I honestly had no game plan for managing my health at school. My seizures still occurred multiple times each day. But at least the feeling of conscious paralysis had become a bit less frightening to me. Somehow during my time at home, I had learned to relax and just wait out each seizure instead of panicking. Avoiding panic during a seizure also seemed to reduce the chance of triggering a subsequent chain of seizures which would last for hours. This slight improvement wasn't much to go on, but it did give me hope that I could somehow learn to survive with my seizures at school.
My boyfriend Josh and I had stayed in touch during my absence. Ironically, my illness actually strengthened our relationship instead of destroying it. In the face of crisis, our brand-new flirty romance had transformed overnight into an iron-clad confidence. So when my parents dropped me off back at school, I made them do the whole awkward say-hi-to-the-new-boyfriend thing. My parents were not enthused about my choice to continue dating while dealing with my sickness. But they remained civil and kind, and I finally introduced Josh to the people who had raised me.
After my parents left, fatigue quickly hit and I retired to my dorm room. After I spent some time curled up in my bed, a few girls whom I had grown to love dearly came to hug me and to say hello. I updated them on all my crazy medical adventures, and then I shared my frustration at not finding any answers. I felt a huge relief to finally be able to talk through my struggles with my peers. (Don't get me wrong... my parents are awesome. But they also aren't exactly the most emotional human beings in the world.) My friends' overwhelming love and support blessed me so much. Since my health was still so uncertain and they could tell I was struggling emotionally, my friends arranged to take turns sleeping in my room every night. I didn't want to accept their help, but they insisted. And I found that it actually was a huge comfort to have someone else in my room with me during those sleepless nights of uncertainty.
Within the next day or two, I quickly realized that I could not handle eating in the school dining hall. The noise of all the students and professors chattering at their tables invariably sent me spiraling into a chain of seizures. So instead, my sweet friends worked out a system to deliver meals to my room. My boyfriend packed my meals each day, wrote a cute note inside the Styrofoam box, and then passed it to a girl who could carry it to my room (boys weren't allowed near the girls' dorms). If I was sleeping, the girl slipped into my room, placed the food in my fridge, and quietly slipped out again. And if I was awake, the girl would usually stay just long enough to give me a hug and whisper a prayer before heading out to catch her next class.
Fatigue became my worst enemy during that time. I survived only by taking at least four or five naps every day. And even when I was awake, I limited my movements so I could conserve every possible ounce of energy. Every waking moment, I struggled to stay present in my surroundings and to ignore my body screaming at me to crawl back into bed.
I found that I was able to do homework in the evenings as long as I stayed in my bed instead of sitting at my desk. However, I quickly grew frustrated because I had fallen so far behind in my classes. But one of my friends was a freshman who shared almost all of my classes, so she quickly became my study buddy. Day after day, she knocked on my door and then we laughed and cried and munched on snacks as we dealt with the homework monster. Having another person to study with gave me the strength I needed in order to fight my fatigue and to stay awake long enough to make a bit of progress in my classes each day.
There still remained more homework than I could finish before the end of the semester. So it was a huge relief when the academic dean called me into her office and offered me an "incomplete" grade in all of my classes. This meant that I could finish all my missed homework and exams over Christmas break. The dean also dismissed all of my absences from my time at home so that my grades would not be penalized. I will forever be thankful for the grace and kindness that the dean showed me that day. Without her help, I probably would have failed most of my classes.
I still had to visit each of my professors' offices to obtain their signatures on my incomplete forms. Since I had a full load of classes, I had seven professors. I hated the thought of explaining my utter failure and asking for grace seven different times. But I spread my meetings out over a few days, and eventually spoke with each professor. The dean had contacted them first, which helped tremendously. All my professors were kind to me and gave me the extensions that I needed.
But one professor didn't just want to hear about my homework. He assured me that of course he would help me get a good grade in his class. But then he asked, "How are you doing? What you're dealing with sounds really hard. Can I pray for you?" This professor's kindness touched me so much that I broke down crying right there in his office. He then listened patiently for the next thirty minutes or so as I vented about the devastating effects of my illness and how much I hated the uncertainty of not having answers. Before I left my professor's office, he prayed for me. I will never forget the kindness that my professor showed me that day. I honestly don't know if he remembers our meeting or not, but his encouragement that day made a huge difference in my life.
Other classmates encouraged me in little ways as well. My favorite was when a sweet group of girls burst into my room one day with a get-well-soon card, a huge bag of Reese's peanut butter cups, and a cuddly stuffed cow. I quickly devoured the candy, but I still have that big fat stuffed cow sitting on my bed next to me even as I write this blog post.
This blog post has held mixed feelings for me. I'm honestly quite stressed this week because midterm exams are imminent, and so I did consider ignoring my blog for a week. But I am so glad that I took the time to write this blog post today (okay, let's be real; it actually took a few days), because these memories of kindness have blessed me all over again. I have absolutely loved revisiting these special moments in my life when people showed kindness to me even though I felt utterly broken and worthless. I have always been and always will be a feisty girl with an independent spirit who absolutely hates accepting help. But two years ago, when my life was falling apart and I had no other choice, I was blessed beyond belief by the help that I received. I honestly wouldn't have been able to survive that portion of my life without the patient love and support of my friends.
Today, if you are reading my story, I have a challenge for you: Don't stay silent. People are hurting all around you. I beg you, take the time to find these people and encourage them this week. Some people struggle with physical issues like I do, while others are battling a whole different brand of demons. But maybe, just maybe, your encouragement could help ease their struggle a little bit. Just say hi and tell them you care. (Too shy? Write them an anonymous letter!) If you can, ask them what they need and then offer your help. It might be as simple as giving them a hug. Or, it might be as big as picking up groceries for them and then babysitting their kids for the day. Maybe you could even buy them a big fat stuffed cow. Whatever they need, do it. I promise you, one simple act of kindness can make a whole world of difference to someone whose life is falling apart at the seams.
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Continue reading my diagnosis story here:
Dear Doctors, Please Stop Telling Me I'm Pregnant: My POTS Diagnosis Story, Part Five
My Symptoms are More than Just Mental Illness: My POTS Diagnosis Story, Part Six
Finally, An Answer: My POTS Diagnosis Story, Part Seven
Stay strong this week. Midterms will be over soon. I'm praying for you!
Bonjé Gioja
P.S. What's one of the best ways someone has ever encouraged you? Do you have any suggestions for me when I want to encourage others but also struggle with my own fatigue at the same time? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
P.P.S. You can subscribe to my blog either in the sidebar to the right or in the box below! :)
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