[pg 7]
CHAPTER II
RARER TYPES OF EPILEPSY
If it be true that: "One half the world does not know how the
other half lives", how true also is it that one half the world does not
know, and does not care, what the other half suffers?
Epilepsy shows every gradation, from symptoms which cannot be
described in language, to severe grand mal. Gowers says: "The
elements of an epileptic attack may be extended, and thereby be made less
intense, though not less distressing. If we conceive a minor attack that
is extended, and its elements protracted, with no loss of consciousness,
it would be so different that its epileptic nature would not be
suspected. Swiftness is an essential element of ordinary epilepsy, but
this does not prevent the possibility of deliberation."
In Serial Epilepsy, a number of attacks of grand mal
follow one another, with but very brief intervals between. Serial
epilepsy often ends in
Status Epilepticus, in which a series of grand mal
attacks follow one another with no conscious interval. The temperature rises slowly, the pulse becomes rapid and feeble, the breathing rapid,
shallow, and irregular, and death usually occurs from exhaustion or heart failure. Though not invariably fatal, the condition is so very
grave that a doctor must instantly be summoned. Nearly all victims of severe, confirmed epilepsy (25 percent of all epileptics) die in status epilepticus.
Jacksonian Epilepsy, named after Hughlings Jackson, [pg 8] who in 1861
traced its symptoms to their cause, is not a true epilepsy, being due to
a local irritation of the cortex (the outermost layer) of the brain.
There is usually an aura before the attack, often a tingling or
stabbing pain. The chief symptoms are convulsions of certain limbs or
areas of the body, which, save in very severe cases, are confined to one
side, and are not attended by loss of consciousness.
The irritation spreads to adjacent areas, as wavelets spread from a
stone thrown into a pond, resulting in convulsions of other limbs
following in sequence, all confined to one side.
As every part of the brain is connected to every other part by
"association fibres", in very violent attacks of Jacksonian epilepsy the
irritation spreads to the other side of the brain also, consciousness is
lost, the convulsions become general and bilateral, and the patient
presents exactly the same picture as if the attack were due to grand
mal.
All degrees of violence are seen. The convulsions may consist only of
a rapid trembling, or the limb or limbs may be flung about like a
flail.
Jackson said: "The convulsion is a brutal development of a man's own
movements, a sudden and excessive contention of many of the patient's
familiar motions, like winking, speaking, singing, moving, etc." These
acts are learned after many attempts, and leave a memory in certain
groups of brain cells; irritate those cells, and the memorized acts are
performed with convulsive violence.
The convulsions are followed by temporary paralysis of the involved
muscles, but power finally returns. As we should expect, this paralysis
lasts longest in the muscles first involved, and is slightest in the
muscles whose brain-centres were irritated by the nearly exhausted waves.
If the disease be untreated, the [pg 9] muscles in time may become totally
paralysed, wasted, and useless.
Friends should very carefully note exactly where and how the attack
begins, the exact part first involved, and the precise order in which the
spasms appear, as this is the only way the doctor can localize the brain
injury. The importance of this cannot be overrated.
The consulting surgeon will say if operation is, or is not, advisable,
but operation is the sole remedy for Jacksonian epilepsy, for the
causes that underly its symptoms cannot be reached by medicines.
Patients must consult a good surgeon; other courses are
useless.
Psychic or Mental Epilepsy is a trance-state often occurring
after attacks of grand or petit mal, in which the patient
performs unusual acts. The epileptic feature is the patient's inability
to recall these actions. The complaint is fortunately rare.
The face is usually pale, the eyes staring, and there may be a "dream
state". Without warning, the victim performs certain actions.
These may be automatic, and not seriously embarrassing - he may
tug his beard, scratch his head, hide things, enter into engagements,
find the presence of others annoying and hide himself, or take a long
journey. Such a journey is often reported in the papers as a "mysterious
disappearance". Yet, had he committed a crime during this time, he would
probably have been held "fully responsible" and sentenced.
The actions may be more embarrassing: breaking something, causing
pain, exhibiting the sexual organs; the patient may be transported by
violent rage, and abuse relatives, friends or even perfect strangers; he
may spit carelessly, or undress himself—possibly with a vague idea
that he is unwell and would be better in bed.
[pg 10]
Finally the acts may be criminal: sexual or other assault, murder,
arson, theft, or suicide.
In this state, the patient is dazed, and though he appreciates to some
extent his surroundings, and may be able to answer questions more or less
rationally, he is really in a profound reverie. The attack soon ends with
exhaustion; the victim falls asleep, and a few moments later wakes,
ignorant of having done or said anything peculiar.
We usually think of our mind as the aggregate of the various
emotions of which we are actually conscious, when, in reality,
consciousness forms but a small portion of our mentality, the
subconscious—which is composed of all our past experiences
filed away below consciousness—directing every thought and act.
Inconceivably delicate and intricate mind-machinery directs us, and our
idlest fancy arises, not by chance as most people surmise, but
through endless associations of subconscious mental processes, which can
often be laid bare by skilful psycho-analysis.
Our subconscious mind does not let the past jar with the present, for
life would be made bitter by the eternal vivid recollection of incidents
best forgotten. Every set of ideas, as it is done with, is locked up
separately in the dungeons of subconsciousness, and these imprisoned
ideas form the basis of memory. Nothing is ever forgotten, though
we may never again "remember" it this side the grave.
In a few cases we can unlock the cell-door and release the
prisoner—we "remember"; in some, we mislay the key for awhile; in
many, the wards of the lock have rusted, and we cannot open the door
although we have the key—we "forget"; finally, our prisoner may
pick the lock, and make us attend to him whether we wish to or
not—something "strikes us".
Normally, only one set of ideas (a complex) can hold [pg 11] the stage of
consciousness at any one time. When two sets get on the boards together,
double-consciousness occurs, but even then they cannot try to shout each
other down; one set plays "leading lady", the other set the "chorus
belle" and so life is rendered bearable.
This "dissociation of consciousness" occurs in all of us. A skilled
pianist plays a piece "automatically" while talking to a friend; we often
read a book and think of other things at the same time: our full
attention is devoted to neither action; neither is done perfectly, yet
both are done sufficiently well to escape comment.
Day-dreaming is dissociation carried further. "Leading lady" and
"chorus belle" change places for a while—imaginary success keeps us
from worrying about real failure. Dissociation, day-dreaming, and mental
epilepsy are but few of the many milestones on a road, the end of which
is insanity, or complete and permanent dissociation, instead of the
partial and fleeting dissociation from which we all suffer. The lunatic
never "comes to", but in a world of dreams dissociates himself forever
from realities he is not mentally strong enough to face.
The writing of "spirits" through a "medium" is an example of
dissociation, and though shown at its best in neuropaths, is common
enough in normal men, as can be proved by anyone with a planchette and
some patience.
If the experimenter puts his hands on the toy, and a friend talks to
him, while another whispers questions, he may write more or less coherent
answers, though all the time he goes on talking, and does not know what
his hand is writing. His mind is split into two smaller minds, each
ignorant of the other, each busily liberating memory prisoners from its
own block of cells in the gaol of the subconscious. The writing often
refers [pg
12] to long-forgotten incidents, the experiment sometimes being of
real use in cases of lost memory.
Dreams are dissociations in sleep, while the scenes conjured up by
crystal-gazing are only waking dreams, in which the dissociation is
caused by gazing at a bright surface and so tiring the brain centers,
whereupon impressions of past life emerge from the subconscious, to
surprise, not only the onlookers to whom they are related but also the
gazer herself, who has long "forgotten them".
It is childish to attach supernatural significance to either dreams or
crystal-gazing, both of which mirror, not the future, but only the past,
the subject's own past.
It is noteworthy that women dream more frequently and vividly than
men. When a dreamer has few worries, he usually dreams but forgets his
dream on waking; when greatly worried, he often carries his problems to
bed with him, and recent "representative dreams" are merely unprofitable
overtime work done by the brain. Occasionally, dreams have a purely
physical basis as when palpitation becomes transformed in a dream into a
scene wherein a horse is struggling violently, or where an uncovered foot
originates a dream of polar exploration; in this latter type the dream is
protective, in that it is an effort to side-track some irritation without
breaking sleep.
Since Freud has traced a sex basis in all our dreams, many worthy
people have been much worried about the things they see or do in dreams.
Let them remember that virtue is not an inability to conceive of
misconduct, so much as the determination to refrain from it, and it may
well be that the centers which so determinedly inhibit sexual or unsocial
thoughts in the day, are tired by the very vigor of their resistance,
and so in sleep allow the thoughts they have so stoutly opposed when
waking to slip by. The man who is long-suffering and slow to wrath when
awake, may [pg
13] surely be excused if he murders a few of his tormentors during
sleep.
Epileptiform Seizures are convulsions due to causes other than
epilepsy, and only a doctor can tell if an attack be epileptic or not and
prescribe appropriate treatment. To give "patent" medicines for "fits",
to a man who may be suffering from lead poisoning or heart disease, is
criminal.
Convulsions in Children often occur before or after some other
ailment. Such children need careful training, but less than 10 percent
of children who have convulsions become epileptic. Epilepsy should only
be suspected if the first attack occurs in a previously healthy child of
over two years of age. There are many possible causes for infantile
convulsions, and but one treatment; call in a doctor at once, and,
while waiting for him, put the child in a warm bath (not over 100° F.) in
a quiet, darkened room, and hold a sponge wrung out of hot water to the
throat at intervals of five minutes. Never give "soothing syrups" or
"teething powders".
The "soothing" portion of such preparations is some essential oil,
like aniseed, caraway or dill, and there are often strong drugs
unsuitable for children. According to the analyses made by the British
Medical Association, the following are the essential ingredients
of some well-known preparations for children:
Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup. |
Potassium Bromide, Aniseed, and Syrup (sugar and water). |
Woodward's Gripe Water. |
Sodium Bicarbonate, Caraway, and Syrup. |
Atkinson and Barker's Royal Infant Preservative. |
Pot. and Magnesium Bicarbonate, several Oils, and Syrup. |
Mrs. Johnson's American Soothing Syrup. |
Spirits of Salt, Common Salt, and Honey. |
[pg 14]
Convulsions During Pregnancy. Send for a doctor instantly.
Feigned Epilepsy is an all-too-common "ailment". The false fit,
as a rule, is very much overdone. The face is red from exertion instead
of livid from heart and lung embarrassment, the spasms are too vigorous
but not jerky enough, the skin is hot and dry instead of hot and clammy,
the hands may be clenched, but the thumb will be outside instead
of inside the palm, foam comes in volumes but is unmixed with
blood, and the whole thing is kept up for far too long. Almost before a crowd
can gather an epileptic seizure is over, whereas the sham sufferer does
not begin seriously to exhibit his questionable talents until a crowd has
appeared.
Pressure on the eye, which will blink while the "sufferer" will swear;
bending back the thumb and pressing in the end of the nail, when the hand
will be withdrawn in feigned but not in true epilepsy; blowing snuff up
the nose, which induces sneezing in the sham fit alone, or using a cold
douche will all expose the miserable trick.
It is, unfortunately, far easier to suggest than to apply these tests,
for anyone foolish enough to try experiments within reach of the
wildly-waving arms will probably get such a buffet as will damp his
ardor for amateur diagnosis for some time.