This is not just the kind of self examination where you sit down, maybe look at yourself in the mirror, and find all the little things you know you should be ashamed of. Rather, next week, weather permitting, we will be packing up our travel hear and hitting the road to the Denver area in order to take a in-depth look into the current state of Matt’s Darn Brain (henceforth known as MDB).
When the seizures started last March I was told that there was a neuroma located in the right hemisphere of my brain. I guess this could mean just about anything from “oh well, there is a small bundle of harmless nerve tissue in MDB” to “of fuck, there is a small bundle of nerve tissue in MDB.” We’ll see.
Some time recently I was at the bank. Perhaps its better to say that I woke up at the bank. I had gone there to see my lawyer about the Long Term Disability claim. Her office is above the bank. She had stepped out of her office so I went down stairs to get some cash from the ATM. Sometime later I “woke up” — or at least became aware — at a counter down the hall from the machine. This particular event was troubling because I’ve been experiencing an increase in dizzy-spells and moments where I lose conscience. When I woke up from this one I must have been there for a while, or at least that’s what it felt like. I’m not always aware of these moments, but in this case it was apparent. Based on conversations with my shrink these are partial complex seizures and my medications don’t seem to be controlling them any more.
I am at once eager and miserably unenthusiastic about this doctor visit. How many more things am I going to be told not to do? Is there a malignant tumor in my head? Will I die? I’m already wrung dispassionate, I don’t think I can cry about this or feel any more loss. Isn’t this bottom or is there more distance to descend?