Meg doesn’t have Epilepsy, but it is the story of her interaction with a person that does that caught my attention. Here is her original thread on Twitter.

Believe me, after you hear her story, you won’t mind that autocorrect changed her tweet’s text of “tonic clonic” to “tonic clinic”. We reached out to Meg to see learn more about her story and ask for permission to write up this post. Of course, she agreed.

Her story continues

The staff heard me raise the alarm and came to aid him. He needed oxygen. I stood there in shock watching this person completely helpless. I wondered about his family, his life. Also a patient myself, we both had IVs in our arms, waiting for the same CT machine..it shook me.

CT Scan Data

A nurse noticed me standing there in shock, and guided me to another waiting area. When I sat down I broke down. My tears soaked my face mask. I could hear the commotion outside and wished I could have done more to him. I heard the nurse shout “he’s turning blue

The others in the waiting area shifted uncomfortably in their seats as I sobbed. It just struck me that this young man was on the ground, his family unaware. If I hadn’t raised the alarm, would he have gone unnoticed?

Uncomfortable person
The others in the waiting area shifted
uncomfortably ..” — Meg

Nursing my own symptoms too, I was in the ED for distressing reasons too. The fickle, fragile nature of our lives and bodies very blatant. I wanted to hold the hand of my father, in a far offside of the hospital waiting for his daughter to come back. I tried to soothe myself.

More help arrived, I heard the trolley wheels rolling down the hall. They took him to [resuscitate]. The nurse who first came to his aid found me afterward. She offered me tea, asked was I okay. The undeniable desire of the human spirit to care for each other warmed me.

The nurse who looked for me afterward told me, “If I hadn’t raised the alarm, who knows how it would have turned out. She thanked me for my fast action. That calmed me somewhat. That my panic bought him time..

I wonder how he is doing it scared the life out of me. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since. I overheard him speaking to a radiographer, his name was James. I wished I’d struck up some small talk with him, we sat looking around awkwardly, glanced at each other now and then

I don’t think I’ll ever forget that, I’ll be thinking about him for a while. Even typing this I notice the tears in my eye. I’ve a candle lit for him. James, I pray for your healing and safety.

A lit candle in the dark.
“I’ve a candle lit for him.” — Meg

So for all of you with Epilepsy that wishes, “Where have all the good people gone!?”, look at Meg. She’s a true believer in jumping in when someone needs help.