Okay.

So, I can’t volitionally speak beyond (sometimes) “uh-uh” and “uh-huh” and assorted similar noises. (I’m not counting vocal tics. They’re first off not voluntary, and second off would often have been far ruder-sounding than anything I could have said on purpose.)

And, when I woke up on the phone, I was post-ictal. (I don’t know if you know what that means, so I linked to the Wikipedia article. Short version: It means that I was in a state of post-seizure confusion — really only semi-conscious — where I could barely make out the words being said to me and wasn’t in any state to formulate words in response even if I had been able to speak. In fact, post-ictal states can render people who can speak, unable to speak any more than I can. Including some other commenters on this post. So even in a speaking person it’s not a reasonable expectation that they could speak coherently after a seizure.)

I was still in a pretty confused state by the time the cops got to the door, and wasn’t in any state to work out what had happened or give an explanation that made any sense at all. (When in that level of confusion, I can sometimes come up with words I can type that sound right, but it doesn’t mean that what I said had anything to do with.. well.. anything. I didn’t even know what had happened, by the time they showed up, that came about half an hour later when I started to be able to think straight.)

And as to why dialing 911 when you’re not supposed to is wrong, of course I’m aware of that and of course that’s why I’m so anxious to give the explanation that you started out by saying I shouldn’t give.

I don’t even know what to say beyond that. I’m fighting really hard not to be snarky about people who expect non-speaking people in post-ictal states to make sense on the phone (not to mention sound properly courteous while we’re at it), and the assumption that the reason I didn’t do what would have made the situation the easiest is because I just don’t know any better than to not appear “rude, confusing, dysfunctional”.

This is also the only time the number I’ve called has been 911, if I didn’t make it clear. I don’t know what controls what numbers I’ve dialed, but I had no reason to expect this. It had been years since the last time this happened at all — and it’s always been normal 7-digit phone numbers before now. I still can’t think of any decent way to handle this other than to have information ready for emergency responders once they show up at the door (something that’s already being implemented) — and definitely can’t think of anything better to do, the first time this happened, than what I did. (That is — anything better that I could have done considering that I was only half conscious and therefore not capable of sitting there and reasoning things out. Even if I kept a tape recorder by the phone to play someone else’s voice explaining things or something like that, I really doubt that in a state that foggy I’d have been able to remember it existed or even understand what was happening enough to know it needed explanation.)

But… yeah, the expectations you have wouldn’t work for most epileptic people who have nothing else going on besides epilepsy.

I know this is a bit late now, but you do not need to explain anything to the cops. They really don’t deal with explanations. They moved on already when they left your door. It doesn’t matter what they might think of you, if they believed you, and so on. Now, if you want, you could consider that they did show up to check if you are allright, and send them flowers or bake them brownies or something, as thanks, if you are worried about what they might think about you. Otherwise, just forget it.

It might help if you prepare for the next day you dial 911, and the police shows up on your door. Have an open letter or something, where you explain that due to your condition you get these seizures and you do things like call a random number, and this time it happened to be 911, or something, give it to them, apologize and close the door.

BTW, “uh-uh” is never a good choice. “I was having a totally harmless and to me normal episode during which I unconsciously do things like call a random number. I’m sorry I dialed this number, but nothing is wrong, I’m fine, and now we need to leave this line open for someone who really needs it. Bye, and sorry, again.” Or something similar, perhaps shorter, something you can remember to say when you wake up talking with 911 again. “uh-uh” is rude, confusing, dysfunctional, and it wouldn’t unreasonable, if the operator thought you are just trying to be funny or something. Calling 911 without a real reason is criminal, and might result in fines and even jailtime.

So much that.

I have partial complex seizures too-right temporal lobe (but I have split dominance, so they don’t really behave like ‘usual’ right sided ones. Or left sided ones. Or…well, normal anything). And people are so…so…GAH about it. I had one at this restaurant that a group went to EVERY WEEK, and their selection of music was triggering them, and my friends were telling the powers that be that, no seriously, I was having an effing seizure.

The waitress and the manager? “That isn’t a seizure. I’ve seen them on TV and they don’t look like that.”

YES BECAUSE I AM CHOOSING TO DO THINGS THAT COULD SO GET ME ARRESTED ON SUSPECTED DRUG USE.

Dingleberries. All of them.

I think partial seizures in general (and TLE in particular, because it involves so many weird disruptions of emotion, perception, identity, and so forth) are probably the most misunderstood form of epilepsy. People can understand I’m having a seizure if my arms fling out or my body hits the ground, or even when I have absence seizures, but they don’t get it when I’m just acting confused (one of my classic things, totally unchanged through the years according to others, is apparently to constantly ask where I am and who I am and what’s going on, and to report being in this “other place” with various specific characteristics and “not be able to get out” and “want to get out” and stuff) or doing automatic but highly complex movements while technically unconscious.