That was what the doctor called them. Those tremors my brother had.
I didn’t know that as a child, of course. My next memory of Bill and his health dealt with the giving of his medicine. (In a teaspoon of applesauce.)
I do know, that after that day, I was more by his side than ever before. I wasn’t waiting for something to happen again. I wasn’t scared.
I was soaking up him. Because, in my six-year-old mind, Bill was fine. He was smiling and playing and doing all the things he used to do. I thought it was all over, and I wasn’t going to waste a second.
But, it wasn’t. He continued to have seizures until he was two. Grace went with my mom for some of his doctor visits and Mom told me the Febrile Convulsions may not be the root of the problem.
He might have an immature brain stem. It would develop over time, but there was no telling what it would do to him in the long run.
It is important to tell you that I didn’t know about the brain stem concern until I was 13. Mom also told me, at that time, that the doctors said he wouldn’t be able to walk or talk.
But, the only effects I saw from those horrible tremors was a boy who concentrated really, really hard on crawling, and climbing, and walking, and talking.
If he hadn’t been so determined maybe it wouldn’t have happened. And, of course it didn’t happen the normal way. The walking, the talking…it all has its own story.
People called this his struggle and his triumph.
And, I might agree with them…but I think it was harder to grow up with four women in the house…