Irene meanwhile had rang Boston and told them that I had been acting strangely. My secretary in Boston told her, "Oh, Jesus: she's probably having a seizure...she's epileptic. Go in there and ask her...she'll know."

It played out in slow motion. The door opening, then Irene. I remember nothing except the beautiful face of Irene rushing into the office of le grande frommage and looking at me empathetically and saying "Sadi, are you having a seizure?" to which all I could answer was a feeble "Yes." It was the last thing I heard before I slid almost entirely out of my chair. What happened after that will forever remain a mystery to me.

Next thing I remember, I woke up in my hotel room, surrounded by virtually the entire hotel staff. There were two women on either side of me, each holding my hands. A manager, nervously walking around and making tea. There was a small salad in front of me, as if waiting for me to regain consciousness and eat healthily. All told, there must have been about ten people in my room. I had been unconscious, in a deep sleep for several hours, which is common after one seizure, let alone what I had, which is called Status Epilepticus - a state in which an epileptic has one seizure after another in close sequence.

Status epilepticus is a life-threatening condition and one for which 911 should be called immediately. I should note that the only reason 911 had not been called was because I had said NO NO NO every time someone, anyone, tried to call 911 or take me to the hospital, which is where I needed to be. It is nothing short of a miracle that I didn't die that day in Texas.

The hotel staff kept insisting on going to the hospital or having the hospital come to me, which I did agree to. My wounds were dressed, the burn on my shoulder was dressed, and I was still a bit wonky as we say in the biz, but I was able to say that I had "forgotten" my medicine, which was a lie. I had not been taking it since October of the year before.

It was now July, so almost a year without anti seizure medication. The hotel, because of liability and because I believe they genuinely cared, went out of their way to make sure I had what I needed. They brought me endless cups of tea (my husband told them this often helped), they fed me, they held me while I cried after I woke up and realized what had happened and was so afraid I lack the words to tell you now the fear of knowing that I almost died and had been in a car, albeit for a very short while, a few blocks, I still could have killed someone else. Yes, I had the presence of mind to stop and park. But what if I had not? I know though, that you cannot spend your life with the What Ifs. That you must live and learn and go with the What Now.