I finally had to admit defeat this week and own up to the fact that the anti-epilepsy meds they put me on when this condition started last year just don’t suit me. I persevered as long as I could, because quite often I felt perfectly fine (good, in fact), and I knew it takes a while to get exactly the right balance of dosage. I didn’t want to give up because it was a little difficult. I didn’t want to be that person.
I had to keep edging the daily dosage level up to fend off the seizures, and then make sure I didn’t even get those wonderful, euphoric flutters of nostalgic bliss (a bad sign, apparently - another avenue of pleasure closed off), and with each increase came a few days of depression.
In the last month or so, the depression’s become a much harder thing to work around. I can live with all the stupid little side-effects, but feeling devastatingly miserable for no reason at all, and being unable to follow any thread whatsoever has finally made me pull the ejector handle.
So I now have a fun-filled few weeks while I swap from one brand to another, decreasing one medication while I increase the other. I may be entering a brief zone of uncharted floopiness. Deep breath. Here goes.
In other news, work is going well (parts of it have been going well in ways I can’t write about yet), and I’ve been thinking about sticking up an exclusive extract of Prospero Burns here on the blog sometime soon. Would that be a popular move?
Oh, and for those of you who were asking, Sinister Dexter returns to 2000AD in Prog #1693, on sale July 14th. The story is called The Why-Shaped Cut, and has huge consequences for our gunshark heroes and the future of the ubercity of Downlode. Miss it at your peril, you scuzzpuck funts. I mean that in a nice way, obviously.
Meanwhile, there’s still time to catch Paul Cornell’s splendid pilot (yes, let’s be confident and call it a pilot) Pulse on BBC3 iPlayer, and may I also recommend Your Hate Mail Will Be Graded, which collects the best from ten years of John Scalzi’s blog and shows how shit like the preceding three hundred and ninety words should be done.