A Question of Balance.

It seems, the more medications I take to quiet my seizures, the less balanced I become.

I can’t count the numbers of bruises all over my body in any given month, from tipping into the edge of a cabinet or thwacking against some other hard surface.

And, it has always been so.

To the right is an artwork by Sean Brown,
titled Yoga Firefly, and it suggests the kind of physical balance I would like to achieve, but which seems to elude me. Unlike the subject of Brown's piece, I am far less in control of my balance, and it is not nor has it ever been a question of desire.

For me, as is true for so many of us who take drugs for E., the balance we hope for is one between function and seizure control: can we take the right amount of AEDs to quiet our seizures and yet have enough bodily control to be able to cross a room without catastrophe? I have to say, there are times when I feel I am at the very edge of that delicate edge, praying my fingernails will hold out long enough for me to retain the bit of balance I have achieved.

But, balance hasn't only to do with gait. There are also things like grip---ask my husband. Whenever I do the dishes, he worries. Any crash-like sound coming from the kitchen could be me, starring in yet another disaster. To date I can say that I have broken enough glassware for about half-a-million weddings. Yet, no one has wished me well or shouted congratulations to me.