Brexit is like my epilepsy: pretending everything's alright is too risky

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Brexit is like my epilepsy: pretending everything's alright is too risky

I’ve tried to avoid speaking about my epilepsy. When I did, I found myself being swallowed by the rawness of it. But now I must try to face it head on. Why? Because, the parallels between Brexit and my experience of this neurological disorder are uncanny. The uncertainty; the pain; the hopelessness. If we take away the crippling seizures for a moment, these two unlikely bedfellows are almost a mirror image, fused by the mindless misery they inflict. But with less than three weeks until the UK leaves the European Union, the bond between them has become even stronger.

I was diagnosed with epilepsy at a time of immense upheaval in British politics. My first seizure occurred on the same day as arch-Brexiteer John Redwood flippantly tweeted: “the issue of Brexit was settled almost two years ago by the people and their vote”, which really means “we won it, get over it”.

The erosion of my life was taking place contemporaneously to the breakdown of modern politics as we know it; as my seizures turned into what seemed like an endless cycle of doom, so too did the protracted Brexit negotiations. At one stage, the condition became so intolerable that the long, dreary corridor of my local A&E Department became something of a de facto second home, rather like Chequers did for Theresa May. Both of us were trying to escape the woes of our own deadlock.

Like everyone else, I have many questions about Brexit, starting with “why” and “what’s the point of it all?” Like coming to terms with a diagnosis of epilepsy, you wonder how something so horrid, so insidious could even manifest itself. Of course, to question the existence of Brexit today, one risks being labelled an “enemy of the people”, a traitor, or part of the self-seeking liberal elite.

But is it really that treacherous to question the danger of supporting a cause which will make it harder for people to get necessary medication? Of course not. But is it really acceptable for those responsible for delivering Brexit to sideline those who have been dependent on life-saving drugs, just so they can pursue their own myopic fantasy of Britannia again ruling the waves?

In 2019, the UK saw a whole host of epilepsy experts warn of the potentially fatal risk that Brexit poses to those with epilepsy. Senior leaders concerned with safeguarding patients said they “do not have confidence in the current arrangements to ensure the continuity of life-saving medications for people with epilepsy.”

They added: “We are concerned that these government plans could increase the risk of avoidable deaths of people with epilepsy. We urgently call on the government to intervene to stop any risk to patients’ health and to make explicit safeguards for the continuing supply of medications for people with epilepsy.”

For a long time, I dealt with the condition by ignoring the uncomfortable truth of its existence; staying up late and then wondering why I was being transported back to hospital to start the challenge of staying seizure-free for another year. I have, after nearly two years found the right medication and it has made my life just about liveable.

But I’ve found you never live life without first looking over that proverbial shoulder. Many, however, are not this lucky. While 600,000 people in the UK are affected by epilepsy, there are 21 epilepsy-related deaths each week. This is the reality. I never have a bath if I am on my own at home, I wear an epilepsy bracelet and don’t drink. These are not the greatest of sacrifices, but they are the kind of things I must think about.

When I say Brexit is like my epilepsy, I am not being flippant, nor am I trivialising what is for many a debilitating condition. But the two are linked — for me anyway. Whenever I hear the Brexiters’ mantra of “We’ve got this” “we can do it”, I’m taken back to my naive former-self who thought that because he “could do it”, he could do the things guaranteed to make him ill.

Looking back, I’ve learned that to live on the fringes of reality and to adopt an attitude clouded by blind faith and vague optimism is very dangerous indeed. If only those who advocate Brexit could recognise this too.

Member ratings
  • Well argued: 54%
  • Interesting points: 67%
  • Agree with arguments: 44%
17 ratings - view all

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