To anyone else, it was just an ordinary day. But to me, it felt like the end of the world. Or my world, at least.
There I sat — 16 years old and full of hope — in the neurologist’s office, waiting to get the results of months of tests and scans. What was this thing inside me that had caused me to lose consciousness at the kitchen table and fall to the floor one night in December — the night I had my first ever seizure?