Terry Tracy

from  A GREAT PLACE FOR A SEIZURE

In post-seizure social encounters, Mischa learned to distinguish between those who were making a genuine inquiry about her health and those who enjoyed singling out her vulnerability. Before joining the Council, Mischa had had nearly eighteen years of experience in making these judgments.

To those who perceived the seizure as a sign of weakness, she tried to control herself from making passive-aggressive remarks; instead, she provided some bit of information about epilepsy before leaving the conversation. If the inquiry about her health was sincere, she would let them pace the conversation, assure them that she was not insulted by their questions, and allow their curiosity to run its course. In a conference like this, she had to take the inquiries and keep herself from getting too defensive. When she had the opportunity, she would introduce a topic for discussion where they could begin to deal with her like any other work colleague, not the one who had seizures. In her initial return after a seizure, this protocol was vital.

That afternoon, seated next to Sophie at the negotiating table, Mischa felt like a potted plant. She was grateful that Sophie understood how critical it was for Mischa to be at the table. It was not only for her own confidence, but for her effectiveness in future negotiations. Throughout the afternoon, Sophie made it look as if she were consulting Mischa. She would turn and point to a certain spot on the resolution. Mischa?s advice was never as clear and precise as her usual standard, but this Kabuki theater act was important for her credibility. Sophie nodded seriously while other delegations looked on studiously.

Completely drained when she returned to her room at the Chateau Frontenac, Mischa immediately took off her heels and threw her blazer on the gilded armchair next to the window. The hotel stood on a cliff overlooking Quebec City. Mischa raked her mind to remember the name of the Alfred Hitchcock movie where she first saw its silhouette. She looked down from her window and thought how her mother would have loved the charm and elegance of this city. Perhaps she and her mother would have come here to a cafe. Perhaps it would have reminded her mother of her childhood in Paris, one of the posts where her father had served as the ambassador.

There was a knock on the door and Mischa opened it to find Sophie, visibly spent.

"Thank you for sitting by my side today." Sophie put her briefcase down, took off her heels, and walked over to one of the armchairs.

"I was useless. I needed to be there and you let me stay. I?m so grateful, Sophie."

She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Sophie was the perfect friend; she never pitied her, she was never frustrated, and she never pored over her medical issues. She just let Mischa get on with her life. She didn?t broach the subject of seizures; she simply let Mischa talk, and if she did not, Sophie let it alone.

"Of course, Mischa, anytime. It?s important for the delegation as much as it?s important to you. I would never give anyone reason to doubt you."

"That means a lot to me." Mischa?s eyes watered.

Sophie had to lighten the conservation. She surveyed the gilt antiques, the mirrors and brocades. "You know, I feel like I should be wearing a ball gown when I?m in these hotel rooms. I don?t know how they do it. I always thought Louis XIV interior decorating was for gay men with a Cinderella complex, but these rooms are so elegant, I?m almost converted. I?m going to re-think my mid-century modern look."

"I feel like Marie Antoinette, only I?d like to have my head chopped off."

"I have some extra-strength aspirin if you need it."

"No, I?ve taken a few already. It?s fine. The headaches fade eventually," she assured Sophie.

"Mischa, you know I love and care for you, but I?m going to ask. Why didn?t you leave Washington a day early for this trip? You had two other seizures outside the country when we were on travel. We both concluded that you would operate better with a little more rest after traveling, a day before and a day after." Sophie knew this was a little harsh, but there was no better time to confront her. She couldn?t let Mischa ignore her pleas again.

"Sophie, what would it look like if I asked to go to Buenos Aires or Miami a day before? There always is such last-minute stuff in DC before conferences. If I leave early, I miss out. I don?t want preferential treatment. I don?t want people thinking I?m not carrying my load."

"Mischa, you have to acknowledge your limitations. You cannot get off a plane and go into a meeting. Your body just doesn?t work that way. Don?t fight it. You can?t push yourself like this. It?s not rational and it?s not reasonable. People know your work ethic. They know you wouldn?t be trying to ease your load. Hell, if you come early, you can even do scouting for us. Work with your limitations, don?t keep trying to deny and defy them. There, I?ve said it. I know you're mad at me, but I couldn?t let this wait until we were back in DC. I would have probably just avoided it again."

"Yes, I am mad. But of all people, I would rather hear it from you. It?s just hard for me to come to grips with it. I?ll do something."

Readers can find out more about A Great Day for a Seizure at Samuel Miller's blog on disabilities literature, arts and events.