Fall down Seven times, get up eight... Japanese Proverb

Last Friday I had an EEG put on for 72 hours (supposedly). Now my trials and tribulations with this test are growing exponentially. I was originally to have it put on several weeks ago, but the technician felt unsafe to come to work because of an earthquake in Virginia to do the test. Now mind you people in Richmond Virginia were still at work at this time and they were at the epicenter of this event. So I wait patiently for the next appointment which was Friday.

     If you ever have the option of getting this test done, don't. It is a huge inconvenience to your life. You have wires coming out of your head and every time you move one of them feels like they are getting pulled off... When you try to sleep, and I really do mean try, you roll onto a box that is recording all of the information or are worried that all of these wires will wrap around your neck and asphyxiate you in your sleep (Now some of you might be into that, but I am not).

     So I spend my weekend unable to do much because of all of these wires. Monday arrives and I head in early to have this borg like device taken off of me only to find that nothing was recorded. This could mean one of two things; I have no brain functions (which many would say is true) or the machine did not work. So a 72 hour EEG  turns into a 144 hour EEG.

     I sat in the chair while they checked to see if the new one was actually recording and that I do have brain functions. As I sat there looking at the lines moving up and down on the screen, I wondered... Can the doctor see my cold seething fury in those lines? Is there a certain spike that can be deciphered as my hatred for all these tests and set backs? Does the machine know I want to rage against it?

     I am writing this while still feeling this cold fury for all things medical, but I am starting to come down from that Seething High one gets whenever you feel like you want to destroy something beautiful...

     I know I need the test... even though it will show nothing, like all of the other tests.

     So as I get knocked down over and over again. I get back up like the punch drunk fighter refusing to stay down for the count, thinking maybe one more haymaker may connect and change the outcome...


Yo Tommy, I didn't hear no bell...  get up son of a bitch because Micky love me... One more round... just one more round... I keep saying to myself...

More to come after my spinal tap (and hopefully more movie references from it).