For 50 million epileptics in the world, daily life can be sheer terror. Will I seize when I'm driving? Will I collapse while I'm bathing my baby? Some epileptics are lucky enough to get a warning, such as seeing a weird light or tasting something funny or hearing something odd. These auras allow them to prepare for a firestorm in the brain that can cause convulsions, muscle spasms, and loss of consciousness. Others say their dogs can sense an attack on the way. For the vast majority of epileptics, however, there is no warning—ever. And for more than 12 1/2 million epileptics, even heavy daily doses of antiseizure medication will not keep the disease at bay.
"I felt like a dog on a leash," says Franklin Audis, 39, who remained tethered to electroencephalograph monitors throughout a seven-day stay at an epilepsy ward in Phoenix. Audis awaits the day when a chip implant could provide advance warning of a seizure: "It would be great to have medication automatically kick in."
