As the storm passed through...

For the first time since I had deep brain stimulation (DBS), I had a storm at work.  I was the spectacle of the office, especially to the folks who started there in more recent years.  I could barely talk through it.

Right ear to right shoulder, right arm curling in, and writhing in discomfort, I barely put a dent in my workload today.  At first I ignored the worsening.  If you don't think too much about symptom worsening or occupy your brain in a way that draws your mind away from an exacerbation, the discomfort sometimes dissipates.   This just wasn't the case for me today.

As I noticed my symptoms start to get worse, I went into our conference room and just put my head down on the table and closed my eyes in the dark. Sometimes a good cry helps.  The next time someone tells you crying won't solve anything, tell them it just might help a dystonic storm!  After a five minute "good cry" I felt a little better and went back to my desk.  I started working again, trying to just ignore all of this.

A girl from the office made this incredibly delicious cake and I decided I'd try a piece in lieu of having my lunch.  I poured myself a cup of coffee and went back to my desk.  My sideways head kind of missed the cup, and I spilled coffee all  over the front of my (fortunately black) dress.  I was slightly irritated at this point.  

The guy who sits in the cube next to me kept asking what he could do to help.  I couldn't even tell him "nothing" as the muscles strangled the right side of my neck.  Some sort of strange sounds came out of my mouth, but not words.   As I used all of my physical and mental strength to force my head upright, the vertebrae in my neck cracked loudly. "Don't do that!" he exclaimed.  

Okay, how about a joke?  I was able to agree to that.  He proceeded to tell a really bad, cheesy joke.  I burst out laughing.  I suppose laughter is the best medicine.  I was able to then, in a strained voice, tell him that I felt like I was being strangled and that this used to happen to me often, but not since having DBS.  He asked when it would stop.  I told him I didn't know... that eventually I'd pass out from the exhaustion of fighting it.

When I got home from work, that's exactly what I did.  Now here I am again.  Fighting this never ending battle.