As promised, pr0n! This is the skein of yarny goodness I picked up today to accompany me on the flight to Russia. It is lovely, sproingy, mottled Colinette Jitterbug yarn in colourway Jay, and it will become a Jaywalker scarf. I picked up some bamboo dpns to use. Two will hide in my hair to get through security, and the rest will sit in my purse in a glasses case. Hopefully the needles won’t be a problem, but if so, my crazy hair will hide them nicely.
Our car is all better! As you may recall from my last post, our brakes were shot. The pad on one rear brake was nearly gone, and the other was entirely missing: worn right through. Through some smart shopping on the part of mum and her bf, Mr. Microscope, we were able to get new brakes for a very good deal, and thanks to Mr. Microscope’s friend, Handsome Dan, they were installed at no cost. As they were working on the brakes, the utter destruction of the tires became apparent. It would seem we had worn all the way through the tread in spots on the rear tires, exposing the radial. Yeah, bad news. The good news was that – again, thanks to mum and the bf – a fabulous tire deal was found, and Dave Next Door agreed to install them for next to nothing. Buying the man a 24 of Heineken would have cost us more. So now we are braking and gripping and very happy with the general safety of our car.
And a response to Bezzie’s question in her comment on the August 23rd post: “Can you feel your seizures coming on? I’ve got two friends that are epileptics, one can feel them coming on, one can’t. “
In a way, yes. Most of my seizures have been at night, so I have been asleep as they began. But now, having gone essentially without any seizure activity for over a decade, I can feel when things aren’t right. The last time I went off the meds after having a clean EEG, I began having absence seizures. Very strange, but also a little interesting (sort of a “stoned” feeling). The best way I can think to describe it is that I find things start to seem almost cute when my medication levels are low or non-existent. It’s hard to put into words, but there is definitely something off, and it starts days or even weeks – off and on – before the glassy eyes and staring blankly starts. Which is good. It’s nice to have some warning.
I, honestly, feel a little strange writing about my condition. There’s this bizarre stigma surrounding epilepsy, due largely to the almost entire lack of understanding and education people have about the condition. It is so varied and, in many ways, so random, that it is a difficult thing for the lay person to conceive. And generations of misunderstanding harking back as far as Judeo-Christian scripture (all that bit about fits and the exorcising of demons? often epilepsy) and have continued to the present day. Even now, epilepsy awareness and support groups caution people to be wary when sharing details of their condition with employers, as many people have experienced discriminatory hiring and employment practices as a result. All that said, though, the only way to destroy the stigma is to speak openly. So I do my best!