The Tales of Target: Episode 8
Dearest reader, I apologize for the change of pace in this week’s blog. We are straying (temporarily) from the usual funny, lighthearted Target Tales to a story that changed my life. Episode 8 is the story of my first grand mal seizure. Being that it took place at Target, I am allowing it to be a part of the series.
I wasn’t working my typical shift on this particular night, I was set to get off before close which rarely happens. I was supposed to get off at 8 P.M., but my boss asked me to stay an extra hour or so to help with our short staffing. My memory goes as far as pushing stock onto the floor to assist the general merchandise team members. My next memory I was in a cold, fluorescently lit ambulance scared and confused.
I blinked quickly, dazed and with an aching headache. I reached for my head and quickly discovered an IV in my arm that stopped me from consoling my pounding brain. I suddenly became aware of the oxygen mask over my nose and mouth that a strange man I’d never seen before pulled down saying “There she is, welcome back.” To his comic relief my first words I muttered through my haze were “This isn’t Target.”
Dave was his name. He explained to me that I had had a seizure and they were transporting me to the hospital. My head was fuzzy and I couldn’t speak much, a change of pace from my usual chatty nature. Dave stayed with me past his job’s requirements, waiting for an hour in the hospital room with me until my parents finally arrived.
How do you cope with all of this?
From happy, healthy athlete to hospitals, medications, and uncertainty. I had to quit the job I loved so much because the DMV took my license. People don’t take well to epileptics driving cars, evidently. Leaving my Target friends was hard enough, topped with missing weeks of classes, trying not to fail out of my first year of college. I couldn’t play soccer, even when I wasn’t in the hospital or knocked out from some new medication.
While it seemed like life would never be normal again, life trekked on. Months later we found a medication that worked! My seizures stopped, they were finally controlled after three grand mal seizures setting back all progress we had made in the weeks between the episodes. Six months passed from my last seizure and I could drive again. Target gladly accepted my back.
Being that this is The Tales of Target I will skip over months of life with epilepsy to my first shift back. My Target family had sent countless bouquets of flowers and cards signed by almost every coworker. They never stopped caring, but even still walking back through those doors to the Red Temple brought out so many emotions. Fear, sadness, triumph. I cried. A lot. I did not return to the site of my seizure all night. Although I couldn’t remember it, I couldn’t face that life changing spot on the hard floor. Even through all of this, I was back. Back in my red t-shirt. Back under the white lights. Back listening to kids scream and guests argue with my employees.
