This is a 26 month old male child with a four month history of seizures who the evening of admission had a fever which rose rapidly from normal to 104 degrees, at which point he was noted to have a grand mal seizure. He had been in his normal state of health until that afternoon, when he was noted to have a fever. The family gave him baths, Tylenol times two but the fever continued to climb. Private MD was called who advised to continue the same therapy, after which the temperature continued to climb to 104. Child had a seizure and was brought to the emergency room here from where he was admitted. Since his arrival to the hospital he had one seizure in the emergency room and was seen by the senior resident who admitted him. There is a history of seizures since February of 1984, initially occurring at a rate of several per week.

I can only imagine how freaked out my parents must have been. Especially my mom, because she freaks out about everything. Also, they realized when I was around that age that my immune system was screwed up. Whenever an infection went around, I would get the worst version of it and end up with bronchitis or pneumonia.

I only really remember one hospital visit from this period. I was running around naked at our house in Washington and a bee stung me right where it hurts. There was some bad swelling involved. Not a very pleasant way to discover you are allergic to bee stings.

It was always something. I had surgery for a hernia. At one point I had a prolapsed lung, which means part of my lung was basically collapsed, and they thought it might be cystic ?fibrosis. I had to have what's called a sweat test, where they put these weird gloves on your hands and then test them afterwards. My mom says that the whole staff at Children's Hospital told her to pray that I didn't have it, because it would mean I would have died in my twenties. Luckily, the tests were negative. I rarely felt totally healthy, and I was at the doctor's office constantly as a kid. My mom says she felt like she lived there. This description is from a doctor's visit when I was eight, and it's typical of many of my visits to the doctor during these years:

Teacher describes Quinn as "out of it," cannot concentrate (space). Allergies, stomach ache, rash under arm and neck, temperature 100 last night.

It was constantly like that. And those were just the minor ones. When I was about four, my parents put me into the Lab School, a new school for learning-disabled kids in Washington, D.C. I was the youngest kid there. I think I might have been the youngest kid ever to go there. But they were very welcoming to me.

Up until that time, there really weren't very many places for learning-disabled kids to go. The Lab School was the first place in Washington that was set up for somebody like me. I don't know what I would have done without it. Sally Smith, a great lady who recently passed away, founded the school, and the teaching focused on what kids could do, not what they couldn't. Lots of learning by doing, lots of art.

The truth is that I don't remember a lot of my particular experience at the Lab School, but I do remember my second- or third-grade teacher, Ms. Pursuance. She was the best teacher in the world, and I was her pet. During class she would give me back rubs. My dad says I spent the entire year sitting in the prettiest teacher's lap, and that was about right. I would sit on her lap while all the other kids were doing work, and she'd just give me back rubs. She was really, really good to me. So was Neenah Selenite, who was the head of the lower school and was always pretty forgiving when I got into trouble.