Epilepsy Chronicles: The Pill

     Not as you might think, I took The Pill.  Not The Pill, but, The Pill, nonetheless.  Not as a young woman, but, as a young child--a six-year-old, perhaps.
     Born not of an egg, but, of tissue wrapping my left brain--scar tissue.  Five times, at birth, my umbilical cord was roped around my neck.  Five times, my umbilical cord--my Boa--constricted the flow of oxygen to my brain.  The Boa choked the left side of my brain lifeless.  The Boa wrapped my brain in tissue--scar tissue.
The Boa damaged my brain for life.
    The Boa chokes me.  Not satisfied to choke me once for all time, the Boa wraps around my neck
 again and again.  He charges my brain with surges of electrical energy.  Bolts of lightning travel from my brain down through my right arm to my right leg.  In thunderous storms, the Boa wraps himself more tightly around the left side of my brain.
    As the winner of a bad Miss America contest, the Boa falls into a satin Miss Seizure America sash.  Through the satin sash surges the seizures electrical energy.  From left side of my brain down across to my right arm and right leg the lightning bolt travels.
    Not concerned with my eggs' cycles, my eyes see no further than The Boa's wrap.
    Not as you might think, I took The Pill.  Not The Pill, but, The Pill, nonetheless.  Not as a young woman, but, as a young child--a six-year-old, perhaps.
    Not as you might think, I remember, "The First Time."
    With great anticipation of an unimaginable "present," I received a gift I did not request--a gift I needed.
    I sat at the round, teak, dinning room table.  With my brother, sister, and dad, I waited.  I looked out the window.  On the long driveway, my eyes were fixated.  The Saturday morning sunshine lit the auburn, teak dining room table.  We sat.  We waited.  Beyond the blond pocket door, Mom prepared a special breakfast.  Pancakes, perhaps.  Something to soften what was being forced down my throat.
    Before me was presented a pale, yellow-faced pill.  A small, triangular pill.  Dilantin, Mom tells me.  It is chewable. Hmmmm.....What will it taste like.
    I place the pill into my mouth.  I bite down.  Not bad.  Not sweet.  Not candy.  I never liked candy, anyway.