Job and Internship Hunting in a time of political transition

While I do my best to stay out of politics and stay neutral when advising folks on jobs, I have to make some comment on the times we live in. My business is, in some ways, the business of politics. Or, more specifically, helping others learn to navigate the business of politics to land that dream internship or job. 

Depending on when you read this r, we may or may not know the outcome of this year's presidential election, and subsequent down-ballot races. Regardless, over the next few months we will likely see a fair amount of opportunities on the Hill, and potentially within the executive branch and throughout the city. Below, I'll try to highlight some high level expectations that may impact your future internship and job search.

1. Get your resume in order. A typical job on the Hill, in a political appointee position, or in a  lobbying group tends to look for a one page resume. For executive branch positions, often a federal resume is needed. Check here for a short video on how to create a Federal resume.  
2. Employment trends by outcome: 
   • The Incumbent Administration Wins the White House: Typically you see some turnover in high level appointees (i.e. the secretary/deputy secretary level). If you’re interested in working for someone you admire who is moving from the executive branch to private industry, note where they’re going and what they will be working on next. If you want to work in the incumbent administration and be considered for an appointed position, check here for open positions. 
   • The Challenger Wins the White House: There will be a lot of movement in the city overall. If you are interested in throwing your hat in the ring for an appointed position, you can submit your application here. Otherwise, similar to point ‘a’ above, pay attention to whom is being appointed, the positions or organizations they are abdicating and put in your resume to follow those who you'd want to work for, or organizations in which you'd like to work. Note that a lot of appointed persons come from Congress, or other leadership positions in think tanks, advocacy groups, and the like. Should this happen, I'll do my best to stay on top of who goes where - you can always check the Washington Post's Political Appointee Tracker (a project which I helped create back in the day!)
3. The Center for Presidential Transition. The Partnership for Public Service, a nonpartisan organization, has a number of amazing articles, speaker series and a podcast called, Transition Lab, about all the things to consider in a transition year. Be sure to take a listen and take some of their tips into consideration if you are hoping for a position in the White House, whether it's this year, or in years to come. 

Regardless of who wins the White House, transition years are a time of change. Check out this article from Traverse Jobs  for tips on how to shape your recent experiences to help promote your skills. Also, note that other sites, such as Daybook jobs (offering a three month premium trail) and Tom Manatos Jobs can be incredibly helpful finding jobs in politics). 

If the election didn’t go the way you expected (whether that is at the presidential level, or perhaps a more local level), take note about the areas of importance to you. Look for opportunities to get involved, again starting on the local level by volunteering for organizations. Maybe you take this as a call to action to run for something yourself. It doesn’t have to be big, but there are a lot of ways to remain politically involved regardless of how your candidates perform(ed). 

In Honor of #ADA30 Reposting a reflection on working with an invisible disability

What it's like to be invisible

This blog first appeared at https:// usodep.blogs.govdelivery.com/2015/09/10/what-its-like-tobe-invisible/

Ahhh… Invisibility. It’s one of those superpowers we dream about as kids and, let’s face it, as adults too. How often do we wish we could be a fly on the wall, to listen in on conversations, to see what people are like when nobody’s looking? “To be invisible,” we think, “now that would be cool!”

Well, for those of us with invisible disabilities, being invisible is not always as great as one may think. On the one hand, no one can tell if we have a disability just by looking at us. And for those who face visible disabilities, I can only imagine how difficult that must be. Yet for those faced with an invisible disability, it can be difficult for us in school or the workplace to not feel understood as we deal with our own health issues. Many people see us as able bodied adults, and wonder why we can’t work an extra few hours, why we take so long doing problems or taking an exam or why we can’t pull our own weight. In short, it can be a very confusing and lonely experience.

According to the American’s with Disabilities Act, enacted in 1990, a disability qualifies as “a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits major life activities; has a record of such an impairment; or is regarded as having such an impairment.” Some of the major life activities include:

• Caring for one’s self 
• Performing manual tasks 
• Walking
• Seeing
• Hearing
• Speaking
• Breathing
• Learning
• Working 

In the case of invisible disabilities, some of these major activities may be compromised occasionally, or intermittently depending on the nature of the disability. Thus, the distinction of having, “a record of such impairment,” is key. In this case, the law helps people who, while they may not be impaired at a given moment, their condition may have, or could result in their inability to perform major life activities. These may include learning disabilities, mental disabilities, and whole slew of chronic conditions that can strike anyone, anywhere, at any time.

For me, having epilepsy qualifies as a disability under the ADA. Although most days I look and am able to act without an impairment, when I have a seizure major life activities are definitely in jeopardy, as I lose consciousness, stop breathing and lose control of my body. Even after my seizure ends, I physically look fine, though my mind is in a haze and I have difficulty with memory, vocabulary or other cognitive symptoms – often impacting my ability to learn and work. It wasn’t until my last seizure I realized how frustrating it was. During my most recent seizure I fell on a hard, tiled floor. After my ER visit my arm was in a sling, my face was bruised and I had a nice batch of stitches. And in an odd way, I was glad because for once I felt like my physical appearance mirrored just how battered my brain felt.

The thing is, it shouldn’t have to be this way – to be glad that one’s invisible disability is visible in order to get the help one needs. So what can be done then? What do we do when we are faced with the “gift” of invisibility? How can we as students or workers get the help we need without putting ourselves at risk of discrimination? I believe the only way is to be more public about our invisible disabilities, and to take steps on educating the public exactly what that means, and how others can help. Below are a few steps I have found to be helpful in my own journey:

Tell your employer about your disability 

In my own life, I have had to deal with the question of whether or not to tell my employers about my epilepsy. When I was diagnosed I was working at a major consulting firm, and after a grueling few months of burning the candle at both ends, I had a seizure. I was told by my doctor that there was no way I could continue the hours I had without putting myself at risk for more seizures. But I was loathe to seem like I couldn’t do my job like everyone else. So what did I do? I used every resource that I had in hand, including a few friends who work within the disability world. They helped me recognize that epilepsy was covered by the ADA and that I had the right to “reasonable accommodations” to do my job.

In going in to talk to my bosses and my HR representative, I requested “reasonable accommodations” in the form of a regular (i.e. 40 hour) workweek and minimal travel. And due to the protections afforded by the ADA, my work was more than happy to comply. I also decided to tell the people I worked with, so that they knew how to help me if I had a seizure. But before I did any of this, I had to do my homework, understand the law, understand my job and ultimately become my own advocate.

Manage your life to have the balance you need and recognize your very real (though occasionally frustrating) limitations 

At my job, I mentioned that they were able to provide me reasonable accommodations in the form of reasonable hours, limited travel and so on. However, as I moved on and up in the firm, more came to be expected of me. The firm kept waiting for me to get “back to normal” and I was having a more difficult time explaining why I could not buy into the corporate culture. Ultimately, I recognized that while I could do my job well, given my very real limitations, I could not be as successful as I, or the firm, wanted me to be in the future. I decided to leave my job for one that was still challenging, but not nearly as stressful. It was one of the toughest choices I made to leave a lucrative career… but it was worth it!

Thus, finding the right job that will work with you, and not expect you to “return to normal,” is hard to find, but very much worthwhile. The world rewards workaholics, super moms and super dads and people who “stand up in the face of adversity.” And I am one of those type-A people who want to be the best. But I’ve had to learn to respect my body, and not just respect it, but embrace it. And though it is not easy to roll against the tide, I feel much more grounded and content than many people I meet.

Educating the broader public about your disability and how to help accomodate 

That brings me to my last point – that having good work-life balance necessary to manage invisible disabilities, and knowing how to *gasp* ask for help, makes us superheroes of a different kind. Those of us struggling with invisible disabilities (really any kind of disability) can do a lot to promote dialogue about what it means to be healthy. Whether we have epilepsy, MS, mental disorders, a learning disability, we all have something valuable to teach in a world that is becoming increasingly fixated on “how much a person is worth.” We have innate value in understanding ourselves, our minds, our bodies, and can teach others how to respect not just us, but themselves as well. But it takes courage. For me, it means no work email after hours, not being able to be as social after work as I would like, getting a solid 8 hours of sleep, eating well and giving myself plenty of down time to decompress. Not courageous in a big way, but I’d like to think in my own way I’m helping to change the conversation

In truth, being invisible isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be, and to that end, I am not afraid to stand up for myself and what I believe. There are many options out there, but you have to be willing to be patient with yourself and others, understand the law and what it does, or does not cover, as well as being willing to be courageous and stand up for what you believe. And part of me telling my story, I hope, helps others to feel comfortable telling theirs.

Beth is presently a Career Advisor at Georgetown University. She was diagnosed with epilepsy in 2008, and has spent much time counteracting today’s workaholic culture to be better accommodating to people with disabilities. Find her @beth_schill.

I am ... fearless!

A number of years ago, when I worked at Deloitte, I had a cool experience that has helped to define my own personal battle with epilepsy.

I was a participant in a national meeting on diversity and inclusion - where I had the honor of being the national representative for those at the firm with disabilities. At the conclusion of the meeting, our sponsoring partner passed around a bowl of key-chains. We were told to pick, without looking, one of them, and then tell the group what it said. The thought, the partner told us, was that this key-chain was choosing us - not the other way around.

When it got to my turn, I lifted the key-chain up and it said, on one side, "I am..." and on the other, "...fearless." When I told this to my group, there were smiles all around and murmurs of approval from my co-workers. Yes, they all affirmed, you are fearless. Someone went on to explain that they thought that what I was doing - being public with my epilepsy, was truly courageous. At a firm where the culture, in part, measured success based on how many hours you could work, and had a frenetic pace, my epilepsy was often seen as an impediment to success. My epilepsy physically and mentally got in the way of how well I could complete my work duties. The belief of my coworkers that what I was doing in giving voice to others who had similar challenges facing them, gave me hope and sustained me.

Yet, that label of believing I am fearless has not always stood the test of time, or my epilepsy journey...

Not always brave

The truth is that I don't always feel brave. With every successive seizure I've had, I feel more an more crippled by fear. Fear of how long my recovery will take. Fear of how I will help support my husband and child. Fear of whether or not my work will accept me as I am. Fear of when and how the next one will strike. And fear, to be honest of death.

After my most recent seizure the last fear felt especially close. Part of that was due to the situation around my seizure. I fell to the street, hit my head, and was bleeding a lot. The EMS crew called was worried that I had fractured my skull, and so I was whisked to a hospital trauma center. I was slowly coming to as I remember being wheeled into the ER, where all of a sudden over a dozen medical professionals surrounded me, asking me questions, and even cutting off my clothes. I vaguely remember asking if I was dying, and if I could get a priest. While my injuries were no more serious than a concussion and some severe post-ictal symptoms, I've never been so fearful as a result of a seizure before. The fear stayed with me, and with those closest to me.

Dealing with the fear of others

Since the latest seizure six months ago, fear of another seizure has become a constant companion. It is never paralyzing... rather just always there besides me, like a shadow. Part of that was this past seizure was not predicated by my typical trigger of stress. In fact, my life since I changed career fields has been the healthiest (and happiest) I've been. The uncertainty has plagued me and those I love. In the months since, anytime I've felt odd, or any time I made a silly noise, or act even slightly odd (joking around with my toddler, for instance), those near me jump and come running to see if I am ok. Even my daughter, who witnessed the latest seizure will, out of the blue, ask me why I fell down in the street. Or, lovingly, when she hears my alarm for my medication, remind me to "Take your medicine, Mommy."

While I am so blessed to have people around me who love me, it does sometimes cause me to fear and to doubt myself. In past entries for this blog, I have written about how I haven't let epilepsy stop me - and the wonderful and amazing things I've done in the interim.

Yet, now, I have more to live for than myself. I have a loving partner, beautiful daughter, and God-willing, another one joining our family over the summer. They, quite literally, depend on me staying safe and healthy in order for their own well-being. That fear of leaving them - even not being able to participate in their lives as normal, can be a cause of fear.

But fear, I've learned, also has a cousin...

Determined not to let fear get the better of me

As I've been working through my fear (not alone - and sometimes with the help of many wonderful professionals, family and friends), I've come to recognize that fear actually has a cousin - the other side of the coin, if you will. Its name is determination. I think determination blossoms not in denying that fear exists, but that we recognize it, look it in the face, and get on with the business of living. Just writing this gives me strength, and hope (OK, I'll admit it - a Game of Thrones quote of "not today," comes to mind, as does Roosevelt's stirring line, "The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself." I can't help it!). 

So what to do if you are fearful? The first is to name it for what it is. Write your fears down in a journal, share them with a friend, a minister, a therapist, or other person whom you trust. Sometimes saying the fear out loud makes it not so scary. 

Second is talk to your neurologist or doctor. Some of these meds we're all on can do a number on your emotions. Neurologists are used to this and could help you find ways to combat the side effects of medication, or can work with you on dosage or types of medication you are on. It doesn't hurt to at least ask. 

Third, I find that doing something small every day that helps you to regain courage is helpful. If you have more severe epilepsy - it could be as small as getting up and ready, or taking a walk around the block. For me, it means going on my first solo business trip in years. Am I scared and nervous? Yes - but I know that doing this will be a good step for me. 

Last, believe in yourself. A therapist a number of years ago really helped me put this all in perspective. That yes, I do have epilepsy, and yes there are things that could happen to me as a result of seizures that don't happen to others. Yet, life itself is a huge gamble. And life contains risks. That doesn't stop others from walking out their front door. Even on days when I am fearful, I remember this... fear doesn't mean you lack courage. It means you face the day with even more bravery than the average person. And so, I head out the door, my head held high, my hands on my key-chain that proclaims what is in my heart... that I am... fearless. 

Hope!

"Why do we spend our lives striving to be something that we would never want to be, if only we knew what we wanted? Why do we waste our time doing things which, if we only stopped to think about them, are just the opposite of what we were made for?"  -- Thomas Merton

At my job, we are definitely at the time of year when students, in addition to midterms, are really fretting about next steps. Will they get a “good” internship? Will they find a job? What will it mean for them to work in politics, or government in such a tense atmosphere? Are they ready?

These are all totally normal things to feel as a student, or even a professional making a new change. In addition, these are turbulent times. My colleagues and I were reflecting recently on Dr. Martin Luther King's "I've Been to the Mountaintop" speech . There are so many parallels to the late 60s and today: a society torn apart by violence, hateful rhetoric and extreme viewpoints. It makes any professional or student looking for a job wonder: is it worth it? Is anything I do ever going to make a change? 

And just as Dr. King alluded to the idea of Moses looking on the promised land, and knowing he wouldn't necessarily enter it, I can tell you that there is. The young people I interact with every day are an inspiration to me. I left over a decade of consulting and researching federal policy, feeling worn out and jaded. In the year I’ve been at my new job, I am amazed at the young people's desire to fix injustices and to be men and women for others. Multiply this by the amount of young people out there - both in colleges and university, and those not, and it gives me hope for the future.

Part of the job of a career professional is to help students and other understand how to link their passions and desires to what employers need, and even more importantly what the world needs of them to do. As part of a Jesuit-Catholic institution, one of our values is to help educate the whole person, and encourage students to think introspectively about why they want to pursue one given career path over another. We listen to their dreams and concerns, and point them to next steps. We give them the tools to help them both as students, and as young professionals. Above all, we hope to instill in each student the certainty that they each have something wonderful to share with our world - a job, a career, a calling, a talent - that no one else has.

Being a part of another person's journey toward self-discovery is truly a privilege. It gives me joy and hope to see our future before us. 

The power of your story...

I am a bit late to the game, but I just recently started listening to a number of amazing podcasts. Most recently, I found myself nodding in agreement to This Anthro Life, where the podcasters spoke of the importance of storytelling in our day and age. I could not agree more. I find myself thinking of stories more and more, as I help advise students on how to get internships and jobs both during and after their undergraduate years. Doing so, I found myself asking this simple question: why me? What about my story is so special that I can help others discover theirs? In thinking about and writing my story, I began to understand the key question that has driven my career thus far... it is one much bigger than anything I can address in one blog, or even in a year or two. It is, in fact a question that drives much of our lives: how can organizations anywhere get the people they need, and keep them happy, and engaged at work?

I share my story here as a way of pivoting this blog - I hope to add to the information out there for  anthropologists, who are looking for new opportunities to use their anthropological skills for organizations of every kind.

So here is my story:
I attended the University of Michigan, where I had a dual major in cultural anthropology and social theory. Throughout much of my college career, I saw myself entering the Peace Corps or other volunteer service, and then entering the foreign service and maybe someday being Secretary of State. And while I haven’t ruled that last goal out completely, my life has taken me on a very different, but incredibly awesome path.

While an undergraduate I had the amazing opportunity to travel to Tibet, where I spent a summer and learned two important things. The first was that living far away from home in austere conditions was incredibly challenging both physically and mentally - and I wasn’t sure about three months, let alone a few years. I also saw abject poverty, and inequality the likes of which I’ve never seen, and wondered, “how did this happen?” This question led me to study the impact of corporations on issues of socio-cultural and political change while I then pursued a Masters of Philosophy in [International] Development Studies at the University of Cambridge.

Following my graduation, the desire to better understand corporate  institutions led me to seek a career in the consulting world. I figured there was no better way to gain exposure to the world of business than by advising other businesses. I got my feet wet at the Corporate Executive Board, and later at Deloitte Consulting’s Federal Practice - where I only intended to stay long enough to pay off my debts. But, as it happens,  life had other plans. I found out that I was good at consulting - good enough to get into a leadership and innovation fellowship called GovLab, where I was able to meet with brilliant thinkers in industry and learned how to apply their ideas to government issues. I co-authored a paper on the importance of diversity of thought - an issue I continue to research in my free time.

My appreciation of the complexity of how employers can get people who think differently, challenge assumptions, and ultimately lead to better organizational growth,  deepened when I was offered the chance to manage research at the Partnership for Public Service here in D.C. I led a team of researchers, and had the amazing experience to interview and present to Deputy Secretaries, CIOs, CTOs, CHCOs and other executive leadership of both federal agencies, public policy groups, consulting firms and members of Congress. I helped them re-examine ways to get good cybersecurity talent into government, increase innovation, and identify the major management challenges facing the new administration.

The research I’ve done throughout my career, and exposure to client’s human capital issues has led me to conclude that there is one key challenge facing industries around the world, and that is: how can I get the people I need, and keep them happy, and engaged at work?

This question is so fundamental to how life unfolds. Finding a meaningful job, a good boss, and a schedule that gives you the ability to live the life you desire to have is a constant learning process. Just when you think you have yourself figured out and your plan set - you learn a new fact that calls your assumptions into question. That continues throughout life. Constantly learning and seeing new possibilities should not be the full of stress and worry - but seen as an opportunity.

There is no silver bullet that can guarantee you the perfect job. A liberal arts education equips you all with the skills you will need for success, and it is now up to you to communicate that to employers.

I look forward to sharing what I discover, here, and hopefully helping to add to the story that This Anthro Life hopes to promote.

Job Hunting with Epilepsy

This post is part of the Epilepsy Blog Relay™ which will run from June 1 through June 30. Follow along and add comments to posts that inspire you!

Since I last wrote for the Relay, my life has changed quite a bit. As many of you know, I was worn out from the whole working mom thing. I couldn't do my job well - the side effects of a grand-mal seizure, and increased medication levels messed with my memory and cognition. Which, when you are a manager at a DC think tank - does no good. I tried talking with my bosses to find reasonable accommodations - and they were really good about it. However, it was quickly becoming clear that something had to give... and it wasn't going to be my health. 

So I left in mid-March, without a new job lined up. But absolutely spent. That first week I was hit by the stomach flu and laid in bed for most of the week. I slept a lot and it took me a good month before I felt the veil of post-seizure depression started to lift. 

Slowly I started getting back out there, having informational interviews, dusting off my resume, and applying to dozens of jobs. But high in my list of job considerations is finding a place that respects my needs to have a calm working environment, that still provides meaningful work where I can grow, without the crazy expectations to be constantly going up the career ladder. 

It. Has. Been. Hard. I look fine on the outside, and my credentials on paper make it seem like I am a go-getter. And I am - until I have a seizure. In the months after one, my brain is like a giant pile of mush. Some days I am coherent and can kick butt. Most days, however, I am just kinda ... there .. struggling to remember bits of conversations, trying to get myself organized, but just wiped out. 

Ultimately I am looking for an employer who will accept me as I am, epilepsy and all. Where I don't have to try to explain away the days when I am foggy, or can't seem to concentrate, or sometimes cannot even answer questions in a coherent manner. Honesty has been my calling card as I interview. I have been pretty brutal in asking tough questions of employers about the nature of work, and hypothetical situations. I do it because I know that a work life that allows me to take care of my health and my family is of number one importance. That a 35-40 hour workweek is the maximum I can do. I have been dropped from interview processes for that reason, and I have turned down completely good job offers for that reason, as well. 

That part has been difficult for me - to pass on opportunities that I know could be exciting and lucrative - that would lead to a life that in many ways would be "easier" financially for my family. But, I am just not willing to take that risk with my health. And the fear of a job taking too much from me is something I don't want to admit gets in my way of pursuing my dreams, but it does. I get mad sometimes that it is a lot more difficult for me to do tasks that I used to take for granted, or that I cannot take some amazing opportunities because I know the hours will be long, or I will need to be available to answer emails at any hour of the day or night. To look a perfectly good offer in the face and say, "Yeah this isn't really going to work for me." 

On the upside, a lot of people I've been talking to admire my honesty in conversations. It helps us all see whether or not I would be a good fit for the organization and the job in question. Many people also respect my need to place myself and my family first - and in some cases I almost detect a longing in their eyes that say, "I wish I could do that!." 

In the meantime, I keep taking one day at a time. Hoping that we can figure this thing called life out. And I remain hopeful that in the long run, my honesty will pay off, and I will find a job that helps me to provide for my family, stay healthy, be a good mom, and also enables me to be the worker I know I can be. 

In the meantime, if anyone has any good leads - send 'em my way :)

Taking advantage of the time off work to get outside and enjoy the sunshine and scenery!

NEXT UP: Be sure to check out the next post tomorrow by Kristin Quinn and Sunovion  at livingwellwithepilepsy.com. For the full schedule of bloggers visit livingwellwithepilepsy.com. 

Don’t miss your chance to connect with bloggers on the #LivingWellChat on June 30 at 7PM ET.

A fun side venture

Hi friends! Over the past six weeks, I have had the pleasure of blogging for GovLoop. Its a media organization dedicated to helping federal government workers learn more about what is going on in politics and policy that impact their jobs. I've been following GovLoop for years, and since I am in the space where I have time on my hands, I've decided to try out some blogging.

At any rate, please do check out my posts. They have to do a lot with finding and keeping a job, as well as tips on disabilities and jobs, and how to handle failure. Here are a few of my favorites. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to comment and add your thoughts, too.

An invitation to rest

I can hear the rain gently falling on the window. A calm, pitter patter that soothes the senses. The world looks grey, bleary and beckons us to stay inside. To rest a while. To take off your shoes, curl up with a good book while all the dust and pollen and pollutants are washed clean, and the earth made fresh and whole.

In my own life, I've recieved this same invitation to rest. No doubt many of you could tell in my last blog post how exhausted I was. It was true - I was at the end of my energy reserves. I knew that something was going to have to give. This time, I knew it would not be me, my health, or my family. That left one option: in mid-March I left my job.

It was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made. I truly loved my job (or perhaps 85% of it). Unfortunately, that other 15% that I didn't like was starting to loom larger and larger - demanding more time and energy than I had to give. Since my seizure in December, I hadn't recovered fully. I had issues with high level cognition, memory, and concentration. The harder I tried to make things work at work the more that any modicum of success seemed to elude me. I was crying on a daily basis - exhausted from the moment I woke up to when I would crawl into bed. I had no energy for even the simple things of life - and that worried me. I became increasingly concerned that I was going to have a seizure, and that is never a good place to be.

I raised this with my boss and with HR - hoping, praying that something else in the organization could be found that would be a better match. But, alas, that was not to be. The pace of my organization was increasing across the board - and I knew that simply changing jobs internally wasn't really going to give me the balance I needed. So it was with heavy heart, but ultimately a lot of understanding and compassion from those at work, that I left.

It has been a wonderful choice. When I first left, I felt like a failure. So many other women can do the working mom thing, why couldn't I? What kind of example was I setting for my daughter? How was I helping my family by leaving this job that I so enjoyed? Well, for one, I feel more like myself than I have in years.

I recognized that in leaving my work, my life and body was calling me to come away, to rest a while. And it has been good. I have been more present to my family and friends in simple ways that I had forgotten. I have energy to call people in the evening, or to do little things around the house that have been bugging me forever. And since my seizure two years ago, and the birth of my child, for the first time in a long time I feel physically and emotionally healed. I don't feel like the edge of my soul is worn ragged - snagging on every little inconvenience life throws my way. Instead, I've been told by a few people that there is a light in my eyes that hasn't been there for some time.

Sure, as a mom, I am tired, but it is the good tired you feel when you know your day and life has been worth living. I haven't done anything in terms of worldly success - no published papers, no tasks at work checked off. But I have been there for myself and those I love - and that has made all the difference.

Now - onto the interesting quest of finding a job with a culture that is a better fit for me. Somewhere where my desire to have meaningful work - but work that is not overshadowed by my life - possible. Where I can help others recognize truths in themselves to be the people they are meant to be; sharing their gifts and talents with those around them.

Also for any moms who read this - feel free to comment about how you either succeed or fail at this whole working mom/work-life balance thing. I think the reality of this all is not something that is discussed nearly enough.

On being a guinea pig!

Back when I was first pregnant, I didn't realize quite how much I would start to feel like a human pincushion. Having epilepsy meant that I went in for lots of extra tests, bloodwork, and the like to make sure all was healthy with me and baby. I got so used to giving blood on a weekly basis that it started to not phase me at all.

And I was happy to do it - ...

So this week, I signed up to get an Embrace watch by Empatica and didn't realize that as part of it I would be participating in a study to see both how well the watch works, its accuracy, as well as additional information about certain biometrics. Its supposedly supposed to help in further releases of the watch, and its accuracy in predicting seizures. In reading their blog they also hope to add in more things, like helping you to know when you are too stressed and to take time to take a few breaths and calm down.

I've also been participating for a while on a study on women of childbearing age who have epilepsy. I've been registering information about birth control options we do or don't use, their 'efficiency' in preventing or helping us to get pregnant, and then while pregnant, my course of action. My neurologist also based out of The George Washington University Medical Faculty associates also studies epileptic pregnant patients. She has asked if I can be a part of her studies - and I've happily obliged.

Why do I do all this? Well, its not because of a love of getting stuck with needles... I actually hate that part. But rather because these opportunities intrigue me. I wonder what kinds of advancements are possible due to me sharing information - simple things really. I hate having epilepsy - it just is a pain in the butt. BUT(T) (haha see what I did there?) if my being a part of these studies can help others manage their conditions in the future, and could maybe even lead to a cure someday, then why wouldn't I participate?!

ps - Will post more on my experience with the Embrace watch too.

Sometimes, epilepsy just plain stinks!

This post is part of the Epilepsy Blog Relay™ which will run from March 1 through March 31. Follow along and add comments to posts that inspire you!

I leaned over my toilet, cradling it almost like I was hugging my little girl. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply - and summarily vacated my stomach of the day's food. I had the stomach flu - courtesy of my little babe who picked it up from somewhere (as an infant, who knows just where). With every heave, I silently prayed to God to let it be over, but I also had a thought that I wasn't just vacating the contents of my stomach, but also purging my body and my soul of all the negative thoughts that have plagued my mind as of late, "I can't do my job... I can't write... I can't bathe my child alone... I can't drive... I can't be a good sister... I can't be an attentive wife... I haven't seen my friends in ages... nobody understands... I'm afraid I'll have another seizure... What if I have one and I hurt my child? ... I can't leave her alone... I can't leave my husband a single parent... what the heck is going on... uggggh.... my stomach!!!"

In short, its been a long couple of months. In my last blog, written before I went back to work, I had an optimistic view of all that had happened, and all that was possible. And that is still true - I have been so blessed. My post portrayed an optimism that is encouraging, uplifting, and very much who I am, as a person. Always looking for the bright side, always taking life as one big learning experience. But I'm going to be honest for just a moment and say this: epilepsy sucks - and that is a kind way to put it. The reality of being a mom, and being a mom with epilepsy is something I don't think any parenting book, or any blog or advice column could have prepared me for.

The majority of the past year has been challenging, just as it is for any parent who works. I went back to work in August and adjusted fairly well. I had my good days, and my bad days, and was starting to finally figure out the schedule between childcare, pumping, and getting everything I needed to accomplish in one day. Then, in early December I had a breakthrough seizure. It was very unexpected  and scared the bejeezus out of me as I was holding my daughter at the time the seizure hit. Thankfully she and I were both fine - other than shaken up. But I wasn't expecting the aftermath and what would come with it.

For me, typically, the months after a seizure my brain seems to work in slow motion and incomplete thoughts and fragment. Having a child, and thus having less time to myself and less sleep has exacerbated these after effects to a degree I could not have foreseen. And this is most evident at work. Little details slip through my mind like sand through my fingers. Things and details I once noticed disappear into the ether - and I've tried every trick in the book to make them stick. Notebooks meticulously organized, planners on paper and on the computer, and my mind still betrays me. I forget conversations and meetings that I have had, and feel as though I am constantly behind as I struggle to keep up. I have great thoughts or think about items to-do, and if I don't write them down at that moment, or get distracted in any way, it feels to me like the thought never existed at all.

And struggles with work are something that any working mom can relate to - baby brain is a real thing (or so proclaims my neurologist).  I just finished reading "Maxed out: American Moms on the Brink" It was a really interesting memoir that I think any working mom, and even some working dads, could empathize with - and it brought up much of these notions about especially in America we are not a family-friendly workforce. Take the very notion of work life balance. The typical mom faces a situation where she goes to work in the morning (after 2-3 hours of getting herself and child(ren) ready for work), puts in an eight hour day, eating lunch on the go, or at her desk. She goes home and gets dinner ready, helps with the kids, puts them to bed. And then often goes online, once again, to finish out the day's business. And that is if she is lucky. Many moms and dads don't have that flexibility. They don't have the time to go to doctors appointments, or take sick leave - or even a weekend.

In short, it's hard. It's hard for any mom to fight against this incredibly strong current - and it's hard for those of us with chronic conditions whose body necessitates a schedule that is no longer the societal norm. A true 40 hour workweek. With stress as my main trigger for seizures, I need time in the evening to decompress - the busier and the more hectic the day - the longer I take to decompress. I don't check email. I don't go back online to get more work done. I won't - I need the time to let my brain rest. And I would be lying if I didn't say that I was paying a price for that small need.

So what do I do instead? Where do I find purpose? While I know this isn't for everyone, my faith is what brings me that greater sense of purpose. It has comforted me and let me know that I am ok - just as I am... epilepsy and all. That I am enough - enough for my baby, enough for my husband, and enough for me:

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. 
Plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope. 
When you call me, and come pray to me, I will listen to you.
When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart.
(Jeremiah 29)

I also heard this song at a concert last week (music is often a refuge of mine, whether I am participating in creating it, or listening to it). And this song brought me to tears. After a very trying week, and feeling exhausted, this spoke words of comfort to me. While listening I had the feeling of being held and comforted, of knowing that I am not alone in my struggles. That there are others out there who know, who understand it, who get it. And there are others whose struggles are more demanding than my own - and my heart goes out to them.

There are times, days, seasons and years when I have felt I could do anything - and some people in this relay will share in that sense of empowerment. And there are times, like now, when I must rely upon the grace of others to receive the help I need. I do not like it, but I also know that in going through it, and only by asking for the help I need will I, in turn, perhaps make life that little bit easier for ones who follow me. From relying on my husband to drive me to do errands, like grocery shop, or be home so I can give our daughter a bath, or telling my boss that I need more time to complete my work and sometimes flat out fail at my job, to begging forgiveness of friends for having to cancel plans on them, or just needing to stay in to recharge my energy - I am dependent upon the grace of others to get through the day. And by recognizing that my life is a gift and that God will use my talents in His own way, and understanding at a deep level "thy will be done..." comes a moment, a glimmer of peace, comfort and rest.

By looking at our culture of go-go-go and saying, "no, no, no... this is not the life I choose, this will not be how I measure my success," is my own way of seeking peace in a time of tumult. The culture we are in today is one of incredible independence and self-reliance and it is very scary and lonely to go against that culture. But I believe it is a fight worth having, and that we have to work against this trend. Humans are made to live in community - we are a village and we are here to help one another. It is incumbent upon us all to help one another, and recognize that we each go through times and seasons of varying levels of effort and generosity.

We are all in this beautiful world together - and we have to share in each other's burdens. Thank you for reading as I share in mine.

NEXT UP: Be sure to check out the next post tomorrow by Karen C. at http://livingwellwithepilepsy.com for more on epilepsy awareness. For the full schedule of bloggers visit livingwellwithepilepsy.com. And don’t miss your chance to connect with bloggers on the #LivingWellChat on March 31 at 7PM ET.

Not sure I can have it all... but here's to trying!

This post is part of the Epilepsy Blog Relay™ which will run from June 1 through June 30. Follow along and add comments to posts that inspire you!

One of the more well-known stigmas that surround those who have epilepsy is the idea that we cannot have children. This stigma, in particular, faces women with epilepsy who hope someday to have natural children. In fact when I was first told I had epilepsy over eight years ago I remember crying a lot. And it wasn't so much about the epilepsy as to the fact that I knew that having a family was going to be a little more complicated - if even possible. I remember thinking my  then boyfriend (now husband) was going to leave me as this question of having a child was so very unknown.

In fact, even my gynecologist at the time confirmed my fears. When he asked me what type of oral contraceptives my husband and I planned on using when we got married, and I told him none, his response was incredibly insulting.

     "What do you mean, you are thinking of having a baby? Don't you realize how dangerous that can      be, and how completely selfish it would be for you to pursue a family? Not just for yourself, but ,        you could risk the life of your child and yourself. What would your husband think if something          happened to you or your baby?"

Add to that my seizure and concussion of a year and a half ago and I thought for sure my chances of ever starting a family were shot. I knew that having seizures under control was of the utmost importance and here I had gone and had a seizure, and major brain damage. I could barely function myself - how would I ever be able to care for someone else? It was a moment when I had incredible doubts about myself - and my very identity as a woman. If I couldn't do the very thing that is so natural to a female, then what was I worth?

Now... I have a beautiful four month old daughter. What led us here? There are a number of considerations I had to manage before I thought about getting pregnant, during the pregnancy and birth, and also after the baby was born.

**Please note that the considerations below are those that I've personally experienced and are not to be used as medical advice. If you have epilepsy and are thinking of becoming, or are, pregnant, please consult with your OB-GYN and neurologist to determine a proper course of medical care.** 

Pre-natal Care: 
Ensure you have a good medical support team and plan for optimal health
Given the response from the gynecologist mentioned above, I knew I had to find a new OB-GYN, who would at least be willing to talk to me about the possibility of having a family someday. I wanted to find a neurologist also who would work with me to see whether or not having a family was really possible (and safe), and who would ensure that I was at my healthiest before I had a family. I was blessed to find the Tepeyac Family Center. They specialize in practicing the pro-life teachings of the Catholic Church, and are also trained in various methods of natural family planning. The benefit to this approach was that it helped my doctors to be able to see my cycles, and understand my reproductive health. As a result of their approach, they help a lot of women who have, like myself, various factors that could complicate a birth. They see having a baby as a natural part of life, not a condition to be managed. And all care is taken in the best view of the mother and the baby.

I was also lucky to have a neurologist at the George Washington Medical Faculty Associates who studies epileptic pregnant women. She and I agreed on a treatment plan well before I was pregnant to help me be as healthy as I could be. It involved regular check-ins with her, and constant monitoring of my medication levels.

Be on the right type and dosage of medication
As a note, it is important that if you are a woman of child-bearing years that you are on a medication that is healthy should you find yourself pregnant. There are a number of anti-seizure medications that can cause birth defects of babies in utero. There are also a number of newer medications that are seen to be more safe for women. Personally, I've been on Keppra XR for over eight years. The key with my doctor was to figure out how much I needed, while trying to be on as little as possible. As my neurologist stated, the risks to me of being off of my medication completely were greater than the risks to my baby if I were on the right amount of my medication.

Pregnancy Health

Have a treatment plan with your doctors
Once we found out I was expecting, it became very important that I stayed as healthy as possible. Both my OB-GYN and my neurologist were very frank in telling me that a seizure early on in pregnancy would very likely cause a miscarriage of my baby. Furthermore, a seizure later in life could be fatal for both me and the baby. So ... no pressure!!  Seriously...

But what my doctors did help me to do was to make sure that I was taking care of myself. My neurologist had me get my medication levels routinely checked to make sure I had a therapeutic amount of Keppra in my system, especially as I gained weight and the baby grew. I also was encouraged to get as much sleep as possible (something I support all to-be parents to do).

Find support at work
I was also very lucky to have the support of my workplace. I was given all the time I needed to see my doctors - which included also a high-risk OB-GYN and epileptologist who gave second opinions on my course of action while I was pregnant. My work was also supportive on days where I just didn't feel very well, and encouraged me to take the time I needed to make sure I was healthy.
Honestly, throughout my pregnancy I felt like a human pincushion I was getting my blood drawn so often.

For pregnant mama's: make sure you are familiar with what protections are offered to you under the ADA. Work with your workplace to see what kind of time you can get for your appointments, and also if your employer could offer any type of telework opportunities to make it easier on your body.

Labor/Delivery
Be open to the advice of your doctors in the moment
Despite my hopes to have as natural a birth as possible, my doctors advised me otherwise. When I went in for my 39 week checkup, much to our surprise my OB-GYN told us they wanted to schedule an induction. Now to be honest, my gynecologist's office is one of those places that really tries to do things as naturally as possible, so they often don't schedule inductions unless they think it is medically necessary.

Also during delivery, they wanted me to be as stress-free as possible and to my doctors pain = lots of stress. As a result they encouraged me to have an epidural, which I did. The result was a very relaxed afternoon, sitting, reading and chatting with my husband. I was nervous, of course, but otherwise I felt I was in great hands.


Postpartum
Have help when you get home
Before my baby was born, my neurologist told me that I needed to have help at home for the first six weeks. She said that I needed to get as much sleep as possible (which for new parents is quite a laughable request). So we had both grandmas come for two weeks stints. They would take turns with me and my husband getting up in the middle of the night, rocking baby to sleep. That way, I only had to be awake for the feeding portion. Although I still was up often feeding the baby, I was able to get some rest and take care of myself.

My neurologist also kept me on higher medication levels post-partum to account for my sleep deprivation and irregular schedule. Once baby started sleeping through the night, we readjusted my medication levels down.

My husband was also an amazing help and source of support for me. From listening to my fears during the pregnancy, sitting and encouraging me in labor, and getting up for midnight feedings, helping make meals and more, he was awesome. Even in the months since our baby was born he helps me to make sure I am getting enough sleep, and overall maintaining a healthy lifestyle. He also has become quite adept at changing diapers in the dark!

Maintaining a positive outlook
Now that my daughter is here by no means do my fears go away. The weeks after my baby was born were some of the most difficult times. I was so sleep deprived and so terrified that as a result, I would seize and potentially hurt my baby. I am constantly in fear that one day I may have a seizure while holding her, while driving, or caring for her and in so doing could hurt her. And while those fears are still there, now that the baby is in a routine, I am learning a new normal - knowing that the rest of life with a child will be learning a lot about how to be flexible to a changing life. Understanding that approach gives me more comfort, and a great understanding of what I need to do to be there for my family.

I want to show my daughter that despite any limitations, life is beautiful and that it is worth every moment. And proving to the world that out of much darkness and confusion comes light and life and the best adventure of all.

NEXT UP: Tomorrow is a Bonus Blog Day. Be sure to check out both posts tomorrow at fairyfaye1986.weebly.com and livingwellwithepilepsy.com for more on Epilepsy Awareness. For the full schedule of bloggers visit livingwellwithepilepsy.com. And don’t miss your chance to connect with bloggers on the #LivingWellChat on June 30 at 7PM ET.

What a difference a year can make!

This post is part of the Epilepsy Blog Relay™ which will run from November 1 through November 30. Follow along and add comments to posts that inspire you!

November 8, 2014 is a day that will be forever seared in my husbands memory, and in mine. It was a regular Saturday morning. We slept in, and I had just gotten up and was cooking breakfast. I remember turning over bacon in the pan, going through a mental list of things I had to accomplish in the day. The next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor of my kitchen, with my husband looking over me, pressing something to my head with an expression of fear and panic on his face that I'd never seen before. 

Shaken up but calm he told me I had a seizure, and I was alright, but I was bleeding from my head. He told me he had called the ambulance and they were on the way, and I just needed to be calm and hold a towel to my head. The next few hours flew by in a post-seizure induced haze... Not only had I experienced another grand mal seizure, but during the seizure I supposedly stiffened, and fell like a tree to my tile floor. I hit my head hard and was diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury, as well as a busted up shoulder. 

The few weeks after the seizure found me not being able to be alone (I was being monitored for internal bleeding). I had to take disability leave from work as I was put on a strict regiment of cognitive rest, which involved no thinking, reading, watching TV, looking at a phone or computer, or doing anything mentally strenuous. I remember crying to my husband and my parents worried that the very thing that so defined me, my intellect was slipping away. I didn't know if I would be able to return to work, continue my normal activities, or even have a family. They told me then, as did my doctor, that given the proper rest and new habits, my brain would slowly heal and I would get better ... slowly but surely...

AND THEY WERE RIGHT! 

Here I am, nearly one year later, and seizure free. It has been quite a challenging year, and I have had to realize some things about my own limits. 

1. I needed lots of help to recover. I am not one to like to ask for help... but having my seizure made me recognize that reliance on other people is not so much a sign of weakness, but a grace to help us be open to the gift of another's self giving. From the friend who brought us soup that first night, to my parents helping watch me 24/7 in the first few weeks after the seizure, to a husband who has accommodated his life to help me maintain my health... I am overwhelmed by the generosity. 

2. A great boss, and a supportive job can make or break you. One of the most fearful times in the past year was when I went back to my job as a think tank researcher in DC. I was never so afraid of failing in my job due to my cognitive limitations, nor was I so physically afraid of what would happen if I had a seizure. But my boss has been incredibly understanding, working with me to develop a plan to slowly get me back in the swing of things and encouraging me along the way as I rebuild not just my mind and my body, but also my self-confidence. 

3. Behavioral therapy is a great way to address common triggers. I also, as part of my therapy to rehabilitate my mind, was able to pursue cognitive behavioral therapy which helped me to identify physically what happens when I am faced with particular triggers. During the course of my treatment I was able to distinguish between the fear of having another seizure, and being more scared of the 'accident' that can potentially follow one. It also helped me to understand what things in life were truly necessary for me to do, and what things in life were tasks I had placed on myself that I 'ought' to do. 

4. Letting go of the life you imagined is the hardest lesson in life. Throughout this year, time and again, I have had to learn to let go of the vision of life I had for myself as a type-A person... and admittedly it has not been easy to do. I find myself in the season of performance reviews and while I have performed great at work, no performance review out there will truly recognize what I have been able to accomplish. And that burns sometimes - I mean talk about deserving a medal for merit! From not being able to think one year ago, let ago write, present or do anything necessary in my job, to standing up in front of senior White House officials and conducting high level meetings - I really didn't think it would happen in a year's time... and in recognizing that about myself I have found new found freedom. 

5. The life you did not imagine can be better than anything. This is what has most surprised me about my life this past year. While this year looks different than anything I thought, I have been blessed with graces I never imagined would be possible. I have written multiple blogs on my experience with epilepsy, and how to manage expectations in the workforce. I also have been able to cultivate a work-life balance that is truly life-giving... and more importantly I have been able to share those lessons with others! 

Because by God's grace I have come through this past year stronger, healthier and happier than I was before. I have a sense of conviction of helping others to believe in themselves, and a healthy realization that really for any of us, epileptic or not, life is completely out of our control. And I prefer to see that element of the unexpected as life's next great adventure!  


NEXT UP: Be sure to check out tomorrow's post at http://epilepsygenetics.net, courtesy of Ingo Helbig for more on Epilepsy Awareness. For the full schedule of bloggers visit livingwellwithepilepsy.com/epilepsy-blog-relay.

New blog on Disability.gov: What it's like to be invisible

Hi all! Given the great feedback I had to my last post, I was given the great opportunity to do a guest blog on Disability.gov's Blog. I wanted it to be more of a guide for those who also have invisible disabilities to be able to have the courage to find the help and support they need to manage their lives, jobs and education in a way that helps them to be successful.

In the meantime I do hope you all take a look at some of the other blog posts, and the great resources available on Disability.gov. There are things there for those who have disabilities, employers, teachers, etc. It is truly an invaluable resource.

Enjoy! "What it's like to be invisible"

Epilepsy Stigma Blog Relay: When Work/Life Balance isn't a balance - it is a necessity

This post is part of the Epilepsy Stigma Blog Relay which will run from June 1 through June 30. Follow along and add comments to posts that inspire you!

Last summer the internet was a buzz with Anne-Marie Slaughter's article "Why Women Still Can't Have it All." In her piece, she talked about the role of women in society and how it is really impossible, without a lot of help to be that super woman. The backlash, the social media stories, the tweets, and everything that has come out since has fallen on both sides of the argument. But what gets me is still this pervasive thought that when you want something bad enough, you can do it all... but in my case that hasn't always been true. 

I say add on a case of epilepsy and it is very difficult to be a super woman. I have had epilepsy since I was a junior in high school when I had a grand mal seizure before class one day. And while I've only had three seizures in my life, each one has forced me to come face to face with my very real, and sometimes incredibly frustrating limitations. 

Living on the edge... well within reason of course!

The common thread that ties all my seizures together are periods of extended stress... the first in high school, the second early in my career as a consultant, and the third just seven months ago following an incredibly stressful period of time at work...

Just before my second seizure, I was up for promotion at a major consulting firm. I was working long hours, traveling, and loving my job. I was active in groups in Washington, D.C., taking on leadership positions, and doing all the things that a young twenty something, single woman is supposed to do. The seizure up-ended my world. My neurologist told me in no uncertain terms that I could not work the hours I had been keeping and still stay healthy. what was something that was a background in my life, all of a sudden became a defining point in my career. 

I immediately set about to the Herculean task of trying to change the culture of my company to be more aware of, and responsive to the needs of individuals with invisible disabilities. While I couldn't work 60 or 70 hours a week, I made bargains with my bosses that "I can do in 40 hours what others can do in 50." And for a few years it worked. It worked so well that I was even invited to a highly selective Leadership Development program where I was able to research the latest trends in cognitive technologies in team and organization management. But as I climbed the corporate ladder, slowly I saw my days becoming longer, my stress levels rising, and my exhaustion becoming more prevalent. At the conclusion of my fellowship I made the agonizing decision to leave my job... a job I was successful at, a job in which I had a future, a great paycheck, and opportunities opening before my eyes. My friends and colleagues thought I was crazy, passing up on such an opportunity. So why did I do it? 

Because I knew I couldn't cut it.  I knew enough about my body to know when I was starting to push it too much. Because my epilepsy wasn't visible, the firm seemed to be growing tired of my so-called "excuses" for working less hours. They kept on wondering when I would be able to work "normal" hours; when I could take on more responsibilities; and how much I would be willing to do for the good of the firm.  I knew that I would soon be expected to maintain higher hours, even more responsibility, and I knew that my body would not keep up the pace. And so I took another job.

Fast forward another two years, and to my newest employer ...  Really one of the few places that puts their money where their mouth is when it comes to the health of their workforce (seriously senior staffers will question why you are at the office after 6pm). And still my epilepsy caught up with me. After a period of long days and weekends writing a paper (a culmination of a year's worth of work), I had my third grand mal seizure, during which I suffered a horrible concussion. I was on cognitive rest for a few months, was not able to work, and at the very early onset was told not to think. For a research analyst at a think tank being told not to think - this caused a huge crisis of identity. Who was I without my brains and my intellect? Who was I, if my increased dosage of my medications made me slow and sluggish... What would happen if the side effects never went away? My bosses already saw my  lack of concentration as laziness, or a lack of interest in my work. My vocabulary blanks were associated with me not being able to "think through situations" as opposed to my nerves misfiring... my very performance at my job was totally out of my control. 

Punting at my Alma Mater

So what have I done? I have had to learn the lesson that work-life balance for me isn't a choice, but a necessity. And that at one time, what work life balance meant (i.e .going from 60 to 40 hours a week), now means something different (working at most 40 hours a week, taking multiple brain breaks throughout the day, doing no communication after hours, etc.). And it is difficult. I have to be patient with myself. In a high powered city like DC where everyone is connected, and everyone is on the up and up, I feel like I am on the bleachers watching a game that once I could play, but can no longer. 

And though it sounds as though I regret it, I too have come to know my strengths. In a world that is always 'on' and always plugged in to some type of device, I have learned how to savor the slow moments. How to make time for meditation and prayer every day, how to be kind to my body through good exercise without going overboard, and ultimately how to be proud of myself for who I am even with these struggles. And quite honestly, to recognize all that I have been able to accomplish, and the great blessing that has been my life. During my time with epilepsy I was accepted into some of the world's top universities for my undergraduate and graduate degrees, and graduated with honors. I've traveled to Tibet, China, Lithuania, France, and Norway; camped out overnight with over 2 million people in crowded fields in Rome and Madrid, backpacked across northern Spain on the Camino de Santiago, done study abroad programs in Japan, and learned a few languages along the way. I moved to (and survived in) a foreign country and then a large city on my own, navigated the world of corporate consulting, met my husband, and finally realized before many of my peers when it was time to stop the rat race. And all this before I was 35!

Post Marathon Finish!

While I am still frustrated with my latest go-round after my last seizure and injury, I too know that this is temporary, and that many of the habits (good sleep, low alcohol consumption, stable diet, and routine) are ones that will serve me later on in life. 

And I realized I am not alone. This past fall, I was honored to Run the Marine Corps Marathon, raising over $1,600 in the National Epilepsy Foundation's Athletes vs. Epilepsy Campaign. With every step I took, I heard the clanging of my medical ID necklace - constant reminder of my limitations... but with every step I took, I also grew stronger and more determined to cross that finish line. And was surrounded by others, just like me, who were taking it one step at a time, one day at a time. And that determination, really, has been what has gotten me through. 

 

Looking out at all the possibilities life has to offer

So maybe my goal of a PhD may take a little longer; maybe being an adviser to the President, or an Ambassador to the UN won't happen by the time I am 40...or 50... or even 60... maybe being a good wife, friend and (God-willing) a mother will take all the energy I have. Because I know my dreams will happen, and in ways I cannot even imagine... I just have to be patient with myself and know that I am exactly where I am meant to be. And that means proud of all of who I am, all that I have accomplished, and living well with epilepsy. 

NEXT UP: Be sure to check out Amanda Filippone's post on Epilepsy Stigma.