My friend Kyle contacted me a few months ago, asking me if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee. Being a full on 'Joe addict', I naturally took him up on it. That's when he threw out his situation (you all know the story). Knowing Kyle and his 'get at it' dogma, he wasn't gonna let this neuro diagnosis sway his spirit. After an in depth conversation, with ideas flowing, the seeds of Outdoor Mindset were planted.
Kyle thought I might be interested since I was in the non-profit management world in my previous life. He also knew I had uncontrolled epilepsy.
Long story short (bear with me), when I was twelve, I dropped in front of my friend while on summer vacation, and freaked him out pretty good. Turns out it was a grand mal seizure. Lots of tests, and visits with a bald neuro doc later, I was tagged epileptic. Hmm, epilepsy. That's interesting, I thought. So, I got put on some meds and life went on as normal. I eventually grew out of the spastic grand mals, and have had partial complex seizures ever since. I'm now 38.
Thankfully, 95% of my stuff goes on in my sleep. The other 5% have occurred anywhere. On the ice during hockey games, on a glacier in Alaska, or watching TV with friends. They have occurred pretty regularly for the past 26 years. My stance on my diagnosis has always been 'I have epilepsy, no big deal'. Over the years, docs have tried several meds to control my seizures, but they're persistent little buggers. I've failed three meds, and am now on a high dose 'cocktail' of two newer meds- still having weekly seizures. None the less, I've been an avid athlete all my life, and have been adventuring in the mountains on all sorts of toys since 1996.
This status quo changed a bit this past fall when my doc leveled with me. For the first time, the word 'brain surgery' reared its ugly head!