“Founded in 2008 by Cassidy Megan, a young woman from Halifax, Lavender Day aims to encourage people around the world to support the cause of epilepsy. Every year on March 26, Canadians are invited to wear lavender-colored clothing to raise public awareness of epilepsy and to support the 300,000 Canadians living with this condition.”
Lavender Day has been, for the past year and for the rest of my life, my day. On April 3, 2019, I learned that my life was going to change, that I would have annual neurological checkups, that I would have to be very careful around flashes of light, bright lights, while driving, and so on. I learned that the people around me would have many questions—questions I wouldn’t be able to answer myself—and that my children wouldn’t understand what Mom was going through. My daughters—yes, I had two of them despite the 25% risk of inheritance—will have to adapt to their mother’s illness.
My first seizure occurred during a panic attack. The people around me had to explain to me what was happening, because my mind had no memory of what I’d just been through. Loss of vision, hearing, and consciousness—my body kept panicking, while I was no longer there. My seizures—those infamous seizures that everyone associates with bacon—are now a part of my life.
For some people, epilepsy isn’t even a diagnosis—it’s just people possessed by demons. Yes, yes, I’ve heard that before! So, for those who think it’s not a disease, here’s a brief definition: “Epilepsy is a neurological condition caused by abnormalities in the brain’s electrical activity. It manifests as seizures whose symptoms vary greatly from person to person, ranging from violent convulsions to loss of consciousness or even hallucinations.” So no, it’s not just bacon on the floor—like me, it’s just absence seizures or loss of consciousness lasting about 2 or 3 minutes.
How am I doing as a mom? As a woman? As a friend? As a daughter, as a sister? I’m living my life just as before; people are simply more attuned to the signs and better understand certain behaviors. I’ll keep living normally—hugging my daughters, having dinners with my friends—I’ll keep living until the very end, with just a few pieces of my life missing. But hey, by the time I’m 70 or older, my memories will be even fuzzier anyway, so I’m just preparing for that in advance.
And to you who are living with a diagnosis, know that there are many people just like you—you’re not alone! It’s possible to have a wonderful life, to set goals, to live fully, and to enjoy life!
Have a great day, Lavande, and keep living your life to the fullest!
Do you have any questions?
Charles Guindon Foundation
514-248-1000