It started with a sound in the middle of the night. A soft, almost childlike giggle followed by a strange humming that sent a chill through me. At first, I thought I was dreaming—but when I turned over, I saw my husband, Sayed, lying beside me with his eyes half-open, fluttering his hands in the air as if pretending to fly. His lips twitched, and his body moved in small, jerky motions.
Something felt deeply wrong.
“Sayed?” I whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. He didn’t answer. The laughter turned into murmured words I couldn’t understand. My heart pounded. I grabbed my phone and called 911.
Paramedics arrived within minutes, lights flashing across the bedroom walls. They rushed him to the hospital while I sat in silence, unsure of what had just happened. A doctor later explained that Sayed had experienced a mild seizure, likely brought on by stress or lack of sleep.
But as I sat outside his hospital room, staring through the glass, something inside me shifted. He looked like a stranger—someone I once knew, now unreachable.
A nurse quietly asked if Sayed had shown any unusual behavior lately. I hesitated. I wanted to say no, but the truth was harder to admit.
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