When a Seizure Feels Like a Stroke, and the Moment I Finally Got Answers
- Apr 19
- 3 min read
Written by Joseannie Martinez Author and Advocate
Joseannie Martinez is an Afro-Dominican and self-publishing author from Paterson, New Jersey. In 2020, she launched her Instagram account @lightlyepilepsy to shift the narrative, destigmatize epilepsy, and provoke conversations.
In the morning, I woke up in the hospital, convinced I had just survived a stroke. The left side of my body felt weak, my face was numb, and nothing made sense. I kept trying to piece together what had happened, but my body felt unfamiliar, like it no longer belonged to me.

What I didn’t know yet was that I had experienced one of the most severe seizures of my life, one that would finally give me answers after fifteen years of living with epilepsy.
The episode landed me in the hospital for two days. Because of the weakness on the left side of my body, I was labeled a fall risk and given a yellow wristband that read "FALL RISK." It was a small detail, but it made everything feel more serious, more real.
Throughout my stay, nurses performed a series of neurological tests, asking me to push my feet against their hands and squeeze their fingers to measure my strength. I also underwent an EEG and an MRI, hoping for some clarity.
For years, I had lived with unanswered questions. This time, I finally got one. I was diagnosed with right mesial temporal sclerosis, a condition that causes scarring in the deep part of the right temporal lobe of the brain. That scarring turned out to be the source of my seizures.
The answer I had been searching for came during one of the most overwhelming seasons of my life. I had just started a new job as a dental assistant while also adjusting to life with a new puppy. As much as I loved my puppy, it kept me up most nights. What I didn’t realize at the time was how deeply that lack of sleep, and the stress that came with it, was affecting my body.
Eventually, it caught up to me. I had a seizure at work, and that moment led me to the hospital, and finally, to a diagnosis.
As I began to recover, the weakness in my body slowly improved. But one symptom refused to go away: numbness in my face. Even my neurologist was puzzled. My MRI results appeared normal, and the symptoms didn’t fully align with what he typically saw in epilepsy patients. I was referred to another specialist, who tested the sensation in my limbs. Everything checked out. Still, something didn’t feel right.
Over time, I started noticing patterns in my own behavior. I had developed a habit of clenching my jaw, often without realizing it, especially when I was stressed or overthinking. I was also grinding my teeth in my sleep, a condition known as bruxism.
With over a decade of experience as a dental assistant, I recognized the signs. Chronic stress and sleep deprivation had taken a physical toll. The constant clenching was putting pressure on my temporomandibular joint (TMJ) and irritating the trigeminal nerve, the largest nerve in the face, causing the numbness that had frightened me so much.
It was a powerful reminder that not every symptom has a single cause. Sometimes, the body carries stress in ways we don’t immediately recognize.
Living with epilepsy already comes with uncertainty. Add in symptoms like facial numbness, and it’s easy for your mind to jump to worst-case scenarios. But this experience changed the way I listen to my body.
I’ve learned to slow down, to notice the tension before it builds, and to take care of my mental and physical health in ways I once overlooked. Listening to music, journaling, meditation, reading, and prayer have all become part of managing my stress.
Most importantly, I’ve learned that sleep isn’t optional, it’s essential. Interrupted sleep can be just as harmful as not sleeping at all. For those of us living with epilepsy, consistent rest isn’t just helpful, it’s necessary.
Today, I’m sleeping better, managing stress more intentionally, and, as a result, the numbness in my face has improved.
Sometimes, the answers we’re searching for don’t just come from tests or diagnoses. Sometimes, they come from learning to pause, to listen, and to care for ourselves in ways we didn’t realize we needed.
Read more from Joseannie Martinez
Joseannie Martinez, Advocate and Author
After being diagnosed with epilepsy at 16, she dreamed of writing children’s books inspired by her own experiences to help others. In 2022, Martinez published her first book, 'Lucky Feels Fuzzy'. The story features a character with epilepsy and serves as a self-help resource for young readers, teaching them how to express their symptoms and advocate for themselves. By including cats of various colors, she also promotes inclusivity and highlights that epilepsy can affect both humans and animals.










