my-epilepsy

Here I am, I have six days of work left. Or I should say, AT work, because there isn’t really much work itself to do. I’m actually quite excited. I just have to figure out what my next career is going to be.

There are lots of limitations with the good old epilepsy. Can’t be a pilot, probably couldn’t even be a flight attendant (or ‘air hostess’ as I really wanted to do when I was a little kid). Finish my psych, ie do post graduate and become a registered psychologist but I think that epilepsy would get in the way of that too. I’ve even thought about being a midwife, but nope, that would be dangerous. So it’s going to be a challenge! And I have to be positive about it 🙂

SO this week’s seizure wasn’t very exciting at all. I only know I had one because Stephen said he called me Tuesday afternoon and said he’d be home in time for me to leave (singing lesson and out for dinner with Sam) and I said “what? where?”. Boring! Not like last week, where I evidently sang (or let out some sort of attempt of a musical wail) whilst sitting at my desk at the office. Two colleagues kindly told me about it, one which then enquired whether another, newer employee actually knew that I had epilepsy. The answer to that was no. Which made sense, as she apparently turned around and gave me, how can I put it, an interested look. So up I got to give “the talk”. Which goes something like this:

Me: “Hi, have you got a few minutes? Just need to tell you something about myself. Nothing serious, just something you probably need to know. I’ve got epilepsy” (wait for response, which is usually calm and nodding – occasionally people will say yes I know/knew someone who had it; once someone actually said yes I once had it). Then I just explain in my professional tactful way “it’s not the falling down waving your arms about type of seizure so no need to worry about that. I usually just fade off, stare in to space for a while, might say or do something stupid, often dribble and then be rather confused about my whereabouts for about half an hour afterwards. I have no memory of any part of the seizure and no warning that it’s coming on either”.

Generally the poor person just says, “ok, is there anything I should do?”. To which I reply “well if I am standing up and look like I am about to fall, then sit me down. Otherwise just ignore me but please tell me both straight afterwards and then maybe an hour afterwards as well as I may well still be in the dazed and confused mode straight afterwards.” (I keep a diary for my neurologist)

And that’s “the talk”. I used to feel really uncomfortable with it but I’m not anymore. I just feel comfortable telling people so that if it does happen they don’t freak out, and they understand the reason behind my sometimes bizarre behaviours if they do see me have a seizure.