On Saturday, I got up, drank coffee, togged up and went for a run. I didn’t run terribly far, or terribly fast – 1.2 miles in 11m 35 seconds. When I got back, I drank more – probably water, though I don’t remember, and then crouched on the kitchen floor to read a book to Tigerboy.
I wasn’t down there terribly long. A few minutes? Big was sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal and playing on her phone.
I stood up.
And my world tilted.
I remember a slight wooziness. Then I remember Big standing in front of me screaming. She said I’d had a fit. (That isn’t quite how she phrased it.) And then she ran out of the room after Tigerboy, who ran out crying when she was shouting.
I just had an impression of movement, noise. Chaos. I straightened up properly, and saw that the hob was red. Somehow I must have turned it on as I fell against it. Big later described me collapsing backwards and then sliding to the side. I’ve got bruising down my back in various places where I must have hit the edge of the hob and the drawer knobs. And I had the worse headache. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Instead, after I sat for a while, then lay down for longer, I called 111. Probably we should have called 999, according to the various guidelines we found later. But we didn’t, we called 111. After running through a slightly bizarre checklist (why did I need to sit with my arms in the air?) the call handler decided I needed a doctor within 6 hours. So I got a callback with an appt time a couple of hours away, and we outsourced some children to local relatives and went and sat in a waiting room.
Why are these things always so very delayed? I’ve spent time in that waiting room with Tigerboy before now, and they are never running anywhere near time.
We eventually saw a doctor, who took what we described quite seriously. It could be a faint. It could be something else. He recommended getting a referral from my GP to neurology. And he told me not to drive.
Yesterday I pretty much slept.
Today I got up early and rang the doctors. I got a receptionist who got me a callback pretty much immediately, and a GP who had all the answers before he heard any of the questions. We went in to an appt, and he was quite argumentative and dismissive. He did grind to a halt when I explained why I already knew about the advice not to take baths.
Granted, I’ve always had low blood pressure. Granted, I often go woozy. It’s very rare that I completely black out, the most I do is stagger, and this was a whole different thing. And given the family history, I’m sure you can understand why I’m more than a little bit freaked by all of this.
The GP said he would put money on it being a blood pressure thing. He advised standing up more slowly, and wiggling my toes. (Yes, really.) He also said that there’s a 30% chance that it is something else. And I’ve been referred to the first fit clinic, appt should be within 2-4 weeks. And I still can’t drive.
Although, if there’s a delay to the appt, he’ll clear me to drive, because that’s his medical opinion.
(I’m not getting the pomposity across.)
So, that’s why we’re not in Wales, at Bluestone, reviewing their luxury cabins. That’s why I’ve sat at the table tonight and cried. That’s why I spent time with Tigerboy asleep in my arms yesterday, cherishing every moment. I’ll admit, I’m struggling with this one.
I’m struggling with the idea that I can’t go for a run by myself, or shouldn’t ride a bike alone. That I can’t drive, so I couldn’t make up for missing out on a review holiday by at least making home ed skating this afternoon. And I can’t take them to our friends during the week.
(I don’t have to worry about not taking baths. We don’t have a bath. And I never go swimming, even though I love it.)
I thought I understood epilepsy, I’ve worked with people with it, seen seizures, lost my sister to it. Maybe I just fainted on Saturday. Maybe I’ll get an all clear in a few weeks time. But right now, my world is tilting.