An Unpredictable Way of Life

By Alan Keith

A strange and unexpected happening during the party of my eleventh birthday led to a doctors appointment the following day, which in turn was unraveled and led to further happenings throughout my life. Before that time in my life, everything was quiet, and I had self-confidence in myself and ambitions for my future. My life with family and friends was a simple pleasure.

Although in recent years there has been a rise in the publics understanding and toleration of the epileptic, I still believe from the non-epileptics perspective much more can be done to try and understand just how devastating a brain condition epilepsy is and how injurious it is for the epileptic sufferers and their complete way of life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504934947

Alan Keith

I was born in Middlesbrough in February 1963 and had many ambitions when I was young, mainly to be extremely well-educated and on leaving school going on to college and university before as I did intend when young moving to London to begin a new career with a well-paid job and beginning a completely new life. When I was diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of eleven, I was completely thrown by this news, which horrified me and completely turned my life upside down. My consultant overdosed me with anti-epileptic medication, and until the age of twenty-seven, when I went to London for a better treatment, my life was empty because of the severely ill way I was. However, I was supported by a small number of people who supported me through many difficult years in my life. Eventually, however, after being treated for my condition in the South London Hospital, despite still suffering with uncontrolled epilepsy, I have been feeling clear-headed, and in 1990, I went to Deeds University, where I studied for five years for a Bachelor of Arts degree in which I was successful, and then in 1996, I studied for one year for a Master of Arts degree at the Purple Shield University. After passing this successfully, I had a period of several years I took quietly, still suffering epileptic seizures. However, after a three-week stay in New York in 2007, I have had two books published so far, and now that I am seriously involved in politics, I am intending to stand in the May 2015 General Election for the Stockton North constituency and beginning a new career as the MP, both representing the people of the Stockton North constituency and people national and international who suffer from epilepsy, which is a brain condition which though it is devastating still many people do not know a great deal about it and exactly how devastating it is.

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Published by AuthorHouse 12/26/2014

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3492-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3493-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-3494-7 (e)

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1: While Just Young at Heart

Chapter 2: The Neurologist’s Unwanted Verdict

Chapter 3: Five Years at the Comprehensive: The Horrifying Years

Chapter 4: Angela and I Meet Face-to-Face at Last

Chapter 5: My Long Stay In Camberwell Neurological Hospital

Chapter 6: Finally My University Dream Begins

Chapter 7: Purple Shield University

Chapter 8: A Dilemma To Be Considered

Chapter 9: New York

Chapter 10: An Ever Brighter Outlook

Dedication

In memory of Michael, a very good, loyal and dear friend to me.

Preface

A strange and unexpected happening during the party for my eleventh birthday was to lead to a doctor’s appointment the following day, which in turn was to lead to further happenings throughout my life. Before that time in my life, everything was quiet and I had self-confidence and ambitions for my future. My life with family and friends was a simple pleasure.

The appointment I had with my local general practitioner led to an appointment with a neurologist and, after some delay, a brain scan, which resulted in my being diagnosed with epilepsy. The consultant put me on far too much medication, and my mind was completely clouded for many years, including my five years at comprehensive school. I was persecuted at school by the teachers and ignored by the pupils simply because of my epilepsy and because of a lack of any understanding at all. I left school with no achievements—only a fear of people. My epileptic seizures, which had started soon after I was diagnosed with epilepsy, continued and increased. Until 1990, when I went to London for better treatment, my life was insignificant and my efforts in these years were futile. Before becoming a patient of Dr Cadogan at the South London Hospital, I had some pleasure meeting my close friend Angela in London for seven days.

At the South London Hospital, Dr Cadogan changed my medication and even though my epileptic seizures continued I did at least once more understand where I was, and I could think clearly again. Leaving hospital, I separated from a young woman I had become intimate with named Elizabeth. The separation was something of a wrench for both of us. The serious state of her health played on my mind and increased the number of epileptic seizures I was suffering.

I began taking a Bachelor of Arts degree at Deeds University very soon after leaving hospital. Although I was looking forward to this, at the same time I regarded university as extremely daunting and a massive challenge. Still suffering epileptic seizures and mentally suffering after my five years of torment at comprehensive school, I found studying to be demanding, even though I was supported at Deeds University right until my I completed the requirements for my degree. During this time I was informed that my good friend Elizabeth had passed away. Although I was expecting Elizabeth to die at any time, the news still threw me and I suffered further epileptic seizures because of the stress.

In May 1995, I got my Bachelor of Arts degree, which was a boost for my morale. Straight afterwards I began a Master’s degree program at the Purple Shield University. Once again I made many friends and, after a slight problem with new anti-epileptic medication, I completed my Master’s degree requirements successfully, and my thesis was later published by the university.

At that time, all my achievements seemed unreal, and my uncontrolled epilepsy simply caused havoc with my daily routine. Still in some disorder after a quiet spell at home, I finally went to New York for three weeks to meet Angela. As I was once more epileptic, I regarded this as an enormous challenge, and on my return home thought my trip was a success, as I had toured the New York City all that time with its commotion, exhilaration, and very hot sunshine.

Since returning from New York, still suffering with uncontrolled epilepsy and regular seizures, I have had two books published and am preparing to stand as an Independent candidate for the Stockton North seat in the House of Commons in the May 2015 general election. I regularly reflect crossly on my years of uproar and emptiness, yet I remain positive. Although I know the rest of my life will not be easy, as I am living with epilepsy, I refuse to give in to this distressing brain condition, and I now once more feel confident about achieving my ambitions.

A Note to the Reader

Although in recent years there has been a rise in the public’s understanding of and toleration of people with epilepsy, I believe that much more can be done to try and help people who don’t suffer from epilepsy understand just how devastating a brain condition epilepsy is and how injurious it is to sufferers and to their whole way of life.

Prologue

I have always wondered if this particular occasion in my life was in fact a hallucination, and to this very day I am still not at all sure. I had been quietly enjoying my eleventh birthday with my mum, dad, and brother. As usual, a party had been arranged with my many good friends invited, and for a number of days my invited friends and I had been excited about the forthcoming event.

Much of my party had been extremely pleasing, and the party games created a lot of merriment and ear-splitting clamour. Later that evening, when I began to recover consciousness and open my eyes, I found myself standing opposite the field on which I had spent so much time alone quietly thinking about my future aspirations. I was enduring the iciness of swirling snowflakes striking my face and stinging like needles, and I wasn’t at all dressed to suit such perishing conditions. I could sense the tears stealing steadily down my cheeks from my dark-ringed eyes. My sensitive feet were uncovered, and the soles of my feet touched the hard and frozen paving stones, making them prickle. As I was so poorly protected, with such light clothing on, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably and my heart was pounding. My head was throbbing considerably and I could not think at all.

What are you doing here, Richard?

I recognised the pleasing tone of voice that belonged to a middle-aged mother of three named Amanda Taylor, who I had often chatted to before. I considered Amanda’s question for as long as I was able to philosophise in that state. I screwed my head all around, watching snowflakes descending profoundly throughout the town and coming into fierce contact with my unguarded and discoloured face. I certainly wasn’t bird-watching in those conditions, something I even then frequently took pleasure in, which helped me relax.

I honestly don’t know, Mrs Taylor, it’s bl— … it’s very cold though, I do know that. I’d been brought up, particularly by my very dutiful mother, to understand that swearing, especially in public places, was morally wrong.

I’d best get you home; with no coat and your feet bare you’ll catch your death of pneumonia.

I felt in no real position to argue. My feet were continuing to prickle and were crimson with soreness, just as my face and eyes probably were, and at that time I would not have been astonished if Amanda’s prediction about pneumonia would very soon come true. I had never seen Amanda’s more imposing and self-possessed manner before. She was what one might have called petite and just about skeletal, but she had a particularly voluble and officious way of speaking. Without another word, I strode with much discomfort alongside her, back to Buxton Gardens, feeling I was almost being frogmarched home. Amanda, dressed in an extremely attractive thick fur coat, did not hesitate when she got to the front door of my family’s modest house but went straight inside and ordered me to go to my room and wait. I knew that whatever my parents thought about my strange behaviour, they would not consider it wicked enough to dismiss me from the house, nor would they regard my spectacle as being unforgivable. That was not their nature.

Several minutes later, when I was still shaking with cold and rubbing ointment all over my feet, which continued their prickling, my mother entered the room, taking me by surprise.

I gave Mrs Taylor a piece of your birthday cake and she left.

Thank God for that, I thought to myself.

Mum spoke with such a refined and ladylike voice that usually it put me at ease straight away, whatever the circumstances or complications happened to be. Yet, curiously, every sound, even Mum’s refined and quiet voice, seemed to reverberate in the surroundings I was in, and the echoing in my ears made my head recoil in fear.

Did Mrs Taylor have much to say when she spoke to you? I asked. I know she likes to speak at length when she has the opportunity. I feel completely embarrassed by the whole affair.… What do you suppose I was doing, standing alone opposite the playing field, wearing no coat and barefoot? Am I suddenly going mad?

I was almost pleading with Mum to say no.

She obliged. No, of course not, dear!

She gave me one of her very sympathetic yet slightly troubled looks, and said, Mrs Taylor, though not completely certain of course, believes she saw you suffering the after-effects of an epileptic attack.

I rubbed my head. My already painful and sore face was simply getting worse. Can you explain what an epileptic attack is, please?

I already knew what the response to my question would be, as Mum had never heard of epilepsy at that time either. I’m not exactly sure. I am informed by Mrs Taylor it is a kind of disorder of the brain. It is only the doctor who can explain it to you.

Such information, even though it was melodically spoken by her golden tongue, did not make me feel in good health. What makes Mrs Taylor believe with such confidence I have epilepsy?

Mrs Taylor has a son named Michael who has suffered from epilepsy since birth. Of course, she may be completely wrong in her judgement, but such uncharacteristic behaviour like that has made me a little concerned. Tomorrow morning I will make a doctor’s appointment. Now, do you want to completely change your wet clothes and come and rejoin your friends? They are all rather perturbed by this.

I felt very tempted at that exact moment to reply No, but instead I began to change my clothes and then hesitated before returning to the living room and joining the others. I was already feeling unusually paranoid, believing all my regular friends were laughing at me and would have some of their mockery to give me on my return. At least the house was extremely warm, which was a comfort to me. My whole body still felt like an ice cube.

At that peaceful and untroubled time in my life, I thought nothing of a doctor’s appointment, as I had disturbed my GP very infrequently. I returned to the party and blushed when my friends, positioned all around the living room, gawked directly at me with deep inquisitiveness and, I believed, some misgivings. At least nobody could see me blush, as my face was already crimson with soreness. I suggested a party game to divert their attention, and as the game began, I very quickly believed that the earlier bizarre affair had been totally forgotten.

Chapter One

While Just Young at Heart

To this day I can remember how my life used to be when I had no troubles and no awful health conditions diagnosed, and I had not sensed that any deterioration would happen in my future. I believe now that the time before my eleventh birthday was the only period in my life that was peaceful, undisturbed, and almost completely stress-free, which explains why I now can reflect on this time in my life with great fondness, something I occasionally like to do.

Almost from birth, my closest family attachment had always been to my mother. Before my eleventh birthday arrived, if I ever had any serious worries or concerns and needed to speak to someone who was willing to listen to my grumbling, then Mum was the person I always turned to, to listen to me, comfort me, and advise me. Simply listening to her speak with such a refined and melodic voice I found a most magnificent reassurance. Of my parents, it is Mum who is extremely well-educated, deep thinking, and strong-minded. She comes from a family with fortitude, self-confidence, and belief in their own abilities, belief they can overcome any problems, however complex they may be, and feelings of determination that they can achieve any goal they have in mind. Thankfully, I have inherited a great deal from Mum’s optimistic and determined side of the family. I knew, even when I was merely a young boy, how fortunate I was to have Mum’s determined and self-assured character inside me, as I frequently looked ambitiously towards my own life. Understanding from such an early age that throughout my life I always had someone as determined, self-willed, and thoughtful as Mum to support me if and when times became particularly challenging, whatever my demanding situation, has helped me through nearly all moments of concern. From the moment I was born, she was deeply considerate, self-sacrificing, and appreciative.