So I was on my way back from a lovely trip to San Diego…waiting in the airport lounge for my plane’s departure. My head hurt and the confusion hit–when was it leaving? Should I be boarding. BLam! No dice lady…you are relegated to territory previously unexplored by your little body.

So yeah, I was supposed to be on the plane going somewhere else and suddenly I am in the back of an ambulance going somewhere I didn’t know, not knowing who I was and unable to recall basic details like my name, what I was doing, etc. Within a few hours I had figured it out (after they stripped me down out of my shitty pants and checked to see my tongue was still attached).

Seizure territory is something I guess I should have been familiar with, at least in theory, because I had one in surgery. They never told me what it would entail in terms of what would happen, the signs to watch out for, because in my loopy little head, things had been going awry all week. I would have avoided that plane at all costs if I knew. The toll that the lack of sleep and working 16-18 hours a day for two months on little food almost seized me into stroke land. They went through my bags (I wear no medical id, whoops!) and found my medicine and my cell phone, called my mother and started the unfun process of sending me to the hospital. My mother did not know I was visiting my birth father (I forgot to tell all of you, too!) so it was not so nice explaining to her why I was clear on the other coast. Keep in mind I had spoken to her at various points during my trip as she was looking for cheap hotel rooms and told her I had some “days off”. Yeah, so she knows now, though gets real angry when I say “father”, no matter what it is preceded by. This morning when I was speaking to her she told me I had to tell her if I was going anywhere else (I am, in October, for a wedding for my sister on the birth mother’s side). I don’t like playing those games because they always end up with me making everyone mad.

Regardless of all of that garbage, I am here. I got an extra week of rest since the neurologist and cardiologist got together and decided it was best if I chilled out and not stress out about anything. Two weeks of vacation? Goodness. I believe these types of vacation are only enjoyed when I am surgically out on leave. Beyond that, two weeks in a row? High School, my friends.

E is coming to get me Sunday and flies back with me into Newark on Monday. Things are going so well for him I feel bad about bothering him with this, but whatever. This little impediment is a sign my neurologist said, that I cannot do that crazy full time school work thing because my body and brain are ill-wired to handle the stress. So I am going to see about A class or TWO classes max until they can register whether or not I can do it all. UGh. To think I was going to do two full time jobs and a full load of classes. If I hadn’t stroked out, I probably could, but that’s the way it goes I guess.

Sunny Southern California. I am going to be doing this one day. 75 degrees no humidity perfect weather no clouds every single day? Could I ask for anything more? I think not. I will be checking options at Stanford and some other schools (Stanford is better for writing anyhow). I have family here. And they like me, and they want to help me. I am shocked too. Trust me.

But maybe things are finally looking up for me. Just maybe.