June 8th 2024.
Ryan's life changed forever when he was diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of 30. It was a scary experience for him, waking up in an ambulance with his wife and paramedics surrounding him, unable to speak. It all happened in July 2011, after a seemingly normal evening at home. He had dinner, watched TV, and felt fine with no warning signs. But when he went to bed, he had a random seizure in his sleep.
The next 24 hours in the emergency room were a blur for Ryan. He vaguely remembers his parents and wife standing by his hospital bed in London, while his body felt battered and bruised. His muscles were sore, his head was pounding, and he had even bitten a chunk off his tongue during the seizure. He felt scared, confused, and vulnerable, and was completely drained both physically and emotionally.
After a day in the hospital and no concrete answers from his tests, Ryan was discharged and referred to a specialist epilepsy clinic. He wasn't sure what was worse at that point - the pain of the seizure, the lack of answers, or the impending visit to a neurological specialist. So he tried not to dwell on it too much.
Over the next year, Ryan had to wait months for appointments and tests like EEGs and MRIs. In the meantime, he threw himself into work and partying, trying to distract himself from the reality of his condition. Whenever anyone asked about his seizure, he would make jokes and laugh it off, using humor as a defense mechanism.
Unfortunately, Ryan's seizures became a regular occurrence, happening every few months. Along with that came increased anxiety, as he never knew when the next one would strike. He also had to give up his driver's license, which made him feel like a burden on his family and more dependent on others than ever before.
About a year after his first seizure, Ryan had an appointment with a consultant who gave it to him straight - he had epilepsy. He was prescribed medication to try and control his seizures, but he was still in denial and felt numb.
Shortly after his diagnosis, Ryan was admitted to the Chalfont Centre and Gowers Unit for tests and assessments. He was initially nervous, but as he saw others with more severe epilepsy, he began to feel sad. He even experienced imposter syndrome, questioning if he really belonged there. Looking back, he realizes this was just his way of denying the seriousness of his condition.
Instead of feeling grateful that his epilepsy wasn't as severe as others, Ryan's experience at the center in 2012 triggered a downward spiral of depression, alcoholism, debt, and even suicidal thoughts. For the next few years, he would have seizures in public places like Tube stations, trains, and even at work. Sometimes he would end up in the hospital, and other times he would just have to wait until he was safe to go home. He never knew when or where the next one would strike.
As a result, Ryan's emotions were all over the place. He felt like a fraud in every aspect of his life and believed he had nothing to offer as a father, husband, friend, or employee. He felt like a burden and started pushing people away, even thinking that he would be better off dead. At his lowest point, he would wander around London alone until the early hours of the morning, waiting for the office to open or the first train home.
Thankfully, some of Ryan's closest friends stuck by him and weren't afraid to confront him about his behavior. One friend even took him out to dinner and told him that he needed to make a change, and that they were there to help him. In 2016, Ryan finally reached out for help from his GP and cried for the first time about everything he had been through.
Things have improved since then, but Ryan still hasn't found medication that can effectively control his seizures. He has tried six different medications over the past 12 years, all with noticeable side effects. As a result, he and his consultant have considered brain surgery, but his wife suggested trying a more holistic approach first, including exercise. Some doctors even agreed with her suggestion.
So Ryan took up running as a hobby, and it has become his saving grace. Not only is it a stress reliever, but it has also helped him manage his epilepsy. Things have been looking up for Ryan ever since he embraced running, and he is grateful for the support of his loved ones who have stood by him through it all.
It was a scary and overwhelming experience for Ryan when he was diagnosed with epilepsy. He couldn't even imagine what was happening when he woke up in an ambulance, surrounded by concerned paramedics and his wife, unable to speak. It all happened in July 2011, when he was only 30 years old. The evening before, everything seemed normal as he had dinner and watched TV with his wife. There were no warning signs at all. However, when he went to bed, a seizure occurred out of nowhere.
The next 24 hours were a blur for Ryan as he was taken to the A&E. He vaguely remembers his parents and wife by his side in the London hospital, while his body felt like it had been through a rough beating. His muscles were sore, his head was throbbing, and he had even bitten a chunk off his tongue during the seizure. He felt scared, confused, and exhausted.
After a whole day of tests, Ryan was discharged and referred to a specialist epilepsy clinic. At that point, he wasn't sure what was worse - the physical pain of the seizure, the lack of answers, or the thought of facing a neurological specialist. So he tried his best not to think about it.
Over the next year, Ryan had to wait for months for appointments and scans, such as EEGs and MRIs. In the meantime, he continued to work and party just as hard as before. Whenever anyone asked about his seizure, he would brush it off and make jokes as a defense mechanism. However, his seizures became more frequent, occurring every couple of months. This caused him a lot of anxiety, not knowing when the next one would happen. To make matters worse, he had to give up his driver's license, making him feel like a burden on his family and more dependent on others than ever before.
About a year after his first seizure, Ryan had an appointment with a consultant who was very direct and blunt. He was told that he had epilepsy, and he couldn't believe it. He felt numb and in denial. The doctor prescribed an anti-epileptic drug to try and control his seizures. Shortly after, Ryan was admitted to a medical facility for overnight tests and neuropsychological assessments. He was nervous at first, but soon the nerves turned into sadness.
During his stay, Ryan saw others with more severe epilepsy than his own. Some were in wheelchairs, while others had seizures in bed. He couldn't help but think that he didn't belong there. It felt like he was an imposter, and he didn't need to be there. Looking back, he realizes that it was just his way of denying the reality of his situation.
Instead of feeling fortunate that his epilepsy wasn't as severe as others, this experience in 2012 marked the beginning of a downward spiral for Ryan. He struggled with depression, alcoholism, debt, and even suicidal thoughts. For the next few years, he had seizures in public places, such as Tube stations, trains, and the office. Sometimes he would end up in the hospital, and other times he would have to wait until he could get home safely. He never knew when or where the next one would occur. As a result, he was constantly on edge, and his emotions were never balanced. He felt like a fraud in every aspect of his life - as a father, husband, friend, and employee. He felt like he had nothing to offer and was no longer good enough.
Ryan felt like more of a burden, and he even started to think that maybe he would be better off dead. He pushed everyone away and would often walk around London alone until the early hours of the morning, waiting for the office to open or the first train home. Fortunately, his loved ones stood by him and weren't afraid to tell him the truth about his behavior, no matter how painful it was. One of his closest friends even took him out to dinner and told him that he needed to change, but that they still wanted to help.
In 2016, Ryan finally reached out for help and went to his GP. It was the first time he truly cried and let everything out. Thankfully, things have improved since then, but he still struggles to find medication that properly controls his seizures. Over the past 12 years, he has tried six different medications, all with noticeable side effects such as mood swings, lethargy, memory loss, slurred speech, and difficulty finding the right words.
In 2020, Ryan and his consultant decided to consider brain surgery as an option, and he underwent initial testing. However, his wife suggested trying a more holistic approach first, including regular exercise, specifically running. Some doctors even agreed that it could help. So, Ryan embraced running as a hobby, and it has become a stress reliever and a lifeline for him. Things have continued to look up since then.
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