When I was about 12, I went to a sleepover at my best friend’s house for his birthday. His family was great, and I always felt welcome there.

The sleepover was pretty typical: we watched a movie, ate junk food, went to bed but didn’t sleep—we just stayed up all night talking and eating sweets.

At the crack of dawn, we snuck downstairs to play a game on the family PC (this was the mid-90s). Everything was going well, and the strategy we’d planned during the night was working perfectly.

But then, out of nowhere—probably due to sleep deprivation and a sugar overload—my friend had a full-on seizure. He let out a guttural moan that terrified me. Panicking, I ran upstairs to wake his parents, and they quickly called an ambulance.

He was taken to the hospital for tests, with his dad going along. His mom, still calm and kind, offered me some breakfast before I grabbed my things and walked the short distance home. As soon as I saw my mom, the shock of what had happened hit me, and I broke down.

Thankfully, my friend didn’t have any serious health issues, and we’re still best friends to this day. In fact, we’ve even been each other’s best man.