In My Head

ONE DAY AFTER THE MOVE ~ Epilepsy Center ~ Logan

There's something about sitting in a waiting room that reminds me of the night my twin brother almost died. Kaden's sitting in the chair next to me. Forget how real the memories feel, they're just bad memories. Not reality. Kaden isn't in a hospital bed fighting for his life. He's right next to me. The thought almost makes me feel better.

Kaden stares down at the forms in his lap. His shaggy curly black hair covers his forehead, hanging over his eyes, and his medic alert necklace swings from his mouth. He always plays with that pendant when something is bothering him.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Mom says. "I can't fill this out." She tousles her hair and stares down at the medical forms-a chart with the directions: Record each seizure that occurs this month. Include type and length of seizure and time of day.

"I'll fill it out," I say.

Mom hands me her clipboard. It feels heavy, a huge weight in my lap. I use my cellphone calendar to write in the days, then starting with the last seizure and working my way back, I slowly fill the calendar up as best as I can, guessing when I can't remember exactly what time it was or how long it lasted. Those details are hard to remember, but the seizures? That's something I can't ever forget.

It's weird to put his seizures on a chart like this, to describe something so huge by writing numbers in a box. It needs to get better soon. Or at least stop getting worse.

I hand the clipboard back to Mom. She looks over the chart with a frown on her face. Kaden looks at me, then at Mom, and leans toward me. "What was that?" he asks.

"Just a calendar," I say.

He frowns. "For what?"

"Your seizures."

"Can I see it?"

"Don't worry, sweetie. We figured it out," Mom says.

"Just let him see," I say. Mom sighs and holds the clipboard out; I pass it to Kaden.

He studies the chart and leans toward me, brushes his finger over the sixteenth. I shake my head a fraction of an inch. We don't need Mom to find out about that, not after all we did to keep it a secret. Kaden bounces his eyebrows up and down. He knows exactly what I'm thinking, and he agrees. I take the forms from Kaden and give them back to Mom.

"D'you think Dad's coming?" Kaden mumbles in my ear.

Dad isn't here, and I really doubt he'd leave work at his new job. It was Dad's idea to get Kaden a better doctor, but he's the only one who isn't here. He didn't care that Kaden wanted to stay in West Linn, and so far, the move is only making it worse.

Kaden raises his eyebrows at me. I can't bring myself to tell him that Dad isn't going to be here, but wouldn't a lie hurt just as much? Kaden stares forward and slouches down in his chair. He squeezes his pendant in his fist. I guess he took my silence as a no. I slide down in my chair until my lower spine and my elbows rest against the seat.

Mom sits forward and looks past me at Kaden. "Are you finished with your forms?"

Kaden shakes his head and glares at the medical questionnaire-QOLIE-in his lap. I lean over to take a look.

37. In the past 4 weeks how often did you have someone available if you needed and wanted help? Kaden circles very often. He's writing something. I lean forward to see.

He feels bad? Wait, he actually thinks about how it affects me? I don't buy it. He probably feels down on himself for always needing someone to watch him.

The next set of questions is statements made by people with epilepsy. Circle the answer that comes closest to how you feel about yourself.

38. I consider myself to be less than perfect because of my epilepsy. Kaden stares at the forms with a grimace on his face and circles agree. I sit farther back in my chair, but I don't look away.

39. If I applied for a job and someone else who didn't have epilepsy applied for the same job, the employer should hire the other person. Kaden circles agree without hesitation.

40. I can understand why someone wouldn't want to date me because I have epilepsy.

I never really thought about dating someone with epilepsy. I definitely wouldn't go looking for someone who has epilepsy, but I wouldn't break up with a girl just because of epilepsy. Kaden circles agree. Crap. He shouldn't think that epilepsy is an excuse to run away from girls.

41. I don't blame people for being afraid of me because I have epilepsy. Kaden circles agree. If anyone should be afraid, it's Kaden. His seizures are scary, but they are his. Why should someone be scared of him, when they should be scared for him? Maybe he didn't understand the question.

42. I don't blame people for taking my opinions less seriously than they would if I didn't have epilepsy. Kaden circles disagree. He always gets pissed when we don't listen to him.

43. I feel that my epilepsy makes me mentally unstable. Kaden doesn't circle an answer. He slouches in his chair and rubs the back of his head. Why doesn't he just circle disagree? Kaden catches me watching him. He looks away with a frown. His right hand moves to cover the packet.

I pull my eyes away and stare at the floor.

Kaden answers the question and turns the page. He continues to fill out the form and cover his answers. He starts to write something. I can't help but sneak a peek at it.

He thinks I quit because I felt bad for him? That's not it at all. I had to quit. I didn't have a choice. When the seizures started, Mom made it a rule that Kaden couldn't be alone. So Kaden's best friend Jake took care of him at school, and I babysat him at home. I couldn't go anywhere, because he never wanted to do anything. I had to quit my job and the band, and stop going out with friends. Now that we moved, it will only get worse. Epilepsy is the center of my life, and I'm not even the one who has seizures.