Chapter 3 - Monster

  

“Paul, it’s alright” my wife said. 

“Paul don’t worry you’re going to be fine” said the paramedic 

“Dad” cried one of my three children huddled together in the bedroom doorway.

I was trying to wake up because it was my bedroom and there were strangers in it. Too much colour again. Lots of green this time. Uniforms, ambulance men. I tried to sit up. Someone had been hurt whilst I was asleep - why didn’t someone wake me? I don’t seem to be able to find the strength to get up or ask the questions I want to ask. 

“Just relax Paul” said a paramedic. “We’re going to get you in the ambulance very soon”.

“Ok” I said.

“It’s ok darling you’re going to be fine” Angela said again. But this time I was scared, because I could tell that she was.

“What’s happened?” I said. It was difficult to talk because I was so tired and because my tongue wouldn’t work properly. It hurt too and I could taste blood.

“It looks like you’ve had a seizure” said the paramedic “we’ll get you off to the hospital and let them take a look at you.”

My grand mal siezure had shaken the house and everyone in it. It must have been terrifying for my wife and young children.

I had been asleep when the first seizure started so I missed the feeling immediately before it’s onset. Different people experience different things. Some get a warning, some don’t. Some experience what is described as an aura. Some get a strange sensation of smell or a feeling of dread. 

I was awake when my second seizure struck. Seconds before, I was consumed by a feeling of dread. As the seizure subsided leaving me exhausted and hollowed out, the feeling of dread remained. But this was real, not the by product of some wayward neuro-electrical activity, this was explainable, justifiable - there had to be something very badly wrong with me. 

At the time I didn’t realise how deeply affected my young family were by my seizures, how destabalised their life had just become. The solid ground that was me, had opened up beneath their feet. I was no longer reliable. I could no longer be trusted. During one of my seizures I had got to my feet and pushed Luke, my 8 year old son, nearly knocking him down the stairs. I was of course unaware of this. A grand mal seizure goes through a set pattern and during this particular phase, a subconscious fight or flight impulse can make the sufferer a bit of a handful - on the move, rolling eyes, blueish complexion, spitting blood from biting their own tongue, strong, determined, scared, unaware and uncaring. 

Or as I must have looked to Luke...a monster.