Recommendation. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, have a seizure around people who love you. It tends to freak them out a bit.

A couple of days ago I had one. This is something that isn't terribly uncommon for me. By that I mean I've had three in my life. Not a ton, not like I get to have a seizure dog like in My Sister's Keeper to live with me and bark every time I before I have one, which is disappointing, but this isn't the first time I've had one. One in 5th grade, one junior year of high school, and now one more.

I was at a rehearsal dinner for a wedding I was going to shoot the next day. Normally I'm not at the rehearsal dinners but Phil was playing guitar for the ceremony, so he had to be there, and I was invited along with his family. And I didn't want to go because I had cramps from hell all day and just wanted to go home and get better, but for some reason I went anyway(thanks, God). So we get there and they do the rehearsing thing and I'm walking around the backyard where it's being held trying to relieve my cramps and setting up shots in my head for the next day. All is well.

Then we sit down to eat, all scattered about the multi-level porch, and Phil's sitting in a chair and I'm sitting on the edge of the porch in front of him on the highest part of the porch, talking to the groom's mom who's sitting on the edge of a lower part of the porch in front of me. She's asking about certain pictures she wants to get the next day, and all the area around her is getting black and splotchy. And I know what's going to happen, but for some reason feel the need to answer her question and ignore the fact that I'm going to conk out. So I stop for a second and breathe and then respond to her, turn around and look up at Phil and say I'm going to pass out. And then my body goes limp and I fall into his leg.

Now comes the part where I retell what I was told happened.

Apparently Phil thought I just meant that I was tired because I say that sometimes when I'm exhausted, so for the first few seconds he thought I was just leaning on him. And then the seizing part happend and I got all tense and he grabbed my arm and his mind got all, "what do I do what do I do?!?!" His mom asked if I was okay and he responded, "noo!" like it was the most ridiculous question anyone could be asking him in that moment.

And mild panic ensued. Kathi started praying because that's Kathi's default reaction to everything, and Rodney said he rubbed my head because he felt like it was what he should be doing, no idea why. Somebody mentioned calling 911. Had I been conscious I would've said, "no no, no please don't, I'll be fine, this just happens sometimes", but I wasn't, so one of the bridesmaids who happens to be an EMT came running over and started asking Phil questions about if it had happened before and he's all, "yeah, I think so, a couple of years ago, I don't really know if it's the same", because we've never really discussed this in much detail.

Meanwhile I can hear people saying my name while I'm in dreamland and I'm all, oh crap, I had a seizure. I was just talking on the porch like a normal person and now I'm dreaming, I must have had a seizure. Phil said all the sudden I just sat straight up and went, "I'm okay, I just had a seizure, it happens sometimes." And the EMT's all, "Have you been drinking?!" And I'm all, HELLO, I'm at a family function with my boyfriend and his parents, none of whom drink, what do you think?! Only I actually just said no. And then I wanted a nap. I always want naps after seizures, I normally sleep for like 3-4 hours. So the groom's mom let me fall on her bed, and I'm lying there trying to fall asleep and all I can think is that I'm in some woman's bed and I can't even remember her name for sure.

And while I'm thinking this, Rodney came in with some water and I assured him I was okay, and then Kathi came in and squeezed the life out of me and I assured her I was okay, and then I apparently dozed off for a bit because Phil said when he came in I was sleeping. But then I woke up before he came in again and I assured him I was okay. Lots of reassuring happening, and after enough of that I didn't feel too tired and we all got in the car to go home.

Now, my parents were in Utah. Vacationing. So I figured I wouldn't call them and worry them or worry them until they got home, because that's a roaming charge and they can't do anyting from there and no big deal, it happens, I'm alive. Kathi didn't like that too much though, and she sighed and looked at me and said real gently, "I think you should call your mom. If it was my daughter, I'd want to know." Now, Kathi and my mother are complete and total opposites, but I obeyed and called. My stepdad answered and was all, hmm, okay, so you're okay now? Alright, good, we'll see you when we get home. Which is exactly how I knew they'd be and I'm totally okay with that, because it's rational. We're a rational family. Just so long as they know I'm okay, then they're okay.

Kathi and Rodney and Phil aren't quite like that though. Kathi had a bed made for me at their house within the first five minutes of getting back. And I wasn't allowed to drive anywhere. The next morning Phil drove me back to my house to get ready and pack everything for the wedding. He doesn't usually like to drive my car and I knew I was okay, so I was like, "Hey, it's okay, I can drive, you can just come with me and pacify your mother." And he was all, um, no way. You are not driving you are not carrying anything heavier than a feather you are not being left alone for more than the two minutes it takes you to go to the bathroom, and your shower better not exceed five or I'm pounding down the door to make sure you're not seizing again.

All of this was endearing yet annoying. I like my space. It's harder for them because they'd never experienced that before, but to me it's been there, done that, let's get back to life.

By the end of the wedding day they'd been reassured enough that I was capable of driving and sleeping in my house alone. I wanted my own bed and a good night's sleep, and I needed to make sure the house was ready for my parents to get home the next day. You know, put away my coats and shoes that never tend to make it to the closet, make sure there was milk in the fridge. The basics.

Overall though, I am thankful for this second family that loves me nearly as much as my first. It's nice to know you've got back up when you need it.

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