When my aunt comes to pick me up after school I tell her all about what happened.
“Good for you James! I’m glad you stood up to that jerk. He deserved it. If you wouldn’t have done it, I bet Gaga would’ve gone over and whooped his butt,” my aunt says smiling. Gaga, better known as my grandma, was oftentimes known for her frequent bar brawls back in the day. She is the toughest person I’ve ever known. She’s even made some of my teachers quit, because of her persistent demeanor.
“I know, but I thought I’d handle it myself first.” I say.
“Yeah well Gaga will be very proud when we tell her,” Heidi tells me.
“Hey Heidi? Can we go to the comic book store? I want to get the new Batman comic.”
“Yeah of course James.” Heidi says smiling. So from there we walked our usual route to the comic book store, the glossy green April leaves greeting me in the afternoon. The sun shining upon us, while the cool winds wrapped around us like a blanket, cars hurriedly buzzing by and dogs barking at each other across the streets. While Heidi and I observed it all strolling on our crisp tan sidewalk, that we journeyed upon everyday.
Soon enough we reach my comic store, my heaven. Nostalgia World, the red and white sign greeting me. I wander into the store, the glorious shelves upon shelves of action figures, and white comic book boxes greeting me. I dig and search until I find the magnificent Batman comics hidden in the last box. I grab the newest comic: “Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?", I then snatch some gobstoppers by the front counter, and checked out. My aunt and I then walk a couple doors down outside the strip mall to George Webb. When we walked in I could feel the smell of the warm delicious hamburgers tickling my nose, begging me to taste them.  We sat down with my mom, my grandma, and my other two aunts. They congratulated me on my victory by hugging me and high fiving me. My family are the most supportive people you will ever meet. I love them so much. Later that night, I read my new comic, and eat my gobstoppers. And that’s when it happens.

There I am, I am happily reading the adventures of Batman, while eating delicious gobstoppers. The sourness oozing in my mouth. I feel tiredness creeping up on me; my eyes starting to close, I feel the soft linen against my body; I hear the light pitter patter of the small rain on the roof. I’m dozing off into a sweet oblivion of comfortness in my bed. Later on, I abruptly find myself awakened by my demanding bladder, and I stumble out of bed, onto my feet. As usual whenever I get up too fast, my head begins to pound and swim in a haze of slight dizziness. But this dizziness isn’t how it usually is, it’s as if I’m on a spinning top, not able to control my actions. After a couple steps it’s as if the cord that connects my brain to my body completely snaps in half, because the next thing I know, my body is uncontrollably plummeting, to the hard cold floor. My eyes are wide open, but I am as helpless as a turtle on its back, collapsing and tumbling to the ground. Instantaneously my surroundings go pitch black, and my mind is no longer there. My body has taken over.

Gradually, as my eyes begin to open, my mind back in control, I feel a strong presence around me. I hear my name being called, but it’s an unrecognizable burly voice who calls it.
“James. James. James?”
“Wait I think it stopped.” It’s my aunt Heather. Where am I? What happened?
“James, do you know what just happened?” Says the unrecognizable burly voice from before. I now realize that it belongs to a man who is six feet tall, with dark hair, and warm brown eyes. He is wearing a bright neon greenish-yellow jacket. There are two more men behind him wearing the same uniform. Are these the paramedics? What are they doing here? What happened? There was a firefighter there as well, standing stiff in his radiant red uniform his eyebrows furrowed. These four, as well as my family, have encircled my body.
“I fell and passed out,” I proclaim, certain of what had occurred.
“Well, kind of. You had a seizure, James. Do you know what that is?” questions another paramedic.
Of course I know what a seizure is, it’s where you spaz out and start shaking. Then you start foaming at the mouth and stuff; kids at school joke about it all the time. It can’t be anything serious, right? I mean the worst that I’ve ever heard about a seizure is that some people can swallow their tongue or something. Although sad, that does sound pretty interesting.
The next thing I know, the paramedics are carrying me down the stairs from my bedroom, my entire family trailing behind, like baby ducklings helplessly following their mother. The paramedics are leading me through my living room, then the kitchen, and out the front door. The crisp cold air bites me as soon as we go outside, the luminous red ambulance blinding me against the pitch black night. The back doors fly open, waiting to take me to the hospital. What happened? What’s going on? Where are we going? I’m dropped onto a hideous neon orange stretcher, in the middle of the enormous metallic rear section of the ambulance. Before I know it, the engine roars, and we zoom off into the night.
My mom right at my side, her warm hand cradling my own, her dark green restless eyes, concerned and worried for her baby boy. I want to tell her that I’m okay, but I don’t even know that for myself. In my other hand I’m holding my favorite monkey that I’ve had since I was little. Her name is Monkey, and yes I know it’s a very creative name, but I was two okay? Usually my friends are horrified to see a tattered old stuffed animal, with only half of its face intact. I knew that Monkey was a goner as soon as my dog Joy had snatched her out of my hands, and simultaneously ripped her face off. Although I still love Monkey all the same, I know that right now I need her more than ever.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a paramedic with a rather young face and piercing blue eyes holding a needle connected to a thin see-through tube. No that’s not for me. I don’t do needles. As my eyes nervously trace the tube, I notice that it leads to an IV bag, full of some clear substance that I cannot identify. Oh god what is that? That weird liquid is NOT going in me! Before I have much time to fully comprehend the situation, the younger paramedic is next to me, saying that I’m going to feel a little pinch. NO NO NO NO! Under all of the pressure and confusion, the pain of the needle stabs into my wrist, and is amplified tenfold. Yet somehow it subsides almost instantly after a strip of white medical tape is placed over my gaping wound.
Soon enough we arrive at the hospital, it is towering over me, like a giant looking down on me. The paramedics hastily open the door, and guide my stretcher out through a rather dismal gray corridor. Every single second I’m twisting right, left, and down another hallway. The paramedics quickly scurry down the hallways, this combination makes me sick to my stomach, as if an ocean is about to burst out through the depths of my stomach. We then storm into the ER, rolling into a hollow room, they gently lay me onto a stiff blue hospital bed. The paramedics depart, and it’s just my mom and I. Questions explode inside of me like fireworks on the fourth of July.
“Mom what happened?” I ask
“You had a seizure and you fell, hitting the floor. Your teeth fell out because of the impact-”
“Wait my teeth are gone??” I say as horror rushes over me. I then feel the spot where my teeth once were, but now it’s just an empty gap. What am I going to do? Am I going to have to live the rest of my life like this? Oh crap, they’re gonna bully me even more now.
“Yeah, sorry buddy they did, I have them right here.” She says as she reveals out a plastic bag from her purse that’s traced with blood, and holds my teeth. They actually look really cool, I kinda wanna keep them. It was similar to when I was little and my baby teeth would fall out. Except then I got the sweet treat of candy, but now it will be the sweet treat of humiliation.
“Wait so what else happened.” I question.
“Well your body was shaking a lot; it lasted for about five minutes. I called 911 immediately, and they had the ambulance dispatched. The paramedics said it was a grand mal seizure, the most intense type. After that, they brought you to the hospital.” She informs me.
“Oh okay. How long am I going to be here for? I add.
“A couple days, so they can observe you to see if another seizure happens.” Oh great, this is a long term thing, isn’t it? This sucks.
“What do we do if another one comes?” I say, suddenly scared. I don’t want to have another one. I can’t have another one. I already lost my teeth. What other bad things could happen?
“Well the doctors will take care of you, they will probably put you on medication tonight through the IV. Handsome, it’s going to be okay” My mom reassures me as she sees the fear in glazing eyes.
“Okay.” I sigh, knowing there was nothing I could really do about any of this
“You should go to sleep James, you’ve had a long day.” My mom instructs me as I start to nod off, into sleep. I let my worries wash away, I clear my head and allow my mind to fall into the sweet nothingness of sleep.

When I wake up I don’t know what time it is. I glance over at my mom who is wide awake, her light brown curls dancing in the dim hospital light, as she studies her phone screen.
“Hey mom.” I say, but nothing come out when I try to speak. What’s happening? I attempt again.
“Mom!” I say, but no sound escapes my fair lips. I strive again and again to say that one word, but nothing comes out. It’s as if someone stole my vocal cords, because my lips are moving, but not a sound comes out. Panic floods through me, as I try to get her attention over and over again, but nevertheless she sits there as if she’s in another world. I begin to move the sheets to get her to notice what’s happening; and it works. My body then begins to violently shake, the cord between my mind and body snapping again. She then sprints to the door, the last thing I hear is my mom shouting for a doctor, but then the darkness takes over.

When I get up, there are strange people in white coats surrounding me. Who are they? What happened.
“James, you have epilepsy, you will take this medication everyday at night. We will adjust it as needed. You can go home whenever you wish,” said one of the strangers, who I assume is a doctor. The doctors then disappear, and I am left with my mom again.
“What happened? Why couldn’t I say anything?” I asked more confused and frightened than ever.
“I couldn’t hear you buddy, you got another seizure, but on the bright side we can go home, and you don’t have to go to school tomorrow” My mom said trying to smile. Great, so I had another seizure, will probably have one tomorrow too, and after that I get to go to school where kids will make fun of me all day. Yay.
After that we go home, I go to my room, dog tired, and pass out in my bed. I’ve learned that epilepsy makes you very tired, so that, along with the minimum amount of sleep I got at the hospital, is what caused me to be asleep for the next 13 hours. The day after, wasn’t very eventful, just a day of sleeping, eating, and pooping. Just another day of my life. The next day, they made an announcement to the entire school, that I was in the hospital, and that they should pray for me. That’s how it goes at Catholic schools, at my previous Catholic school they told everyone that I had pneumonia and to send their prayers.
However, instead of receiving their prayers I received their mockery. My classmates would constantly make epilepsy jokes at me, thinking it was hilarious that I acquired this disease that I had absolutely no control over. They also teased me about my teeth, thinking that I looked like a homeless man. They harassed me even more, which I didn’t think could even be possible at the time. I could tell my teachers cared, but they just treated me with those puppy dog eyes. The: “I feel bad for you but I don’t know what to do” eyes. It was absolute hell. Meanwhile, about once a week, I would be forced to go to the hospital after another epilepsy attack again. Over the years, my epilepsy would go up and down, depending on the medications prescribed to me. It would be from once a week, to twice a week, to once a week, to once a month, it was very sporadic for awhile.
Then it became constant. Too constant. In seventh grade, I began to predict when it would happen. Sometimes it would happen, sometimes it wouldn’t. All I know is that I would get a deep pit in my stomach every time I thought I knew. I then began to believe that it would happen every night. So I was terrified to go to sleep, because I feared for my life. But I was also afraid to be awake, because depression crept up on me, and made me want to die during the day. So either way I felt like I was going to die. I then started to go to therapy where they would prescribe me more meds, but this time it was for antidepressants.
That’s when the side effects began. The loss of hair and the gain of weight. Aka, the loss of self esteem. I would be made fun of, even more, because of my stylish comb over. My epilepsy lasted for six years. Eventually I would just wake up to the paramedics and know what happened. I wasn’t medically cleared until the summer after tenth grade; I hadn’t had a seizure for two and a half years. But even then, I was still fearful that I would get a seizure and that my two and a half years would start over again. If you are off of meds for two and a half years, and don’t have a seizure, the doctors say that you don’t have epilepsy. So thankfully I never had a seizure again, and was released from the burden of epilepsy.
But through it all I still made jokes, I still had a smile, even though I was miserable inside. It took part of my childhood away, it made the weird kid even weirder, and all the kids like to pick on the person who isn’t normal. Although, my family, my friends, and the doctors, did say I was resilient through it all. I continued to keep fighting the battle, no matter how hopeless I became. No matter how many dodgeballs came my way. I still kept dodging. Overall, it happened. It’s made me who I am today: Batman.