Tuesday, February 16, 2016


     My aura is weird and scary and another reason I'm different because it usually warns me in time to protect myself.
     This aspect of my disease separates me from epileptics who wake up in ambulances or hospitals, with big chunks of time missing from their lives.
    I get a glimpse into their world sometimes, through car wrecks and falls, but only when the aura is short and the seizure too strong.
     Even then, it gives me time to hunker down, that it's going to happen NOW!
     My aura has saved me too many times to count, both physically and emotionally.
     It's how I keep myself "together" and don't worry about seizing in public. There is time to hide it or pretend it's something else, if necessary.
     It's a gift.
     Only once have I found a bruise and later realized it was from hurting myself during a seizure.
     That was several weeks ago. A purple streak on my pinkie that I thought was magic marker wouldn't wash off one afternoon and hurt deep, down inside at an odd, diagonal angle.
     It was a scary but familiar feeling, trying to remember how I could've hurt myself.
     So, I retraced my steps from a seizure that morning in the basement, when I crouched down on the basement floor, without passing out, or so I thought.
     Did something else happen, but not very bad because it was only a mark on the tip of my pinkie?
     It made sense to me before I even reached the bottom of the stairs. My pinkie hurt from catching myself on the sink to prevent a "hard" fall, of course.
     My aura had saved me again.
     I think it loves me.