Living With Epilepsy: Part 2 Dealing With Abuse & Rejection

Continued from http://progressiveu.org/blog/50624-living-epilepsy-part-1-diagnosis

I am an unconventional person. I think outside-the-box usually. My unconventional attitude shines through in all aspects of my life. Particularly healthcare. I never liked taking medicine. When I became an adult I refused conventional medicines as much as possible and ate alot of chicken soups and orange juice. For someone who was sick frequently during childhood and had a mother constantly shoving spoonfuls of nasty cherry syrup and pink syrup down my throat, it was surprising that illnesses became less and less common. It was even rare to see me take a pain reliever. The women in my life find me strange because I went through natural childbirth three times without any pain relievers. Well, that's the kind of person I am.
When I was told I would have to take medication for the rest of my life it felt like a death sentence. At that point in time I don't recall ever feeling depression like I had then. I no longer knew what to do with myself. To further complicate matters the doctors explained that if a person is started on an anti-seizure medication and they are not really epileptic and at some point down the road they come off the medication it could cause them to become epileptic. Basically, they really didn't know if I was epileptic. I found out years later that coming off medication does not cause epilepsy itself but can cause a seizure. The bottom line is that I was in a catch 22 situation.
Still in pain from damaged teeth and lacerations on my tongue we left the hospital and we went to a asian restaurant, I love asian food. Unfortunately with the condition my mouth was in it was painful to eat. I attempted to eat and burned my tongue when the food touched the cuts. I couldn't chew because my teeth were loose. Plus I was fearful of the possibility of accidentally biting my tongue right off. My mother sympathized with me.
We went home and I stepped on the scale. I was wearing my new jeans and they felt quite snug. It had been a couple days since I purchased them. The scale showed I gained 5 pounds. I became more depressed. My mother said the weight gain was from being in the hospital.
I received flowers and a card from Painters and Allied Trades Union that my husband belonged too. My brother-in-law, Dan, bought me a porcelain doll. It was all well and good but it didn't help. You see, my husband was avoiding me. He didn't seem to want anything to do with me. I started sleeping on the futon in the living room. My husband, who prior to this, was an alcoholic, began staying out after work drinking more regularly.
The next day after I got home I broke out with a rash from head to toe. I called my doctor. I had to go back to the office and I was taken off Dilantin and put on Depakote. This was the very pitiful situation I found myself. I had already filled the prescription for Dilatin. Now I had to fill a new prescription for Depakote. We had insurance at the time so the co-pay was only a wopping $15 and at the time my husband was pulling around $2000 biweekly. However we were never able to make it from paycheck to paycheck. So I was extremely terrified to tell him that I needed a new prescription. He claimed he didn't have any money. That was either true because he probably drank it all or was saving it so he could drink it. I told him to ask his brother Jim. He b!tched that he wasn't going to ask him for anything. We got into a heated fight resulting in him telling me how much of an inconvenience I was and other choice names. I stood there cried and tore my medical bracelet off my arm and broke it and through it in the trash. I cried and cried. Eventually, I gathered myself up and left while my husband yelled that I better not be going to his brother's. I walked downtown and found Jim sitting at the local pizza eatery with his best friend ~ a pitcher of a beer. I was cautious. Should I continue my attempt? I had no choice. I went in and told him my predicament. He reluctantly loaned me the $20. I walked to the pharmacy next door to our apartment and picked up my prescription.
I relunctantly slumped home but I was proud of myself for sticking up for me. I needed to take care of me.