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Life is Like a Crazy Quilt

At 92 years old, Bunnie Donohue may be the oldest person in the country to lead a support group. Several years ago, she was diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy.

Bunnie Donohue She is 92 years old and proud of it. Bunnie Donohue is also the oldest person in Arizona, maybe even the country, to lead an epilepsy support group.

Six years ago Bunnie was diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy, the probable result of a stroke. Her seizures are of a rare type - she's either in a state of severe fear and anxiety, or wildly hysterical with laughter.

Bunnie's epilepsy affects her senses, specifically taste and smell. The only thing Bunnie "ate" for a year after being diagnosed with epilepsy was the liquid nutritional drink, Ensure, because she could not stand the smell, taste and texture of food.

Bunnie's been told that she is very lucky. Without proper diagnosis and treatment, she could have been "locked away in a facility for the mentally ill."

Like many elderly epilepsy patients, Bunnie is very sensitive to medication, and has severe side effects from most of the anti-seizure medicines. She keeps her seizures under control with a single medication. While she doesn't like the sedative effect, it beats the "terrible nightmare state" that grips her during a seizure.

My Life is Like a Crazy Quilt
By Bunnie Donohue

My life is like a crazy quilt
Hanging on a line blowing in the wind
The pieces are all shapes and sizes, color and texture
A moving, whirling, sometimes tortured thing.
Some pieces are smooth and bright, some rough and frayed some dark as death, and some starting to fade.

My life is like a crazy quilt
Blowing free, now with grace, now with pain
Reaching, turning, wondering, seeking.
The edges are raveled and wild, threads are wearing thin
There is still work to be done, spaces to fill.
Time is essential before the wind is still.

Like many people with epilepsy, Bunnie is learning to cope with the problems and continue to live a full and happy life.

And, she has little patience for "those old people who don't want to use their brains.

"They just sit around and play bingo," she continued.

The vivacious, funny, and sometimes flirtatious Bunnie does not believe in being idle. In fact, the only time you'll see her "just sitting around" is when she is waiting for transportation. In addition to epilepsy, her eyesight has also deteriorated. Even then, she is a keen observer, and usually manages to find something of interest while she is waiting.

She says that the seizure disorder almost got control of her. She felt powerless to fight it. But she is a very determined and feisty lady. Knowledge was the only weapon she could find.

As she searched for information about her disorder, she found the Epilepsy Foundation of Arizona. The affiliate was in the early stages of their Seniors & Seizures Program. The first public seminar took place in Sun City, a well-known retirement community in Arizona. Sun City is also where Bunnie lives. She went to the program and met doctors who specialized in treating epilepsy. She also met other people with the disorder. She found a source of information and people who could provide peer support.

Bunnie's life story could be a movie of the week. She was born on a ranch in rural Colorado where she lived until she was 3 years old. Her father was killed in a cyclone and her mother moved back to town.

Bunnie grew up and became a teacher. In her first job teaching, she lived with a local family and rode a horse to the one-room school. It was a three-day trip to return to her mother's home. In time, her mother became lonely for her, so Bunnie moved back to the small town and taught art and music until the Great Depression.

She married a medical student who was working his way through school by driving an ambulance at night to make house calls - Bunnie used to ride with him in the ambulance. They moved to Chicago after he completed his medical training and had two children. Then came World War II. Her husband went off to war, and she soon became a widow. She remarried a widower without children. He worked for AT&T and like many young executives in the post-war era was transferred frequently, first to Indianapolis and then Oklahoma City. Together, they raised Bunnie's children. After having a heart attack, he retired early and the two of them moved to the mountains in Colorado. For four years they were very happy, but then the electricity went out and they were snowed in. It seemed like the perfect time to move to Sun City.

Bunnie stayed active with her artistic interests, and found a new world in weaving, which she also teaches. Her weaving was brought to an end by her failing eyesight. She fought glaucoma and macular degeneration for twenty years, but is now legally blind. This hasn't stopped her. She has become interested in writing and participates in a writer's group, dictating her stories on tape rather than writing them. She also illustrates some of her poetry.

Her message to others with epilepsy is very clear. "This thing does not own you. It is not bigger than you. You are more than this problem. Take control of it. You do not have to be a victim."

Editor's note: the writer is a program coordinator with the Epilepsy Foundation of Arizona.