Initial Diagnosis

(Chapter Extract)

..I decided to consult the family doctor, aka my Mum. My Mum isn’t a doctor and her regular medical predictions and stories of illnesses about Mrs. So-and-So’s son or daughter increased my sister’s irritability rating to from defcon 5 to homicidal; ‘For God’s sake, Mum! You’re not a doctor!’ However, my Mum was correct in her assumption that it sounded like epilepsy. At this time, epilepsy was an entire anonymity to me. We were never given any education or first aid advice on the condition at school and I don’t remember any of my fellow pupils having seizures. In fact, the only reference I had ever made to it was, “Don’t have an eppy!” This was a phrase that we all used to address someone when they were losing their temper. It’s more than likely no longer prevalent, what with the increase in policing of any type of discrimination in society. Now with clarity, I can understand the relationship with the slander. School can be a cruel place!  

My Mum’s diagnosis was confirmed with a visit to our GP and I was referred to a specialist centre for children. Not particularly favourable for a sixteen-year-old. I was instructed to stay awake the night before a second appointment at the centre, whereby they would wire up my head to an analysing contraption I’d only seen in horror films. Think Frankenstein. My parents followed instruction and took it in shifts to keep me awake..