Are we going to your place? No, it wasn't a proposition!

It sounded like a proposition, I grant you, although it definitely wasn't and the man who thought he was being propositioned reacted loudly - and dramatically - to assure everyone else (who might have overheard) he was having nothing to do with it.

Let me explain. I'd travelled over from Windsor to Twickenham to see a copywriting client and so was dressed for a business meeting (decent dress, good jacket - that's significant.) Had popped in to see a friend and during our chat had noticed a few 'whizzies' flying around my head but hadn't mentioned it to her and she hadn't noticed anything different in my demeanour.

I arrived back at Twickenham railway station to catch the 16.22 to Windsor & Eton Riverside but as the train pulled in, the seizure - that I now realise I'd been warned about as I was talking to Marilyn - finally happened: but not as most people know it!

I was sitting down and turned to the man next to me, who I suddenly thought was my other half and asked if we were getting the train to Windsor. He said he wasn't getting that train because he was going to ********* (I don't remember the name of the place) and I asked if I should go with him.

He shouted that he'd never seen me before in my life and jumped up as if to move away from someone who seemed seriously diseased. The shock somehow brought me out of my daze and I managed to tell him I'd had an epileptic seizure. To be fair to him, I remember him asking if I needed medical help and I said I didn't.

He scarpered, the train pulled out and I was left sitting on the platform bench for 30 minutes in total silence. Nobody who witnessed the event asked if I needed anything - even if it was just to make sure I knew the time of the next train since confusion was my only 'crime'. I looked a well-dressed businesswoman, not a hooker and there wasn't the slightest smell of alcohol on my breath. Nobody had any excuse for not trying to help but people aren't good with 'odd' and matters of the mind.

The reality is, if I'd tripped and made a mess of my leg I would have been inundated with offers of help. People are good with plasters!

You're never too young to talk about it

Someone once told me he dreaded the thought of his young nieces seeing him having a seizure because he felt they were too young to handle it. I could understand his worry. He was a single man, no children.
I, on the other hand, am a mother of two and Remi and Lily have grown up with epilepsy in their lives. They've seen me have seizures, helped me through them and are more relaxed talking about epilepsy than anyone else I know. When I say epilepsy's been part of their lives, Remi, the eldest, was only six weeks old when I dropped him during a seizure. That unhappy incident was the result of a naive mother who panicked during an aura, tried to put him back in the crib but never made it. He's going to be 22 this year, very healthy, thankfully no harm was done. When Lily came along I was better at the mother thing. (She seems to have a gift - seizure prevention talk - but I'll tell you about that another time.)
When they were very little,  my ex-husband explained what was happening when I had a seizure and very easily settled their minds on the matter. Children are so accepting of situations that if he'd said "Mummy turns into a super-hero every now and then" they probably would have accepted that too.
As it was, the explanation wasn't that interesting to them at the time so they didn't take much notice for a while. But they always cared - and cuddled. As they grew older they became more and more concerned, in an academic way, if you like, but stayed very calm and comfortable - as they still are.
Because they are so relaxed with the subject, so are their friends. There is something in the "if it's ok with them, it's got to be ok with us" affect. It's always been the case that if an episode has happened they've handled it with no drama, no fuss and life has carried on as normal. I just get the glass of water I need. Their friends have seen that - and I think that's excellent.
And then there are my friends' kids who have been really great. There was a funny moment when Linda's middle one was telling their new neighbour, in very matter-of-fact style, that I always say 'No' before I have a seizure. Seconds later I was offered something and as soon as I said 'No' the neighbour looked terrified! Little Saul couldn't understand the reaction.
Remi and Lily and their friends have no problem talking about epilepsy. I'm proud of them for many reasons and I'm certainly proud of them for that. And I thank them (and their friends) for helping to make me feel so supported in a society which really doesn't want to talk about epilepsy. I believe that educating young people - the earlier, the better - and finally starting some conversation is the way to go.