I know you know I've got this great writing gig over at marijuana.com. What you might not know is that Saturday (two days ago) was Purple Day. I'm not so into these days when we mark whatever hell is closest to our doors, but I do feel you can never be too aware of the effects of epilepsy, so I wrote a little personal piece for the website.
I'm no good at raising money anymore and am too mouthy to be much of a lobbyist. I have a problem with authority, to tell you the truth. In fact, even this past Saturday night, I had a deep and involved conversation with a developmental pediatrician who was compassionate, enlightened and a bit of a mansplainer, all rolled into one. I have to tell you, though, that despite my sharing Sophie's success with cannabis, he didn't ask me a single question about it. In lieu of doing anything constructive about this or perhaps admitting that the fault lies with me (I must sound dumb or offensive or crazy or something), I've decided that this is a rule and not an exception. His eyes didn't exactly glaze over, but he made more effort to disagree with me about my assertion that it's unethical to prescribe five drugs for a child with a seizure disorder that's already failed nine. When I told him that I've probably met or know of thousands of children with refractory epilepsy and have yet to meet one whose seizures stopped with the fourteenth or fifteenth drug, he disagreed and claimed to know some. To be fair, he admitted that it was often "the honeymoon effect," and his eyes flickered when I told him that Sophie had never been on a honeymoon so I was pretty certain that the cannabis wasn't working because of this phenomenon but was actually working, like, for real! I won't even mention the glaze his eyes took over when I casually dropped the little bomb that Sophie's seizures began after her initial vaccinations and worsened when she was vaccinated again while being treated with steroids.
The kind doctor is doing beautiful work with the disadvantaged and foster children -- and I'm cognizant of the fact that perhaps the fault lies with me and my ability to be persuasive and diplomatic and sensitive. Oh, and to be careful with that edgy, angry thing I do. I admit that when he declared his alliances with Various and Important Associations and Pediatric Monoliths, my own eyes glazed over.
The rift is enormous, you see, and I've no interest in vindication.
In any case, I can tell a story, can't I? My ability to do so is probably the only remnant of my sanity left after these twenty-one years.
Here's the link. Show it some love and share it if you think others might benefit.