Jo Murphey The Murphey Saga |
I've talked about my inappropriate responses on this blog for over a year. It has a name that I haven't discussed yet. It's called Psuedobulbar Affect (PBA). You may have seen recent television commercials about it recently. Now you are meeting someone afflicted with it. It's not depression.
It's a side effects of my stroke. No, I'm not crazy for laughing for no apparent reason, or bursting into torrential sobs at someone saying "boo," or going ballistic with rage when you drop a pin. I just can't help myself and I have no control over it either. No I'm not exaggerating or taking an author's license.
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I can start crying for no apparent reason or laugh outrageously over something sad. Even if it is as image that I saw on television months ago of one of those starving children. All it takes is the picture to flutter through in my mind. The same thing goes with laughter and anger, or any emotional response. It is beyond appropriate to the extreme. I can laugh until I can't breathe and pee my pants. We used to joke about one of our daughters who would get so tickled that she always ran from the room saying, "I gotta pee!" Well I can't run nor have significant control of my bladder so I'll pee my panties.
My family and friends look at me with concern and ask if I'm okay. My usual response is an attempted nod of my head and a wave of my hand until I finally get control back. It can last several seconds or several minutes. That's why most of the events I go to revolve around family. I rarely go places surrounded by strangers because they will not understand what is going on. But I'm lucky, I have a huge family.
If it happens in public, I always have family or friends who will talk me down off the ledge. They will laughingly tell the truth to strangers, "She's okay. She's brain damaged." It gets some strange looks and people will sidle away with questionable looks and hope it's not catching. By the same token, I burst into tears at The Olive Garden one night because they ran out of what I wanted. It was like someone had told me my favorite dog had died. The poor waitress. Luckily that particular episode didn't last too long.
- Embarrassing? Oh yes!
- Will it scar me for life? Nope because I realize it is part of my stroke affects me and not really me. It's no stranger than my AFO, cane, the way my arm won't move, or the way I speak. Although I will admit it is disconcerting to others.
- Stand out in a crowd? Yep, I sure do more than my physical impairments. But then, I've always considered myself as a unique being in a crowd of dull people anyhow.
- Isn't there anything that can be done to fix this? Nope there isn't a cure. All they can do is prescribe drugs to ease the response. It doesn't stop it from happening. It's how my brain functions since the stroke.
- I refuse to hide under a rock.
- I refuse to die.
- I refuse to give up trying to be better.
- I refuse to be ashamed of myself because of my circumstances.
- Won't you join me?
Nothing is impossible with determination.
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