One View Expanded

This story was written in under 10 minutes at Writers Group yesterday afternoon. The exercise was to write about a still life composed of a tipped over kitchen chair, a pashmina draped untidily over the chair and a folded road map lying on the floor by the chair.

First Picture ~

It was far too obvious. The kitchen chair tipped over as though ‘accidentally’ placing itself on the floor. Mother’s beautiful turquoise pashmina - thank heaven’s it wasn’t her good one - was slung quickly over the rungs. I guess he must have heard the door and not had time to take it with him. It seemed tangled and would have dragged the chair across the floor. Too noisy! But the map? What is that child up to now?

Caving! Her young son was always rearranging furniture and, finding a map, would make a scene like a place he found on the map. This time, he was in the Guadalupe mountains where caves were tucked all over and the sky turned deep turquoise just before dusk.  Joel had watched enough National Geographic on Knowledge Network to know all of these details. Joel’s mother also found the crumbs of a cookie or sandwich he had been eating while taking his trip to this other world.’

~~~~~

After the fact, it occurred to me that when there is epilepsy in the household, a fallen chair would not bring an image of trying to make a cave and play act at caving. So this morning I penned this next piece: 

Expanded View

As Joel had grown up, his seizures had become less frequent and less intense.  He had responded well to medication from the beginning. The potential for seizures was still at the forefront for his mom, Shannon. Dr. Clark, their paediatrician since Joel had been born, had suggested that this may happen, that Joel could grow out of his seizures, although warning that it may not. Much would depend on how well his response to treatment was and how well his health care was managed. Dr. Clark sounded awfully strict, but his strictness had proven to make life much more manageable.

So, Joel’s mom Shannon had never been certain. She still made certain about medications, sleep patterns and not too much stimulation for too long. That did cut a few birthday parties short, or kept group activities small, but so much better than a seizure in the middle of festivities.

While some parents were focussing on math skills or music practice or all the running about for classes and games, Shannon and her husband, Mike, were coaching Joel about coping skills. It really had become second nature to the family. Progressing in school, home and community were continually reinforced. Shannon was under no illusion that Joel would grow out of the epilepsy that he carried so stoically. 

Smiling, she recognized the cave was an upturned chair, with the pashmina that covered it all, and the map. Joel had not made epilepsy his identity. He was really an adventurer, with a bit of a heavy pack to shoulder.