February 11th, 2007

nerd heart: epsilon greater than


First, it's that time of year again. I don't celebrate Valoween, but I do celebrate ego-boosting saying nice things about others. So go here to get svmadelyn's email address, and spread the ego-boosting. Go. Now.

Now, on to other things. I'm working on that résumé. Yay for résumé wizards of the fill-in-the-blank variety. I just need to finish my objective, put in a description of my LA experience, and fill in the "awards and honors" section so I look special. Who knew that writing a one sentence objective would be so hard?

Last night, though, something funny happened. Now, for those who don't already know, I have seizures. Not regularly anymore, but they do happen. I was drying off in the shower last night when I got a foot cramp--one of those annoying foot cramps that I find best to stand directly on in order to get rid of. I doubt the two events were related, but I was concentrating on the cramp and continuing to dry off when I started to feel dizzy. I didn't want to stand up anymore, much less dry my body; I wanted to lie down and let the dizziness settle down before going away.

I knew what was happening, even though it hadn't happened in a year. I've had seizures in a shower before; in fact the aftermath led to my writing in an ambulance. Let me tell you; what seems like a reasonably sized place is suddenly confining when your body's flailing all over the place. So I concentrated on drying my body instead of the sudden vertigo that had just hit me as an effort to reach my room sooner where I could collapse into bed the first chance I got. And I did, after writing an entry, talking to people, taking my medicine (which I forgot to take yesterday morning--oops), and clearing my bed. Sure enough, I fell into a state of stupor almost immediately.

If you're wondering, I was fine. But when you're in that state, all that matters is the moment, and you're not thinking about much else.

My family rarely admits to my seizures. They usually keep it under wraps unless forced to admit it, like on the "medical" section of papers that high school teachers would send home. When we have to talk about it to other people in the family, they used forms of "that thing that happens to Sujin", to which I reply, "Just call them what they are, okay? Seizures. There, that wasn't too bad, was it?" If I were younger when I started having seizures, it would have been a great way to make me afraid of them.

Then again, we tend to fear what we don't know about. They didn't know anything about seizures--after all, I'm the first person in the family to have them. (Well, I think a very distant relative I've never met had them as well. For these purposes he doesn't count, though.) So they shuffle around the term, as if it's something to be feared, as if people will shun me if they find out.

Sure, there's the social stigma. But when I tell people--usually in a matter-of-fact way on why I don't drive or to people I'm close to (it's a good thing Shea found out last year before I had that seizure in the middle of the night last year, for instance)--they usually don't freak out. See, people aren't that bad. Really. It helps that otherwise I'm a passionate, caring, and, well, nice person (or so I like to think), and most people see this over my medical situation. This, I believe, shows humanity. We're not all that bad. Really.