What's the Dealio?

Late research has shown that music can help lessen the severity of seizures. Woot! Is it a particular type? Like, should I make an entire list of classical pieces (Pieces, mind, not songs, because heaven forfend that one should call music by such plebeian terms.) Well, pick your poison. Which puts you into a fighty mood and gets you moving? Which calms you? We have: Exhibit A: A classic "PIECE" as brought to you by PBS, your fourth grade music teacher, Camille Saint-Säens, and Disney's Fantasia:
 Exhibit B: Autobots, rock out! Classic metal. There's a theme here.

 For me, it's both. (My musical flavors are quite a mixture!)
 And exercise can help with episodes. Please try to ensure hydration and at least 3 good meals. Protein and fats do my body good. Lots of protein. Be careful of carbs, but you'll need to ensure all is balanced. I try to get 43 grams of protein daily. I also tend to survive on hummus mixed into a lot of foods, not just with my beloved cucumbers. Start slow. More on this as it develops. What else helps me? I keep a set of these: the sound is fantastic and the ear thingies are adjustable. Only $15 and well worth every penny. Note on link: I got mine on sale at Office Max.

Skull Candy Ink'd 2 Earbuds 

If traveling, eat well, drink up. Don't be afraid to bother the airline and ask about policies. Reserve a wheel chair just in case, even if you never use it. Be cautious, be gentle with yourself, but it needn't be more of a chore to travel for you than it is for anyone else. Half the fun is getting there, they say (God, I hope not!) Ask about policies, what emergency medications are available, about training. Fill out a card for the TSA, wear medical alert jewelry. I have a heart charm bracelet and a wallet card. They will likely look for, and let you keep on a medical alert bracelet, over a necklace.

Now, dating? That's another tale, but you shouldn't have to be different from most. Yup, you'll be carting around serious meds, and no grapefruit breakfasts for you! (No Earl Grey tea, either, which kind of sucked.) Some people won't get it. Some will. Keep going. My thanks to those who've seen me go down and still are there for me. And who cheer me on... I've got a few more hurdles to go over. 

Holy Toxic Green Sewer Sludge, Batman!

I get scared when people congratulate me or say I did well. That if you show some people, they're going to ask who did it FOR me. I did really well on this thing for class... A stupid little thing that apparently, almost no one puts effort into. I'm embarrassed... It wasn't that much work. So I threw it away. When people ask my opinion or for help for things and call me a nice young lady, it's scary. "Please don't look at me. I'm not here." Like, father buying flowers for his daughter... Picks me out PROBABLY because I was the only person NEAR the bloody flowers and saw that I was interested and comparing things. I was also surprised to find that 1) Mums aren't always a ghastly dark brown/ orange color. They have light colored ones. My family seems fond of dark colors and I find them really overwhelming. I liked the white, pink, and purple ones a lot. The toxic sludge green ones, though... I was surprised to see how many decor ideas involved them; they look like boogers on a stick. (The other name of my imaginary heavy metal band, if Demonic Splurge is taken.) 2)That being asked to help, offering help, and even suggesting: "does your daughter like all sorts of flowers? There's really cool cacti outside that doesn't cost very much" is bad, and somehow I sinned. Is "there's cacti outside" some sort of sexual slang I don't know about? All I did was try to help some poor dude who knows nothing about girly things buy a stupid present for his daughter (I was the only person there, until my mother showed up from somewhere else in the store. I am never letting her make me go shopping after our weekly dinner out EVER AGAIN. Dinner, appointment, home. She will never "help" me again.) I didn't know that I was being bad and proud. I thought I was helping. Then I had to explain what "cacti" is to my mother (I know she's smarter than that! That horrible creepy woman who appeared one day like a Mexican night induced fart in the night and refuses to dissipate, really gets into every crevice of her mind and she won't show the person that actually tries and thinks!) and wonder what she THOUGHT I meant. I had to actually draw her a damn diagram! She is insisting that I never say that I want to speak for myself again. I intend to keep filling her head, because now, it's personal.

Neurons and Fortissimo, and Adagio... Oh, My!

Music and neurology:
Do they go together like a horse and carriage?

I was fascinated, some time last year, by the image of a man undergoing brain surgery while playing the banjo (it sounds like a House plot point... in fact, I think they did something similar with a piano keyboard and a "savant"- someone who might not be able to be trusted to tie their own shoes or to go across the street, but can play music that would make Calliope, the muse, cry in joy.)
This man is not a savant, but his music is beautiful. Last night, Youtube threw me a recommendation that made my ears perk up: (It's opera, which is on the other end of the scale, musically, but my rather eccentric music lists tend to throw folk, opera and metal at me as a matter of course.) Stephen Fry, and his cohost on QI, which I recommend for everyone, meet for opera, and to discuss music and the nervous system with a group of varying neurologists. Davies is known to PLAY the part of the childlike, charming idiot (A part also played to perfection by Fry's 30+ year colleague, Hugh Laurie prior to his American debut. It's what makes House a bit... disturbing and weird for me.) This is a definite front, despite Davies looking a lot like a sweet, curly puppy. His reaction to opera is innocent, wide eyed, and you can definitely see his reactions. What does music do to us? What does music do FOR us? I think everyone's experience is going to be different... this is really obvious, but my spine might tingle hearing "Danse Macabre", while someone else might think, "Yeah, yeah, dancing skeletons, yawn, we had to watch this in 4th grade." (I saw one version with dancers in sheer browns and greens... very beautiful. You have the motif where it's very soft and sweet, and Death's violin isn't playing a creepy dance, but accompaniment to love.)Your spine might find Metallica partnering with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra to be tingle inducing. (It IS interesting, I'll admit, but it was in the sell out stage. ) What makes you move, what makes you close your eyes in joy? Does it heal your mind and body?