I’ve been expecting it. I just didn’t know when it would happen. I went for my follow up appointment with my doctor and he said it’s time to take me off of my old seizure meds completely. I’ve been absorbing the stuff for years, so of course my body is not happy. By Friday, I was a hot mess.
If you have ever seen the movie Momento, you will have a small understanding of what having a seizure is like. The really hard part for me is that there is rarely anyone around when I have one because they happen most often at night. I will behave irrationally before hand if I am awake or wake up feeling dazed and confused.
You know (maybe you don’t if you are younger) when you are playing a record and it get’s stuck? It’s a bit like that. What ever was on my mind last, who ever I had texted last or talked with last, are the one’s I get stuck on. The most I remember before hand is usually this feeling of the world caving in, or shrinking down to a pin point. It’s not just a visual, but it seems as if the whole world outside of me has ceased to exist. Time has ceased to exist except for those few hours beforehand. If I don’t hold onto those tenuous ties, I think I might cease to exist. Afterward I find these little memento’s I have left, these calls for help; irrational and childish as if I have reverted to the vocabulary of a one year old. The real problem with explaining this to anyone who was not there to see it is that I don’t really remember what actually happened.
I definitely had a seizure on Saturday, but luckily my tenant was home, although I didn’t realize it until after ward. It was somehow comforting to hear someone tell me that I was stumbling, stuttering, crying, shaking and then I checked out. It made it seem real. It made me feel not crazy. It must have been easier for him too, to be able to see for himself and not just have to wonder why I was suddenly behaving so strangely. My tenant also happens to be a pharmacist, he understands what meds do and he sat calmly next to me. “I could clearly see by looking at you that it was something physical that was happening to you,” he said. “I didn’t know exactly what you needed personally, but I’m here to help.” That was really all I needed to hear.
It left me with a headache worse that the coldest ice-cream brain freeze ever. It’s funny, sometimes when I have a seizure I smell things that aren’t there. It’s really too bad it couldn’t fuck with my taste neurons and give me a little chocolate to go along with that brain freeze.
One thing I can be sure always makes me feel better about almost anything is ice cream:
Infamous creators of the Sex Bomb and Baby Googoo – The Icecreamists are passionate about ice cream and the business of sin.
The Icecreamists have enjoyed a meteoric rise cold-fused with controversy. These attention-seeking provocateurs have reinvented ice cream as vice cream, a pop culture medium laced with incendiary flavours. Their creations consistently whip up public outrage, from the ice cream the Sex Pistols tried to ban (The Sex Bomb made with sub-zero Stimulants and Absinthe), to the world s first breast milk ice cream (Baby GooGoo, which incurred the storm in a D-cup wrah of pop-megastar Lady Gaga).
Yet beneath the hype is a narrative that stretches from the decaying Kentish seaside towns of Margate and Broadstairs to New York and the Italian Riviera. Underpinned by a heart-felt, obsessive love of traditional Italian gelato, The Icecreamists have twisted and subverted Italian traditions with cocktail culture, a shock and roll lick or let die ethos, to create some of the most decadent and pioneering ice creams on mother earth.
In their forthcoming book, The Icecreamists reveal the craft behind the headlines. Lick your addiction to the fabulous and the frozen in the comfort of your kitchen, with melt-in-your-mouth boutique ice creams, vice creams and other guilty pleasures. Closely guarded recipes are revealed here for the first time in simple, easily lickable recipe formats that will enable you to recreate the authentic Icecreamists experience at home as conservatively, or as outrageously as you desire. God save the cream!
The Icecreamists: Boutique Ice Creams and Other Guilty Pleasures to Make and Enjoy at Home.
Matt O’Connor. Available at Amazon.com (of course) for a mere $18.52