Off I went to the neurologist, hopeful and anxious to find out what was happening to me. I figured neurologists are smart and certainly paid well enough so surely he would be able to diagnose the problem, give me a prescription to knock it out and I'd be on my way. Deep down, I knew better.
That visit was the first of many times I'd be asked if I'd hit my head ...been in a car wreck...any injury bad enough to have caused a scar on my brain? If I had, I probably would have remembered to mention it, right? It turned out to be a constant question along with my personal favorite "have you been under a great deal of stress". Honestly, life is stressful, it just is and up to that point, I'd managed my stress pretty well. Now the "you have a lesion on your brain" announcement had me pretty freakin' stressed out.
Needless to say, he did not, could not, give me an answer as to what was wrong with me. He wanted to run some tests; an MRI with contrast, a 24-hour EEG, an eye exam, a test for epilepsy and, possibly, a spinal tap. The EEG was my favorite, it involved The Predator, model airplane glue and a hat - I'll save the particulars for another post so wait for it.
Home from the neurologist, no answers-more questions, I decide I need something happy. Craig and I take 3 year old Hannah outside to ride her tricycle. It's a beautiful day and her hair literally glows in the sunlight, she doesn't have a care in the world. I on the other hand, can only shuffle along and cannot feel my left arm at all. Craig decides I need a laugh and thinks JUMPING OVER THE BABY ON THE TRICYCLE will be hilarious and let me tell you, the leap was awesome! He cleared her beautiful blonde head and the tiny red bike with ease. However, he did NOT stick the landing! Landed at the edge of the sidewalk and I heard a big pop than a whole lot of cussing as he lay on the ground, clearly in pain. I obviously couldn't help him up so I sent Hannah inside to get her brother. DJ came and got him off the ground and with his support, Craig began to hop on one foot towards the house. Hannah was out in front, laughing and jumping all over the place saying "Daddy trying to get me" - she thought the whole thing was great fun!
Inside, I call Craig's cousin to take him to the ER from which he comes home using crutches for a severe sprain. I manage to feed us all, watch Tom and Jerry with Hannah and get her to bed. Get Craig situated in the recliner, ice pack, elevation, etc., then sneak outside to call my sister and fill her in on the day's events. Little did I know, we were just getting warmed up...
Collapse into bed, willing myself to relax and get some sleep, weird noises from Hannah's room. I go in without turning on the light and go to her. Says she doesn't feel well so I start to lean over to feel her head and...surprise...whole left side freezes again, causing me to sit down on her bed quickly before I fall. Feel something weird on my hand and the back of my right leg (because the left one isn't feeling anything at the moment) and realize...I've just landed in a a puddle of PUKE! That explains the weird noises I'd heard. I definitely DID stick the landing or, rather, the landing was sticky.
All of the sudden, like an angel, I see my mama standing in the doorway. She'd heard the ruckus and come to my rescue. When I could move again, she stripped the bed and got everything into the washing machine while I cleaned Hannah, and myself, up the best I could. Our make-shift bath included washing a big section of her long blonde hair in a giant plastic cup from some BBQ place and a whole lot of baby wipes. I silently, irrationally kept repeating that line from the movie Babe "That'll do, pig, that'll do".
It. Would. Have. To.