My First Seizure

feeling cute at work

My first Grand Mal happened at work. Woohoo! How embarrassing... I guess it could have been worse. I could have been by myself, possibly even suffocated and died. Almost everything I know about that day has been told to me. 

The last thing I remember doing was buying a shirt at work on my break because mine had gotten something on it. Maybe makeup, since I work in the cosmetic department, but knowing me, it was probably coffee. 

I bought a dark green shirt, one that I ended giving away because of the PTSD I developed. The weirdest part is, I don't wear green. I don’t even have color in my closet, just black and more black. I have been in cosmetics my whole life, and for people who don’t know, black is your uniform. I don’t mind because it’s also my favorite color, so I can wear my work clothes out and vice versa. 

Anyway, the next thing I know I’m on a stretcher unable to breath. Choking, suffocating... I think I’m in the women’s restroom. There’s firemen, police, is that my store manager? She looks familiar. What is happening? Everything is blurry and confusing.

Apparently, a coworker had said hi to me, earlier, downstairs in Cosmetics. I’m the Beauty Stylist, so I tend to wander throughout the department, but I never responded to her. That’s not normal. I’m pretty friendly and I like my job. She said she followed me for a few seconds and asked if I was okay, and that I looked at her with dead eyes and said I didn’t feel good. "I don’t feel well. I don’t feel well. Something is wrong", I said to her. 

This is when she took me to the family bathroom, where I banged on the door incessantly despite there being someone in there. I have no recollection of this. None of it. She took me to the women’s restroom where I refused to lock my bathroom door (your subconscious can be a powerful thing). After a few seconds of going into the stall, I seized. I fell, smacked my head on the toilet and marble floor, with my pants down. Yep. She and probably a few other ladies got more than they bargained for that morning. Fortunately for me there was a nurse in the ladies room. What luck! And that was the beginning of my story with Clonic-Tonics.


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