This particular story takes place at the ren fair this past weekend. Saturday had pleasant weather, but it turned out to be too hot for my daughter, who tends not to sweat and was in garb. She began displaying signs of confusion and irritation, but was determined to charge onward all the same. Which, unsurprising to me, led directly to a seizure.
Now, I am used to these events and know that, as long as she is still breathing, that there is nothing to do but wait it out. Most people simply passed by, not ever noticing the young woman prone in the dirt. A few came up, asking if they should call for assistance. This is the norm. My role in all this is to simply assure others that she isn't dead or about to die, and to make the entire situation look as unremarkable as possible.
After a good 15 minutes, she finally regained consciousness and began slowly scolding me, as usual, for not having done an adequate job of both being right there and leaving her alone. She's my child, so I expect this too.
While we engaged in our ritual of mother/daughter dynamics, and I was thinking that I no longer had to be on the lookout for people bothering her, a foot suddenly comes down on her diaphragm. Attached to that foot was a woman in a fairy costume. After a shocked split second, M.D. pushes the fairy off and chokes out: "I'm not part of the performance" while I holler "She's just coming out of a seizure. Get off her!" A different fairy inquires if she should go get help, but personal-space invader fairy just stands there gob-smacked.
We expect people to stare, to inquire, to want to try out their Red Cross skills. We expect them to just walk by quickly, pretending there is nothing out of the ordinary happening at all. But we never expected that anyone would decide that someone who has fallen to the ground makes a great prop.
16 hours ago