Archive for September, 2008

I wish I had a life

Saturday, September 20th, 2008

I went to bed just before dawn this morning.

Later, I dreamt I did something like a vacation–during my vacation. At first, I was skiing, a kind of very short, very steep hill, over and over again. Then I switched to a sort of water park. I was part of a group, like a few friends. I had my camera, and I went into the wave attraction, a kind of downhill alleyway and they generated a big wall of water uphill from the people, and it crashed down on them and everybody screamed and splashed. Somehow they could make the water drain away instantly, and in my dream, they were not operating it properly. I had positioned myself at the end of the alley so I could get photos of people being overwhelmed by the waves. But the waves all dissipated before anyone got really wet. Plus my camera started malfunctioning, not focusing, and the shutter not working.

It all became so frustrating, I woke up. At around 4:00 PM.

Yesterday, I left the house briefly. But pretty quickly I started having that ‘focal seizure’ activity in which lights, and sensory input in general, becomes very irritating, and I start feeling very unstable. Sometimes I can endure the instability, and avoid having a seizure by blocking out stimuli. Sometimes I can’t. So I came home.

Right now I have to decide whether I will go to the pharmacy or not. And then to the supermarket. But sitting home doing almost nothing seems to be all I can manage right now. This is the way it goes with me and seizures; I go through some periods lasting several weeks of being profoundly unstable. Then I go a year or two being fine.

I guess I have a life. It’s just not exactly the one I want.

movie me

Thursday, September 18th, 2008

These are the links to the latest movies derived from each cam’s images:

I am still working out how each one is triggered, but the idea is that a movie is uploaded everytime movement stops for 10 seconds or more. We’ll see how it works.

update, stable again

Tuesday, September 16th, 2008

I will leave the images below live for now, but the focal seizure activity has subsided (with the Ativan) and relative tranquility prevails in my brain right now. Will sleep soon.

If you see me laying on the floor for a long time, call Lynne (she has a copy of my keys.) But I think I will be fine tonight. Thanks.

seizure prone again, Monday night

Monday, September 15th, 2008

Presiezure activity starting late afternoon after putting leftovers into stove to heat up.

Finally, to abort, or to at least ameliorate a potential seizure,
at 6:59 PM I take 2 tabs, 1.0 mg each, of Ativan.

Only mild relief as of 7:40 PM. Add another 1.0 mg Ativan.

At 8:00 PM feel stable enough to nibble at supper which was heating, stove is now off. No more coffee. (4-5 cups since 1:00 PM; normal amount for me.)

9:03 PM: Set up web cams live in spots where I should be visible.

Live seizure cam

Matter-full things

Tuesday, September 9th, 2008

When was I supposed to say goodbye? Sometime before I forgot about you, of course. And preferably sometime after you’d forgotten about me.

But if I had to wait until the former, then I’d be right where I am, never having said goodbye, still remembering you. And if I had to wait until the latter, why then say goodbye at all?

I am not inhumane. I may be inconsiderate. I know I am quite selfish. I may still be a child.

But when, exactly, is the end? And how am I to know? When to cry. When to move on. When to run. And when to give up. Until the end, what do I do instead?

Even of the things which have answers readily available, I am too lazy to find them out. As for finding answers to these matter-full things, well, simply contemplating such a monumental effort just knocks me breathless. Besides, where would I begin to look?

Maybe I have never been in love. But, at least several times I thought I was. Maybe I was only in fear, never love. And maybe I chose impossible objects for my affection, beautiful young things in a league so far from me that I could safely count on never being met in my passions by the other. Maybe I wanted to be sure that he would never confront me on the ground of my own heart. Or maybe it was I that feared to tread on the ground of his.

He–the many of them who were each ‘the one’ from time to time–is now gone. And never once, I think, did I say goodbye. And just now something smacks here of dishonesty. ‘Gone’ is not exactly true; almost all are still somewhere. Only one has died. And ‘not here’ is subjective in every case, even death.

And it doesn’t matter if I play games with place, chasing objects too far to reach, and running from all that would come close. All that means is that I am terrified, and lonely, like a million others. But it doesn’t give me an answer.

When was I supposed to say goodbye?