This afternoon I had an EEG scheduled. I was not a happy camper. I admit that I absolutely detest all medical buildings and the people that inhabit them. Just thinking about going to one puts me in a horrible state of anxiety. Shout the word "Hospital!", and I'm bound to bolt out the door before the "p" sound creates the natural lisp sound in the word. When you've been to as many doctors as I have you tend to notice that most medical personnel are simply smart sheep. It sounds like an oxymoron, but let me assure you that it's possible to both be someone that is complacent and someone that is smart.
But, I digress. On my way to the EEG room I snagged a 'Neurology Now' magazine. I'm always on the lookout for information and when I see a free magazine like this one I take it so I can examine it later for sources.
A portly man with a mousy brown comb over escorted me to the cluttered and slightly unseemly exam room with a cheap mirror bolted to the wall with plastic hooks and yellow fluorescent lights that instantly offended my eyes. He asked me to sit in a leather backed chair which was located next to a box of wires that were meant for my head. He began attaching them and the glue's chemical composition changed the entire smell of the room. My eyes began to water and I coughed. He paid me no mind and continued to apply the glue and attach a wire. I asked him to open a door and ignored me so I asked him again. He impatiently cracked open a door and continued with what he was doing. Bill had followed me into the room, but I told him to go sit out in the waiting room where he wouldn't get chemical poisoning. Yes, the odor and fumes were that bad.
My head pounded, the wires were attached and he asked me to lay down and covered me with a sheet. I was told I could lay on my stomach or my side or however I was comfortable as long as I closed my eyes. I lay as still as I could. It was uncomfortable laying there. I couldn't find a comfortable place for my arm or my hand. My back was doing that movement thing again and my right shoulder and hand weren't cooperating either. I was in pain, too, so that didn't help either. I actually wanted to go to sleep just so I could do something since I was bored sitting there without anything to do but sleep. Just as I was drifting off to sleep he woke me and told me to lie on my back. Then the strobe lights started. Omigawd, they hurt like a bitch. I am extremely sensitive to light. I thought I was going to start crying, but I didn't. I did, however, have convulsions. When it was over I slowly walked to the waiting room to meet Bill. I was exhausted and my head hurt and I felt like I was going to throw up.
Bill got me a sparkling water and I looked at the Neurology Now* magazine I had picked up in the doctor's office. On the front cover the words, "Does medical marijuana ease neurologic symptoms?" popped out at me.
Omigoodness! I didn't even read the magazine when I picked it up! What a happy, happy gift from the universe! The article discusses the promise of medical marijuana and a highly respectable neuropsychiatrist from a respectable university (I can't remember which one right now) states that marijuana shows much promise and there is much need for independent neurological research studies! I know it's not a coop, but it's a step in the right direction and that makes me KNOW that I'm doing the right thing. In my heart (and that's what's taking over these days) I KNOW that I am going to have a way better quality of life than anyone that chooses the ineffective, yet dangerous yellow pill road.
It's good to feel the certainty that I now feel. And it's good to remember that EVERYTHING happens for a reason. It gives me a little more peace to know that my journey will not just be a bit more secure, but my step will be light as well!
*Neurology Now articles are available for free online and for your iPad. See the above link.