Falling from their Eyes

When I first saw Lydia, she was sitting in the university’s library without a care about the things around her. She was wearing black boots, men’s that is. I could tell her “wanna be jeans”, had been strangled that morning because of her thunder thighs. Its call a “Step Master”, get on it! There was even a stain right below her knee cap; maybe someone threw mud at her, Bulls eye! She had more chins than I Chinese phone book contained. That ugly scarf she wore around her neck to cover all the zits, looked like as if it was made by her blind grandmother or she got it from a flea market in the middle of Montana. She’s overweight something common around here. She wore a pair of stylish sun glasses, probably fake on her head that snuggled in her red shinny hair. Unfortunately her hair was the only thing pretty about her from the outside; I wondered what she was really like. Oh and did I mention her skin color, it looked like old cheese cake, not like the cakes one would find at a deli.
She was sleepy that day, after all it was two fifteen in the afternoon. Her fat sausage like fingers of her left hand was supporting her head. The other fingers were placed on her mouse mad of her computer. I would have paid big money to see her text. She had kept biting her finger nails; I guess an old habit of hers. Her rather large head sat on the side of her left shoulder like a pumpkin, any moment it might have fallen off. On her face contained a rather large chubby cheeks, it seemed as if she stuffed two muffins in her mouth for the long hall. She was listening to some kind of music, it was loud and it annoyed me. Her head phones had been vibrating which could have cause her hair and cheeks to vibrate if her cranked up the knob. Perhaps she was listening to Cold play, I wasn’t sure, but it was infuriating to hear. Maybe she was listening to something that would make her feel better about her self, lord knows she needs too, she look like crap. She was wearing a heavy zip-up hoody with skulls all over and even one large red skull on in the middle that split open when zipped.
She sat on this old wore-out reading chair, she and the chair were like two peas in a pot, just sitting there, while being surrounded by nicer looking chairs and people. It was as if she was in her old little world, and nothing could change it. She must’ve had a cold or the sniffles recently because of all the tissues lying on the floor that had surrounded her like salt for a protection. I noticed she had a messenger too, that make two of use, except hers was heavy metal looking with skulls and spikes and my bag is Vintage made in Tokyo. (Or so its says) Her bag was as big as her hand, small but stuffed with items inside. The bag had rested on the side of the wore-out chair with a tissue on top that was wiped off by Lydia and landed on her bad, it had covered a piece of a skull imprinted. She just kept sitting in that chair, rooted for life or at least till closing time.
She had one of the schools computer, the computer everyone hates the “think pads”; I call them “shit-pads”. The computer rested on her lap like a sleepy puppy and her blank white face was staring at the computer screen, I wonder what she was looking at, facebook, the usual. Facebook will do that to you, one minute you’re on facebook, an hour later you find yourself still on facebook, surfing through your friends’ pages and stranger’s pages too. She hardly blinked, a few times she even took a breathe she when scanned the room. I wonder if she knew I was observing her every move, probably not with fifty plus students around us. Her eyes, pierced during her scanning like a watch dog. The first floor of the library is huge so she had a rotated with her head I found it painful because of the angle she titled her head to look around. She finally returned her eyes back onto her computer screen. I think she had given up, I win!
She kept biting her finger nails again as if she was so nervous, but why did she kept biting, did she find out what her grade was in pysch, was it a forty three? It was gross; just staring at her while her sausage like fingers were going into her small mouth; it looked it a mission for astronauts. She had plenty of text books in the chair with her, and on the table in front of her. It looked as if she was having a tea party with her books. I was just afraid one of those books would come into life and ask her if she wanted to read a chapter out loud in front of the other books. Then it occurred to me, she looked like a Katie or a Rena, I wasn’t sure why. Actually I lied, I did know why, she looked like my older brothers ex-girlfriend who name was Rena and she was a big girl.
I finally gathered up my courage to walk towards her and sit in the worn out chair next to her. I sat down, I practically sank to the bottom, and I placed my coffee on the table in front of me and took of my coat. I had taken a deep breathe was ready to talk with her. I looked at her once, turned away swiftly, she had a spare zit on that fore head again, kind of like having a spare tire in the trunk, always there. I took a drink of my mocha, and finally broke out with words to her,’
“Um excuse me”, I said with a cough, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to interview you. You see, I’m doing a research paper over a complete stranger and you seem to be right for it. Is it okay if I might ask a few questions?”
“Umm, yeah, I guess…” poor Lydia had answered. She spoke for a while answering some questions. Lydia was different, she was open and not was I expected of one would be. She simply was delightful to speak with. She pretty much told me a part of her life story that she felt was needed for her own satisfaction.
The way she had sat on that wore-out chair, it looked as if the computer would slide right off and crash off from her mountain of legs. Maybe with all the tissues on the floor it would cushion the fall. She was so calm, collective and well poised. She at peace with something, maybe a recent test she just took and by coming to the library and listening to “Cold Play” she allows her stress to fall on the floor like all her tissue she wiped from her lap and chair. She celebrated something through peace.
I continued to ask her about her medical issue she faces and she continued to tell her story. “We have tried everything possible, including nearly twenty anti-seizure medications” said Lydia. The many overnight video EEGs that she has had also show that she has lots of spikes during the night. According to Wikipedia, EEG is “electrical activity along the scalp produced by the firing of neurons within the brain. In clinical contexts, EEG refers to the recording of the brain's spontaneous electrical activity over a short period of time, usually 20–40 minutes, as recorded from multiple electrodes placed on the scalp.”
I also found out from Lydia, that the VNS, which is a peace maker for the brain and many tests to see if she is a candidate for brain surgery and she wasn’t. I ask her what VNS device does and Lydia, had answered, “It is placed under the skin on the chest wall and a wire runs from it to the vagus nerve in the neck”.
She continued to say, “I am now four months into the low glucose diet for seizures and it appears to be helping just a little”. Lydia says she’s been “wonderful” about eating the right foods and not eating the high-carb foods that she likes so much. She understands how important this is in trying to control the seizures that currently disturb her life. I am amazed at her courage, through all the many tests and hospitalizations, and now the new challenge to her self-control.
I am also amazed at her positive attitude and her eagerness to run, dance, swim, and do most everything that others do, despite the fact that she might fall at any time. She is the most courageous kid that I have ever known! Finally, I showed my new friend a picture of a painting of an old friend of mine back home in who painted a self portrait what she thought of herself when concentrating. I explained to Lydia this picture and the meaning behind it “because you had reminded me of this painting when I first saw you”. I told Lydia and continued to say, “I imagined that you had been concentrating like the girl in the painting when I first noticed you”. Both Lydia and the little girl in the painting seem like they could use their special powers to control the seizures, and when their eyes are black and purple, like in the TV series, Heroes, where their eyes turn color when they use their special powers. This young girl who is funny, though shy, her silence is really a cage to hide her real soul. She’s so full of vigor; it practically gives off like hyper vibes! Her smile, it shows her soul has a soft side – with understanding, understanding of many things, like the world begin made up of fantastic ingredients –each with their own flavor. She’s brave! Seemingly very able to get back up whenever she falls! Unless – it’s a turn. But, due to her courageous demeanor, she’ll kick the curb’s ass! And show, that she rules. She’s a dreamer, one-of-a-kind, and she’ll prove it. She’ll show by not only her style and spirit, but with that fashion! Didn’t I mention? Tons of gloves for any occasion!
I also believe that the dark eyes in Lydia and like ones from the painting might represent the darkness that she experiences when she loses consciousness. In this painting, the girl is also showing off red hair which reminded me of Lydia’s bravery from tuberous sclerosis. She had seizures nearly every day for the past fourteen (out of her nineteen) years. She wakes up nearly every morning to a couple of seizures and also sometimes has them during the day. Lately, she has experienced seizures that come with no warning and make her fall down, sometimes causing her to hurt herself. Lydia’s told me she “has to wear a helmet much of the time” so if she falls she wouldn’t hurt her head. She also has “cluster” seizures every few days, where intervention is required to stop them or they would continue indefinitely.
When I first saw Lydia, she was sitting in the universities library without a care about the things around her. Next time I see her, and I have a friend with me and they wonder “who’s that girl in the corner, so quiet and so strange?” I’ll say “Well, hell, that’s Lydia, you know! Hard to anger, unless you’re a meanie yourself. She’s sweeter than you’d think –go on and find out!” And what’s cool, that THIS lamo thought most? She digs some groovy books, which are misunderstood, well, by her generation, anyway, but not by a kid. And that’s giga cool, which she’ll show.
She’s smarter than most – she’s funny and proud! A warrior if only and a lot to be found. She still has innocence, and won’t shun anyone. And, hey – take it from this stray cat – Lydia is one kick ass person, it any at that! No lie, that’s for sure. She’s respectful of you. She’s respectful of me. In any case, a true person, indeed, and that’s something you’ll see – if you meet the soul that brims within Lydia’s beat.