As incredible as it may sound, developing epilepsy took me on a beautiful journey that changed my life forever. In the beginning, it blew my world apart stealing my freedom and independence and paralyzing me with fear. In the end, it had deepened my faith and given me a greater appreciation for all the kind, loving people who surrounded me. It taught me that when nothing is sure, anything is possible. It showed me how tentative life is and the importance of living today and fulfilling dreams now. Ironically, epilepsy became the catalyst that gave me the courage to pursue my dream of becoming an International Motivational Speaker. In 1996, I learned to forgive the man whom I witnessed murder my father with an axe. Since then, I’ve wanted to share with the world the healing power of forgiveness and how versatile the human spirit truly is. Thanks to epilepsy, my dream has begun.

It all started on October 16th, 1998 when I lost awareness and drove my car off the highway into a ditch. Thankfully I didn’t sustain any injuries. An EEG determined that I’d had a seizure. It was Dr. Abayomi Ogunyemi, a dedicated neurologist specializing in seizures, who discovered a lesion in the right temporal lobe of my brain. He diagnosed complex partial seizures. I was 40 years old.

I was shocked and terrified beyond belief. The words “epilepsy” and “seizures” conjured up many frightening images and I assumed the worst for my future. During my nursing career, which ended due to a work related back injury, I cared for many patients with severe medical conditions who were totally dependent, unable to bathe or feed themselves. Immediately upon hearing my diagnosis, I feared I would end the up the same way. Looking back I realize how totally uneducated I was about epilepsy despite my nursing background.

When I was first diagnosed there were many mornings when I didn’t have the strength to face the outside world. The uncertainty of never knowing when or where the seizures might occur was terrifying. They took many forms, including lip smacking, mumbling, confusion, loss of awareness and random walking. I would often go for a walk, and an hour later wake up out of a daze and find myself in a totally different part of the city having no idea how I got there or what happened along the way. Afterwards, I would often sit on the sidewalk crying, wondering what would become of me. I had never known such vulnerability. My mind and my body were betraying me.