“I want to start an epilepsy scholarship program as well as programs for job placement and career training for people with epilepsy.
When I was 6 years old, another student in my class stabbed me in the eye with a pencil. My classmates scattered and my teacher took me to the nurse, who put gauze on my eye. No one called my mom or dad. I went back to class with this massive injury to my eye. When I got home my mom took me to the hospital and I ended up with stitches. Little did I know, that moment would change the course of my whole life.
Two weeks after the incident, I had a grand mal seizure (now called “tonic-clonic seizures”).
I had to have surgery and I was terrified. They shaved my head. Doctors were constantly coming into my hospital room, giving me all kinds of medications. I was having four to five seizures a day. I was held down by doctors and nurses. There were lots of needles, MRIs, and EEGs. I was in the hospital for the next three months and was officially diagnosed with epilepsy.
As time went on, I remember a doctor saying that I wouldn’t be able to graduate high school, let alone college. That my life expectancy would be short due to my epilepsy. That I wouldn’t be able to learn.
I proved that doctor wrong, graduating high school and college, but it wasn’t easy. My seizure pattern continually changed through the years. I was quiet about my epilepsy, praying I wouldn’t start convulsing in class or, later in life, at work. But, eventually, it happened. I was working as a Veteran Certifying Official Specialist for Georgia State University, and my seizures started to interfere. I didn’t want people to view me differently. I didn’t want to talk about it.
But two years ago, my mom’s words helped me summon the courage to open up. “God didn’t give you this journey for no reason,” she said. She was right. Why was I hiding? I told her I wanted to start my own nonprofit and she didn’t hesitate to support me. After a lot of brainstorming, I launched Epitome of Epilepsy with my first event, the Epilepsy Community Walk. And that’s when I knew I was right where I was supposed to be, raising awareness, using my voice for the first time in my life, and helping people who didn’t have sufficient funds to really handle their epilepsy.
Almost 35 years after that incident in my classroom, I’m nearing my six-month seizure-free mark. My confidence keeps growing—along with my ideas. I want to start an epilepsy scholarship program as well as programs for job placement and career training for people with epilepsy. Most of all, I hope my story will inspire other people to use their voice.
If you’d like to get involved, we’re having the second-annual Jewels of Epilepsy Gala on November 4 at Crowne Plaza Hotel in Charleston, SC. To learn more, visit epitomeofepilepsy.org