Dancing with the Monster, Epilepsy!

By H. Mikel Feilen

I have had epilepsy longer than I have been a dancer. I was diagnosed with it back in 1970 when I was 15. My young life was transferred instantly into a world of horror; never knowing when the monster was going to make an appearance.

I will never grow out of having epilepsy; however, the events have lessened over the years. When I was first battling the beast within, seizures were more frequent while doctors experimented trying to find the right anti-seizure cocktail for my type of epilepsy.

It took years of trial and error to get something that worked most of the time. Nothing is full proof but close with epilepsy is pretty darn good.

I have lost many jobs due to seizures. However, when I entered the ballroom dance industry my search was over for acceptance. I still had seizures but no one; owners, managers or other instructors, ever treated me different or judged me because of my disease.

I have worked many kinds of jobs; I was a news producer until a seizure ended my employment, after working on cruise ships for two years an unexpected seizure at the midnight buffet put a nail in my contract, and the list goes on.

Rick Post, without him I would have probably quit ballroom dancing too.

Shortly after I started working for the Fred Astaire Dance Studio in Denver, Colorado, I had my first seizure while teaching a lesson. I thought my ballroom career was over. Instead, the owner of the studio, Rick Post, instructed our receptionist, Terry Crotti, to take me home.

I was informed by Terry, that Mr. Post wanted to talk to me when I come back next week. Barely awake, foggy, and sore I nodded my head and went off to sleep for about three days straight.

It takes a long time to recover after grand mal seizure.

When I returned to the school, I was expecting to get my walking papers. Therefore, as I entered Mr. Post’s office, I was prepared and expected the worst.

With a smile and with sincere concern in his eyes, he reached out to shake my hand. Somewhat dismayed, I reached out my hand. Then he pulled me in close to him and said, “Boy, do you know how to wake things up around here.”

I smiled yet, remained silent. Mr. Post then asked if I had epilepsy and I nodded my head. He continued to mention that I should have told him about the disorder.

Then I finally had the courage to speak, and I said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t hire me if you knew I had epilepsy.”

Nodding his head up and down he said that he understood. Concerned, he asked how I was feeling, and I assured him I was ready to start teaching again. He told me about the lady I was teaching when I had my seizure; I became quiet again.

He said I scared her pretty bad. I felt awful! Then when she calmed down, knowing I would be alright, she told Mr. post as soon as I felt better to give her a call to reschedule another lesson.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I hung my head down. Rick Post lifted my chin up and with his sell-me-more-lessons grin, said never be ashamed because you have epilepsy.

He told me to tell people what I had. Tell them what they can do if they are with me, when I have a seizure. It was he who pointed me in the direction to begin a battle I could win.

Because up till then, after every seizure, there was a weird sense of shame. It was as if I was less of a human being because of my brain disorder. Today, I understand that I am not less than anyone or greater than anyone else, just different.

I have been teaching ballroom for more than 40 years and dancing with the monster now and then still happens, but my students all know about my epilepsy and what to do if the monster shows up. Also, all new students get the epilepsy speech before having a lesson with me, therefore no one is unaware.

The beauty is that I have worked in several studios throughout the years for different owners, thousands of students, and hundreds of instructors, and none have ever judged me. Ballroom dancing allowed me to become a strong and confident person, proud to be who I am and to be extremely proud of what I have accomplished.

Ballroom dance instructors, managers, and owners are in an amazing business. We are able to transform the lives of people in way unlike any others.

The people involved all seem to be exceptionally generous, empathetic, and kind. I believe the ballroom dancing attracts the kindest of hearts and the warmest of people.

I feel blessed that I was able to find this wonderful vocation at such a young age and how it has lasted for so long regardless of having seizures.

Epilepsy is a tough disease when looking for the right job to go with it. I was a dance major in college, but I did not know the ballroom industry would be the discipline of dance I would choose. How lucky was I to find the perfect business for my whacky brain disorder.

Peace, Love, and Unconditional Happiness!