Still alive. Barely. Legal.

This weekend has been a bit more healthy than the last. There have been no ER visits and I can still remember my life. I went to a neurologist last week and of course, the guy is African with a strong accent, whereby I can understand about 1 out of every 5 words he says. He wasn't all that helpful in pinpointing what caused my blackout, though he didn't fall on the floor and begin convulsing when I said I was planning on going to Korea next month, so that was a good sign, I guess. What he did order was a EEG, which is one of those tests where they strap electrodes on your head and check out your sexy brain waves. Oh and also, it was a sleep-deprived test, meaning that I had to stay awake all night until the test the next morning. As I was leaving the office, I asked the doctor if I could drink caffeine to help me stay awake and he laughs and says something like "Yeah sure, that's OK." I get to the front desk to checkout and the nurse who does the EEG's tells me I can't have any caffeine. Yeah, that's reassuring.
They told me beforehand the test wouldn't be painful and really it wasn't, but pain is a whole lot different than discomfort. And this was a uncomfortable experience. The whole point of the test is to try to make you have a seizure or freak out in an attempt to recreate what went wrong in your brain during the original episode.
The first part of the test, I'm lying on a table totally naked and there's this strobe light thing right above my eyes. Wait, I'm not naked. The light starts blinking, nurse tells me to open my eyes. A few seconds later, eyes closed. This goes on for 5 minutes, with the light getting brighter and blinking faster everytime. My brain remained online, but my eyes were watering more than they did than when James Braddock beat Max Baer. I'm pretty sure my shirt was soaked in my own tears. The light thing ended and I'm thinking, alright can't get worse than that. Hyperventilate for 5 minutes straight, you know what, I didn't think that would be all that difficult. God, it's fucking breathing. I can handle that. I couldn't. About 30 seconds in, I was about to jump off the table and smack the nurse in the face. 3 minutes left, you're doing great. Are you fucking kidding me? I've only been doing this for 2 minutes? Kill me. At this point, I also have some sort of electricity running through my body, so my fingers and toes are tingling and I can't tell if that is from the crazy breathing or the crap strapped to my head. I thought I was going to pass out. But I made it, somehow. Then get this, it's time for a nap! Apparently that was the point of the sleep-deprived thing, to make me be able to fall asleep during the exam. I don't care if I had been awake for 6 years, there was no way in hell I was going to nod off after that traumatic episode. I pretended to be asleep, but filthy nurse slut knew it from looking at the brain waves.
I have another neurologist appointment this week, where I'll get the results of blood work and the EEG, if I can decode what the doctor says. When I went running yesterday, I felt light headed on the verge of collapsing, which may have been caused by the heat, my pathetic body, or my fucked up brain. I guess we'll see.
It's funny how quick things change. Two blog entries ago, I was saying I'd never be able to use up my remaining three sick days at the H-P. Yeah, well, there are all gone now. I gave my two weeks notice on Thursday, my last day is the 14th. I really can't imagine myself doing any sort of real work from here on out.
Oh, and yes, I've given up completely on new photos. It's classic homosexual erotica from here on out.