Ow! My neoplasm!

I had a minor partial seizure around 5 p.m. at work yesterday. My boss hung out with me as I took Ativan and slinked to the floor--assuming the "holy shit I could be flailing in a second" pose.

I counted down from 100, subtracting by the number 7. Around the mid-40s I was totally out of it and D.C. (my boss) coached me through the math game.

Genius.

Good timing as far as the seizure is concerned because I am going to see Dr. P tomorrow--my favorite tough-guy neurologist. (You know, the one who told me to stop crying about stupid shit and start worrying about more important things, like saving my life. I love doctors who tell it like it is.)