Hello, my name is Edward E. Pulido, and I'm 31 years old. For the past five years, I've worked with adults with developmental disabities, which includes mental problems, and drug problems, all kinds of problems that you would find in the natural world. I even dealt with people with epilepsy including church members.

Until it happened to me I never had to worry about any kind of sickness or illness for that matter. I have always lived a pretty good, healthy life. On April 1, 2004, I woke up in the morning around 6:00 AM,got dressed, and left for work like always. I had to be in Lamont, CA by 8:00 AM for a important meeting with one of my clients, and my boss with a company called Kern Regional Center (place that deals with developmentally disabled adults, and children).

That day was pretty simple, just like every day. Like usual, I drove to Lamont, and when the meeting was over, I asked my manager if I could go home and take a nap. I was feeling a little tired, and drowsy so I went home, and relaxed for a while because that night I had another meeting at 3:00 in Bakersfield with a client I was assigned to.

When I arrived home for the afternoon, I began to complain about headaches and I took some aspirin, and relaxed. My sister came into the living room where I was relaxing and asked me if I wanted to go with her to pay some utility bills for my mom, and then we would go and have some lunch. I obliged and began to go and help pay bills.

When we arrived I began to feel heavy. My little nephew began to feel so heavy, that I could no longer hold his hand. All I remember saying to him was "Go to your mama", and next thing I knew everything was turning, and turning, my hands and body began to go into convulsions, and I fell to the ground. What seemed to be like just a few minutes, turned out to be a few hours, and I woke up at Mercy Hospital on Truxtun Street in Bakersfield, CA.

At first, I thought "OK, what’s really going on here, why am I in a hospital room, and going to the MRI room?" I saw the paramedics asking me some questions, like my social security number, who the President of the USA was, etc. Most of those questions to me were bogus and just plain weird, but for some crazy reason, I could not answer them at all, all I could say was,"I don’t know", or for the President one, my response was “It’s the one I don’t like.”

"When I arrived at the emergency room, they must have drugged me so much that I was laughing the whole time, but deep inside of me, I just wanted to scream my head off. I felt all alone, and scared. It got even worse when the doctor said that I was diagnosed with epilepsy. I told the doctor, “You must be joking, no one in my family on both sides has epilepsy." He asked me if I had any head injury in the past 10 years or less, and all I could remember was that my family were victims of the Northridge Earthquake in 1994, and a shelf fell on my head. I do remember that for the longest time, I had migraine headaches, and I took ibuprofen to ease the pain.

Some nights before the seizures, I would just fall asleep with the pain in my right side. Pain would just put me to sleep, until I could’t handle it, then I would go and take some aspirin, and relax.

When I returned home on the 7th, that evening, I had another grand mal seizure, and again was taken to the emergency room. I told the Doctor “I should have just stayed here, I just left here this afternoon, and here I am back again”. The nurses made my stay a little bit better, they just helped me to just gain my confidence in myself, and not to worry. I was in good hands.

But, when the hospital scenes and everything was over as far as diagnoses and being in the hospitals were concerned, that’s when reality began for me. For the past 30 years of my life, I never had to take so much medication. Besides my diagnosis of epilepsy; I was also diagnosed with Diabetes.

I was so surprised to find out such things. When the doctor said I had a head injury I did remember the earthquake my family was in in 1994. I had a shelf over my bed for 15 years, I never thought about moving it else where, but unfortunately, Mother Nature decided my room needed a change for the good I guess.

My darkest side of this situation was that I felt so all alone. I applied for medical, and MIA from the hospital, and even SSI, and I was rejected from all. The more I tried to apply, the more I heard "No". My parents saw and witnessed all my emotions, my sister came to my rescue, when she was not working, she and I would go either shopping, or somewhere where I don’t have to be in a crowd, just her and I alone, and I would try to talk things out with her help.

The more worried I got, the more I would get sick. I was always worried about my bills, meds, and applying for help etc. Above all, I was worried that I would never get to drive again with this condition. When the doctor said that I was dangerous with the other drivers, and that he submitted a letter to the state health department, and the DMV about this condition, it really hurt me. My driver's license was the greatest freedom I had. I loved to drive anywhere in the state, and was never afraid to travel even out of state if given a chance or invitation. My job was to travel from city, to city, place to place; I was in training to be a director of a supportive living company.

I love to work with people with developmental disabilities. It was my pleasure for them to depend on me to take them to their counseling sessions, doctor’s appointments, etc. I also worked with developmental adults with behavior disabilities. I expected a lot from my job, I wanted to be something in this company, and I wanted to prove that I can do anything I can if I just put my mind to practice, and believe in myself.

But when the doctor said that I would have to take some time to off from work, and restart my life again was the hardest thing I ever had to listen. When I came home from the emergency room at 3:00 the next morning, I knew that I wasn’t ready for this new life I now had.

Nights came and went, and I had to deal with the new Eddie. There were times my body would shake, I couldn’t tell if I was having seizures, or if my sugars were low (I am a new patient of Diabetes). There were days I had an attitude that just scared me to death. I would get angry at the littlest things, or one second I would be upset, and then the other second I was crying up a storm, or just plain depressed.

When it comes to depression, I’m sure anyone can relate, it is very hard to go through. Every time I was depressed, I would stay in my room all by myself, I wouldn’t go out, or talk with the family all I wanted to do was just die. I would have so much anxiety and frustration, that it would make me angry at the world. All I could think was no one really cares for me or my feelings.

I would go to church, and just sit, and not listen to the messages given from the pastor. Everything was just bla, bla, bla, and nothing else to me. I would sometimes come to church and the next thing I knew I was spacing out, I was there, but I really wasn’t. I’d come home, and all I wanted to do was just go to sleep. I would sleep for hours or sometimes the whole day, and get up for a few minutes or maybe a few hours, and then go back to bed.

One night, I got a terrible anxiety attack. I jumped out of bed, and I ran into the living room. I got so depressed that I got a knife, and my bottle of Dilantin medication, and was ready to end this problem. I was about to stab myself when suddenly my dad came into the living room, and saw what I was about to do, and then he sat down and pleaded with me to talk about it with him. When other people would try to talk with me, my response was “Do you know what its like to have epilepsy? Or do you even understand the feeling of living or just plain living with it?” When they would respond “No I don’t” then I would be blunt, and would tell them “Then don’t tell me you understand, because you don’t know anything about what I’m going through.”

For the longest time, I felt like I was a Jack in the Box trapped in a box all bounded, with big rocks on the top covering the box, and I’m screaming as loud as I can and no one is listening. I got to the point that I began to shut my family around me, not listening to them, I tried, and tried to communicate to them, but I just didn’t know what to say. For one long and tiring year I went through the emotions, and no one understood what I was going through. My sister understood in some cases because she was there the two major times I had the grand mal seizures.

Then one day, my sister spoke to her manager about my condition, and she referred me to Kern County Epileptic Society, and they became a huge blessing to me. I finally realized that I’m not alone. For one year I didn’t even know there was such a society available here in Kern County. My group counselor advised me on how to deal with seizures, and how to live with epilepsy.

I understand now that it’s a medical condition, and it’s ok and not to feel alone. My short time of counseling with my group counselor really made me feel so good inside, and she told me that committing suicide is not the answer, it will only make matters with the family worse.

I have to say that I couldn’t have gone this far if it wasn’t for the help of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who brought me through this hard valley, my parents whom I just love the most, and my wonderful sister, who is also my hero, she was there at both times of the seizures, hospital visits. Their strength was my strength, their advice, and teachings made an impact in my life. My pastor’s teaching and sermons also impacted my life.

What more can I say? I’m a blessed man. I have never seen my God so powerful and awesome before, and I’m glad that he was with me the whole time. Thank you Epilepsy.com for giving me an opportunity to tell my story, I hope it is a blessing to anyone who reads this story, because it isn’t just a story, I’m still learning each day about different symptoms, and how to deal with it, but I know that I’m not alone, and neither are you.

Edward E. Pulido