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You know you have epilepsy when my husband came home to me taking curtains off the windows, not making any sense when he spoke to me. Then I climbed into my daughters bed thinking it was my own. Then came the killer headache, my hubby pu me in our bed and I slept for 3 days. He woke me twice a day to drink something- then right back to sleep. (WHAT A LIFE)!!! Has anyone else slept that long after a seizure?This topic may be somewhere else, if so...just ignore this. If not, then let's begin!
You know you have epilepsy if:
1. You've ever found yourself in a store patting the butt of a man who turned out NOT to be your husband.
2. You've ever tried to disassemble your toilet (in high heals) before leaving for the office. :flushed:
3. You have moved all of your silverware onto the floor at a Thai restaurant. And come out of the seizure to find that the waitress has kindly placed all of the food on the floor for you as well! :hungry:
(Seriously folks, I came out of that seizure sitting indian-style with some cashew chicken in front of me)!
4. You have ever pissed off the dairy manager at Kroger for "rearranging" his aisles and restacking his eggs...mostly into your shopping cart. (Who needs ten dozen eggs?...apparently my brain thought I did)!
5. Finally, if you've ever been in a voting booth during a seizure and your not sure who you elected for president! :twocents: :secret:
I'll post when I'm out of the hospital next week...maybe you guys can enjoy this thread.-Julie
When you wind up in your neighbors apartment in your underware. (thankfully he took me down the hall back to mine. This happened almost 3 weeks ago). AGH!
You wake up and the bed is full of blood and you wonder why then you say to hell with it and go back to sleep, a few minuets later you wake up to a crowd of people talking and asking is your head sore, why, because you have split it open during a seizure and you do not know it.
When you wear two medical IDs. One necklace and one bracelet. Hey, the medics are bound to find one of them!
you are going to a plastic surgeon to correct the mess you have made constantly smashing your mouth off the floor, instead of going to get him to give you a sexy pout.