Rose had seizures everywhere. There was no secret to be kept.
The stares did not bother me, most of the time.
I knew that the observers were puzzled and concerned.
What I dreaded were the comments.
Have you tried…? My uncle had seizures and he… You should take her to…
These strangers did not know how long we had been struggling for a solution.
They were just trying to help, but…
When Rose was home-bound from school, we took her to a little restaurant with a train running around near the ceiling.
We knew she would like to watch it.
She sat wrapped in a towel to keep her from getting chilled.
She had bruises on her face from a previous seizure.
We sat down in a booth (always a booth) near a big table full of policemen eating lunch.
My child, bruised and pale, wrapped in a towel, not in school.
Were we going to be questioned? Child abuse? Neglect?
No need to worry. Rose had a seizure.
I lay her down in the booth with my purse under her head.
We sat and waited for her to come to.
As a lady was leaving, she walked over to us.
I was prepared for a comment or question.
Instead, she just patted my shoulder and silently walked away.
Thank you wise woman. All I needed was a love pat.