Epilepsy Sucks....

In November 2014, I was diagnosed with Medial Temporal Lobe Epilepsy. I usually suffer simple/partials. The following is an excerpt from my book "Straight Ahead, In the Dark." It explains my first seizure I suffered in 1995 at the age of seventeen. I was undiagnosed, and scared shitless...

A few weeks later, on an ordinary Saturday, I planned on meeting up with Mack around ten at his house. I was trying to set myself straight in school to no avail and saving the partying for the weekends. After spending a Friday night with Mack gallivanting around town, he called around three on this particular Saturday afternoon and told me he made plans to go to a girl’s house he knew to get down as he put it. We set up a rendezvous for us to smoke and maybe hang out afterwards. At five o'clock I had time to kill so I called a mutual friend of ours.

Kristie LaGuardia is a small round half-Italian, half-African with full lips, and a baby-faced flawless complexion. I met Kristie through Mack and had only known her for a few months. She suggested I hang out and watch a movie with her. Her house was the place where random kids were constantly coming and going. It was a happening place because her parents weren’t home half the time.

When I arrived two guys I knew from school were there. I didn’t know them well, but I knew they were stoners like me. One of them, Tommy, sat on the ratty couch by the front door on the phone with a cigarette hanging from his fingers. He put the cigarette to his lips and the two inch ash broke off and fell onto his lap. He brushed the ashes to the floor and with the phone receiver still in his ear he piped up and said he was going to score some weed and asked if I wanted to get in with him. I never say no to hippie spinach. So around eight o’clock, Tommy and the other guy, I didn't know his real name but everyone called him Gringo due to his Mexican heritage, got a call and the three of us were off to score our dope. It was an ordinary transaction. They rode their bikes and I jogged to the end of the street. Then we hung a right to the next block over. We met up with the dealer, scored, rolled up a fat joint—what they called a dooberonic—right there on the corner and we passed it around. It was nothing special. Tommy's sister met us there to pinch a little for herself. I started rolling around in the street and giggling my fool head off.

“What the fuck is wrong with this guy?!?” Tommy’s sister asked.

“I don’t know, maybe he’s a rookie.” Gringo said.

“Sorry guys,” I said as I got up still giggling, “That never happens.”

“Well, it is good stuff, I only get the best.” Tommy added.

“Yeah man. I feel ya.” I said. I’ve had better.

“You got a hold of yourself?” Tommy asked.

I barely held back my giggles. “Yeah, I do now.”

“Let’s go back to Kristie’s.” Gringo added. “We’re asking for the fuzz hangin out in the open like this.”

We started walking back to Kristie's house. The last thing we wanted was some nosy doughnut muncher to drive by and get curious. As I turned the corner back on her street something changed. "We’re gonna sleep like champs tonight." Gringo said. "No doubt." I answered. Right then a feeling of euphoria completely washed my body. Tommy and Gringo rode nonchalantly down the street. "WOW!" I exclaimed. "I feel like a little kid again!" Tommy and Gringo found that hilarious. I looked down the street and everything was crystal clear. It was the most beautiful feeling I had ever felt. Then, I felt like I had been there before. Everything I was doing at that exact point I had done a million times before. I felt I knew what was going to happen next. It was the strangest feeling I had ever felt in my life, and it was starting to scare me. Tommy and Gringo dumped their bikes in Kristie's front yard and ran up the porch steps. I followed them in the house. They flopped on Kristie's couch, and I walked past the coffee table to look for Kristie in the kitchen and BAM.... I blacked out. When I came too, I was sprawled out on my back in the living room and Tommy and Gringo's faces were looking over me. "Look," Gringo said, "his head's busted open." Then they were gone. I was in a fog. Then Kristie's little sister's face appeared. "Yeah, he's bleeding." She said. "I'm calling 9-1-1." A few minutes later, that registered and I snapped awake. Shit! They’re calling the fuzz and I’m stoned out of my mind. This is not going to end good. I arose from the floor and walked out to the front porch. Kristie's sister was standing in the yard. Tommy and Gringo had boogalooed when they found out the heat was coming. I would never see them again. I sat down on the steps and the shadows of the night started playing tricks on me. "Are you ok?" Kristie's sister asked. I didn't reply. I was shaking so she got the blanket off the couch and put it around my shoulders. Seconds felt like hours. The weird feelings came back worse that before the blackout. I felt like everything was scripted. I thought I knew exactly what she was going to do and say next, down to every last detail. I had an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. I felt I was locked in a never ending loop of events. It was like everything in the universe revolved in a circle and at that moment, I was experiencing that exact moment in time again for the millionth time. The sensation scared the living shit out of me. I got up and started walking home. Home was three blocks away. "But wait!" Kristie's sister yelled after me. "Help is coming for you." "I have to go home." I said. "I have to see if I still live there." I thought that this wasn't happening. This was a dream or I had passed through another dimension or a time warp. So I was heading home to see if my dad and I were in fact living there. I was confused beyond belief. I walked home, wave upon wave of emotions were hitting me. It was almost like I was looking through panels of different dimensions. This was beyond weird and terrifying. I saw everything crystal clear, then insane déjà vu, then mass confusion. Everything in the universe revolved in a circle. Everything was stuck on repeat. Half way to my house, a patrol car careened by the road and a cop hopped out. The cars strobe lights started a new wave of déjà vu and tears started streaming from my eyes. The officer tried to restrain me so I punched him in the face. He tackled me to the ground, hog-tied and handcuffed me with thick zip ties before I even knew any better. I continued to struggle and battle for what seemed like forever. He knelt on my neck and I couldn’t breathe. Another cop had arrived within the melee at the scene and sat on my chest. I was choking for life.

The authorities called my dad and caught him just after he had gone to bed. He drove to the hospital showing up in wrinkled clothes and flip flops, hair all disheveled, and found me handcuffed to the gurney charged with assault on a police officer. It was quite a predicament I got myself into. I was looking at some jail time; probably in juvie. Dad wanted answers so I gave vague details of what happened because my brain was scrambled, then I passed out again.

When I awoke again a nurse came over me and shoved a bottle in my face and said if I didn't piss in it, they would have to shoot a catheter up my dick. So I peed in the jar. It was then I realized the cuffs were gone. I thought I had dreamed them. The ride home was silent. I was destroyed. I just wanted to crawl in bed and stay there for a month.