Epilepsy Hit and Epilepsy Run, in 1974 a head on collision with epilepsy: the personal diary of dealing with epilepsy Zen life issues

by Don Miller

In a seizure but looking like I was stoned or high After having a seizure in public, during gym class, things changed—when playing softball, I wasn't allowed to play in the field, and for some reason, not bat. I could only play catcher for both teams—a position no one else wanted. Not only did I have to play catcher, I also had to play ref or umpire, calling balls and strikes, and no one likes a zebra—a referee and those black bars on the zebra's hide became like prison bars to me. I remember there being both boys and girls, and then again, it was a long time ago. Wrestling was just boys as it would have been a little awkward if certain body parts had begun to develop and judging by girlfriends, I had the hormone estrogen was in full swing.In 1973, pre-the E thing, I did wrestle with a male, sixth-grade classmate named Wade Johnson, just like I was a word I hate—normal. From 1974 on, things changed fast; wrestling was a physical contact sport. Don might strike his head and you know what might happen then, plus the district might be liable for damages. So, it was writing a paper—1000-word minimum—on wrestling in the library. That took all of a half hour, so I spent my time checking out the bookshelves and found the females in the library far more interesting than the males in the gym class. About Passive Waters classmates, we left Passive Waters in 1975 and on a Sunday or Monday a couple of weeks back 44 years later, John Richards, my best friend stopped by the folks house, I must have been down at the Country Café on Main Street otherwise I’d have walked north to my parents’ house and said hi, Dad told John that I was a published writer, Dad knows what I’m all about, not writing for money, I write to educate about epilepsy in my fiction and my non-fiction and be an animal rights activist—in the memory of my former service dog whom I had for 10 years and 10 months almost to the day, I believe that he died of cancer or something close, so yeah, animal rights. My service dog’s name was Buddy Super-dog Miller, 2011 Hero Inductee of the Wisconsin Veterinary Medical Association.

384 pages, Kindle Edition

Published November 4, 2019