The F Word

One little four-letter word is the ruler of my life.

F-E-A-R

In many cases it's justified, which I'll explain in context of my current situation, but whether the fear is warranted or not is beside the point. Fear shouldn't be running the show, for me or anyone else.

I am registered to run a half marathon next month. NEXT MONTH. I started halfheartedly training months ago, and then life got in the way, and then I started again, and then life got in the way again. Well, you know that saying, the one that goes something like: "If you want to do something, you'll find a way. If you don't want to do it, you'll find an excuse." There you go, a perfect explanation for this particular predicament. After all, I do hate running, and that is absolutely no secret.

I kind of figured I would turn the training into high gear once the kids started school, and hope to at least walk really, really fast and run part of the half.

And then...

I haven't really talked about this much, but a few weeks ago I'm pretty sure I had a seizure. Something like this has happened to me before, but it had been over three years since the last incident. At that time, I had some testing done, and a neurologist wanted to put me on a drug I was not comfortable taking, so I never filled the prescription. I started a rigorous chiropractic regime with adjustments three times a week and just concentrated on taking better care of myself. And I was fine, until a few weeks ago when it happened again.

Unsurprisingly, it happened when I was run down and worn out. I was out of town with my mom and kids, spending lots of time in the bright hot sun (a migraine trigger for me), walking a lot, driving a lot. I ended up with a killer sick headache our last night at the hotel, was okay the next two days and then woke up to this thing that I think was a seizure.

This is how it happens for me. Always when I first wake up. I feel sick, then lose control of my hands (and once, my entire body). I don't have convulsions, like you are probably thinking when you envision a seizure. I know now that there are actually many different types of seizures. My muscles in my hands seize up and I can't move my fingers. I'm dizzy and nauseous and totally conscious the whole time. This time I was sweating profusely but I can't remember if that was the case in the past. I don't know how long it lasted but it felt like an eternity.

For the rest of the day, I felt horrible. Weak and nauseated, with no appetite and no energy. I felt unwell for several days, and when I started to feel better, I over-did it (we were getting ready for my daughter's birthday and redecorating her bedroom), and then felt bad again for a couple more days.

Finally I felt normal again, totally, blissfully normal. I spent days school shopping and walking around Greenfield Village and still felt completely fine.

Then last weekend we went to my father-in-law's for a little barbeque and swimming, and I did something I have done hundreds of times in my life. I did a somersault in the pool. One, that's it. When I came up out of the water, the world was tilted sideways. I struggled to swim to the side of the pool, and slowly inched my way out. I made it into the house, where I sat in the dark bathroom until it was time to leave. I was dizzy and nauseated the rest of the day and felt unwell for days afterward.

According to several of my friends, this last occurrence seems like an episode of vertigo. I've never had anything like this happen to me before, and with it coming so close on the heels of the other incident a few weeks ago, I'm a little uneasy.

(No, I haven't been to a doctor. That is a discussion for another day.)

So anyway, let's come full circle back to that F-word. You see now what I mean? I think I'm justified in being a little scared, given the circumstances. I don't know if I can (or should) run, and I'm worried that if I do I might trigger another episode.

I'm a little annoyed, to tell the truth. But since I'm (once again) feeling fine, I'm going to walk everyday and see how things go. If I continue to feel good, maybe I'll try running a little bit. I don't know.

I think I'm being properly cautious, given the circumstances. But I still don't like it. I want to be able to run without worrying about the implications on my health. Yes, I did mention that I hate running. But still, it is my prerogative to torture myself as I see fit!

I'll be honest. What happened to me was terrifying. I am very afraid of it happening again. (Fearful enough to take meds that might make me suicidal and unable to drive? Probably not.)

This is, unfortunately, not the only area of my life where fear is king. It's just the one that's on my mind the most at the moment.

I think most people let fear rule their lives to a certain degree. What about you? Have you managed to move beyond your fears, or are they holding you back?