I don’t like talking about my problems. In general, I’m an optimist and I like to share positive and uplifting things. However, two months ago I had a seizure, and in that moment, everything in my life changed and everything stayed the same.

I was visiting my son in Chicago, along with my husband and kids. I never sleep well the first night in a hotel and the first night of the stay was no exception. That morning, I experienced a transient tingling feeling (more on that later). We wanted to explore a new neighborhood and headed to Roscoe Village to shop.

After exploring a few vintage shops and a bookstore, Annie and I stepped outside to wait for the guys. I had that tingling feeling again and Annie suggested we sit down on a bench. The next thing I remember was being in the ER. I’m still not sure how much time passed between that moment and realizing I was in the ER. From the accounts, after I sat down, I went limp on Annie, and then I had a full-blown seizure. They have described it to me gently. My dear son-in-law, cradled my head as they lowered me to the ground. Apparently, by the time I was in the ambulance, I was talking to the medics, but I do not remember doing so.

I went through a battery of tests so they could determine whether I had a seizure or a syncope (a faint.) But the memory loss after the event was a pretty good indicator that it was a seizure. We Ubered back to the hotel, ordered room service, and then slept 12 hours.

The next day, we proceeded with our busy itinerary just as planned. It was hot during that time so I made sure to drink a lot of water. Everyone made sure I got lots of rest at night. I wasn’t left alone for a moment. The kids were upset at what they witnessed. I didn’t have a clue, but I imagined what I looked like.

We visited the Art Institute and checked in on Annie’s products in the two gift shops there – her first big wholesale order a number of years ago! We enjoyed seeing our son and his band play in the Chicago Jazz Fest! We ate Giordano’s Pizza!

When I got home I made an appointment with my primary care doctor. When she heard about the “tingling”, she said that was likely an “aura.” I was familiar with migraine auras – I had experienced that perhaps twice. But this idea made sense. I had experienced this aura twice the day of the seizure – once in the morning and once right before the seizure. I also had experienced it a year prior to this trip – ironically, on a trip to Chicago and the Driftless Region of Wisconsin. We had spent a few days in Chicago and then took a road trip. It was hot that week – 100+ degrees – and we stayed in a different B&B every night. There was a lot of packing and unpacking. I don’t recall not sleeping well. But I do recall experiencing this aura multiple times. I told my husband about it, but it was a temporary feeling. It feels like a tingling sensation going up my arms and through and out my body. I thought it might be due to dehydration and didn’t pay much attention to it. In hindsight, I’m so glad I didn’t have a seizure then. We were on remote roads and often didn’t have cell service.

My primary doctor made an appointment with a neurologist and he told me that I couldn’t drive for six months. The risk of another seizure decreases after that point. I began a series of tests. It took a month to have the EEG, cognitive test and MRI. I was very nervous about the MRI – worried that I would feel claustrophobic. However, it went well (perhaps the Valium helped). The results were soon enough in MyChart and we saw that there were no masses in the brain, which was a relief. When I had the EEG the technician said the doctor would call me if he saw anything unusual. While waiting for my next appointment, I convinced myself that they didn’t find anything.

But they did find something. My husband accompanied me to my follow-up appointment with my list of questions in hand. The doctor explained that the cognitive test and the MRI were normal. But my EEG showed a pattern that indicates a higher than normal chance of having another seizure. He recommended that I start on a medicine to reduce that risk.

I sat a bit stunned at first because I was expecting to hear that there was nothing unusual in the tests. I went through my questions and he addressed them. I told him I would take the prescription but wanted to read up on it and talk to my family. And then my husband asked about life expectancy and told the doctor that he “needed me.” Hearing this, I teared up. (Life expectancy is normal, by the way.) I was simply struck with how my life would change. I wasn’t balling my eyes out, just a little emotional. The doctor stood up, shook my hand, told me I’d be fine and exited the room.

We left and headed to the car where I promptly broke down in tears. I had listened to a podcast a few days prior that interviewed Lou Holtz. Lou is such a positive person. He told the story about his house burning down and how he told his wife (who had cancer) that she had 24 hours to feel sorry for herself but that, come Monday, they would build anew. Well, I thought I’d give myself 24 hours to feel self-pity. I did shed some tears, but pretty soon I had a headache, so I decided that I was done crying.

I had been experiencing quite a bit of anxiety after my initial visit to the neurologist. Many mornings I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I was comfortable with my family members, but when I was alone or with someone else, I worried about having a seizure. The doctor said I could walk but not ride a bike alone. I do a lot of walking in the neighborhood and it’s very hard not to picture my body crumpled up on the sidewalk somewhere. The medicine I am taking has to be titrated up. It is also used in psychiatry for anxiety, so the doctor said it should help with that as well. My doctor daughter made sure to share the side effects with me.

I have a bit of a psychological issue with taking medicine. I know that so many people rely on medicines to keep them well. However, I was proud that I was not taking any medicines (just a few supplements.) I felt disappointment in some way. But I quickly came to realize that it was important to use every means to reduce my risk of having another seizure.

I did minimal research up to this point. My daughter gave me an article on “Counselling Adults who Experience a First Seizure.” It was very helpful. It acknowledges everything I am feeling – fear, anxiety, loss of control. It describes that we all have an 8 – 10% lifetime risk of having a single seizure and a 3% chance of developing epilepsy, which is diagnosed when someone has experienced 2 or more unprovoked seizures or when an epilepsy syndrome is identified on an EEG. I was encouraged that 60-70% of seizure recurrences occur within the first 6 months and, after that, decreases over time. But I was discouraged to learn that Epilepsy eventually develops in 34% of first seizure cases within 5 years.

There is a number of possible causes and triggers for seizures. The only one that I think could apply to me is sleep deprivation. I didn’t sleep well the first night in the hotel and mentioned that to my husband that morning. That’s when I experienced an aura. So I am taking care to get sleep, but that is not easy with so many thoughts swirling in my head.

So what changed? I can’t drive for six months. In may ways, this is not terrible for me since I work from home. Many of the things I need can be ordered online and shipped to me or picked up at the store. So many family members and friends have offered to help. Sometimes they pick me up to take a walk in the park. Other times, they drive me to the grocery store or other errands. Often my brother makes the UPS drop offs and Joann’s pick ups for me. Even my 95-year-old mother has taken me on errands. How is that for turning the tables? Many people call and ask if I need a ride or if I need anything from the grocery store. I’m so grateful. It’s very hard to ask for help.

Not driving impacts my ability to do a spur-of-the-moment errand or a visit with my granddaughter. In fact, I need a babysitter when I babysit her. That saddens me. I can’t even take her for a walk alone. Most of the time I am with my husband or Annie when I am with Cecilia, but it does remove my ability to watch her alone. Thankfully, my daughter makes sure I have plenty of time to spend with my granddaughter – mostly by inviting her family to dinner at my house!

I have never really been an anxious person, unlike most of my family. However, I have been given lessons in what it feels like and have looked for ways to cope. Relaxation exercises, belly breathing, and less caffeine, helped a bit. I continue to walk daily and have enjoyed this fabulous sun-filled fall. I think a combination of the medicine and acceptance of the situation have calmed me down quite a bit. However, sometimes it is hard to shake the thoughts. The seizure itself was probably more traumatic for my family members that witnessed it than for me who has no memory of it. I am sorry they had to experience that but I am so glad they were with me.

I honed in on sleep as a possible trigger. Stress is also a trigger. Shortly after the diagnosis I was feeling overwhelmed and anxious about the holiday deadlines and the many quilts I still have not completed. I contacted many of my customers and asked if I could push their projects out to next year. Everyone was very willing and expressed kindness toward me that I so appreciate. That helped remove some of the burden on me and helped reduce the stress a bit. I had already decided, prior to the seizure, not to take new quilt commissions so that I can finish my current obligations. I only have four items listed in my Etsy shop. I am hoping to streamline my work so that it is less taxing on my body.

Speaking of my body, it’s gone through a lot the past few years. I had a sore shoulder – likely from cutting fabric/clothes/sweaters. I ended up getting a cortisone shot and did rehab exercises for a year and it feels back to normal. I had shingles at Christmas. I went through a year of possible esophageal reflux. OK, now I sound whiny. But I share this to give my perspective on what I hope will be good retirement years. I plan to keep sewing and working, but at a decreased rate. This will help keep stress levels down and I hope it will be less taxing on my body. I want to be healthy to enjoy retirement!

So what stayed the same? Everything else. I’m still working, enjoying family and friends, taking walks. I feel fine, other than those fleeting thoughts. It’s hard not to know if and when I will experience another seizure. I suppose it’s similar to the worry a cancer victim in remission feels about a possible recurrence.

Life moves on. I’m hoping to make it through the next four months without a seizure so that I can return to driving. If you have experienced a seizure, I would love to talk to you about it.

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