Why I’m Unafra >

Why I’m Unafra >

“Who lives similar to this?” my then 7-year-old son cried away whenever their cousin, then 13 yrs . old, did a face-plant into her supper dish. We pressed right back my stool, stood up, and caught her as she seized, deftly unbuckling the band that kept her safe in her own stool, and eased her jerking body towards the flooring.

Her other cousin, 9 yrs . old, had already cost the family room to seize a pillow to place under her head when I kept her stiffening and jerking hands and feet from striking the dining dining table legs and kitchen stove. He brushed straight back the hair from her face together with his own small hand.

“It’s OK, it is OK, it is OK,” we murmured, until it stopped and she ended up being nevertheless. We crouched down beside her, place my arms under her feet, and lifted her limp human anatomy up, making my means down the hallway and into her space.

Share on Pinterest Image supply: Elizabeth Aquino

The males climbed right back onto their stools and completed their dinners while we sat with Sophie, watching her fall under the deep sleep that generally accompanied these seizures that she had nearly every solitary evening during the dinning table. (more…)