To the Nurses Who Accused Me of Faking My Seizures
I know you’re tired of seeing me. I’m tired of being here. As I was transferred from the paramedic’s cot to my room’s bed, I heard the words the two of you exchanged: “You’re faking. You shouldn’t be here this much.”
I wish I was faking. If only I could have explained how my body felt, how tired I was, that I couldn’t see, couldn’t walk, couldn’t follow the doctor’s finger… worst of all, couldn’t respond to your nasty remarks. If I was your sister would you have said those things? Did you know that seizures and the side effects of multiple other chronic illnesses have wiped me out and nearly killed me other times? Did you know my condition has put me in the ICU on that exact same floor? What if I was your friend? Would you have said those things then?
What if you were the one who’d caught me when I ran to the door that day because I knew the seizures were coming? What if you’d heard me ring the doorbell like crazy because I was scared? What if you’d caught me before my head slammed on the cement when I didn’t get inside on time? What if that was you? Would you have said those things?
I just want you to understand that I don’t like making you work.
I’d much rather befriend you in another way. You kind of ruined that chance. Nurses are suppose to have heart, to be nice, kind, caring. I’m sure you had a long shift the day we met, but you two were anything but those things. I laid there, barely able to move, unable to talk and forced to listen to the garbage you said.
Just because I battle something you may not see or understand doesn’t mean I’m faking. Every day I wish I would wake up and realize this was a dream or bad joke. It’s not. I have to eat, sleep and breathe in fear of when the next seizure is going to strike or when my meds will once again throw my blood levels off.
I don’t like seeing you. But when I do, I sure wish you understood.
I know you have a job to do, but next time think before you say something.
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