighting capabilities for fights that are worth fighting or fights that they simply can't avoid. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">They don't waste their great energy on petty spats. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒ </span>Im Grunde genommen sind Pumas friedliche Tiere trotz ihre große Kraft. Sie gehen Streit aus dem Weg wenn möglich, da Streit in den meisten Fällen eine Energieverschwendung ist und die Gefahr immer besteht dabei selbst verletzt zu werden. Sie heben ihren Kampfähigkeiten für Kämpfe welche sich nicht vermeiden lassen auf. Sie verschwenden ihre Kraft nicht für kleine Streitereien. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒</span> Pumas can survive in every region and climate on the face of this earth, from desert to jungle to the arctic. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒ </span>Pumas hunt differently than many other animals, like bears for example. A bear will waltz in roaring and slash everything to pieces, whereas a puma jumps on its preys back and kills it with one bite to the neck, severing the spinal chord and causing instant death. The bear is a steam roller, the puma a surgeon. The puma controls and applies its power like a precision guided missile, the bear explodes indiscriminately like a nuclear bomb. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒ </span>Pumas kommen in jede Landschaft und Klima auf Erden zurecht, von der Wüste bis zur Jungle, sogar in den Arktis.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒</span> Pumas jagen anders im Vergleich zu manch anderes Tier, wie Bären zum Beispiel. Ein Bär stürzt ein und wältzt alles platt. Ein Puma springt auf dem Rücken seine Beute und tötet es mit einem einzigen Nackenbiss. Der Bär ähnelt eine Dampfwälze, der Puma einen chirurg. Der Puma beherrscht und bündelt seine große Kraft wie einen zielgenauen Lenkflugkörper, der Bär eher wie eine Atombombe.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒</span> Pumas know how to cease from their struggles and take a break, relax for a while and enjoy the scenery. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">⇒</span> Pumas sind in der Lage "die Füße hochzulegen" und Pause zu machen, eine Weile die Sicht einfach zu genießen, sozusagen. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm sure that everyone reading this can get my drift as far as how all of the above can be applied to a life with Epilepsy...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich schätze, dass jeder, welche diese Zeilen liest, verstehen wird worauf ich hinaus möchte bezüglich obige Eigenschaften und ein Leben mit Epilepsie...</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Speaking of Epilepsy...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I was at the neurologist's last Wednesday for a check-up- blood and EEG- two weeks after the switch from Topirimat to Vimpat. Doc wanted to make sure I'm taking to the Vimpat ok and to trigger a seizure while I was hooked up to the EEG. All that was necessary for that was to have me not take my morning medication and do the tests 3 hours later. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I did them a favor and had 3 complex partial seizures in a row! The first one came before the pretty young technician could even get me hooked up. She had to wait several minutes until it was over to continue placing the electrodes. I had 2 more seizures during the EEG. Actually I was in a complete daze before I even left home. I left on my bike but very quickly had to get off and push it because I was all over the road. I had planned on going to work after the tests but in the end I went straight home and called in sick. The first thing I did upon arriving at home was to sleep for about 3 hours. I did go to work the next day but I was still pretty out of it from the heavy seizures the day before. </b></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I have to go back to the neurologist's on the 2nd of May to discuss the results with him. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Other than that I am generally feeling much better. The epileptic daze has become much, much weaker and any seizures- with the exception of those at the doc's- are weak and very short- mostly around 30 seconds. I can live with that...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Nun kommen wir zum Epilepsie...</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Ich habe irgendwo gelesen, dass ein Mal auslassen von Vimpat Anfälle auslösen kann und ich habe feststellen dürfen, dass dies womöglich auch stimmt. Ich hatte einen Termin beim Neurologen zwecks EEG und Blutabnahme vorigen Mittwoch- 2 Wochen nach der Wechsel von Topirimat zum Vimpat. Es sollte nicht nur nachgeschaut werden inwiefern ich den Vimpat vertrage, sondern man wollte auch womöglich einen Anfall triggern während ich an das EEG angeschlossen war. Es stellte sich heraus, dass ich lediglich nur die Medikamente frühs weglassen musste um das wahr zu machen. Ich habe Onkel Doktor den Gefallen getan und lieferte gleich 3 komplex Fokale Anfälle hintereinander! Der erste kam schon während die hübsche EEG Dame mich überhaupt komplett anschließen konnte. Sie mußte mehrere Minuten warten um die restliche Elektroden anzuschließen. Die anderen kamen während der EEG. Es began eigentlich bevor ich die Wohnung überhaupt verlassen konnte, sprich ich befand mich in einen solchen Epi-Nebel, dass ich nach einen kurzen Versuch mit dem Fahrrad zum Neurologe zu fahren absteigen und es schieben musste. Ich konnte nicht Mal in eine gerade Linie fahren. Ich hatte eigentlich vor arbeiten zu gehen nach der Untersuchungen, jedoch habe ich mich gleich hinterher krank gemeldet und bin heimgefahren- und schlief erst Mal ca. 3 Stunden. Ich ging am nächsten Tag arbeiten aber ich war immer noch durcheinander von den schweren Anfällen am Vortag. </i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Am 2. Mai muss ich wieder in die Praxis erscheinen um die Ergebnisse mit Dr. Vollhardt zu besprechen. </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Ansonsten geht es mir im Alltemein wesentlich besser 😊</i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Der epileptische Nebel ist <u>sehr</u> zurückgegangen und etwaige Anfälle - mit Ausnahme der oben beschriebenen provizierte Anfälle- sind schwach und sehr kurz geworden- meist ca. 30 Sekunden. Damit kann ich leben...</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Vielleicht wird alles doch gut!!!</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Thank you Jesus for making a way, for giving Dr. Vollhardt the wisdom to see what was going wrong...</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-83882897753121222912017-04-17T08:29:00.000+02:002018-09-13T22:43:21.961+02:00The Kansas Sheriff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Jeder Fernfahrer in die USA kennt sie und hasst sie. Es sind die weigh stations auf der freeway. Dort muss jedes LKW durchfahren und von Staatswegen seinen Wagon weigen lassen. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>You all know what I'm talking about because you've seen them on the freeway, looking kind of like rest areas, only it says "Weigh Station" on the sign. All trucks have to pull in there and be weighed. You've seen them, but did you ever ask yourself just what goes on there?</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Jeder, der schon in die USA gereist ist und auf der Freeway gefahren ist hat sie schon Mal gesehen, die Wiegestationen. Hast du dir jemals gefragt, was vor sich geht in so eine Station?</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Generally speaking there's a weigh station every time you enter or leave a state. The law says that 18-wheelers may weigh maximum 80,000 lbs in total, but many people may not know that there are also laws regulating how those 80,000 lbs are distributed over the rig's axles. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Here's the breakdown:</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Im Grunde genommen muss jeder LKW in die USA sich beim ein- und ausfahren eines jeden Bundesstaates in so eine Station wiegen lassen. Das Gesamtgewicht darf höchstens 80,000 Pfund betragen, jedoch gibt's auch Bestimmungen bezüglich die Verteilung des Gewichts auf die einzelnen Achsen. (siehe oben).</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Both the double axles at the back of the trailer as well as the 5th-wheel, which is found on the back of the tractor and couples the tractor to the trailer, are mounted on rails and can be moved forward and backward. Move an axle forward and it takes on weight- thereby taking weight off another axle, or the other way around. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Beide Doppleachsen sind auf Schienen montiert und können vor- und zurück geschoben werden. Wird eine achse vorgeschoben nimmt es Gewicht auf und entlastet eine der anderen Achsen- und umgekehrt das Gegenteil. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Quite a few states will give you a little bit of leeway, but others are very, very exact- like California and Illinois, for example. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Viele Bundesstaaten sind eher locker was die Bestimmungen angehen und lassen so einiges durchgehen, jedoch nehmen einige die Bestimmungen sehr ernst- wie California oder Illinois zum Beispiel. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Now an experienced truck driver has a feeling for the weight distribution and tells the forklift driver how to position the load while it's being loaded, and he's usually pretty close to being right. He still has to go to the first truck stop he comes to- almost all of them have truck scales- and weigh his truck to make sure it's right. If not he has to slide the axles accordingly.It's best to do that before you enter an official weigh station because you'll have to pay a fine if it's not right.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Ein erfahrene LKW Fahrer hat ein Gefühl entwickelt für die Verteilung des Gewichts auf die Achsen und lässt die Ladung gleich nach Gefühl verteilen auf den Auflieger wenn er in eine Firma auflädt. Trotzdem muss er hinterher zu einem Autohof fahren- fast jeder Autohof in die USA besitzt eine Waage für LKWs. Stimmt die Verteilung nicht, muss er die einzelnen Achsen entsprechend vor- oder zurückschieben. Tut er das nicht und stimmt die Verteilung des Gewichts nicht, wird er möglicherweise ein Bußgeld bezahlen müssen wenn er später über die nächste staatliche Waage fährt.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbqnBv9XZDkxHHrJ_Pbh93c42FAGaEqlmpkE71d2WZZZ1nuCQmzvEOIh3iDCZ6MX-FSCWX8DwoBwGuyK1v4PucwB_r75nDkvOiGw4PPs9390Y4-e1Od-W9qi4AG2hocK1GCZYTVubhtw/s1600/WildwoodI75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="84" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbqnBv9XZDkxHHrJ_Pbh93c42FAGaEqlmpkE71d2WZZZ1nuCQmzvEOIh3iDCZ6MX-FSCWX8DwoBwGuyK1v4PucwB_r75nDkvOiGw4PPs9390Y4-e1Od-W9qi4AG2hocK1GCZYTVubhtw/s200/WildwoodI75.jpg" width="200" /></a>Back to the question of what happens when you go through a weigh station. There is a scale to drive over with a small building next to it, a traffic light and a loudspeaker. There is also a parking lot behind that small building, and that's where the one thing happens that truck drivers fear the most: vehicle safety check. If that light goes red and the officer in that little building tells you to pull around back, you know you're screwed because they're going to check your truck from top to bottom, and they're likely to keep looking until they find something. Thank goodness that doesn't happen often. Generally speaking you just drive over the scale very, very slowly, and the officer can see whether or not your weight is about right. The light usually stays green and you can just drive on. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Was genau geschiet in so einem Weigh Station? Also, es gibt eine große Waage zum drüberfahren und eine kleine Hütte neben dran. Auch eine Ampel und Lautsprecher sind neben der Waage montiert. Hinter die Hütte befindet sich einen Parkplatz. Dort geschiet das, was LKW Fahrer am meisten fürchtet: dort wird die Fahrtauglich des Fahrzeugs geprüft. Das Herz eines jeden LKW Fahrers bleibt kurz stehen wenn die Ampel auf rot schaltet und der Beamte, welche in der Hütte sitzt, dich anweist auf dem Parkplatz hinten zu fahren wegen Fahrzeugkontrolle. Man weiß, sie werden so lange schauen bis sie etwas finden! Normalerweise bleibt die Ampel jedoch auf grün und man zieht sehr langsam über die Waage. Der Beamte sieht dann ob das Gewicht ungefär stimmt Im normalfall bleibt die Ampel grün und man kann gleich weiterfahren. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>You don't often see weigh stations anywhere but on the freeway, seldom on side roads. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Es gibt selten Wiegestationen auf Landstrassen, da sie sich hauptsächlich auf die Freeways beschränken. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>I loaded my 18-wheeler in Omaha, Nebraska one time with a load bound for Dallas, Texas, meaning I had to drive through the whole state of Kansas from north to south. I was excited because I'd never been to Kansas before! I had the whole weekend for the trip so I decided to take side roads in order to get to know the real Kansas. Besides, I was overloaded and wanted to avoid weigh stations, which as I said are mostly on the freeway. Now, if anyone from Kansas is reading this please don't be offended, but what I saw of Kansas was kind of boring. I drove through miles and miles and miles of corn fields, the corn so high that I could just see over it from the cab of my truck. It was an ocean of corn as far as the eye could see, hour after hour. Nothing but corn. It was like being the last man on earth in a Stephen King novel. </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Ein Mal habe ich eine Ladung in Omaha, Nebraska geladen, welche für Dallas, Texas bestimmt war. Das bedeutete, dass ich die Bundesstaat Kansas from oben bis unten durchfahren musste. Da ich bis zu dem Zeitpunkt noch nie in Kansas gewesen bin und das ganze Wochenende für die Fahrt hatte, habe ich mich entschlossen den Bundesstaat auf Landstrassen zu durchfahren. Ausserdem war meinem LKW überladen und ich wollte die weigh stations, welche fast ausschließlich auf die Freeway sind, umgehen. Nun, wenn jemand aus Kansas diese Zeilen liest bitte verzeih mir aber ich fand Kansas nur langweilig. Ich fuhr Kilometer an Kilometer an Kilometer durch Kornfelder. Das Korn war so hochgewachsen, dass ich gerade drüberschauen konnte von meinem hohen Sitz im Fahrerhaus. Es war ein endloses Meer aus Korn. Soweit das Auge sehen konnte war nichts als Korn, und das stundenlang. Ich hatte das Gefühl, dass ich in einen Stephan King Roman versetzt worden bin und der letzte Mensch auf Erden war. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Just imagine my complete surprise- and frustration- when after endless miles of having seen nothing but an endless ocean of corn as far as the eye could see (and wanting nothing more than to get out of Kansas as quickly as I could), when a break in the corn suddenly opened up and a little weigh station appeared! I just couldn't believe it! "This has got to be the most idiotic place on earth to build a weigh station", I thought to myself, "out in the middle of an endless sea of corn, seemingly no other human being anywhere for miles and miles. There's probably a bored, country hick sheriff sitting in the shack just waiting to tear up some poor, innocent truck driver, just to relieve the boredoom"</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Stell dir vor wie verblüfft ich war, nach unendliche Stunden mit nichts als Korn so weit das Auge sehen kann, als das Kornmeer sich plötzlich auftat und eine kleine Wiegestation in Erscheinung getreten ist. "Was ist das denn für eine bescheuerte Stelle eine Waage hinzuklatchen?", fragte ich mich ernsthaft, hier inmitten eines Kornmeers. "Da sitzt bestimmt einen gelangweilten, Landei Sheriff in die Hütte, der die ganze Zeit nur darauf gewartet hatte, dass einen LKW sich in diese Einöde verirrt damit er den so richtig auseinder nehmen kann um seine Langeweile zu vertreiben.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Welche Erleichterung ich spürte als ich sehen konnte, dass das Schild am Eingang der Station auf "closed" gestanden war. Zu früh freute ich mich aber, denn das Schild schaltete sofort um auf "open". </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>I resisted the urge to pull out my chrome-plated 380-automatic and shoot that stupid sign full of holes, and pulled onto the scale like a good boy. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, the light next to the scale went red and a voice came over the loudspeaker, introducing itself as Deputy Sheriff Monroe and telling me to shut my truck off and come inside. The man said he needed to do a vehicle safety inspection!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Die Versuchung meine 380er Halbautomatik Pistole zu zücken und das Schild voller Löcher zu ballern unterdruckte ich. Statdessen führ ich schön brav auf die blöde Waage. Dann, zu allem Übel, schaltete die Ampel auf rot und ich vernahm eine Stimme aus dem Lautsprecher, der sich als Deputy Sheriff Monroe vorstellte und mich anwies meinem LKW abzustellen und reinzukommen. Man müsse die Fahrtauglichkeit meines Fahrzeugs kontrolliern!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"This guy has got to be joking", I thought to myself. "The worst thing that could happen out here if my truck wasn't safe was that I might run over a groundhog or something! </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Das muss wohl ein übeles Scherz sein", dachte ich mir. Das schlimmste, dass hier in der Einöde passieren könnte bei einem nicht fahrtaugliches Fahrzeug ist, dass ich eventuell ein Murmeltier über einen Haufen fahren könnte!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Well, I had no choice but to go into that little building where that stupid sheriff was. Yet I couldn't believe what I saw when I went in: Mr. Sheriff was reclining behind a desk, his scuffed and worn down boots up on the desk, watching a soap opera of all things on the television that was mounted on the wall! The man pulled a sheet of paper and a pen out of a drawer without ever even taking his feet off the desk. Then he began to go through the checklist: "How are your tires?", he asked. I assured him that they were fine. "Do all the lights work?", was the next question, to which I answered that they were all in perfect working order. It went on like that down through the whole checklist until it was complete. Then Deputy Sheriff Monroe signed and stamped that form, handed me a copy, and told me to have a nice trip!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b><i>Es blieb mir nichts anderes übrig als in die kleine Hütte zu gehen wo der blöde Sheriff war. Ich traute aber meine Augen nicht als ich eintrat und einen zurücklehnenden Mann dort hinter einen Schreibtisch sitzend sah, seine dreckige und abgenützte Stiefel lässig auf den Schreibtish hochgelegt. Ein Seifenoper (wie peinlich)lief auf einem an der Wand montierten Fernseher. Ohne die Füße überhaupt vom Tisch zu nehmen zog der Sheriff einen Formular und Stift aus eine Schublade und fing an eine Checkliste durchzuarbeiten. "Sind die Reifen noch in Ordnung?", fragte er. Ich versicherte ihn, dass sie alle in top Zustand waren. Als nächstes fragte er ob alle Lichter funktionsfähig waren. "Alle perfekt funktionsfähig", teilte ich ihn mit. So ging es durch das die ganze Checkliste, einen Punkt nach dem anderen. Zum Schluß unterschrieb und stempelte er das Formular, gab mir eine Kopie davon, und wünschte mir eine gute Weiterfahrt!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>I went back to my truck, put that 16-speed road ranger transmission in gear, and pulled out of there. As I was leaving I thought to myself: </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Maybe the Great State of Kansas isn't that bad after all"...</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Ich ging zu meinem LKW zurück, legte einen Gang des 16 Gang Road Ranger Getriebe ein, und fuhr fort. Als ich wegführ dachte ich mir aber: </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><b>"Vielleicht ist der Bundesstaat Kansas doch gar nicht so schlimm wie ich dachte!"</b></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-9967068653977903532017-04-14T10:16:00.000+02:002017-04-29T12:31:33.802+02:00Epilepsy Update 14 April 2017 (Deutsch/English)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I just love lizards!</span><br />
<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lizards have got to be one of the happiest and most playful animals on the planet. I love the way lizards will suddenly appear when you're outside somewhere and sit just out of your reach, playfully taunting you as if they're daring you to try and catch them. Then when you reach your hand out to touch them they go "zip", and are just out of your reach again, and you could swear that they're laughing at you! "Ha ha ha, I'm faster than you are, you can't get me!" It seems like they could play cat and mouse like that for hours.</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich liebe Eidechsen! </i></span><br />
<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Eidechsen sind wahrscheinlich einer der glücklichste und verspielteste Tierarten auf Erden. Es ist so cool wie sie auf ein Mal auftauchen wenn man draußen spazieren geht und wie sie dort sitzen, gerade außerhalb deiner Reichweite, und dich vermeintlich herausfordern zu versuchen sie einzufangen. Wenn du aber deine Hand ausstreckst um sie zu berühren sausen sie weg, gerade außerhalb deiner Reichweite. Dann sitzen sie dort und lachen dich aus! "Na na na na na, ich bin schneller als du und du kannst mich nicht fangen!" Man könnte meinen, dass sie stunden lang Katz und Maus spielen könnten. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We did a 4 week training stint in the Mohave desert back when I was in the Army. I was a driver, specialized in off-road driving and was assigned a 4-wheel drive pickup, a Chevy 5/4 ton. It was my job to drive a staff Sergeant around the desert to different places where the rest of the company was working. I'd drop him off and he'd tell me to pick him back up in a couple of hours. I'd drive around the desert trying to find the roughest terrain I could to "practice" my off-road driving skills (Practicing = playing). Well one day I was taking a break, just sitting there in my pickup somewhere in the middle of the Mohave, when suddenly a bee flew by, then another and another. Now bees are an indicator that water is close by, since they need lots of water and always live close to a water hole. I got out of my truck and followed those bees, and sure enough I found a water hole not far away. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The funny thing is that there was a lizard there at that water hole, and he was a big one! His body was about as big as a small dog and he must have been over a meter long from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail! He looked really dangerous, as lizards do, but he turned out to be just as playful as the little ones you normally see in every day life! He played cat and mouse with me, just like the small ones do! He must have played with me for 10 minutes or so, then he must have gotten bored because he took off into the desert. </span><br />
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<i><span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Als ich in die Armee war haben wir eine 4-wöchige Trainingseeinheit in die Mohave Wüste gemacht. Ich war Fahrer, auf Geländefahren spezilisiert und mein Job war es einen Sergeant überall in die Wüste herum zu fahren zu den verschiedenen Stellen wo den Rest der Einheit in kleinen Gruppen ihre Arbeit nachgingen. Ich wurde ihn rauslassen und ein Paar Stunden später wieder abholen. Ich fuhr bei den Gelegenheiten gerne irgendwo in unwegsame Gebiete und übte meine off-road Geschlichkeit (eigentlich habe ich das nur zum Spass gemacht). Ein Mal saß ich geparkt da und machte Pause. Plötzlich ist eine Biene vorbeigeflogen, dann noch eine und wiederum eine. Nun, ich wusste, dass Bienen viel Wasser brauchen und immer nah am Wasser leben. Ich bin ausgestiegen und folgte die Bienen nach, und fand tatsächlich Wasser nicht weit entfernt. Das Lustige war, dass einen sehr große Eidechse dort am Wasser war. Seinen Körper war ungefär so groß wie ein kleiner Hund und er müßte </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">von der Nasenspitze bis zur Schwanzspitze mindestens 1 Meter lang gewesen sein! Wie gewohnt sah diese Eidechse gefährlich aus aber stellt dir vor, er war genauso verspielt wie die Kleinen, welche man normalerweise überall begegnet! Er spielte Katz und Maus mit mir für ungefär 10 Minuten, dann wurde es ihm scheinbar langweilig und er drehte sich um und verschwand in die Wüste. </span></i><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On to the subject of Epilepsy. I've been off the Topirimat for 7 days now and have been taking the full dose of Vimpat for 4 1/2 days, and things are going well. The transition from Topirimat to Vimpat has been surprisingly easy compared to every other medication adjustment I've ever gone through. Wednesday was actually the only day where I had more than minor difficulties, and that was a light migraine for part of the day, which went away after I took a couple of hours off from work and took a nap. I only had like 4 complex partial seizures the whole week, but they were weak and only lasted 1-2 minutes- with one exception which lasted about 5 minutes. I can live with that! Being so weak such seizures don't really make me tired or anything afterwards. Things just get funny for a couple of minutes and then life goes on as before. Much better than the 3-4 stronger seizures that I've been having every day for over a year now, seizures which sometimes lasted up to 20 Minutes.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Nun zum Thema Epilepsie. Seit 7 Tage nehme ich kein Topirimat mehr und seit 4 1/2 Tage die volle Dosis der neuen Medikament, Vimpat. Der Wechsel erfolgt erstaunlich einfach im Vergleich zu jeden anderen Veränderung in der Medikamente bisher. Lediglich am Mittwoch war es ein Wenig schwieriger, habe nämlich ein schwacher Migraine für einen Teil des Tages gespürt, welche aber Verschwand nachdem ich ein Paar Stunden von der Arbeit freigenommen habe und einen Mittagsschlaf gemacht habe. Über die Woche verteilt hatte ich vielleicht 4 Komplex Fokale Anfälle. Die Anfälle waren aber schwach und dauerten, mit eine Ausnahme, lediglich 1-2 Minuten, die Ausnahme etwa 5 Minuten. Damit kann ich leben! Da die Anfälle so schwach sind bin ich hinterher nicht müde. So wie diese waren wurde mir kurz komisch, dann ging's einfach weiter. Das ist ein großer Fortschritt gegenüber die 3-4 tägliche Anfälle, die stärker waren und manchmal bis zu 20 Minuten gedauert haben, die mich seit über einen Jahr geplagt haben.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was in a good mood all week, singing as I worked. I had more energy than I've had for months. No more impatience or aggression. My brain worked surprisingly well and my memory was better. My work was very successful. I especially enjoyed my workouts in my home gym every evening because I finally felt good again and had so much more power. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich war gut gelaunt die ganze Woche, habe sogar gesungen während ich gearbeitet habe. Keine Spur von ungeduld oder gar Aggression. Ich hatte mehr Energie als seit Monate. Mein Gehirn war erstaunlich leistungsfähig und mein Gedächtnis besser. Meine Arbeit war sehr erfolgreich. Besonders schön waren die allabendliche Workouts in meinem Heim Fitness Studio, denn endlich fühlte ich mich besser und hatte viel mehr Kraft. </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hope...</span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I feel hope...</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hope that things are really going to become good again. Hope that I will be able to live normally again, maybe even becoming 100% migraine and seizure free as the new medication takes hold more and more- even though my neurologist told me about a year ago that it may not be possible to get me completely seizure free anymore, and that the goal is to make the seizures as weak as possible and as infrequent as possible. I hope anyway, despite what he says. He is, after all, only a man of flesh and blood and he is not all-knowing. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Hoffnung...</i></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich spüre wieder Hoffnung...</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Die Hoffnung, dass alles wieder gut wird, dass ich bald wieder werde normal leben können wenn das neue Medikament komplett eingewöhnt ist, eventuell sogar 100% Migraine- und Anfall frei werden könnte. Der Neurologe sagte zwar vor etwa einem Jahr, dass es vielleicht nicht mehr möglich sein wird mich komplett Anfallsfrei zu bekommen, sondern es wird darauf gezielt die Anfalle möglichst selten- und wenn dann so schwach wie möglich zu machen. Na ja, der Onkel Doktor ist ja auch nur aus Fleisch und Blut und weiß nicht alles.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I feel alive again!!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">What a blessing!!!</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-51908594141108688132017-04-08T10:22:00.000+02:002017-04-15T19:47:43.745+02:00Epilepsy Update 08 April 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Forword: I've decided to try an experiment in this post. Considering the fact that I have so many German readers I've written this post in both German and English.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I guess I can post some good news for a change today!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>So
wie es aussieht darf ich zur Abwechslung Positives berichten!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been feeling a lot better for the past week, and what a relief that is. I'm hoping and praying that it will stay that way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Ich kann mit Erleichterung sagen, dass es mir viel besser ging die vergangene Woche. Ich hoffe und bete, dass es auch so weiter geht. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So I had my normal check-up at my neurologist's last Monday, and I was completely honest with him about how I've been doing instead of playing my usual macho I'm doing fine role- as I promised myself I would in my last post! It was a good thing too because Dr. Vollhardt said right away that he was convinced that my problems were being caused by one of the seizure medications I'm taking, namely the Topirimat, which I've been taking in combination with Lamotrigine. Apparently it's not doing what it's supposed to do, while at the same time causing every possible side-effect that goes along with it. It's been magnifying the anxiety and depression that people with Epilepsy so often have to deal with anyway, and it's been making me aggressive. My brain has been immersed in a vat of oil all the time, making thinking all but impossible. All that has been burning so much energy that I've been really run down and just about at the end of my rope. He says me and Topirimat just aren't meant for each other. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Vorigen Montag hatte ich Kontrolle beim Neurologe und ich habe meine sonst übliche Macho, mir geht's gut Rolle abgelegt- wie im letzten Beitrag bereits angekündigt. Das war auch gut, denn Dr. Vollhardt war sofort überzeugt, dass meinem Leiden der letzten Monate durch eine der Medikamente welche ich nehme verursacht wird, nämlich der Topirimat (ich nehme sie in Kombination mit Lamotrigine). Anscheinend hat es nicht die erwünschte Wirkung, jedoch bei vollen Genuss der unerwünschten Nebenwirkungen. Die ohnehin von Epileptiker bekannte Depressive Phasen und Angstzustände werden verstärkt und ich wurde dazu auch noch aggressiv. Ich konnte keine Gedanken mehr fassen weil mein Gehirn ständig wie eingetaucht war in einem Faß mit Öl befüllt. Das verbrauchte so viel Energie, dass ich fertig und am Ende war. Der Neurologe meinte, dass ich das Topirimat einfach nicht vertrage.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So he's taking me off Topirimat and putting me on Vimpat- along with the Lamotrigine that I've been taking since 2012. So now the Topirimat has to be phased out slowly while the Vimpat is phased in at the same time. The switch will take 4 weeks altogether. Then they'll take blood and do an EEG, and the neurologist will see me a week later to discuss the results and insure that I'm taking to the Vimpat ok. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Also wird das Topirimat ausgeschlichen und Vimpat gleichzeitig eingeschlichen. Das Lamotrigine, dass ich seit 2012 einnehme, bleibt gleich natürlich. Der Wechsel dauert eigentlich 4 Wochen insgesamt. Dann wird Blut abgenommen und einen EEG gemacht. Eine Woche später wird beim Neurologe vorgesprochen um zu sehen ob alles im Butter ist mit dem neuen Medikament und mir. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Everybody with Epilepsy knows how that is. Any change in medication is difficult, and completely switching from one medication to another is no exception. It's a real roller coaster ride until you get used to the change. And still I believe I noticed a positive difference right from day one- which was last Tuesday. I used to take Topirimat in the mornings and evenings but have left off the morning dose since Tuesday, taking the Vimpat instead. Evenings I take both. The Topirimat falls away completely starting today, and I go to the full initial dose of Vimpat on Monday. </span><br />
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Jeder mit Epilepsie kennt das: jede Veränderung in der Medikamente ist schwierig und eine komplette Umstellung ist keine Ausnahme. Es kann ein richtiger Achterbahnfahrt werden bis man sich dran gewohnt hat. Und doch meine ich einen positiven Unterschied gleich am ersten Tag- also vorigen Dienstag, gemerkt zu haben. Bisher nahm ich Topirimat jeweils morgens und abends, aber die Tablette frühs fällt seit Dienstag weg. Dafür kommt Frühs und Abends einen vimpat dazu. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So on the first morning Topirimat was left off- last Tuesday as I said, I noticed a marked difference as the day progressed and the Topirimat slowly left my system more and more. I felt more energetic, my mood lifted and my heart became lighter, I felt no aggression whatsoever and my memory began working better than it has for months. No migraine. No seizures. I was even able to think better in some way. I felt the effects of the change in medication itself a little bit, but only rather mildly. I wondered if the sense of relief, the release from the suffering I've been going through for so long, wasn't just vastly overshadowing the effects of the medication switch? I didn't care what the reason was. I felt much better and that's all that mattered. Sometime in the late afternoon after all of my charges had left and I was alone in the office, I actually found myself singing a song as I moved around the office! I don't mean I said to myself, "I think I'll sing a song". I was working away, moving around the office, and simply became aware of the fact that I was singing!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>So gleich am ersten Tag ohne das Topirimat in der Früh, also vorigen Dienstag, habe ich im Laufe des Tages einen deutlichen Unterschied gespürt als der Pegel in meinem Blut immer weiter gesunken ist. Ich hatte mehr Energie und meine Laune wurde besser, mein Herz leichter. Ich spürte keine Aggression mehr und mein Gedächtnis wurde sogar besser als seit Monate. Keine Spur von Migraine noch von Anfälle. Ich konnte auch besser denken, irgendwie. Natürlich habe ich auch die Auswirkungen der Medikamentenwechsel gespürt aber sie waren eher als mild einzustufen. ich habe mich gefragt ob die große Linderung der sonstiges Leiden die Auswirkungen der Wechsel nicht einfach übertönt? Es war mir egal warm so lange es mir besser ging. Spät nachmittags, nachdem meine Schützlinge nach Hause gegangen sind und ich alleine war im Büro, ertappte ich mich dabei einen Lied zu singen als ich mich um das Büro bewegte und arbeitete! Das soll nicht heißen, dass ich absichtlich einen Lied gesungen habe. Nein, ich habe einfach gearbeitet und es ist mir plötzlich bewusst geworden, dass ich singe!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Since the Topirimat is being phased out I had to take it that evening and I just kind of swallowed it absent-mindedly, habitually. I was making dinner at the time and some time later I found myself getting sad and my brain getting more and more confused, it getting harder and harder to think. At one point I was trying to open a package or something and it wasn't working out, and I found myself becoming aggressive and uptight, wanting to throw the package up against the wall. Then a light went on in my head and I looked at the clock; I had just taken the Topirimat around 30 minutes ago, and here I was getting depressed and aggressive again, plus my brain function was shutting down...</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></span><i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Da das Topirimat erst ausgeschlichen werden muss, wie bekannt, dürfte ich die Abendtablette noch schlucken. Dies habe ich auch getan, gedankenlos, gewohnheitsmäßig. Ich war gerade dabei das Abendessen zu kochen und irgendwann merkte ich, dass ich irgendwie traurig wurde und, dass mein Gehirn immer tiefer in eine Art Verwirrung versank. An eine Stelle wollte ich irgendwas aufmachen aber es funktionierte nicht gleich. Ich merkte wie Aggression in mir hochkam und ich wollte die Packung, die nicht aufgehen wollte, gegen die Wand schleudern. Plötzlich ging ein licht auf und ich schaute auf die Uhr: ich hatte das Topirimat vor etwa 30 Minuten genommen und nun wurde ich depressiv und aggressiv, und mein Gehirn war dabei sich herunterzufahren...</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That same thing was repeated every day this week. More and more relief as the day progresses, then it all comes back after taking the Topirimat in the evening. I'm so glad that I took that stuff for the last time yesterday evening. </span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Die gleiche Erfahrung habe ich an den Folgetage diese Woche auch gemacht. Immer größere Linderung im Laufe eines jeden Tages ohne das Topirimat, dann kam das ganze Mist wieder nach der Einnahme der Abendtablette. Ich bin froh, dass ich das letzte Topirimat genommen habe gestern abend. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The effects of the switch in medications began to become heavier starting on Thursday and have been steadily increasing since then, but right now I don't care about that because my general condition is so much better- and I know that the effects of the switch will soon pass. </span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Die Auswirkungen der Medikamentenwechsel an für sich wurden ab Donnerstag etwas stärker, aber das war mir egal solange meinem Allgemeinzustand so viel besser war. Ausserdem weiß man, dass die Umstellung bald vorbei sein wird. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know what every person with Epilepsy who is reading this is thinking right now: don't get your hopes up too high yet, it's only been a few short days. Don't plan any trips to scale Mt. Everest just yet. Yes, that's true and I know that only time will tell for sure, but I sure do have a great first impression. </span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ich vermute, dass jeder Epelepsiebetroffene, welche diese Zeilen liest, denkt sich: "Freu dich nicht zu früh, es sind ja nur ein paar Tage vergangen. Buche noch keine Bergsteiger Tour nach Mt. Everest. Ja, das stimmt und ich weiß, dass es dauert bis man genau wissen kann wie es wirklich funktionieren wird. Mein erster Eindruck ist aber sehr gut. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wouldn't that be fantastic? There I was, at the end of my rope, writing about whether or not I was even going to be able to keep on working full time if everything kept going like it was going, and it turns out that everything might get a lot better now just by taking a different pill. </span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wäre das nicht der Hammer? Ich war komplett am Ende, hatte mich gefrage wie lange ich noch würde vollzeit arbeiten können wenn's so weiter ging. Und doch wird alles vielleicht noch gut mit einem anderen Medikament.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So now I'm going to sit back, buckle my seat belt, and ride out the rest of the phasing-in process of the Vimpat.</span></div>
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<i style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So nun zurücklehnen, anschnallen, und sich auf die weitere Einschleichung der Vimpat einstellen. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let it be, Lord Jesus, that this new medication lets me live normally again...</span><br />
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<i style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lass es doch sein, Herr Jesus, dass das neue Medikament mir wieder ein normales Leben beschert...</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-6077554457194651542017-04-01T12:19:00.000+02:002017-04-01T12:19:24.418+02:00Epilepsy Update 01 April 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I haven't written an update on the Epilepsy activity in my life since the 11th of March. For one thing I'm trying to add a little variety to this blog and for that reason have posted a couple of other things, and for another I'm tired of always having to report negative things. I guess it's time to update again, although putting it all together seems like a monumental task as I sit here at my laptop on this Saturday morning. This stuff is pretty personal, but if it helps someone out there who has Epilepsy and who is going through a rough time, then I don't mind sharing...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>At this point I'm in the waning days of the worst monster migraine of my Epilepsy career...</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's becoming clear to me that something is going to have to change. I'm not sure what yet, whether it will have to be something at work, or something with my medications, or something else. But the experiences of the past 2 weeks have made it clear that it cannot go on like this because it's getting dangerous.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let me start with some good news: there was a phase of a few days that were pretty good in between. Days where my head was relatively clear and I actually felt some zest for life again. Seizure activity was almost non-existent, and that little bit was very weak. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then, around the 18th or 19th of March, two weekends ago, my brain began to feel funny again. I'd be working around the kitchen or doing something in the apartment and suddenly forget what I was doing. Later in the day I began to have rather unpleasant complex partial seizures- with nausea. It was pretty clear that a bad phase was beginning again, though I desperately hoped I was wrong. I woke up in a light daze Monday morning and it increased as the day wore on, continuing to get worse on Tuesday as well. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>By Wednesday it had blossomed into the worst monster migraine that I've ever had up till now...</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is no way for me to adequately describe that condition. I was like the person in the photo at the beginning of this post, dead, except that I was still walking. Walking dead. I was so bad off that I didn't even realize how bad off I was. I got up and went to work, dead on arrival. I couldn't think. I couldn't feel. I didn't really know where I was or what I was doing. Looking back now it's almost as if I'd been on an alcoholic binge, complete with periods of blackout. On top of that I was locked in the vice grip of anxiety. I couldn't eat or drink. The mere effort of turning my PC on at work was a gargantuan task. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That was the 22nd of March. The migraine had weakened just a tiny bit the next day- it was still extreme- but I had 4 very, very unpleasant complex partial seizures that lasted around 5-6 minutes each, this time with the nausea that makes me fear that the CPS will go over into a grand mal seizure- which none of them did, thank goodness. They all happened at work and that would have been the end of my career for sure! I had a few CPS on other days during the period I'm writing about, but they were all short and relatively weak. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That monster migraine just started ebbing away last Thursday evening, the 30th of March. That means that it lasted for 11 days, most intensely for 8 of those days, raging mercilessly, unendingly, day and night, all-encompassing, robbing me of my very humanity. I had no energy whatsoever and felt like I was crawling on all fours. I couldn't think. I couldn't feel. My body moved around on automatic but I wasn't really there. I was in there looking out but couldn't process what I was seeing, even while going to appointments in town, crossing streets and stuff without really even being aware. I suspect that I may have even begun to have absence seizures as well because I'd be with other people who'd be talking and suddenly realize that I'd missed a whole sentence, for example, because I'd "been gone" for a couple of seconds. I truly came to the point where I wondered if I wasn't simply going to snap.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And still I tried to work...</span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But that didn't work out well at all. I am a counselor, and how do you counsel others when you yourself are dead and can't feel anything, aren't really even human anymore? My work requires that I have a delicate hand emotionally with my charges. That simply was not possible during this migraine and I made mistakes. As a matter of fact that has been getting more difficult with each consecutive migraine over the past I don't know how long- I just haven't been willing to admit it. It's time to admit that it's gotten so bad that I am no longer fit for work when I have one of those monster migraines- and they are all too often. For all of my work ethic, which tells me that a man goes to work no matter how sick he is. For all of the normal existential fears that we all have of losing our employment and our independence, etc. If one is not fit for work, one is not fit for work, period...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So something has got to change because I can't keep going out into the world in that condition, and I especially can't keep going to work like that. For one thing I can no longer be trusted to do my work right in that condition, and for another I am in danger of stepping out in front of a car while crossing the street or something when I'm like that. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But what can be changed? I have an appointment at the neurologist's on Monday and maybe he'll be able to do something about it, change my medication for example. That would be the easiest answer of course: take a pill and it all gets better...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If the neurologist doesn't have any ideas? The fact of the matter is that I'm not fit to work anymore during those phases, and actually not even fit enough to leave the apartment alone- at least part of the time. What I end up doing is going home from work early every day for 8-9 days in a row (after not having really been able to work), so maybe I should try getting a sick slip right away when the bad time begins and stay at home in absolute peace and quiet for like 2 straight days, in the hope that it all quiets down right away and doesn't go on for days in a row. I'm definitely going to have to stay home on the very worst days from now on.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think I'm going to stop there. Otherwise I may find myself spiraling down into dark fears of possibly being forced to reduce my working hours- and all of the difficulties that would entail, all the way to having to go on disability...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think everyone with Epilepsy knows how it is: everything looks dark and forbidding when you're in this phase. It seems like everything is going wrong and nothing will ever be good again. You're in the grip of anxiety and you're emotions are all mixed up. You can't think straight. You imagine the worst, like thinking it's probably over and all is lost and you'll have to go on disability and live like a pauper for the rest of your life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's important to remember that things will look brighter again when this bad phase is over.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If only it would feel like that...</span><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-54773725054771031162017-03-29T20:02:00.000+02:002017-04-15T14:14:28.280+02:00A Guest Vlog Post by Ally<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aseTTc6KOKOVeBNJr8fLk6h5wh7nB0_u9o4UNjPRzLQwo5swkxB7eOTrEYgEDmBOgyRE7k68MS62MY8fRbJ2FMlV4aF6W2gNXkGgqclp9ryLeIF1yI-SCNlgAIx4LjaptQsN5ZUPlvg/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aseTTc6KOKOVeBNJr8fLk6h5wh7nB0_u9o4UNjPRzLQwo5swkxB7eOTrEYgEDmBOgyRE7k68MS62MY8fRbJ2FMlV4aF6W2gNXkGgqclp9ryLeIF1yI-SCNlgAIx4LjaptQsN5ZUPlvg/s200/photo.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">I mentioned having encountered Epilepsy vlogs on YouTube in "Epilepsy Update 18 March 2017", and how decisive they were in helping me learn to cope with Epilepsy for the first few years after my first seizures- above all when it comes to the emotional and practical sides. I also wrote that those vlogs are what inspired me to start my own blog. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Ally Amodeo, above, is a young woman with Epilepsy who has her own YouTube vlog, and her vlog is one of the very vlogs that helped me greatly back then- she probably never knew just how much of a difference she really was making in at least one person's life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">I asked Ally if she'd mind if I were to post a link to one of her videos and she was ok with it, so here it is! Be sure to take a look at the rest of her videos and click follow if you like them.</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Thanks Ally!</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y67V2_a_J-w&lc=z23hxbnhmvaiubh3iacdp435udhkc00uigh4qpywbz5w03c010c.1490810100143843" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y67V2_a_J-w&lc=z23hxbnhmvaiubh3iacdp435udhkc00uigh4qpywbz5w03c010c.1490810100143843</a></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;">Here's an update she uploaded about 3 months before the time of this posting:</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDrOC_oBDgM" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDrOC_oBDgM</a></span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-19639599393578323412017-03-18T13:08:00.000+01:002017-03-18T13:08:10.242+01:00Epilepsy Update 18 March 2017<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Epilepsy is completely bewildering...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>When I woke up in the emergency room at the hospital on that Sunday morning back in late January of 2008, just after having had two epileptic seizures out of the clear blue sky, someone should have put up a sign that read: </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Anyone who has read my very first entry- "My Epilepsy Story"- knows that I denied that I had Epilepsy for the first few years after those first seizures, but that it eventually progressed to the point where it could no longer be denied because it began to seriously affect my everyday life. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I was seeing a neurologist when the Epilepsy began to really impact my life negatively and I told him all that was happening, but his only reaction was to do EEGs, take blood, declare that all was well- and send me home again. I'd walk home in an epileptic daze, pounded by tiny, one second seizures. I felt worse and worse as time went by and it was becoming extremely difficult to continue working. It finally dawned on me that I had a bad neurologist and needed to change, which I later did but which took many months due to long waiting lists. The new neurologist is good but says the damage is done. He can make it better but thinks my seizures my not be able to be stopped completely anymore. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>At any rate it became more and more clear to me that it's up to each and every epileptic to study and research and to learn as much as they can about the illness and how to live with it themselves, and not to depend on doctors for everything. Neurologists are there to keep the medications properly adjusted so that you are as seizure and migraine free as possible, while balancing the side-effects of the medication at the same time. They simply don't have time to teach each and every epileptic the dozens or possibly even hundreds of lifestyle changes they can make that will help minimize seizures and migraines, not to mention the myriad other effects of Epilepsy on everyday life. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>There came a point where I set out to research Epilepsy myself, and thankful I was to be living in the day of the internet! Yet what I found when I began researching was mind boggling! </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Epilepsy is a seemingly infinite, incomprehensibly complex mass of myriad types of seizures, daily effects, medications and combinations of medications, side-effects of medications, symptoms, different combinations of effects and symptoms based on which part of the brain is damaged, and each person has their very own special combination of seizure/migraine triggers, and the list goes on and on and on. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I was basically the only person I knew with Epilepsy when I began my research so I had nobody to ask where I might get more information. I sat down with my laptop and typed Epilepsy into Google, and away I went... </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I found myriad Epilepsy Foundations, forums, chats. I later discovered vlogs, blogs, and a social networking platform for people with Epilepsy. Nowadays there are also Facebook groups. Over the course of the past few years I've come into contact with fellow epileptics from all over the world and heard hundreds of stories. I was bewildered and totally disheartened for a long, long time, I must admit. I actually thought about quitting because it was only dragging me down more. All my research was doing was throwing up more questions. What exactly were all of those things that were happening to me every day? Seizures? Side-effects of the medication? Was it normal that I was lost in a daze half the time? Did every epileptic's brain feel this bad? Was I only imagining it all? Am I "normal", so to speak? In chats and forums I saw hundreds of people who all experienced a million different things and nobody who experienced exactly what I did. I felt ashamed. I must be doing something wrong. I began to have difficulty being honest with my neurologist because I thought it must all be my own fault that I was doing so badly. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Over time however a broad base of common denominators seemed to become vaguely visible, kind of like a very, very large pool of symptoms/effects that is in fact finite and not infinite. Everyone with Epilepsy has a number of things from that pool in some combination, and there are often some similarities in the combinations in connection to the damaged region of the brain. In other words people with right temporal lobe Epilepsy- such as myself- seem to often have somewhat similar symptom/effects combinations. I've also met a number of people with right temporal lobe Epilepsy who's illness progression was astoundingly similar to mine, whereas it was completely different with someone who's focal point is just a few centimeters away. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>In the end I discovered that </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I have my own combination of symptoms/effects from that pool of common denominators and it just took me a while to find other people with similarities, but they're out there. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I feel like one of the things that helped me the most in my search for ways to cope with Epilepsy in everyday life were Epilepsy vlogs on YouTube, as well as various Epilepsy blogs. Questions are answered in a few sentences in forums and chats, but vlogs and blogs go deeper in some way. I guess you could say that the heart of the person comes through and a different kind of connection is established. They share a portion of their life with you. They open themselves to their viewer or reader respectively, and let them see the emotional- the human side of the story in their every day lives. I found myself moved to tears at times and felt like I wasn't alone anymore. I could identify with them. I learned from many of them because I was experiencing many of the same things and they had already worked through some of them, and I was able to benefit from their experience. It was a big help just learning from them that I was "normal", and learning to recognize just exactly what all of the different things that were happening to me every day were. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>That's why I started this blog and that's why I continue writing it, and that's why I try and be totally authentic when I write. There might be somebody out there somewhere who is searching, wondering, </b></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-67319832473181639202017-03-11T12:28:00.001+01:002017-03-11T12:28:20.856+01:00Epilepsy Update 11 March 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have to stop and think hard for a moment about how to begin describing the past week. On the one hand it's all an incoherent blur of events, all overshadowed by struggle and distress and I can only recall most of it after looking back through my appointment book. Yet on the other hand there are a couple of important things that stand out that I need no reference for. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For one thing it seems like a basic pattern may have become clear, or maybe I should say clearer since I began to see the pattern a couple of weeks ago. It would seem that my condition has been "the best" on Mondays and has gotten consistently worse each day as the week progresses. That seems logical and fits the photo above perfectly. My batteries get recharged over the weekend and then get weaker and weaker as the week goes by. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't know how perfectly the analogy fits in my case and it's only begun to become visible since my boss authorized me to work from home on Fridays back on the 4th of February. Here's how I noticed it the first time: Wednesdays seem to be especially vulnerable days, above all the mornings. I often sit there in bed with my coffee, brain swirling, simply not knowing how in the world I'm going to get through the day, everything in me screaming to stay home with the shades drawn. On one Wednesday like 3 or 4 weeks ago it was late morning at work and I was doing really, really bad when it suddenly dawned on me that I only had to hold out for one and a half more days! I could work from home on Friday! Working in peace and quiet. My heart calmed a touch and I took courage. That helps me every every day of every week now, knowing that I only have to make it through till Thursday, that I can work from home on Friday in peace and quiet. Up till now I'd always thought that every day was just as bad as every other but somehow the change to home office on Fridays seems to have opened the way to seeing a pattern that each day gets progressively worse from Monday through Thursday. </span><span style="color: purple; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who knows how true it is? </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>We all know how Epilepsy is: just as soon as you think you understand it, it proves you wrong...</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On another note, a couple of "old friends" returned last week:</span><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Seizures and emotional storms. Seizures have been very light and rare and emotional storms practically non-existent since the 23rd of January, the day I woke up with that extremely strange feeling in my brain. That feeling, though much weaker, hasn't left since then, and everything else has changed. As I said there have only been occasional seizures and they have been light, and there have been no real emotional storms to speak of. I cannot say whether or not I've had any migraines because my brain has been in a constant, never-ending epileptic daze to one extent or another since that day, and I don't know if I'd even recognize a migraine through the daze. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That epileptic daze was stronger right from the beginning of the week, especially in the mornings. It was like swimming in a tank of oil. The daze lightened a little in the afternoons.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been hit by waves of sadness all week. Deep sorrow suddenly came out of nowhere and I found myself crying for no reason at all. I was especially vulnerable in the mornings and balled my eyes out while making my sandwiches for work and taking a shower. It was like the weight of the world was resting upon my shoulders and I felt like I just could not make it. I kept on going anyway, knowing that God was going to carry me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I began having complex partial seizures on Monday. They were pretty unpleasant, but short- anywhere from 10 seconds to 1 minute. Then came Thursday. On Thursday I had 2 heavy complex partials that lasted about 20 minutes each! They weren't quite bad enough that I had to go to the floor, which was good since I was on foot in town when I had one of them, but my consciousness was pretty badly affected and I had nausea. I was suffering and felt despair and it seemed like it would never stop. It just kept going and kept going and kept going. Those seizures left me thoroughly exhausted. I had one more seizure late Thursday afternoon, but it only lasted about 3 minutes and wasn't quite as heavy as the other two. In the end I took off work 45 minutes early and went home. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One other thing is maybe worth mentioning, but I have to back up to Wednesday to talk about it. One of my charges is causing major stress at the moment, and we're talking about the kind of personality where when the person has gotten something into their head there is nothing in this world that you can do or say that will get it out of their head again. I had to see that person on Wednesday, and at the same time the epileptic daze and emotional storm climaxed on Wednesday! There I was, immersed in a world of suffering, and that person hit me with a brutal wave of aggression over falsely drawn conclusions, and had surrounded himself by a wall of granite that barred all reason. I felt aggression rising within me as well. A mighty wave of aggression. My spirit wanted to go into full battle mode and wipe the person out! I wanted to rip and tear and shred! But I know full well not to do that. I know never to react in that condition. I ended the meeting as soon as possible. I was praying about it as I got on my bike, just telling God he was going to have to take care of that person because the person wouldn't listen to me, and I think I heard God's still, small voice telling me that it had been good not to react much to what the person had said, in other words to just let the person get it all off their chest. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When it comes right down to it, if God were to hold me accountable for every wrong word I've ever said or will say in the future I would be in a lot of trouble! So would it be right for me to hold the person I'm writing about accountable? That person did me wrong, but I myself have also done many people wrong and will likely do it again, so I am no better and therefore have no right to judge. </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-62994071281121076562017-03-05T09:53:00.000+01:002017-03-05T09:53:29.795+01:00Epilepsy Update 03 March 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday was a good day 😊</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My head was clear right from the moment I awoke yesterday morning- meaning that the epileptic daze, or that feeling in the brain that I always write about, was only very, very, very light. My heart was peaceful and my spirit easy as I nipped on my first cup of coffee in bed, thanking God for another day and asking him to watch over me and to give me the wisdom to help the people that I had appointments with at work that day. Not everybody reading this may be able to understand that, but I start each and every day that way, giving the day to God and asking for his help and wisdom to help the clients I will be serving on that day, knowing that I don't stand a chance without his help. Anyone who has read this blog knows what condition my brain is in much of the time, how on many days even the simplest things like making sandwiches for work in the morning or crossing the road without getting run over by a car can be a challenge. Yet it's my job to counsel broken people and to help them get back on their feet emotionally and psychologically. How am I to do that when I myself am so terribly sick, when my own brain doesn't work right anymore? Believe me, I can only do that with God's help!</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I go into a counseling session with my brain completely lost in that epileptic daze, and my charge goes away a couple of hours later feeling better and having made a few steps more progress in some area of his or her life, do you want to tell me that it was me who brought that about, me being in such desperate condition myself? That happens day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It can only be God...</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So yes, I give each day to him and ask for his help and wisdom each and every morning as I drink my first cup of coffee in bed. Then I get up and get ready for work, and just trust that he'll do it, no matter what condition my brain is in. I know he'll do it because I've seen it a million times. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-73683243771171995022017-02-27T11:36:00.001+01:002017-02-27T12:04:21.347+01:00Epilepsy Update 27 February 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A part of me is always working in the background to remain calm in the face of threatening anxiety. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Don't believe that nameless, undefinable feeling of dread", are the words that constantly repeat themselves over and over again in my head. "That feeling is only an illusion." </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My mind wanders to the hundreds of people with Epilepsy I've met in blogs and chats who all deal with that same feeling, and I know that what I'm going through isn't anything exceptional, nothing to "worry about", not a sign that there is anything distinctly wrong in my case.</span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am "normal", so to speak...</span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The sign says Uncertainty, established 2008. The end of January 2008 to be exact, when I had my first grand mal seizures out of the clear, blue sky. No prior history, after 48 years of pretty much perfect health. Up till that point I took it for granted that I would be the same when I woke up the next morning as I was when I went to bed the night before. Making plans for the next weekend wasn't a problem either- there was no worry as to how I might be doing when the weekend got there. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All of that changed when uncertainty became established in January of 2008. Now uncertainty rules my life. I never know how my brain will be when I wake up the next day. When friends ask me over on the weekend I cannot say yes with absolute surety, because I cannot know what condition my brain will be in. I could be fine on Friday and barely human when I wake up Saturday morning, or barely human on Friday and fine on Saturday morning. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Also, the beautiful things in life are made uncertain- and even filled with a certain amount of justifiable nervousness. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Take the coming weekend for example. The 2nd of March is my oldest daughter's birthday, and the 4th of March is mine. For years now we have normally come together around that time and celebrated both of our birthdays together in some fashion. That's a beautiful thing, and a thing you look forward to. This time- the coming Saturday- we will gather in Würzburg (where both of my daughters live), they and their boyfriends, as well as some friends of theirs. It is likely that my Conny will not be able to come along, meaning that I will have to take the train to Würzburg. Under normal circumstances I love riding the train, listening to music with my iPhone and bluetooth headphones, looking out the window and watching the scenery go by. I just love travelling. Most of all seeing my girls is one of the most wonderful things on earth. Any parent with adult children knows how important that is after they've grown up and have lives of their own, and you don't get to see them that often anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Enter the uncertainty of Epilepsy...</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I can have no idea how I will be doing when I wake up Saturday morning. It may be good. It may be bad. It may be pure torture. It may be somewhere in between. I have ridden the train before with my brain so lost in that epileptic daze that I looked up at the timetable board and could not process any of it, eventually fighting my way through to the knowledge that I needed to get to track 9, or whatever track the train was leaving from, then standing there until it came to me that the next step was to somehow find that track, and that the first step to that was to look for signs pointing to where the tracks are. Suddenly the fear engulfs me that I might get on the wrong train and end up in Berlin instead of Würzburg and I find myself paralyzed! My brain begins to sizzle. I am nothing but a cauldron of torture inside. </span><span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Automatic processes take over and I begin to calm myself, reminding myself that I just need to go really, really slow, one step at a time, not panic. </span><span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I "come to" and realize that I'm still standing there in front of the timetable board and no closer to the track that I need to get to. I look around and see masses of people moving in every direction and making all kinds of noise in a scene of complete chaos, and feel a sense of despair wanting to wash over me. All of my strength threatens to leave me. It's all I can do not to give up, not to sit down right then and there and just cry. </span><span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Instead I breathe deeply, calm myself as much as possible, gather as much concentration as I can, and find the sign that points to the track number I need. Then I slowly, carefully begin to make my way through the crowd toward that track. I turn the music up in my headphones to drown out everything else around me so that I can focus on my own little world and my one goal in life at that point: find that track! </span><span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Having found the right track, the next step is to make sure it's really the right train that I get on. Once on the train I can finally relax. That is normally when I have a couple of complex partial seizures, when the stress lets off. </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At such times I have then spent the whole day in that Epileptic daze, totally lost and barely able to follow what's going on around me- and trying to hide the fact from my daughters all the while out of embarrassment, burning vast amounts of energy just to stay afloat. When the visit is over that whole thing with finding the right track and getting on the right train begins again...</span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On the other hand I've traveled to Würzburg on the train when my brain was ok and really enjoyed it!</span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is not too often as debilitating as the situation I wrote about above, but there is always the fear that it may happen again, or that I could have a massive complex partial seizure- or even a cluster of them- while on such a trip alone. Still, I will have my rescue medication along. On top of that I live among a very helpful people. I could always find someone who would help me if I were to need it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So what will it be this coming Saturday? Who knows?</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At least nobody could ever claim that life with Epilepsy is boring...</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-43382718703371218832017-02-24T16:40:00.000+01:002017-02-24T16:40:38.679+01:00Epilepsy Update 24 February 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>What a horrifying week it was...</b></span><br />
<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Another monster migraine, and it's still going on as I write this. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Let me start with something positive however. Last week was a pretty good week with only a couple of light complex partial seizures. My old friend the epileptic daze was fairly light as well the whole week- and throughout the weekend too. Come to think of it Monday was a good day too, and I really thought I was in one of those really good phases and began hoping it would last forever. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>But I woke up with a raging migraine on Tuesday morning. I struggle for words to describe how debilitating it was, how horrifying. I felt barely human. Thought was barely possible. I was lost in a thick fog. I stared at the world, yet was not entirely able to grasp what I was seeing. I felt like I weighed a ton. The thought of getting ready and going to work felt like an impossible task, let alone working all day. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>The automatic processes I wrote about in the entry called "Epilepsy and Working" kicked in, and I got out of bed and got going. My body took over and did all the necessary things to get ready for work, while I myself was in a blinding daze- and fighting to keep from getting tied up in knots inwardly. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I spent that entire day on automatic, lost in that blinding daze, sometimes even having vision and motor skills difficulties. I was so exhausted by afternoon that I felt like I was going to collapse on the way home from my last appointment- which had been in town. It was like each and every step took massive effort. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>The migraine was just a little better on Wednesday, but still debilitating. It's stayed at that level since then. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>This is exhausting. I have to be careful too, because there comes a point- after days with a migraine- where my nerves get so shot that I can easily become aggressive- not physically, but I'm in danger of snapping at people in impatience, for example. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I doubt that this is interestingly written, and it's short, but I'm going to quit here...</b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-15430147421844958412017-02-13T16:32:00.000+01:002018-09-13T22:43:21.949+02:00The Forced March<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>Mamma, mamma, can't you see?</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>what the army's done to me?</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>Mamma, mamma, can't you see?</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>what the army's done to me?</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>Woah woah woah woah...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>woah woah woah woah...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>woah woah woah woah...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>woah woah woah woah...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>I used to date a beauty queen...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>now I pack an M16...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>I used to date a beauty queen...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b>now I pack an M16...</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #bf9000;">US Army marching cadence</span> </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>I grew up very tall and very skinny, extremely shy and insecure, afraid of my own shadow. All of the other boys were stronger than me and it was no rare occurrence for me to come home from school bruised and bloody from a beating. I never fought back because I was a complete coward. I dreamed of being strong and tough someday, of growing up to be a real man, no longer a sniveling cry-baby as I was at the time. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Double tragedies in my 15th and 16th years of life left me struggling to make it alone in a city with a population of about 200,000 people. I really tried to make it on my own, going to school during the day and washing dishes at a restaurant at night to pay for the little room I was renting, but it was simply too much for me as traumatized as I was. I finally called an Aunt and Uncle who lived on a farm, and they took me in. They loved me and did their very best to help me but I'm afraid I was already too far gone by that time. I went wild, got into drugs and alcohol, really went off the deep end. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>I realized maybe 4-5 years later that I was in the fast lane to nowhere and that I had to do something to change the course of my life, and do it now. Something drastic.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFUzXOSAQEVBxoNwq47SDmCs1jBocWLJOHjEtBsZbUV_P5vVyylhPUYpD0tQdRLSYgRz2uJoSW0N4IzdqDAZffxlbRF-sqepmn-6o7AKf9N5kwwBfATDGqStBYrrY0irxZ_V4H1xb5fM/s1600/army_seal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFUzXOSAQEVBxoNwq47SDmCs1jBocWLJOHjEtBsZbUV_P5vVyylhPUYpD0tQdRLSYgRz2uJoSW0N4IzdqDAZffxlbRF-sqepmn-6o7AKf9N5kwwBfATDGqStBYrrY0irxZ_V4H1xb5fM/s200/army_seal.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I joined the US Army...</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>I figured that counted as a pretty drastic move for a sniveling coward who'd often come home from school bloodied and beaten, a young man still traumatized by the loss of his family and lost in a world of drugs and alcohol. In the end it turned out to be exactly what I needed. A sniveling coward went in. A man came out. A tough man, strong and true.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>They set up a rhythm right from the very first day in basic training. You get up at 5 am, do PT (physical training), eat breakfast, shower and put your uniform on, then train hard all day. You go to bed at 10 pm every evening, thoroughly exhausted. We had barely fallen into that rhythm when the lights went on at 3 am one morning and the drill sergeants burst into the barracks shouting at us to form up at the foot of our beds. Now anyone reading this who has gone through basic training knows that drill sergeants have a genetic defect: they cannot speak at a volume under 200 decibels. They told us that we had 20 minutes to form up outside in front of the barracks in full combat gear, including M16s and fully packed backpacks. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>When a drill sergeant tells you to do something, </b></span><b style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">you do it...</b><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Believe you me, we were formed up in front of the barracks in full combat gear 20 minutes later, scared to death, having no idea what was about to happen to us. The drills- each company has 2 of them- walked back and forth in front of us berating us, wondering how anyone could ever expect them to make men out of a bunch of wimps like us, how we were nothing but a bunch of mamma's boys who needed to have their butts wiped for them, and all kinds of other stuff like that. Finally they said, "So, ladies, we're going for a walk. You will keep your M16s one hand width from your bodies at all times (the closer to your body, the easier it is to carry). You will not drink without first asking for permission. If anyone needs to relieve themselves they will likewise request permission (in which case the company kept marching and you had to run to catch back up to them after you were finished)" Then came the commands: Right, FACE! Forward, MARCH! And off we went, off the post and out into the boonies. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>We marched, and we marched, and we marched. We marched for hours. At least we didn't have to march in step! They had said we had to ask for permission to take a drink from our canteen? Well, nobody wanted to and we all waited as long as we could before asking after we saw what they did to the first soldier who asked! Sgt. Taylor tore into him as if he'd shot his dog or something! Told him what a wimp he was for wanting a drink already after only 2 hours! Asked him why he even joined the army. Said he should have stayed home where his mamma could give him a warm glass of milk before bed every evening...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>The first soldier stumbled and fell sometime that afternoon. That seemed to destroy everyone else's inhibitions and the whole company- all 40 of us- went down within seconds. Someone began snoring almost immediately.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Sgt. Taylor and Sgt. Bustamonte went nuclear...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Those two drill sergeants ran around with the cords standing out on their necks, their faces red, screaming at us in absolute rage! Whoever did not stand up immediately was not good enough for the US Army and would be dishonorably discharged and would never be able to get a job for the rest of their lives and should not be able to get a job anyway because they were a waste of the air that they breathe and they have been drill sergeants for 15 years and have never seen a bunch of wimps like we were and none of us would ever survive when the bullets started flying and the bombs started going off and did we think the enemies of the United States of America were such pussies that they couldn't handle a little walk in the woods and hopefully the Russians weren't looking down at us with a satellite because we were shaming the entire United States of America and especially the United States Army which has a long proud tradition of tough fighting men who are strong and true and who never give up in the face of hardship and maybe they should radio in for a bus to take us to a girl's boarding school where we could learn to knit socks and host Tupperware parties...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>My life passed before my eyes as I lay there on top of my M16 in the dust, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. I thought of the many beatings I endured throughout the years at school. I thought of my sniveling, cowardly, cry-baby existence up till that time in my life. I thought of my father throwing me to the dogs because his new wife hadn't liked me. Suddenly I felt myself begin to be filled with a slow burning anger, or maybe it was more self-loathing at my own worm-like existence up to that point. After all, I had LET all of those people do all of those things to me. I had never, ever once stood up for myself! I was a weakling. The drill sergeants were right! I was a wimp!!!</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>I began to channel that anger, that self-loathing, and I began to fight. I got my hands under me and began to push with all my might, my whole body aching and trembling. I was exhausted and weak- at the end- but so determined, and I began to growl like an animal, and somehow managed to get to my knees. Others had noticed and were beginning to make their own efforts. Using my rifle for support I began to fight my way to my feet, nauseous and dizzy, growling through gritted teeth all the while. I finally made it to my feet with a final mighty roar and stood there swaying, only then becoming aware of the fact that my fellow soldiers were also standing up all around me, one by one- all of them swaying on their feet as well. And it was amazing! With each one of us that fought his way to his feet, the rest of us stood just a little more firmly. Soon we were all on our feet, standing tall and steady at attention, having discovered a source of strength deep within ourselves that we hadn't even known existed up till that point. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Those drill sergeants? They changed in an instant. They looked at us a little differently, more respectfully in some way, even if they didn't say it. They took up their position and commanded: Forward, MARCH!</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>And you know what? We stepped out with a spring in our steps, chests out and heads held high, for the first time really feeling like soldiers in the United States Army. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>And you know what else? We were back at the barracks about an hour later! We had all given up only an hour from our goal! We hadn't known we were that close. If we had stayed on the ground we would have all been dishonorably discharged and sent home, one hour from the finish line, one hour from success.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>I've never forgotten that lesson. I've never forgotten in hard times, when all seems lost, when it seems like I just can't go on, that I might be only one hour from my goal...</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I'd love to hear any comments anyone may have...</span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-4939851538076893032017-02-11T12:22:00.000+01:002017-02-11T21:48:07.159+01:00Epilepsy Update 11 February 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsOVBp-qpuHuePEPqdbCV4qecOTglDPZ8wetXqFiaYNolL3m2uAAbWFNB_oWoJKPcD4w3KhKCsojNFeObWgK-X9mYzW9miMyuw30TT8jW_3kC0AS_s01VOzRiq1DQaGbgbh9U-u3d3qos/s1600/strange_feeling_.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsOVBp-qpuHuePEPqdbCV4qecOTglDPZ8wetXqFiaYNolL3m2uAAbWFNB_oWoJKPcD4w3KhKCsojNFeObWgK-X9mYzW9miMyuw30TT8jW_3kC0AS_s01VOzRiq1DQaGbgbh9U-u3d3qos/s400/strange_feeling_.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I feel strange...</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In my post from the 4th of February I mentioned that I had woken up one morning with an extremely strange feeling in the brain. That was the 23rd of January and everything has changed since that day. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That strange feeling became weaker the next day but it hasn't gone away anymore since then. It's still there even as I write this. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I may have chosen a bad time to write a blog post because it would seem that a cluster of complex partial seizures has just begun. They are different since the 23rd of January. I need to stop here for a few minutes until this crap ceases. These seizures have become very unpleasant. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I just can't go on right now...</span><br />
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<i style="color: #e06666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Later:</i><br />
<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wrote the above around noon and it's evening now. I only had one seizure after all and not a cluster of them, but it was a pretty hard one and it seemed to last forever. I lay in bed through the whole thing and moaned and wished it would end. I felt weak as a cat during the post-ictal phase and had a pretty bad headache for hours after that. I took a walk much later, thinking the fresh air might help with the headache, but it didn't. It did kind of ease up later though and I even managed to work out a little- which helped my spirit feel a little stronger. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I began explaining earlier today that everything has changed since the 23rd of January, the day I woke up feeling so strange. That feeling has remained, though not nearly as strong. Yet it's always there, sizzling in the background. It seems to be that well-known epileptic daze that I often talk about- only it's different as I've already mentioned. How to describe it? Maybe I could say that it's sharper, more intense in a certain way. Concentration is more difficult. There's like more of a buffer between me and the world. I often forget what I'm doing while I'm doing it too, and that hasn't happened in a long time. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The seizures themselves have changed as well. They're more intense and they're nastier, more unpleasant in some inexplicable way. I am often unable to speak for short periods of time during them. I've been having occasional bouts of nausea since that day too. I've written before that nausea scares me because I associate it with grand mal seizures. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I met one of my charges in town last Thursday afternoon, and it was my last appointment of the day. I began to feel weaker and weaker as I walked home from the appointment and felt a sense of relief as I finally walked around the corner and into our courtyard. I stopped to quickly check the mail, and then a heavy complex partial seizure hit me and I went to my knees- right out there in the courtyard next to the mailbox. I must have knelt out there holding onto the side of the house for 5 minutes or so, hoping nobody would come out and see me like that. Nobody did. As soon as it let up a little I made my way into the apartment on shaky legs. I had another seizure about an hour later, but it wasn't quite as bad. I wasn't of much use for anything for the rest of that evening. I can't even tell you what I did anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is no fun, that's for sure. Sometimes I wonder if it will be this way for the rest of my time here on this earth? Never knowing when the next seizure will hit or how hard it will be? Never leaving the house without my medical bracelet on, my rescue medication and 20,-€ for a taxi with me- just in case? Never knowing how I'll feel the next day but knowing I'll have to go to work anyway- even if it's really bad?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Father in heaven knows where I am and what I'm going through. If he is allowing me to go through this there must be a reason for it. I trust him fully and without reserve. </span><br />
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I would love to read any comments anyone might have...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-34786745949272597712017-02-05T12:12:00.001+01:002017-02-05T12:12:48.376+01:00Epilepsy and Working: 05 February 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I suppose anyone reading my blog might ask themselves how it's possible for me to even work in my condition, so I wanted to discuss that subject a little bit. Let me begin by saying that the days and times that I write about in this blog are often the "highlights", so to speak, that is the worst days I experience. There are many days in between those "highlights". or "lowlights" if you will, on which the Epilepsy is not as incapacitating and can be coped with, with a quiet heart and a few handy tools. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That epileptic daze I so often mention and 2-3 daily seizures are basically a part of daily life. Yet that daze and the seizures are generally maybe one third to one half as strong as on those really devastating days such as I wrote about yesterday- it goes up and down in phases, up and down, over and over again, from maybe one third to one half strength. When a few really devastating days do come I always know at the back of my mind that it's only a bad phase and that I just have to ride it out somehow, some way. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think it's a matter of attitude:</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">First off I believe in God. I believe that he loves me, knows where I am and what I'm going through, and that everything good or bad that happens to me has a purpose- even if I don't understand what that purpose may be. I trust him fully and without reserve. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Secondly I want to work. I want to be independent and provide for myself and Conny, and it is my profession to help people who are in very great need. It is important work and my charges are unbelievably grateful! Seeing broken people slowly getting back on their feet is worth paying any price, isn't it?</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thirdly, my Army training taught me to never give up. I should write a few blog posts about basic training one day. They put us through some really rough stuff in basic training. They pushed us to our limits- both physically and mentally- and then demanded that we go over those limits- way over! Anyone who would not, or could not, was thrown out! Nor did the rough stuff end after basic training. </span><br />
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">No, after that came many</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> other huge challenges where our limits were tested and expanded, such as four weeks in the wilderness at 22 degrees below zero or four weeks in the desert at 115 degrees above zero. You learned to keep on going, no matter what. You learned to get quiet inside and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Never stop, never back up no matter what. Always keep going in the face of hardship. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Concentration and memory are huge problems when you have Epilepsy so I've learned to employ certain tools and developed certain structures to help with that. The director of the institute I work for hands out appointment books to each employee at the beginning of each year, and my appointment book is my surrogate memory/brain. It has an overview of the year at the beginning and one page for each day of the year after that. I have added pages for notes for each of my charges at the back. On top of that I have several mechanical pencils and each one writes a different color, each color having a meaning of its own. That appointment book is central to everything I do and is with me every minute of my work day. I make all appointments with that book open in front of me and everything that is ever talked about is written down immediately in the appropriate color, whether in a meeting, a counseling session, or a phone call. If necessary I ask whoever I'm talking to to repeat whatever they said- in case my brain temporarily zoned out and I missed it, for example. If I have a seizure I simply ask them to please wait a moment. Above all I try and stay calm and accept it, work with it, quietly wait it out. That system has been with me for so long, sits so deep, that it works automatically without me having to think about it. When I need any information at a later time all I have to do is flip back through the book and find it because it's all there, color coded and easily found. On a side note: Keeping a seizure diary is important and I use my appointment book for that as well. Since purple is the official color for Epilepsy I have a mechanical pencil with purple leads and I enter all epileptic activity as it happens each day into that book in purple, capping each day with an appropriate "emoji". That way I can give my neurologist a report at our next appointment simply by flipping back through my book and reading him the purple parts. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On top of that the institute I work for provides me with a smartphone and a flat-rate on everything. All necessary information I may need on anything while on appointments is in that smartphone. I have right temporal lobe Epilepsy, and the right temporal lobe is responsible for things like finding your way, but that smartphone has Google maps and so it leads me around town wherever I need to go. I have a bluetooth headset so that my hands are free when I'm on the phone or being led around town by Google. I also have an app with which I can call up the nearest bus stop and the bus schedule from wherever I happen to be.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I also have a backpack with three big pockets especially for work, and everything I need for work is always in that bag, and only in that bag, never anywhere else. When I need something it's taken out, used, and then put back into its proper pocket immediately afterwards. Same with my keys: they are always either in my pants pocket or on the hook at home. Same with everything I own. Everything has its place and everything is ALWAYS in its place. That all sits so deep that it just takes care of itself. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I use post-its a lot, whether at work or in my private life. I have several laying on my desk, one saying "memory stick" for example. So when I use my memory stick at work I put that post-it up on my monitor when I plug the drive in, then take it down when I pull the drive back out. That way I can't forget it. An example from my private life would be when I turn the heater up in the bathroom to get ready for work in the morning I put a post-it with the word "heat" up in the middle of the mirror so that I remember to turn the heater back down afterwards.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Epilepsy medications have to be taken at the same times every day so I have my intake times set on my iPhone, and it reminds me every day, three times a day to take my pills. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now all of those tools, those aides and structures sit so deep and are so routine that they simply happen automatically, unconsciously on my part, day by day, week by, week, month by month, year by year. So when one of those really devastating days hit me, such as I wrote about yesterday, those things become of utmost importance! I cancel any appointments I can on such days and tell anyone I must interact with that "I'm not quite up to par". I might ask people to speak a little slower, or more quietly, or to repeat themselves more often. I certainly don't get anywhere near as much done and don't consciously remember hardly anything later- but my system prevails and it's all written down in my book for later reference!</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's been three weeks since I've written an Epilepsy update. I did write and post a story about an adventure I had back in the days when I was driving truck long-distance in the USA, desiring to add a little variety to this blog. Writing about those adventures is therapeutic for me as well. It reminds me at a time in my life when I've become so limited and suffer so much that I enjoyed decades of almost perfect health, and I used them to "grab the bull by the horns" and take it for a wild and crazy ride. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I didn't sit in an office somewhere from 9 to 5, day after day, year after year, making phone calls and doing paperwork...</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have some wild memories to think back on- when I can think 😉</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There have been many difficult days over the past three weeks and there have been a few really bad ones. The ones in between I would label as ok since they couldn't really be called good either. The important thing is that I suffered none of those emotional storms. Yes, the normal emotional turmoil that goes with a migraine or a seizure- you can't ask someone not to be emotional about those things- but there were no problems with anxiety or depression. Now I did experience moments of helplessness and despair a few times but I actually began to learn to overcome my macho "show no weakness" mentality in those moments and reach out for support, but more on that in a moment. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Epilepsy counseling center at the University of Würzburg told me some months ago that I should seriously consider reducing my work hours. My neurologist told me at our last appointment that I needed more peace and quiet. Then, sometime around my last entry Conny started in about reducing my work hours as well. I told her I'd compromise by asking my boss if I could work from home on Fridays. You see, I schedule all appointments with my charges from Mondays to Thursdays and reserve Fridays for what office work I do have. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed in my life but I brought it up at our next team meeting. How difficult it was to admit that I'm doing so badly that I need that, especially after walking around trying to act like everything is fine all of the time for years. But do you know what? Nobody thought any less of me! I received nothing but total understanding and support! That was on a Friday and it went to the team leader the next Monday, who was just as understanding and supportive and completely in favor of the idea! She said that she would go to the director with the request that day and would get back to me. Now the thing is that up to that point I'd been dealing with people who all knew already that I have Epilepsy, but I had no idea whether or not the director knew because I'd never personally told him myself. I was nervous about what his reaction would be, and I was really glad that my team leader was going to talk to him about the subject! </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So much for the big cowboy grabbing the bull by the horns...</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was in a counseling session with one of my charges a few hours later when my work smartphone rang, and I let it go to voice mail. When I called it up later I almost had a heart attack when I heard the director's voice on my voice mail asking me to come to his office as soon as I had time...*gulp...</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That was when I called to mind my past life of having</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> grabbed the bull by the horns. "After all you've done and all of the danger you've faced," I asked myself, "You're afraid to go talk to the boss?"</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So I decided to go and get it over with, and you know what? I encountered nothing but complete understanding and support from him! He was very interested in how the illness affects me personally, the medications and their side-effects, and he let me </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">know that my position with the institution is definitely secure, no matter what. We discussed the organizational side of me working at home on Fridays and in the end he authorized it!</span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You wouldn't believe how much of a difference that makes. From 8 am to 2:30 pm every Friday I sit on my couch with my laptop on my lap and my work smartphone on the table, headset on my ear, writing reports and making calls, surrounded by peace and stillness in the warm nest of my own living room, and I get so much work done! Yesterday was the third time and it's such a blessing and an enormous help. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>And it came about because I finally overcame myself and admitted my weakness.</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is turning into a rather long post but please bear with me because I want to touch on those few especially bad days that occurred since my last Epilepsy update. The first one came on a day when I had to pick up a new prescription from my neurologist. You go to the practice and tell the pretty lady at the reception desk what you need and she tells you to take a seat. A few minutes later the doctor comes out, gives you your prescription, and wants to know how you're doing. If necessary he'll make adjustments to your medication right then and there. Now I've said before that something deep within me simply prevents me from showing how I'm really doing, how bad it really is, but on the day I'm talking about now I was doing so horribly that I simply couldn't hide it. I can't even describe how I was feeling. That whole day is only a blur in my memory anyway and I only remember a short period from the whole day. I'd just come from a meeting with one of my charges' parole officer. I don't remember a thing about the meeting itself! It's gone forever. I remember leaving that meeting with a devastating migraine raging in my head and wandering the maybe 300 meters to the neurologist's in a complete daze, experiencing light motor skills difficulties, being hit by two seizures along the way that were heavy enough that I had to stop and hold on to something. I was filled with despair and hopelessness. I felt like I simply could not make it, but struggled on anyway, in misery. When I finally got into the practice and Dr. Vollhardt came out with my prescription he took one look at me and said, "I see all I need to see! We'll talk about it at your next appointment." Somehow I got to the bus station and took the bus to the office. I can't tell you what I did the rest of that day. It's all just a blur of misery. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">On another day I had to make a house call first thing in the morning and had to catch the bus at around 8 am. I woke with a raging migraine and had several seizures while getting ready and one while walking to the bus station. I ended up missing the first bus and had to wait something like 20 minutes for the next one. I was enveloped in an epileptic daze, barely able to think, the mere act of existing costing vast amounts of energy, the thought of having to counsel the person I was about to visit thoroughly unimaginable. On top of that I was having waves of very nasty seizures that lasted 1-2 minutes a piece, each drawing me down into despair and hopelessness. Suddenly I spotted a friend from Iran- and member of the same bible study I'm in, and he came over. All at once I couldn't hold it back and I told him I just couldn't make it and even began to cry a little. He gave me a hug and then began to pray- and that in Persian. After I got on the bus I wrote a text to another person from the bible study and told him how I was doing. It helped enormously knowing that people knew what I was going through and that they cared. I was not alone! <i>And once again I had overcome myself and admitted my weakness</i>, and it had helped. I still can't tell you what I did for the rest of that day- except that I "worked"- because it too is shrouded in an epileptic haze. But I was able to remain much quieter inside through it all because I knew that someone knew what I was going through- and cared. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So let me write about just one more of those especially bad days, and one that really scared me because it conjured up fears of having a grand mal seizure...</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I woke up one morning with a strange, strange, strange feeling in my brain. Now that may sound funny to any non-epileptic who should happen to read my blog since my brain tends to always feel strange. But this was stranger than strange. This was really different. I immediately had to think back to those days on which I had grand mals, about how I woke up with a super strange feeling in the brain on those days. It's been a couple years since the last time so I'm not sure I'd remember exactly how it felt and besides, the character of the seizures I still have nowadays, the complex partial seizures, changes with each adjustment or change in medication so that feeling may not be exactly the same as it was back then either, who knows? Now on top of that feeling I had bouts of nausea all day too and I definitely associate nausea with grand mal seizures, since I have never had nausea at any other time. Now I didn't go overboard, falling into paralyzing fear or anything, but I did get nervous and did kind of watch out where I went and what I did- just in case. I worked all day even though I was feeling that way, even doing some appointments in town. It was a big help knowing that I always have a rescue medication and 20,-€ for a taxi in my wallet, just in case. I also wear an emergency bracelet that says "Epilepsie" on it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That feeling subsided-became less intense- the next day but everything- the migraines, the seizures, and that old, familiar epileptic daze have changed somewhat in their character since that day. I guess you could say they've become even more unpleasant in some way, and the sense of despair and hopelessness that accompany the seizures is much stronger. The seizures make me a lot more tired as well. So I strongly suspect that my brain actually tried to have a grand mal seizure that day, but that the medication stopped it- which is a good thing. Every time something like that happens the Epilepsy as a whole gets a little worse afterwards, and the medication normally has to be adjusted again. I'll see at my next neuro appointment this coming April...</span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-88334539372989836372017-01-28T12:58:00.000+01:002018-10-30T15:58:39.522+01:00The Apaches are alive and well<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yes, the Apaches are alive and well, and they haven't forgotten what the white man did to them.<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">No, not in the least...</span></div>
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I once picked up a load of stereo systems in New York City bound for Chula Vista, California, down on the Mexican border. That's about 3090 miles, or 4980 Kilometers. I had the same problem that I'd had on the trip I wrote about called "A Wild Ride", namely that taking the freeway across the country was the long way, New York being in the Northeast and Chula Vista being in the Southwest corner of the United States.<br />
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Yet once again there was a small, two lane road leading through the wilderness. It connected Interstate 40 to Interstate 10, cutting off maybe 200 miles from the trip. You have to be cautious with an 18-wheeler so I tried to find other drivers who had been that way, but found nobody. I called my company's safety officer and asked if he had any information about that road. He didn't.<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">Well, being alone out in the desert is just my thing. So let's go.</span></div>
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I left the freeway just south of Amarillo, up there in the Texas Panhandle, and headed out into the desert on a lonely, two lane road. I seem to remember it taking me like 24 hours or so to get across that stretch of desert and back on the freeway down south, but it's been too long and I'm not 100% sure anymore. I remember leaving Amarillo sometime in the morning and hitting I-10 in the early morning hours. I saw maybe 3 other cars on that stretch of road, so it wasn't quite as lonely as that other ride that I wrote about here on my blog ("A Wild Ride"). And it wasn't nearly as dangerous either.<br />
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A stretch of that road went through a large gorge, as if God had taken a giant sword when he formed the earth and cut a jagged slash in the desert. Down at the bottom of that gorge ran a wild river with lots of white water rapids. The road either wound along that river on the floor of the gorge, or was like tacked to the rock wall where there wasn't enough room next to <br />
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the river. The whole gorge was lush and green. I drove with my windows down despite the heat because I wanted to feel and smell the country, to be one with it. There was no question of music because there was no radio that far out into the desert. I wanted to be one with the land as much as possible. Riding through there on a horse would have been the best way to be one with the land, of course, but that wasn't possible at that time in my life.<br />
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Interesting! Down in that gorge everything was lush and green, as I said, but a few hundred feet above me the desert floor was barren and forbidding.<br />
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I must admit that in all of my travels through raw, untouched areas of the earth I was always just a touch sad to return to civilization. Being out in the wilds of nature- the real thing as opposed to taking a hike on wood chip trails in a national park- stirs something primeval within the very core of my existence. The raw, untouched wilderness calls to something deep within my soul, and in some inexplicable way it feels like a call to come home...<br />
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At some point, after having left that beautiful gorge hours before, I saw signs of some kind of civilization far off in the distance. The closer I got the more it began to look like a town. It turned out to be an Apache Indian reservation, right in the middle of some of the most forbidding desert a body could imagine.<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">Now we all know that the Indians were not treated well by the white man back in the days. We know that they were almost wiped out. </span></div>
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Yet the whole story of what went on back in the days is never told, and the parts that are told are cut to fit a certain narrative, a narrative that almost paints of picture of peaceful Indians planting flowers and gathering nuts and berries on "their" land, when suddenly a horde of bloodthirsty white men ride into camp and slaughter them all with utmost brutality, simply because they're Indians and because they wanted "their" land.<br />
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So let's start by taking a look at some facts. There are currently some 562 federally recognized Native American Tribes. It is estimated that there were up to 2400 different tribes at the time the first white man set foot upon the continent- before many of them were exterminated by the Spanish and the Portuguese, and many others by the illnesses that Europeans brought with them. While a handful of those tribes did have a kind of primitive sense of land ownership and engaged in farming, most were stone-age hunters and gatherers who had no concept of land ownership and lived by the law of "kill or be killed". The Apaches, for example- as were many other tribes- were roving marauders. Anyone they met anywhere they went who did not belong to their group was an enemy, and hence fair game to be attacked and slaughtered and have their possessions stolen from them. For them that was morally right.<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">Then along came the white man...</span></div>
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The white man brought things with him that the Indian could not make for himself. Wonderful things like rifles and knives made of steel, pots and pans,, sewing needles, and the list goes on. Since survival of the fittest was the only law that the Indians knew they considered it morally right to kill the settlers and take their possessions, that is the things the settlers had that the Indians could not make for themselves.<br />
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There was, for the most part, no such thing as the Indian "defending his land" against an invading white man.<br />
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Another thing: it's become the fashion to call them "Native Americans" but Adam and Eve were the only "natives" to have ever existed in the history of mankind. Ever since then peoples have driven other peoples out from places, only to be driven out themselves by other peoples later, who are then in turn driven out by others. It is an endless cycle. Our "Native Americans" are the first to admit that they came from somewhere else and drove another people out that had been there before them. <br />
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So back to the Indian reservation in the middle of the New Mexican desert.<br />
The sign said Mescalero Apaches. Now the Mescaleros were some of the toughest of the Apache tribes, and it's no wonder that they were. They lived a hard life in a hard, unforgiving land, moving back and forth with the seasons- in rather small groups- from Canada to Mexico, and living off the land all the while. Those were hard men, tough men. They had to be excellent hunters to provide for their families in country where game was scarce- and very dangerous. They had to be mighty warriors in order to defend their families in a land where everyone but the members of your little group was an enemy who wanted to kill you and take everything you had- including your women and children. Those were people who were born and raised, and lived their whole lives in the desert, without any modern conveniences, and their world was filled with violence and danger long before the white man set foot upon their shores.<br />
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The visions we have of them today have all been conjured up by soft, plump people sitting on their couches eating a bag of chips. People who just about have a nervous breakdown when someone says something a little bit mean to them!<br />
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Being that they had such a hard life and had to be so tough, the Apaches had a few neat "tricks" they liked to "play" when they caught a prisoner in order to test whether he was a real man or not- and it did not matter if it was a white man or another Indian that they had captured. They would strip him naked and tie him down, spread-eagle, to four posts they had driven into the ground- and that next to a fire ant hole. Now getting bitten by a fire ant, or even several, hurts very badly but is not life-threatening, but getting bitten by hundreds of fire ants is deadly, and it's an extremely painful way to die. So they would tie their prisoner naked and spread-eagle next to a fire ant hole, and spread something to attract the ants all over his body. Then the whole tribe, including women and children, would sit down all around him and watch the show! If the man died bravely without uttering a sound he was buried with honors. If he died screaming and making a fuss they'd cut his body in pieces and spread the pieces all over the desert, and maybe even urinate on them to show their contempt for him!<br />
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Now the Apaches don't do things like that anymore, of course, so I wasn't worried as I drove into that reservation in that big Kenworth Anteater that day. All I could think of was the growling in my stomach. I was so hungry that my stomach was almost convinced that someone had cut my throat! Lo and behold, what did I see there in the middle of that reservation? A restaurant. "I wonder what Apaches eat?", I thought to myself. "Well, I guess I'll go in and find out."<br />
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I pulled that 18-wheeler off to the side next to that restaurant and pulled the brakes, hearing the gush of escaping air all around the truck, and seeing the little puffs of dust whip up from under the truck reflected in the side mirrors. I could see five young Indian braves sitting at a table inside the restaurant, watching me intently through the window, but I didn't really think about it much. I stepped out of that truck in my snakeskin cowboy boots and big black cowboy hat- the epitome of all that those Indians hated- and went on into that restaurant, still curious as to what they would have on the menu. It turned out that they served mostly Mexican food. Now those five Indian braves watched my every move as I walked into that place and found a table. A beautiful young Indian woman with long black hair and the most fascinating, deep, dark eyes came to the table to take my order. I ordered a pitcher of ice tea and a burrito.- and told her to make the burrito nice and spicy hot. I like my food really spicy hot, and I can take a lot of it, believe me. One of those braves got up and followed her as she went off with my order, but I didn't think much of it. I thought maybe the bathroom was off that way or something.<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">Later, much later, I realized that he must have followed her and had a word with the cook...</span></div>
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I ignored all that was going on around me, eased my chrome-plated 380-automatic to a more comfortable position behind my belt, pulled a Louis L'Amour book out of my pocket, and began to read.<br />
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The waitress brought my burrito sometime later, and man did it look good. I was so hungry! I took that fork and knife in my hands, cut off a bite-sized piece and went to put it in my mouth, when I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye- over there where those five men were sitting. They had stopped talking and were all watching me intently as I was getting ready to take that first bite! Now what in the world...???<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">I knew what was up the moment I put that first bite in my mouth...</span></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">I thought a bomb had gone off in my mouth!!!</span></div>
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I don't know what they put in that burrito but it was pure, unadulterated fire. I immediately broke out into a sweat and it seemed like fire consumed my entire body in an instant- and those men watched with intense interest every second. Visions of that naked man tied to those posts next to the fire ant hole in the desert danced in my head as I desperately fought not to let the pain I was feeling show. I was determined not to give them the satisfaction! It took me a long, long time, and I ended up drinking two gallons of ice tea, but I ate that whole thing, and I think I did a good job of not letting the pain show. Well, I must admit that my taste buds, along with all the nerves in my mouth, my throat, my stomach, and likely my whole body, became completely numb after about four or five bites.<br />
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Those Indian braves? They got bored pretty quickly after they realized that I wasn't going to break down and cry or anything, and went back to their conversation. When the waitress came back to get my plate and asked how my food had been, I told her (as best I could talk) that that had been one of the best burritos I had ever eaten, except for the fact that it could have been a little hotter...<br />
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I got back in my truck in a lot of pain but feeling like a real man, let off the brakes, pulled onto the road, and drove back out into the desert. Sometime in the early morning hours I reached the freeway, and was somewhere in the deserts of Arizona when the sun came up the next morning. Suddenly I felt a really funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. That feeling quickly began to spread, soon encompassing my entire body. I knew I had go, and I had to go now! I jacked that wheel around and pulled off the road emergency style, grabbed the roll of toilet paper that every truck driver has stashed in his truck- just in case- and away I ran out into the desert, limping and squeezing my butt cheeks as hard as I could, trying to get somewhere as hidden from the road as possible. I finally got behind a big rock and just barely got everything open and pulled down and it went "BOOM". There I was, half bent over, dripping with sweat, burning with almost unbearable fire at one end. I half turned and looked behind me and couldn't believe what I saw: the desert behind me was totally covered for about two meters...<br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;">It wouldn't surprise me if nothing grows there to this day, and I'm willing to bet that animals still make a wide detour around that spot...</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-16402877261393291952017-01-14T11:31:00.003+01:002017-01-29T09:51:41.187+01:00Epilepsy Update 14 January 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, the first week after my vacation has passed and I'm already back into the routine again. </span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I left home for work last Monday without really having recuperated during the three weeks I'd had off over the Christmas and New Year's holidays- anyone who reads the entries I wrote during that time will understand why. Yet I walked out the door with a good attitude nonetheless, ready to make the best of it and do the best job I could. After all, that is simply my life and I have to deal with it. So as I write about the week in the following lines I'm not whining about it, but rather simply reporting what my Epilepsy did in a sober and emotionless way. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It might be app</span></span><span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">ropriate to call last week "Seizure week", since I had many more complex partial seizures than usual, they were generally a little longer than they usually are, and they were unusually heavy and unpleasant. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Monday:</b> I had two house calls to make first thing in the morning. One complex partial, lasting only about 30 seconds, came before the first house call and I had two more between the first and second house calls. The Epilepsy was pretty quiet the rest of the day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Tuesday:</b> The fireworks really got going on Tuesday. I got hit by five complex partial seizures before I even left home for work in the morning, each of them worse than usual and lasting up to two minutes. One seizure would subside and I'd have a few minutes of rest, then the next one would start. That went on for an hour or so while I tried to shower, make sandwiches, and pack my backpack for work. Each time you have to stop and wait until the seizure ends, all the while knowing that you have to leave for work very soon and don't have time for this crap. The world around you looks and feels strange. You know you should be doing something but are not quite sure what. It's there at the edge of your consciousness, but you can't quite grasp it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The seizures stopped after the fifth one, leaving me tired and with a migraine. I finally managed to be ready and left for work, arriving about ten minutes late. Now, I don't ride my bike in January or February, but rather walk, and the migraine calmed down quite a bit as I walked to work. I had been at work for about fifty minutes when another CPS cluster began: A complex partial seizure- 2-3 minutes long- a few minutes of rest, then the next seizure, a few minutes of rest, then the next one, over and over again for an hour or so. It went on that way for the rest of the day, with breaks of maybe two hours between each cluster.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Wednesday:</b> I woke up with a migraine, maybe one third power. Around noon the migraine weakened somewhat and a cluster of about six or seven complex partial seizures hit me, the cluster lasting maybe ninety minutes or so. Then the migraine returned, but there was no more seizure activity that day. I was very tired from the seizures and the migraine was a little worse than it had been before. I felt a sense of relief when I learned that Wednesday bible study fell out that evening, and at the same time felt a little guilty for feeling relieved. But I was sooo tired... </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Thursday:</b> I woke with a raging migraine. I had barely gotten out of bed when the first seizure of the day hit me, and I had one seizure after another up until around eleven am. After that I was very tired and that raging migraine stayed with me for the rest of the day. Another CPS cluster hit me in the evening after work. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Friday:</b> I woke up with the migraine still going, but a lot weaker. I had back to back seizures a short time after arriving at work, each about two minutes long, then only one very short ten second one later in the day. Other than that the migraine continued, albeit a lot weaker than the day before. Fridays are shorter work days and I took a nap after I got home. The migraine was almost gone after I woke up from that nap. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'd like to reiterate a couple of things about the seizures themselves. The seizures I have, the complex partials- or CPS, are much, much weaker than they would be if I were not taking the medication. I was not able to stay on my feet when I had a seizure before I began taking the medication, but went to the ground every time- sometimes even losing consciousness. Every once in a while a complex partial even went over into a grand mal seizure. I wouldn't be able to work if I weren't taking the medications. I'm not even sure I'd be able to live alone or go anywhere alone since I'd be completely helpless during a seizure. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Indeed I do have an occasional "Breakthrough seizure" meaning that a really bad CPS gets through the medication and I do go to the ground- well actually I always have several in a row. In those cases I am totally helpless during- and after- the seizures. Each time my medication has to be increased as a result. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
</span><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been blessed so far in that someone has always been with me when I've had incapacitating seizures, but lately I've begun to realize that maybe I'm a little careless, and to wonder what I would do if that were to ever happen when I was alone. I walk or ride my bike all over town, for example, all alone, and suddenly it becomes clear to me that it's possible that I could be hit by a breakthrough seizure- or a cluster of them- anytime, anywhere. You never know. It hits you out of nowhere, without warning. What if I were at </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">the mall, for example? What about in the evenings at home? What if I was in the shower? What if it got so bad that I had to call an ambulance but couldn't get to the door to let them in by the time they got there? Or had a grand mal and seriously bashed my head in? Well, I have a rescue medication in my wallet at all times that I'm supposed to take before it gets that far. I couldn't take it in town though because it shuts you down. I'd have to take a taxi home first.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">No panic. Those breakthrough things don't happen often- I guess I just need to be better prepared mentally, just in case.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>I would love to hear any thoughts, comments, or suggestions anyone might have! Please feel free to comment!</i></b></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-80347269673732484472017-01-08T12:18:00.002+01:002018-10-29T10:56:40.704+01:00Epilepsy Update 08 January 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today is officially my last day of vacation...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You always hear Germans say the same thing after every vacation when you ask them how it was. "Too short," is what they'll say every time. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't remember ever having said that myself, but I could this time. The tension and anxiety and exhaustion that have held me in their vice grip since the last big seizure at the beginning of November barely began letting go last Wednesday evening, and first got to the point where my batteries actually began to re-charge just the day before yesterday. The four unpleasant, heavier than usual seizures that I had on Friday gave testimony to the fact that I was finally beginning to come down- you know, heavier seizures often come when the stress lets go. So now, at the very end of my vacation, I finally find myself at the point where I can begin to rejuvenate and gather strength for the next stretch of work. If I had another week...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>But I don't have another week, and that's just the way it is.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So I should just be thankful for what little R&R I was able to find over the last couple of days. Thankful for the fact that my heart has quieted down at least a touch and that I'm at least a little more balanced inside. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm thankful that I was able to get a good workout rhythm going again over the last three weeks- despite all the trouble, and that I even built up a little despite feeling so bad. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm thankful for the few hours that I still have left- meaning the rest of today. Conny and I are going to the sauna in a little while and that is a place where I can almost always find inner calm and rest.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tomorrow I'll get up and go to work as usual, without a fuss, as calmly and peacefully as possible, and be as positive as I can. I'm going to make the best of it. What choice do I have? Well, I do have a choice! I can quit anytime I like! Nobody is making me go to work. Many Epileptics don't work. I could go on disability or welfare, or whatever.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to remind myself that I don't have to work. I want to work...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I still have like five days of vacation left over from 2016 that need to be taken by the end of March and I plan on spreading them out over the coming weekends, in other words giving myself five three-day weekends between now and the end of March. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm going to try and find ways to make better use of my free-time in the future (like more reading-less YouTube), and try and optimize my sleeping rhythm. At the same time I'll work on optimizing my working conditions even more than I already have, like trying to arrange to work at home on Fridays, for example. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So it's back to work tomorrow. No sense crying about it. No sense mourning about it. That's the way it is. That's life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Get over it...</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3670042202680915011.post-83473040753079169742017-01-04T11:33:00.000+01:002017-01-04T11:33:01.555+01:00Epilepsy Update 04 January 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>There is a "Facebook" for people with Epilepsy. It's called "My Epilepsy Team". There are people from all over the world on that site. I've been a member for a couple of years and have really learned a lot from the other members. You meet people who are doing better than you, and people who are doing worse than you. In truth, it would seem as if a great number of the epileptics on that site are not even able to work at all. Many cannot even shower or bathe alone. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>There are always those individuals who constantly write about staying positive, having Epilepsy but not letting Epilepsy have you, living life to the fullest despite the disorder, and at least a dozen other super-smart sayings. When you look at their profiles however you see that they have very light cases of Epilepsy and that their seizures are under control through medication- and that they don't even have to take much medication either. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I logged on to the site yesterday for the first time in many, many months and re-discovered something interesting. Those anxiety attacks that I so often write about are a normal part of pretty much all epileptic's lives, excepting those light cases that is. What's more, it makes no difference whatsoever which medication they take. It's the same with bouts of depression. </b></span><b style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A great many of them take anti-depressants or tranquilizers for those conditions. Some even have a fast-acting rescue tranquilizer against anxiety attacks with them at all times in case they have one while underway! It seems like very few of them even attempt to try and cope with those things by any other means, like reflection and self-control, or prayer and trying to depend on God. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Many complain that they are surrounded by people who don't understand what they're going through, who think they're just being big babies. The people saying that can't understand how it is to have this thing draining you every waking moment of every day of your life, making everything you do much, much more difficult and strenuous. They often hear, "Just stop acting like a baby and feeling sorry for yourself!" </b></span><br />
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<b style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reading about them makes me "feel a little better" because it shows me that I'm not the only one, that I'm not especially weak in some way for having these anxiety attacks or these bouts of depression, but that they go with the territory. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Conny brought up the subject of my career again yesterday, being concerned as she is about how my condition seems to be progressively worsening over time. She'd really like to see me reduce my work hours, like maybe going down to working four instead of five days per week, dropping Fridays, for example, which are only six hours anyway. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>Everything in me screams, "NO!!!" when I even think about reducing work hours, or changing anything at all as pertains to my job. I have an absolute dream job! My job fits my talents perfectly and I'm convinced it was given to me by God himself, and the work itself is as much fun as anything can be when you're doing it all messed up by Epilepsy. My employer holds me in very high esteem and gives me absolute freedom with the project he has assigned me to. I work almost totally unsupervised and can do much to schedule everything to best fit my condition. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>I don't know if the director of the company- the big boss- even knows that I've got Epilepsy. My team leader knows, but I've never had occasion to tell the big boss- I hardly ever see him. If I wanted to reduce my hours I'd have to talk to him about it, and the thought scares me to death! I have no idea what would happen to my career if I did. The last thing I want to do is to arouse the impression that I'm having trouble doing my job (even if it is the truth).</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>That talk with Conny gave me one idea though: I normally try and reserve Fridays for office work- no outside appointments or appointments with clients. So maybe I could talk to the boss about working from home on Fridays? At least that wouldn't be asking to work less, and it wouldn't mean earning less either. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: lime; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>It's a good thing that I have Conny because I'd probably give up and go on disability or something right now if I didn't! Both of my daughters are grown up and don't need me anymore, so providing for Conny is what keeps me working full-time and being so adamant about protecting my job, to maintain the standard of living that she's accustomed to. I myself could be happy with very little. For her I want to keep working as much as I can for as long as I can.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0