When You Start Freezing and Falling Down
Mitch McConnell and My Husband
It’s in the news that Mitch McConnell froze during a press conference the other day. People are concerned. They’re saying that he’s fallen down a few times recently too.
There could be some sort of underlying problem, or, like my husband, the medical community might just throw up their hands and say, “Well, we really don’t know what happened. Just take it easy.”
My husband had a grand mal seizure in 1993. It was in our car, which was a stick shift. The car stalled in the middle of a busy lunchtime intersection. Had the car been an automatic, it would probably have kept rolling until he hit something. The seizure was strong enough that it broke his back in three places. He ended up in a body cast, and once his back healed, my husband had lost two inches in height, which was actually a sort of funny story.
I had to alter Dennis’ pants while he wore the body cast. I cut the back seam and inserted a large triangle of fabric so he could go out in public. It was difficult for him to go up and down the steps to our place, but he managed. After the cast came off, we decided to get him some pants. His favorite place is Men’s Wearhouse, where he gets to talk to male salespeople who would measure and advise him. Well, he knew his size, so there was no need to confer with anybody.
We walked in. He picked out a few pairs, and we left. He did not try them on. No, sir. He knew his size. So, at home, he tries them on, and the first pair dragged on the floor. Bear in mind, he’d lost two inches in height, though we did not know that until after he’d tried on all the pairs of pants. There was much discussion about how someone had mislabeled the pants until the light bulb went off for the two of us, and I measured his height.
The doctors never found any incidence of a brain tumor or epilepsy, but they treated him with Dilantin, which helps with seizures.
As time went on, he would occasionally have a seizure here or there. He was a marathon runner only because he liked to run, and the doctors told him he’d never run again after he broke his back.
That got him angry. You don’t tell Dennis no.
He’s run many half marathons and, I think, eight full marathons since then.
In the last several years, we noticed that when he was tired or in a stressful situation, he might have a seizure. There were several that happened at work. People wanted to know what to do if he had one, and he said, “Just let me be. I’ll get up in a little bit.” And he did.
Sometimes, his bladder would let go, and that was concerning for him. So, we keep an extra pair of pants in the trunk of the car for him.
Only once did he have a seizure in front of me. We were sitting in the living room watching television. Normally, he, the man of the house, would have control of the channel changer, though these days, I have my own. In the novelty of having two working remotes, I would play jokes on him and take the batteries out of his remote and then, out of sight, work my remote. One television broke, and the replacement was the same brand, so both remotes worked on the new television. Every little thing is amusing in this house.
But that evening, he started racing through the different stations. He kept going past those shows I knew he would be interested in. There was no pause to consider what was being offered. It was just this pell-mell race through the channels. He was having a seizure.
I leaned over from my chair and said, “Dennis? Are you okay, honey?”
There was no response. Just my husband staring intently at the screen, changing the channels with his remote. I got up and looked at him and realized what was going on. I’d never seen it before. He’d told me of the times he was giving presentations, and people would, as they did with Mitch McConnell yesterday, gently guide him away. I put my hands on my husband’s knee and said, “Dennis? It’s okay. You’re just having a seizure. It’s okay.”
He eased up after a minute or so. He was shaking. He was weak. He said he was fine, though he could not talk very well. But that all came back within 15 minutes. He said, “Just let me sit here. I just need a minute.” I let him sit. When he wanted to get up, I was at his side.
Did he go to the doctor the next day? Hell, no. I made him call, though. It’s all matter of fact. Now, they are saying he’s never had a seizure. Now, the doctors can’t find a thing wrong with him. In the 31 years since he had that first big seizure, they have never been able to figure out what happened.
He tries to avoid tense situations, like with the people he works with. He has learned through the years how to stay calm, cool, and collected. That helps a lot. He is slowing down now.
During Covid, he lost a few jobs. One was a hostile takeover where the people left standing turned on him. We learned a lot about his condition and decided that quietly walking away from the battle was going to save his life, and he would be there to fight another day if he wanted to. The other job was temporary. He is 74 years old now, and it’s just time to slow down. He might have died in 1993 when that horrible first fist of a seizure reached out to him, but he did not.
If you’ve got something like that going on in your life and you’re getting older? Count your blessings. Give your partner and friends a kiss out of nowhere every once in a while. We really, none of us know how long we’re going to be around, and every moment you have is precious.