When I was a young boy I always used to prefer bees over wasps. Naturally I wasn’t particularly fond of either, but if I had to choose then the winner as far as I was concerned would always be the bumble bee. This was not a mere random choice, either, but one that was born out of reason (as much reason as a young boy can achieve).
Generally, as I was informed by my parents, a bumble bee will not sting you, not unless you provoke it, whereas wasps can be a lot less predictable, and will sting you whenever they feel like it. It was not, however, this factor that made up my opinion of wasps. If you encourage a bee to leave by the slightly uncoordinated wafting of a rolled newspaper (which can all too quickly dissolve into frantic swatting) then generally the bee will get the message and fly away. Unfortunately it would seem that wasps do not share this civility of knowing when to simply leave, but instead encroach upon all manner of events . Wasps will not stop offending unless one of three scenarios occur, 1) The become trapped in a jar or bottle and lose all threat. 2) You get lucky with a rolled up newspaper and finish off the wasp. 3) It stings you brutally and then decides to leave.
I’m sure you’re wondering why I am going on about wasps and bees instead of the impacts of epilepsy, a fair enough question. What I am trying to get at is the connection between wasps or bees and epilepsy.
Up until very recently I had always believed that my epilepsy was a form of super-bee. It had the ability to inflict a huge sting that could leave me completely debilitated, but if took the necessary precautions then I could prevent this neurological bee from stinging me, or at least prevent the majority of the stings (obviously some just came along, but I’ll ignore them because they don’t fit the analogy). If I had enough sleep every night, didn’t get too stressed, ate enough food then I could generally reduce the amount of times which I became ill, and how the epilepsy affected me. This patter seemed to continue, on and off, for about three years. There were periods of a month or two between different medication changes when I was ill as my body was adjusting to the new medication, but to a relatively large extent I was able to negate a lot of these symptoms. They never fully went I away, but I think that they really were subdued.
When the bee left me alone and I managed to patch myself together, regain my composure and return to normality for about a year to 18 months, and I was almost completely unaffected, besides the odd partial seizure there was not anything that made me think the bee was going to stay around. Recently I was stung, for the first time in about 18 months, and it came completely out of the blue. I was at school when I started feeling a tempest of emotions that revolved every five minutes, leaving me desperately isolated in a room full of friends. These overwhelming mood swings resulted in me crying heavily in the school nurse’s office. I was completely confused and worried, and I felt completely stranded and felt like I had been taken all the way back to stage 1, like I had the whole journey ahead of me, I felt incredibly low, and almost fell into depression.
For the first time in a long time I missed three straight days due to epilepsy, and I became worried about going to school. I could not rationalise any of the fears I was feeling, and got into the ruthless circle of being ill, and therefore getting stressed so much that I was ill again. The only positive that I could find was that at least it would allow for a good blog post.
What I am trying to get at is that I am worried, really quite worried, that my epilepsy may in fact be a wasp. I have taken so many precautions to calm my epilepsy, and stave off what I thought was a bee. Every school night I am in bed by ten, I eat healthily and am rarely stressed. Yet somehow I was submerged by something that I had no control over.
I am concerned, now, that epilepsy is a wasp, a wasp that will stay around for as long as it wants to, and will only leave once it has stung,
Looking back, I have probably always known that it was a wasp, but as mentioned in previous blogs, I forgot how bad it was after a while, but now that I am possible facing the prospect that it has returned I feel worried, and at mercy of this wasp that has controlled me for the majority of my teenage years.
I guess I better try to get a lucky shot in with a newspaper.
I hope you’re well, and that this little story has helped in any way,
Have a good weekend,
Rob.
I feel that this is quite a relevant quote, and it’s by Leo Tolstoy, who was awesome.
“One can no more approach people without love than one can approach bees without care. Such is the quality of bees…”
― Leo Tolstoy