I was at a gala hosted by my local library about two weeks ago. It was a posh affair, as library galas go, and everyone was all dressed up. The local authors were huddled in one corner talking about the tricks of the trade, the college students were in another corner. I don’t know for sure, but since it’s been a few years since I’ve been a college student, I can only assume they were discussing philosophy.
Another corner of the room attracted the milling wine-glass holders, no doubt discussing property taxes, and then finally, in the fourth corner, there was a group of comfy chairs, a coffee table, and the type of sofa that you sink so far down into that it requires two burly men to strong-arm one writer (me) to her feet. The guest speaker, who had just wrapped up, saw me sitting by myself and planted himself in one of the comfy chairs, and introduced himself. We were having a perfectly lovely conversation, and I was answering a question he’d posed when I noticed he appeared to be asleep. I paused. He was definitely asleep. His posture hadn’t altered, but his eyes were closed, and he was snoring softly. About two minutes later, he opened his eyes, cleared his throat, and seemed a bit lost.
I reached over and touched his arm. “Can I ask you a personal question?” And, before he could answer, I ploughed right in. “Do you have narcolepsy?” A smile crept over his face and he said, “Yes, and thank you for being so aware. I usually feel awful when I fall asleep while I’m talking to someone I’ve just met.” We continued our conversation, and the rest of the evening was a lot of fun. Kudos to the library gala planners.
I’m writing about this because most people have no idea what narcolepsy is, or how it affects the people who live with it. I’d like to change that. For more information, visit the Narcolepsy Network online. They have a ton of information and resources.
