a swimming pool?
Throw in the laundry.
What’s blue and doesn’t fit. A dead epileptic.
There are some that are even worse, but I’m not going to include them here because I’m nice like that. So, you’re probably wondering why I’m even telling you seizure jokes.
Well, in about a month, a boy is going to do something horrible to you. The incident and its aftermath will haunt you for a really long time, and it will affectyour life in ways that you’ll never expect. One of those unfortunate, life-changing consequences includes a case of mono—but, worse still, the virus that causes mono is going to act a little funny in your case. It’s going to attack your brain. And it’s going to give you seizures.
DO NOT FREAK OUT!!! Things I know:
You’re about to go to college.
You don’t have time for this.
You don’t even like to talk about being sick—because being sick is boring.
And I’d like to be able to tell you that it’s going to be okay. I wish that this letter could actually somehow reach back in time and grab hold of you there—so that you could avoid that party, so that you could escape being hurt by that boy, and so that you wouldn’t have to suffer through seizures every day of your freshman year. But I can’t tell you that. Things don’t work that way.
Other things that are unpredictable:
Boys at parties.
Your friends at parties when your friends are wasted.
Seizures.
So, um, the points here are:
You’re about to experience something truly awful. Even though you don’t drink, a certain very cruel, very callous guy is drinking—and there’s nothing I can do now to stop that thing from happening.
One of the lasting effects of this horrible experience is a virus that winds up giving you seizures.
Do not give up.
Seriously. That’s the point. DO NOT GIVE UP. You’re going to have seizures. You are actually going to develop a rash as a result of those seizures. The rash is pretty gross. Pack a lot of tights and pants to hide it. The seizures will start with your hand jerking. Then you’ll pass out.
At one point you’ll pass out when you’re near a cute boy in your philosophy class. He’ll try not to panic, but he’ll also kind of fail. At another point you’ll pass out in your dorm room. And once, you even wind up falling off a ladder at your Othello rehearsal. Sometimes you’ll hit your head. Sometimes you’ll wind up with so many bruises that people will think you’re being abused.
Sometimes people will say, “Hey, aren’t you the girl who has…”
They’ll search for an inoffensive word. They’ll usually find it. And you, for your part, will usually just be honest and answer yes. And a lot of those awesome people at Bates College won’t care at all. They’ll still love you despite the fact that you’ve lost IQ points from all the seizures.
Yes, Carrie, there will be cognitive degeneration. Yes, Carrie, that means you won’t be able to recall recent conversations that well anymore, or class lectures, and you’ll actually have to study.
Here’s the thing: Your sickness isn’t important. It’s not going to define who you are. You have to be the one to do that.
Your first seizure will happen at home. You and Joe are hanging on the floor, watching Amazon Women on the Moon —this spoof movie that makes fun of other movies and shows. It’s sort of a bunch of weird skits that feature things like a hero guy fighting against giant spiders, and a first lady who used to be a hooker. Stuff like that.
You aren’t feeling great. You think it’s the stress. A half-eaten tray of nachos rests on the heavy wooden coffee table in front of you. About four cans of Pepsi linger around the nachos, flip tops open, and almost drained.
“I’m going to miss you when you go,” Joe says, in between bursts of laughter. He loves the scene where a bunch of naked women walk around doing completely normal things. It’s his favorite scene in the movie.
“Yeah. Me too.” You stop and
Throw in the laundry.
What’s blue and doesn’t fit. A dead epileptic.
There are some that are even worse, but I’m not going to include them here because I’m nice like that. So, you’re probably wondering why I’m even telling you seizure jokes.
Well, in about a month, a boy is going to do something horrible to you. The incident and its aftermath will haunt you for a really long time, and it will affectyour life in ways that you’ll never expect. One of those unfortunate, life-changing consequences includes a case of mono—but, worse still, the virus that causes mono is going to act a little funny in your case. It’s going to attack your brain. And it’s going to give you seizures.
DO NOT FREAK OUT!!! Things I know:
You’re about to go to college.
You don’t have time for this.
You don’t even like to talk about being sick—because being sick is boring.
And I’d like to be able to tell you that it’s going to be okay. I wish that this letter could actually somehow reach back in time and grab hold of you there—so that you could avoid that party, so that you could escape being hurt by that boy, and so that you wouldn’t have to suffer through seizures every day of your freshman year. But I can’t tell you that. Things don’t work that way.
Other things that are unpredictable:
Boys at parties.
Your friends at parties when your friends are wasted.
Seizures.
So, um, the points here are:
You’re about to experience something truly awful. Even though you don’t drink, a certain very cruel, very callous guy is drinking—and there’s nothing I can do now to stop that thing from happening.
One of the lasting effects of this horrible experience is a virus that winds up giving you seizures.
Do not give up.
Seriously. That’s the point. DO NOT GIVE UP. You’re going to have seizures. You are actually going to develop a rash as a result of those seizures. The rash is pretty gross. Pack a lot of tights and pants to hide it. The seizures will start with your hand jerking. Then you’ll pass out.
At one point you’ll pass out when you’re near a cute boy in your philosophy class. He’ll try not to panic, but he’ll also kind of fail. At another point you’ll pass out in your dorm room. And once, you even wind up falling off a ladder at your Othello rehearsal. Sometimes you’ll hit your head. Sometimes you’ll wind up with so many bruises that people will think you’re being abused.
Sometimes people will say, “Hey, aren’t you the girl who has…”
They’ll search for an inoffensive word. They’ll usually find it. And you, for your part, will usually just be honest and answer yes. And a lot of those awesome people at Bates College won’t care at all. They’ll still love you despite the fact that you’ve lost IQ points from all the seizures.
Yes, Carrie, there will be cognitive degeneration. Yes, Carrie, that means you won’t be able to recall recent conversations that well anymore, or class lectures, and you’ll actually have to study.
Here’s the thing: Your sickness isn’t important. It’s not going to define who you are. You have to be the one to do that.
Your first seizure will happen at home. You and Joe are hanging on the floor, watching Amazon Women on the Moon —this spoof movie that makes fun of other movies and shows. It’s sort of a bunch of weird skits that feature things like a hero guy fighting against giant spiders, and a first lady who used to be a hooker. Stuff like that.
You aren’t feeling great. You think it’s the stress. A half-eaten tray of nachos rests on the heavy wooden coffee table in front of you. About four cans of Pepsi linger around the nachos, flip tops open, and almost drained.
“I’m going to miss you when you go,” Joe says, in between bursts of laughter. He loves the scene where a bunch of naked women walk around doing completely normal things. It’s his favorite scene in the movie.
“Yeah. Me too.” You stop and
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