Shakylegs

I had to pause
When I read this.
During my little ischemic attack last March, what was most worrisome was how utterly lonely it was inside my head. No gray noise, inner conversations were turned off, simply the echo of any thought I could force myself to make. It was so strange, like one part of your brain was trying to talk to the other part, but the bridge was down. Even monosyllabic words didn't make sense. I learned then that the constant chatter in your brain is a good thing.
Oh, and I also learned not to contradict the milliner or put up a defense when it came to her caring for me.
Luckily for me, that episode was transient. I can't imagine how devastating it can be to be struck with a mental illness, or to have it strike a loved one. To not even be able to control your mind, your thoughts, your emotions, to be able to get your body to even do what were, for you, the simplest of movements.
I'm reminded of my uncle, who was a world-ranked flyweight boxer. Five-foot-four--they're all leprechauns on my mom's side, with her being one of the tallest at 4'11"--and really sweet, but you never wanted to make him angry. He spent the last 20 years of his life fighting Alzheimer's.
I'll stick with the momentary physical emergency situations, if it's all right with you.

posted by Michel @ 2:59 PM