Tripping on hyperventilation

If I ever decide I want to Trip on Tulips, I’ll just hyperventilate for three minutes with my eyes closed.

I had my EEG Friday afternoon at St. Luke’s in Meridian. Other than all the torture tests they put me through, it was really rather pleasant. At my last EEG, the woman was sitting in the room with me, and the monitor was right next to my head. At this one, I was in a comfy recliner with the lights completely out, and the EEG girl was in the room next door. Made for a nice short nap.

The thing I love most about the EEGs is all the stuff they do to your scalp. They measure your head, mark different spots according to the measurements, and then scrub those little spots with a soap that must be full of cayenne pepper, because it burns a little (only for a few minutes). Then they go through and put gritty goop on the same spots — feels like some kind of gel mixed with baking soda. They stick all the electrodes to the goop and wrap your head in a towel so the electrodes don’t peel themselves off.

So the EEG girl (who does those? Radiologists? Brain specialists? I don’t know.) got my head ready, reclined my chair, gave me a pillow, turned out the lights, and left the room. She came on over a speaker and told me to open my eyes, close my eyes, open my eyes, close my eyes. Then it was time for mandatory hyperventilation. That part is always fun. You have to keep your eyes closed and breathe in and out deeply for three minutes. In through the mouth, out through the mouth. Try it for thirty seconds — it’s harder than it sounds. Your throat gets dry, you want water, and you really need to swallow, but you can’t, because what if you screw up the EEG because you couldn’t handle the breathing part of the drill? I did fine during the hyperventilation, just concentrated on *not* breathing through my nose. And then the hyperventilation ended. Invisible Voice Girl told me I could breathe normally again and relax, because I would get to nap for the next fifteen or so minutes. My eyes were still closed, and I decided I would take advantage of naptime. As I settled in, something really funky happened. First I started seeing my own face slowly transform from Normal SarahK Face to Comic Book SarahK Face, which I didn’t know existed. As I watched myself morph, a new player came onto the screen: Comic Book Monster. I assume that at some later point, Comic Book SarahK Face would face off with Comic Book Monster, but I can’t be sure, because the pictures stopped. Then began the Purple Windshield Wipers. Bright vivid purple started washing over my eyes in the motion that your windshield wipers move the rain off your windshield, except these wipers started at the tops of my eyelids and moved in downward motions. Fuh-reaky. I watched the color show for a minute or so, and then I was done. Asleep.

Invisible Voice Girl came in and put the strobe light in front of my face. My eyes were still closed, and she went in the other room and did several minutes of light show for me, trying to trigger seizures. After that test was over, she watched my brain for another minute or two and then came in to tell me I was all done.

I spent the rest of the day at work, occasionally picking crusty goop out of my hair.

If my doctor doesn’t call with results today, I’ll call him. I don’t like all this waiting.

9 Responses to Tripping on hyperventilation

  1. Groovy. It’s like you felt like a hippie, without the actual annoyance of being a hippie.

    Now you can mock hippies authoritatively, and when they accuse you of being a hippiehawk (or whatever the term is, maybe “hippiedove”?) you can say “Screw you, hippie – I tripped medically and it’s no excuse for socialism, drug abuse, and massive state-run programs. Now go ‘way or I’ll show you which end of my gun gives out free bullets.”

  2. PS – sorry about using a certain wall-fastener in its slang sense implying carnal knowledge. It’s an in-joke in my home: “S***w you, hippeh!” I mean no offense.

  3. PPS – apparently something went into moderation and now nothing at all makes any sense whatsoever in these comments. I’m going to sneak off in shame now.

  4. I hope you find out what you need to know.

  5. I enjoyed it Nightfly… Thanks for the good laugh!

  6. SarahK– Good luck. I hope you get only good news!
    PS– does wheat being harvested cause a reaction?– they are harvesting 2 fields behind me and from my top window, I can see the gluten haze coming my way… I’m a bit concerned…I have a big day tomorrow, I don’t want to feel icky ;>(

  7. Tha fly, you were in moderation. But you never make sense anyway.

    Sillya, I wouldn’t take any deep breaths outside…

    Thanks, y’all.

  8. hope you get good news, sarahk!

  9. Ever do the 8 hour EEG? 8 hours in a dark room, eyes closed and no falling asleep. Gah.

    Talk about torture.