Whenever I walk by my uncle's picture in the dining room I feel a tinge of sadness. I could be setting the table, putting something away, and I will look up and see him I think of all he went through, and how hard he fought to be well.
My grandparents lived in Durham North Carolina and were both doctors. There son, Stephen was diagnosed with epilepsy in the 1930's. They thought he would grow out of it in adolescence and for a time they thought he had. During this time, the medical world knew very little about epilepsy and they over medicated. My uncle was on several heavy duty meds before they settle on Thorazine. Thorazine stopped his seizures and everything else apparently. My father always said he could tell when my uncle was on his meds as it was like his brother was in a trance.
Of course, my father wasn't quite so eloquent. He actually said my Uncle Stephen was like a zombie.
Initially, he managed to pursue quite an education. He went to Duke and got his Bachelors degree, and then his Masters, and he headed off to get his doctorate at Stanford University before suffering from a mental breakdown. He refused to take his meds because he couldn't focus on his studies.
He tried to hurt himself.
His parents came out on a train to collect him.
He spent the rest of his life with his parents working odd jobs at Goodwill. Sometimes, institutionalized for psychotic episodes and once for being violent with my grandfather.
My siblings and I were scared of him when we did see him. We saw him maybe a handful of times. He was always overly medicated, his hands shook from Thorazine, and it seemed like his fingers were dipped in yellow. ( This was from the nicotine as he chain smoked.) We were scared of him as kids as we knew something wasn't quite right.
When I was a kid, and later an adult, I sort of thought our Uncle Stephen was our very own Boo Radley.
I think of him today and how far modern medicine has come in terms of effectively treating epilepsy. I think of how epilepsy it is no longer a life sentence and that many who suffer from epilepsy can lead pretty normal functioning lives.
But most of all, I just think of him.
Morna - this such a poignant and sad story. I can relate because I had an uncle who had hemophelia and became addicted to morphine. I also was terrified of him. However, he finally overcame his addiction and at my sister's wedding, he came over to me and said he was sorry that I was scared of him. i didn't know he knew - but he did. I'm glad that medicine has come a long way and what happened to your uncle can be remedied. I know there is still a long way to go.
ReplyDeleteJoanne thank u for ur thoughts, weighing in here, as well as sharing ur own childhood memories. When we are kids (and all kids, right?) we are unfiltered and pure.
DeleteMorna, first of all I would like to thank you for stopping by my blog and leaving me a comment. I was touched by your thoughts. Being disabled is still difficult. My son was born with cerebral palsy in 1980. Unfortunately, he was the only one in the neighborhood with a disability. It was mild but there were many children and adults who did not understand. You opened your heart to explain the seriousness of your uncle's medical issues. It must be have been difficult for your family. I am also very happy that medicine ha come a long way.
ReplyDeleteThank-you Carol for sharing your own connection. It is SO hard to be different. I hope your son is doing well and is successfully negotiating his challenges.
Deleteoops (thats me)
DeleteIt is tempting to tell my own family story, as my grandmother developed epilepsy as an adult from a brain injury. She was also over medicated, and it certainly affected the raising of her two children. Now I am wondering how many of us have a story in our family like yours. The comparison to Boo Radley I think is apt. Thank you for sharing, and for the compassionate view you took even as a young person.
ReplyDeleteOh, Fran. I wasn't compassionate as a child. Just scared out my wits. . .my siblings used him like the threat of a 'bogeyman." You give me too much credit. As an adult, as a parent my heart really looks on this differently. Thank-you for sharing your experience and connection.
DeleteThank you for you raw and sad reminder of how epilepsy was treated not that long ago. Even today, many individuals are overmedicated and often this illness determines the course of their lives. How sad.
ReplyDeleteMy youngest son (in his mid-late 20s) was diagnosed with epilepsy last year. Reading about your uncle, I am so thankful that treatment has come such a long way. I'm also heartbroken for your uncle and your family. To have struggled so much because the resources weren't there yet just feels so wrong. Thank you for sharing.
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