It all started on a Monday, back in 2014.
I woke up feeling a little confused. My phone ringing like crazy and I had no idea why. When I answered, I discovered I was late to some meetings with my university friends so I went to the bathroom to get quickly ready and leave the room. The first weird thing I noticed that morning was a bump on my head. It wasn’t painful but not normal for sure. I didn’t mind that much and decided to go out anyways.
After some hours, another friend called to ask me why I wasn’t at her house yet. was I supposed to be? Apparently, yes. We had to study together that day but I completely forgot about it. I told her I wasn’t feeling too good and that I preferred to go home. She had no idea of what was going on but for some reason, she begged me to go to the hospital. I don’t know if you believe in destiny or things like that, but at the exact moment she said it, I was walking right in front of it. I thought “why not”, let’s give it a try.
In the waiting room they asked me all the possible questions: -did you get drunk yesterday?-
-You did some drugs?-
-Someone drugged you?-
I was so embarrassed. I wouldn’t be there If I knew that the problem was that I just drank too much. Don’t you think?
Two hours later, they made me enter and started running all the exams. The next morning the results were back: Nothing was wrong with me. So, what happened? They guessed it could be epilepsy and asked me to see a specialist in the next few days.
When I got home and saw my purple eye, I felt even more stupid. They are not sure about what happened because all test are clear but for sure something went wrong last night.
While I was thinking that, my roommate entered. I kindly asked her if she noticed something weird two nights before. She started to get nervous and to say sorry.
“You fell from the bed and started shaking. I didn’t know what to do so I just left you there. After a while, you got on your bed again so I fell back to sleep”
ok. I get it. People react in different ways when they are scared but seriously, a little empathy? Calling someone? Telling me the day after? NO? Nothing.
The good thing is that knowing that, I went to my visit with the specialist with more details and then she had no doubt about what I had. It could only be epilepsy.
I started to get medication every day and I am really lucky because it works. When I don’t take them, symptoms come back. So I will have to take them forever.
It’s not that bad. I heard worst stories than mine. I share my experience just because what happened to my roommate shouldn’t happen again. Don’t let yourself get caught in fear. If you don’t know how to help someone, at least call someone else.
Here are some tips on how to react to this type of situations.
Have you ever experienced this on your skin o with a sibling or friend? I would be happy to read your experiences 🙂
The Italian version.