This weekend, I experienced the single scariest thing that has ever happened to me. I write about this, not for attention, but for the clarity and understanding I hope it will one day provide.
James and I started having "date night," either on Friday or Saturday. It's a night when we can spend time, just us, to relax and enjoy each other's company. I've made big strides in my life in the last six weeks (more on that later), and this has been instrumental in my life changes.
This week, we decided to check out Steele, an Asian/sushi place in the Plaza Midtown condo complex off West Peachtree. We LOVE sushi, so it seemed perfect.
As we prepared to leave the condo, I started seeing spots, like I'd looked at the light in the mirror too long. No big deal.
By the time we arrived at Steele, less than 1.5 miles away, I'd lost my peripheral vision.
After we sat down, within 10 minutes, I couldn't feel my right hand, save the sporadic tingle.
In 10 more minutes, my hand was fine.
In 10 additional minutes, I couldn't feel the lower right half of my face.
In 10 more minutes, I was fine.
Soon after we'd sat down, I started getting a little spacey. I couldn't remember little details about our upcoming Vegas vacation. No big deal, though, as we've never been and I don't know much about the city.
As James' and my conversation progressed, it became apparent that something was wrong. I could not remember common information -- the name of the Hoover Dam, the Bellagio, gondola rides and the Venetian. One of my favorite artists is Dale Chihuly, and while I can tell you most anything about his career, I couldn't remember his name. I couldn’t' tell you the name of our friend who lives with us, the name of one of my best friend's fiancées nor write the name of the street on which I live.
When it became clear that something was awry, we decided to go to the ER. However, by the time we arrived at the car -- I was fine. I knew all I had not known a mere 10 minutes prior. Even more, I knew the surprise at my prior condition; I knew something had been wrong, and I could explain that I had been conscious of it the entire time, despite my inability to articulate even the most simple point.
I went to the doctor on Monday – he could find nothing wrong, but could only suggest what I feared, the worst – possible stroke, inappropriate stress, aneurysm, brain spasm – all things that a 24-year-old should never experience. All things that my young husband and parents should not have to experience.
Yet here we all are, experiencing the unexperiencable… and for the first time, I feel like I can legitimately ask – why me?