June 30, 2010
“[•] How Does He Do That? … Pan The Camera 45 Degrees.” ~ David Copperfield
Often I hear, “How do you do that?”, when I explain I have SPS. Disbelief reactions at some of my perceived ‘normalcy’ in regards to appearance, a clean house, or animated conversation. It is all illusion, smoke and mirrors of medication magic.
Yesterday morning, I felt the tightening and ripples of what I ‘thought’ was just a bad morning. As my morning progressed, I sought help from Gertie, (my walker), and was alarmed at how my symptoms were worse than the typical bad day. I was also home alone.
A severe SPS attack occurred in the hall. Wracked with intense myoclonic spasm and inability to move, I managed to slide down Gert to lay on the hallway floor. From my SPS Primer, I remembered an early lesson from my SPS mentor and friend, Stephen. “Ground zero will usually stop an episode as a fall or a deliberate maneuver to get there.”
As I lay on the hallway floor, the spasms alleviated and I rested while I mentally planned on how to get to the computer room with access to a phone. Getting upright, I managed a tightened with tremors, slow shuffle with Gertie to the computer room.
Wracked again with severe spasm, I slid down the door to the floor. After a few beached fish flops, my body quieted. I reached for my meds in my pocket and managed to shake a few diazepam on the floor. I crunched them and waited a few minutes to try to get to the desk.
My computer desk was only three feet away. Managing to get to my desk, SPS symptoms again overtook my body in a myoclonic seige. Helpless, I managed to lay back in my chair while my body convulsed for 15 – 20 minutes. Experience had me know, (hope), when the diazepam had time to kick in, my body would relax.
As the diazepam quieted the spasms, my body hiccupped in aftermath shocks as Gertie navigated me to bed. With a few shivers, I managed to lay down. It had been ages since I had an episode this severe or prolonged.
Looking at the clock, it was time for lunchtime medication. I was shocked when I opened my bottle to discover I had forgotten my morning baclofen dosage! (The trigger for my severe episode.) I heard Professor Stephen’s voice telling me, “Always remember, without medication, you are 72 hours from your worst.”
Today I am fine. None the worse for wear. I am a master of illusion. Medication, diversionary props, timed performances…all smoke and mirrors. Pan the camera 45 degrees.
“Art has a double face, of expression and illusion, just like science has a double face: the reality of error and the phantom of truth.” ~ Publilius Syrus
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