Stress is a Silent Killer: Pt. II

April 18, 2026

You know what really aids the dissertation process? A hospital admission.

TRIGGER WARNING: A little blood in the picture below.

There's not a single PhD holder on Earth that will tell you that they didn't go insane when drafting their thesis. I have the bad habit of multitasking to be as efficient as possible; I decided the best way to counteract the stress of writing was to play a relaxing multiplayer co-op (Stardew Valley), almost as a sort of karmic-balancing of stress and relaxation. I was also due to host a charity livestream that day to raise money for Type 1 diabetes research. Extremely productive, I must say.

Cue waking up on the floor.

Now, this ordeal was a lot more traumatic for the people around me than it was for myself. Granted, I didn't even remember what happened. So this is from my husband's POV:

"I heard a giant crash, and I turned around only to see you on the floor convulsing. You knocked over the white rack next to your desk and well as the microphone. There was foam coming out of your mouth and you were making this horrible noise. I was on the phone crying to 911 telling them that you had a seizure and to please hurry. There were tears on your face, but the those were from me. You were seizing for 15-30 seconds, and when you woke up, you asked me 'Who are you? I want my husband!', which was not fun to hear."

My best friend's POV (her brain is the background of this blog!):

"At first I thought you had knocked your mic off like normal and then the crashes kept happening. I thought like a bookcase fell on you. Then I heard [husband] start to freak out and noises coming out of you that I've only heard from people who were dying actively. I thought you died. Then I heard him start crying on the phone with 911 saying you had a seizure but I could hear you choking until they told him to put you on your side. You woke up and were really confused. It was muffled but you for sure didn't recognize [husband] and I thought I heard you speaking Bengali but it was really muffled so like idk. And then after a while I heard the paramedics come in and you sounded more coherent."

I only remember waking up on the floor and asking what happened, to which I was told I had a seizure. It felt surreal at that moment, especially because I was perfectly fine just moments before; I was pretty much in disbelief until I put my hand up to my mouth, which felt like a waterfall had erupted and trickled down my chin. Apparently I had been awake and responsive before that moment, but obviously I was on autopilot.

The EMS that responded were fantastic. Apparently when asking me what I was studying, I told him I was a neuroscientist, to which he responded: "Oh god I promise I'll try my best, you're like the GUY". Absolutely hilarious-- I wish I was there to witness it.

I wound up in the Emergency Department with a heart rate of 172, a bruised face, a scalp laceration, a bruise along my zygomatic arch, and strict orders not to even breathe without supervision. Luckily the MRI and CT came out clean. The scariest part was, there were no warning signs nor any indication that I was about to have a health emergency-- I was fine one second and then the next my husband was going to become a widower four months into our marriage. As you might have guessed, this was the final warning sign from my body to STOP. It didn't matter if I was weeks away from defending, any more stress and I wasn't going to make it to my defense.

The one upside from all of this is seeing how the people around me extended a helping hand and helped me through all of it. From my own students to other colleagues on the floor, so many people came together to support me through all of this. I'm forever thankful to those that stood behind me and offered to take on some of my load to help me recuperate. I'm glad to say that I defended on May 19th, 2026, and I'm living my best, low-cortisol life (until I land a post-doc, that is). :)