Today was bad. After a rough weekend filled with stressful activities all around me, I looked forward to a slow day today. It was, after a fashion. At about 13:00 I decided to make myself a couple of hamburgers. I no longer cook often save for those things that can be prepared in the microwave. I found some frozen beef patties, thawed them in the microwave and put them in the skillet to cook. I added a dash of garlic, some worchestershire and even grilled some onions in the pan. I even went so far as to add a sprinkle of cheese and to transfer these to buns before things got disastrous. I had a violent seizure, threw the frying pan, took a header to the kitchen floor, and generally made a mess of myself. I'll spare you the details, but I sprained, strained, and pulled every muscle, joint, ligament, and scrap of connective tissue in my body.
The aftermath necessitated a shower. I spent the next three hours trying to recover my composure. Not many things genuinely upset me, though I have been both irritable and rather tense of late. This seizure left me a wreck for hours. I lay about trying not to hurt and trying not to think. I don't want this to be the rest of my life. The idea of these violent episodes sprinkled throughout the mundanity of my life is horrifying to me.
Of course, the universe had not had it's fill of jests at my expense at that point. Late in the afternoon, as I lay in the infamous chaise de coma trying to comfort my aches and pains I had another seizure almost as violent as the earlier one. A change of clothes later and a quiet crying jag found me back on the chaise disconsolate and utterly miserable. I took a couple of pain pills, hoping it would put me to sleep. Two 500mg hydrocodone should have been enough to send an elephant to slumberland. It didn't so much as dull my aches, much less make me sleepy. So here I am, headed toward midnight, aching and acheronian in mood with no sign of relief in sight. What I would give for a good night's sleep