45 years later

I know exactly where I was.

My mother "let me" stay up to watch it because I had an EEG in the morning.
They wanted to know why I screamed and walked in my sleep every night.

So the protocol was... I had to stay up all night, go to the hospital, they gave me some drugs, put me on an uncomfortable gurney, and wired up my head.  And funny... I slept like a log.  Didn't move at all.

Even at age 9, I knew their experiment was flawed.
The first of many inconclusive tests. Which is all of them.

Those doctor's diagnosis?  "She'll grow out of it."

I suppose I should just be grateful that I do remember.

(bonus memory- I had what was left of my tonsils removed when I was 7.)