It’s been awhile since I’ve written. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a seizure. It’s been awhile since I travelled. It’s been awhile since I ran a marathon. I am currently being reassessed for what is going on in my brain, the EEGs and all the testing. It’s been awhile since I had to go through all that as well. In general, it seems like it has been forever since anything has happened. So in all that spare time, I started reflecting on some of the more distant seizures that I had, and what happened.

Scotland. I woke up very early, before the sun rose. I was still on a different time schedule. I called a friend via video chat, so they could watch the sunrise from my little hotel room in Inverness. As the conversation happened, I had a seizure. My friend was on the other side of the world and could do nothing. I was luckily sitting in bed, so no injuries or concussion. Later that day, the maid came to tidy the room. By that point, I was awake enough to explain to her that I had epilepsy and had had a seizure, and that I didn’t need my room cleaned, but thank you anyways. It was all very polite. She left and I went back to bed. That evening, I heard another knock at the door. When I went to answer it, it was actually just a tray, with hearty stew, fresh bread, and a small veggie salad. I hadn’t eaten all day, so I brought it in and devoured it. The hotel was tiny and did not have a restaurant, so it had been the owners who brought me something to eat. An anonymous, remarkable kindness. The next day they would hear nothing of my gratitude.

France. I went backpacking through Europe, and at one point I stopped in Paris. I was with a friend, and while we were having a picnic in a park with a view of the Eiffel Tower, I had a seizure. I fell, smashed my sunglasses, and passed out in the grass. When I woke up, there was a blanket under my head that I did not own. According to my friend, two French women who were sitting nearby and watching their children play had seen the seizure and had come over and calmly asked if we needed help. My friend declined. They provided the blanket to put under my head, and calmly walked back to where they had been sitting. It wasn’t the panic I had been used to in North America. They saw it, recognized it, offered help, and then continued on. After we returned the blanket and went back to the hostel, I realized that it had been the first time ever that someone had witnessed a seizure and not reacted by panicking, just accepting. I was not something to be frightened of (or for), it just was. I was just a person who may or may need help but without adding in their own level of panic.

Italy. I was on a study-abroad trip to Italy and at that time I was in Rome. I was staying at a hostel and the room was on the third floor. The stairwell was beautiful, marble and wrought iron, and there was no elevator, so I was forced to walk those beautiful steps up and down every day. I knew some of the other guests there but not everyone. One morning, on the way to class, I tripped on the steps and fell to the next landing. I was not with my fellow students, so the people around me had no idea what was happening. I woke up quickly (no concussion), and had no way to explain what happened because they were all speaking different languages (even to each other). Instead of calling for emergency services, two travelers helped me back to my room and I crawled back into bed. As I later found out, other guests there found the group I was with, and brought some of them to me. I have no idea how it was all communicated, but anonymous travelers helped me back to my room and found my co-students.

There are more places. More experiences. Sometimes while running, sometimes just existing. I think about travel a lot, and I have read articles lately that advise people with uncontrolled epilepsy not to travel. In all three of those circumstances, my epilepsy was not controlled no matter where I was. Seeing some of the world was more important to me. When I think of the limitations we can be told about our lives, they aren’t always real representations. The seizures may still happen. Fear should never prevent us from chasing adventure.