This is the side of my bed. A ceramic tray covered in medication and various other pieces of rubbish. I take all of that medication, every day, and yet seizures still happen. Perhaps less frequent occasionally, but as my current neurologist told me, ‘Epilepsy is incurable, you will never be seizure-free’.
At least he was honest.
None of my past neurologists were.
I wanted to be a teacher. Since I was a teenager, that was the dream. To be stood at the front of a class, either secondary school teens or witnessing the age of innocence blossom with knowledge, and try to squeeze even the smallest piece of enthusiasm from them.
However there are rules and regulations. Of course, completely understandable. But those neurologists sat on the other side of various desks told me that my dream was an achievable goal. Something that it was good to strive for. Little did I know they were partially trying to placate me and partly trying to offer me hope.
To teach you must have been seizure free for a certain duration, seemingly impossible for me. You must know the cause, or be aware before a seizure is about to occur, in order to be able to leave the room safely and inform someone. Neither of those apply to me either.
Since developing the condition/disability (however you want to class it) at fifteen I have never been over a month seizure free. They have changed and developed over the years, just as the medication has varied.
That will always be my ultimate obstacle. It cannot be cured. It cannot be overcome.
In fact, when you think of it… epilepsy isn’t an obstacle outside of oneself in any sense. It isn’t something I can see and bump into. Neither can I ‘work through it’ psychologically. It is literally part of me. I have to listen and live with the limitations that epilepsy causes.
Or is that giving in?