Commentary: Mis(h)adra by Iasmin Omar Ata
Mis(h)adra is a graphic novel by Iasmin Omar Ata, a Middle Eastern and Muslim comic artist, who himself lives with Epilepsy. Mis(h)adra follows Isaac, an Epileptic college student, struggling to live with his disability. For those of you like me who don't know anything about Epilepsy, I can't recommend this graphic novel enough; it's a fantastic learning resource to understand Epilepsy better, but it's also an emotional story about fighting for one's self and for life.
We see this dual experience clearly in the title. "Misadra" means "seizure" in Arabic, whereas "Mishadra" means "I can't." Isaac's experiences with seizures are terrifying, painful, disorienting, and fluid, sometimes familiar and other times foreign and new. The fear of the seizures and the seizures themselves, combined with uninformed public judgments, discrimination, and inaccessible care, push Isaac to the edge. I can't survive this. I can't live like this. I can't continue.
Isaac's triggers -- things that can instigate an epileptic episode or a seizure -- are sleep, dehydration, and physical or mental stress. The slice-of-life style of the story shows us in everyday moments how Isaac is constantly faced with each of these triggers (sometimes because of his own actions and sometimes because of the actions of others that he can't control).
For example: sleep. When a college party rages into the late hours of the night next door, Isaac has to calculate in his head what all has to happen for him to function the next morning so that he isn't putting himself at risk for an episode or a seizure. After he tries to report a noise complaint and after asking the party-goers to quiet down so he can sleep, to no success, Isaac has to pave his own way: "I'll stay home tomorrow," he decides. "I'll sleep in. I'll skip class. I'll call off my meeting. I'll cancel another day of my life for you."
The vast majority of the novel explores these everyday moments that can affect someone's health: how someone with epilepsy navigates the day-to-day, particularly as a college student.
We watch as Isaac tries to negotiate with others around him for space, quiet, patience, and, ultimately, a shoulder to lean on sometimes.
As Isaac deals with familial tension, medical discrimination, ableism at school, and the financial toll of accessing the medicine and care he needs, he slips deeper into debt, depression, and hopelessness. We start to gather a picture of how a condition like Epilepsy can make it feel impossible to survive. But then Isaac meets Jo, someone who is more connected to him than he first thinks, and who offers Isaac a much-needed oasis. She is a friend who listens, cares, and shows up in real ways to support Isaac when no one else does.
I felt, in the end, that the story was about finding friends who stand in solidarity with you, and who make life livable.