Epilepsy Chronicles: Precursory Shakiness

     Honestly, I don't know if what I am about to describe is germane to the Epilepsy Chronicles.  I think it is.      My thoughts, words, and descriptions deal with brain damage most directly, moreso than epilepsy per se.
     I work very hard to stay as calm as is possible--humor, empathy, patience, among other attributes that elude me.  These attributes may be seen as laudable, and, in one sense, they may be.  Yet, there is a neurological basis that makes these attributes essential.  I am not a doctor.   I have not studied neurology, or any scientific discipline that might offer me insight.
     I can quantify the dosages of anticonvulsants I am prescribed to tame the extra electrical activity in my brain--milligrams.  I can quantify the level of anticonvulsants in my bloodstream, which are determined by a blood test--a therapeutic blood level range.  Based on my weight, at least, there is a numeric scale established. If the therapeutic blood level is too low, my experience has been that more medication is prescribed.  The opposite is true, too.  In my experience, blood levels that are too high on that scale lead doctors to prescribe a higher dosage of medications.  Sometimes, an altogether different anticonvulsant is prescribed.
    Yet, I cannot quantify the threshold I have for anger, and frustration, which leads to shakiness of my whole body--I cannot quantify it for myself or for others.  I recognize it myself.  All I know to do is to cry, and then, isolate myself until my jangled nerves are tamed, and my body is steadied physically.  The crying is the cleansing agent essential to taming the extra electrical activity in my brain.
    Compounding my own response, I know that the apologies of other people, well-intended though I know they are, only exacerbate my initial response.  Trying to be rational long enough to isolate myself for my necessary cry, and quiet time is extremely difficult.  I know that a part of that quiet means removing any activities that I know will involve further neurological agitation.  I try to be rational, so as to explain that I can withstand some tension, frustration, and anger.  Yet, my rational efforts are useless.  My nervous system has been hijacked such that being physically steady is next to impossible.
     What I have just described is not a seizure, as I understand it, after having lived with epilepsy for more than 40 years.  My description today is fresh to my life--fresh to this moment.  After anticipating a personal training session for several weeks--a session to identify further efforts I may take to strengthen my arms, hands, and legs--I met with tremendous disappointment, frustration, and anger that a perfectly understandable mixup in appointment times occurred.  Not knowing precisely what to ask for to reschedule--what specific terms to use (a neurosis of mine)--my neurological response is intensified.
     I need peace--inner peace, calm, perspective, and determination to reclaim goals I know have been strengthening me, irrespective of reliable help I expected, and hoped I would be given today.  I need insight. Am I merely making an excuse for unnecessary, irrational behavior, or is there some credibility to my thoughts--my descriptions?

Comfort the Afflicted...Afflict the Comfortable

     Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.
     This paradox troubles me. It has for a lifetime.  Yesterday, I heard the phrase in church.  I felt squeamish--I feel squeamish.  What did I do? Nothing. I left the church, and went about my business.
     I was called to return that message--literally.
     "Patty, will you call him?  He is scared," I was told.  The fear--the short-term fear--was with due cause.  Yet, there is a longer-term trepidation that need not be.  So, what was I to say?
     Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.
Easy.  Offer comfort to his immediate circumstances--unnerving acts of nature.
     Comfort [verb] [with object] make (someone) feel less unhappy; console:  help (someone) feel at ease; reassure.  http://oxforddictionaries.com/definition/comfort?region=us
     That is easy.  Comfort resonates with the daily aspirations I have.
     Yet, comfort is only half of what I am being called to do.  Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.
     Economic dependence.  Complacency toward changing that dependence.  Finding a first job after college.  Fear.  Trepidation.  These are at the core of what I am being called to address--in every sense of the word.
     Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.

     How, in concert with my principles, and values, am I supposed to respond?  Understand--understand the definition of terms.
     Afflict verb [with object] (of a problem or illness) cause pain or suffering to; affect or trouble. http://oxforddictionaries.com/definition/afflict?region=us

     Afflict violates every principle I believe in, and aspire to conduct my daily life.  At least, that has been my approach toward the word.
     If I am being called to afflict the comfortable, then what choices does the afflict offer me to choose?
     Cause pain to.  Cause suffering to.  Affect.  Trouble.
     The first two options are not in concert with my values.  I would never knowingly inflict physical or emotional pain or suffering on anyone, especially a loved one.  I cannot, in good conscience, even consider it.  I understand the impact both may have.  I cannot be a party to effecting those consequence.
     Trouble is more nebulous to me.  I find it hard to quantify trouble, either positively or negatively.
If asked to place the four elements of afflict on a continuum, with the most egregious on the left to the most palatable on the right, I would draw the following continuum.  At the far left would be cause pain.  The next element would be cause suffering.
    The first two elements are relatively close to one another.  The third element would be further to the right--trouble.  On the far right of my continuum would be affect.  If I accept affect, it completely changes my understanding of afflict.  Somehow, it takes the emotional sting I have abhorred whenever I heard the word.

     If asked to identify my modus operandi, when it comes to affecting or seeking to affect people or causes, it is storytelling.  My maternal grandfather was a tremendous storyteller.  He shared marvelous stories about his life.  He was accessible to me, having lived with my family when I was in high school.  Ray was certainly not Catholic, nor liberal politically.  Yet, he instilled in me the value of telling stories--sharing personal history.

     I started this posting not knowing what action to take.  I knew or knew of several facts.  First, comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.  Second, I was called to comfort the afflicted--literally.  Third, I was called to afflict the comforted.  Fourth, I had a relationship to provide context to any comfort or affliction I might choose to act upon.. Finally, I was a coward in risking myself to provide needed help.  My loved ones have risked themselves to improve my life--to save me at times when I have been without knowledge of how to help myself.  I can, should, and now have taken several actions.  I do not know how they will be received.  Yet, my offerings were--are--genuine, honest, and well-intended. 

The Epilepsy Chronicles: A Firm Grip on Me

   You have a hold on my right leg and arm no longer.  Yet, your grip on me is firm--firmer than I realize.  I try to erase you from my memory--put you in the well within me.  Yet, I look back to my words--to my writings.  You have a firm grip on my mind.  You take words from my my sentences.  You steal the precious part of me that I want to give.  You give me no clue as to where you are.  You give me no key to find you.  Where are you?  You are hiding from me.
     I try to understand.