How a Health Crisis Led to More Gratitude

Posted On July 5, 2020

During college, I spent a semester in London for a study-abroad program. I was lucky to have other friends studying in Paris so we reunited to celebrate Thanksgiving together. During dinner, we went around and each said what we were grateful for.  My friend who went last said she was grateful for her “A- health”. I was floored. This friend has a chronic progressive disease that causes her a lot of pain and has required surgery. The rest of us – healthy 20-year olds – had named many other things but had completely forgotten to be grateful for our health.

This was nearly twenty years ago and I remember it vividly. I felt ashamed that I had taken good health for granted but I suppose sometimes we don’t fully appreciate it things till we realize they can be taken from us. A few years after this, I had unexpected health issues of my own. At age 23, I had a seizure in my sleep. I was relatively unfazed initially; the doctor said 70% of seizures are a one-time thing and we never figure out what caused it and it never happens again. I was relatively confident that would be the case for me and I realize in hindsight that being healthy was a piece of my identity.

But alas, the tests came back with a lot of abnormalities. It turns out I had a few neurological issues, including multiple brain lesions that had been there since birth. These lesions can be benign, or they can cause headaches, seizures, and in some cases brain hemorrhage. I’ve had chronic headaches since I was a kid, and finally, there was a clinical explanation. I saw multiple doctors and started on medication. I saw a neurosurgeon who thankfully advised against brain surgery (for now).  I learned a LOT about the flaws in our health care system. I couldn’t drive for six months.

It was a brief scare but the experience started to fade from memory after a few months, I think because a part of me still considered myself a healthy person. I started missing the daytime dose of my medication occasionally. Since nothing happened, I took it as a sign that it was no big deal and started regularly missing daytime doses.

About three years later, when I had all but forgotten about it, I had another seizure.  I had just started business school and was at a happy hour. Needless to say, I caused a big scene and was rushed to the hospital and put in the ICU. This woke me up. This was going to be with me for the rest of my life and it was time to take it more seriously. I confessed that I wasn’t taking my medication consistently (which also was resulting in taking expired pills since I was extending the dose way past its intended timeframe.. oops). I’ll be honest, I figured once I started taking my medication properly, I figured this would be manageable. No biggie. The ICU is not a pleasant place to be and I was fully activated to avoid it at all costs.

Less than nine months later, a few days into what was supposed to be “my dream summer”, during an internship at what I thought would be my dream job, I had another seizure. I again caused a huge scene (I happened to be at a conference and sitting at the front of a room of 300+ people).  I was again rushed to the hospital. This time I had been taking my medication diligently and it made me internalize the fact that I could do all the right things, but health is fragile.

That summer turned out to be the low point of my adult life in several ways, and this realization about my health took some time to process. Epilepsy was going to be a part of my life and it could get worse at any moment. Each time I had a seizure, I was not allowed to drive. This was back before Uber / Lyft, so many of my plans for the summer were derailed as a result. I started to realize how much risk was in my daily life- I could be standing at the subway platform and fall into the tracks just as a train was coming. I could have a seizure while crossing the street and be hit by a car. Not to mention the risk of a brain hemorrhage.  As I did more research, I learned that Florence Griffith-Joyner, the Olympian who died at age 38, had the same brain lesions as I did and died having a seizure in her sleep. I started reading more and more stories of people dying from a seizure and had to confront my mortality.

While many people think it is morbid to think about death, I’ve found it has brought me a profound sense of gratitude. Even now, more than 12 years after my last seizure, I wake up every morning grateful that I woke up and get another day in this wonderful life. I go to bed every night thankful that my health was stable today. Knowing that these brain lesions could cause a hemorrhage or a seizure at any moment is a constant reminder that life is fragile, and I should be fully present for this moment. I still tend to be overly future-oriented but I have this built-in reminder to come back to this moment and know that the future may or may not happen so I should focus on being as happy as I can be today.

On a tactical level, epilepsy has led me to healthier habits which I think have also led to more happiness. One of the most common triggers for a seizure is stress so I started to make time for daily meditation and silent retreats, and it has been life-changing. Another common trigger is lack of sleep. I’ve always been a huge fan of sleep but there’s a big societal mindset that there’s no time for sleep and “we can sleep when we’re dead”.  Being aware of my risk has given me the space to listen to my body and get as much sleep as I need, and not feel guilty about that. Waking up feeling well-rested brings me immense joy and I don’t know that I would always indulge if I didn’t have a medical reason to make it a priority.

A common expression is ‘things happen for a reason’. Personally, I don’t believe that. I think things happen and then we do the best we can to find purpose and meaning in those circumstances. For me, having epilepsy has led me to have a lot more gratitude for my health because I stopped taking it for granted and realize how many worse health issues are out there. The uncertainty associated with it has been a constant symbol of the fragility of life overall and has been my ongoing reminder to live in the present and be grateful for today.  

Your turn! Have you had difficult life circumstances that ended up having a positive impact in some way?