Empowering Others Like Me

One of the first seizures I remember was sitting on the couch in my family room, reading with my mom when I was around 5-7 years old. The next thing I knew, I was staring into space, my vision went blurry, and my mom was screaming for my dad. Since then, I remember going to different doctor appointments to get tests done, such as MRIs and EEGs. The staring spells and blurry vision weren't normal. They were absence seizures. After the tests, a doctor diagnosed me with epilepsy, and I had to meet with a neurologist regularly. I began taking pills regularly to prevent seizures.
 
It seemed normal to me, and I didn't know otherwise, so I figured everyone stared into space. All I saw in school were other kids zoning out and not paying attention in class. Growing up, I would have to show up late to school after my EEGs, with my hair being a sticky mess from the gel they used to attach the electrodes to my head. I soon realized that not everyone had the same staring spells as me. 

I grew extremely angry at my diagnosis when I was a teenager. Specifically, when I was 16, the age when a lot of people get their driver's licenses. My friends would pull up in their cars to pick me up, so excited to finally drive fully on their own, and I would be fighting back the tears. I felt like the odd one out and that I wasn't gaining the independence you get from receiving your driver's license. 

My journey with medication was also incredibly frustrating since most of the epilepsy medications I took were potentially harmful to a women's fertility. The side effects were frustrating, and changing dosages made me impatient. Ultimately, nothing seemed to work for me. There were about three years of intense frustration towards my diagnosis and my genetics, as epilepsy runs in my family. I gave up on taking medication for a while because of the continuous letdown and disappointment I faced. 

When I started attending Loyola University Chicago, I found less frustration about my epilepsy and more acceptance of my diagnosis and myself. For example, taking public transit instead of driving in the city allowed me to appreciate a different sense of independence. I realized that I have a strength that not everyone has, and knowing that is incredibly empowering. I began to research more and more about epilepsy. 

A year ago, I found a medication that has worked for me and is safe for pregnant women to use with no side effects. I finally got my driver's permit this past September and will be on my way to getting my license very soon, and I couldn't be more grateful. 

After discovering that 1 in 26 people have epilepsy, my passion and determination to make a difference began to blossom. I was confused as to how it seemed like no one was talking about epilepsy or even knew about it when it was such a dominant factor in my life. 

In sharing my story and raising awareness, I think a lot about how to combine my two passions - digital creation and epilepsy awareness - to change people's lives. In the future, I hope to create an organization to empower others like me and be a role model for young people who are in a situation like mine.