My little Maddie swallowed a seizure pill twice a day for four years. She never once had a seizure. Not one. And I’m the one who handed her every single dose with a glass of orange juice, the way a good mama is supposed to.

I didn’t find out the truth until last month, when a brand new doctor flipped through her file, got real quiet, and asked me one simple question.

But let me back up, because I keep getting ahead of myself. It started when Maddie was four. She’d get these little staring spells, where she’d just go blank for a few seconds and not hear me calling her. It scared me half to death. So I took her to a neurologist over at Children’s Medical Center, a fella named Dr. Linden. Soft-spoken man, gray at the temples, the kind who looks you right in the eye when he talks.

He told me my baby had epilepsy. Said the brain test showed it plain as day. I cried right there in his office, mind you, but I’ll be honest with you, part of me felt relief too. At least it had a name now. At least there was a pill that could fix it. He patted my hand and told me not to worry, that lots of kids live perfectly normal lives on the medicine. I walked out of there thinking we were lucky to find such a good doctor.

So we started the Tegretol. Morning and night, every day, no skipping. And blood draws every three months, regular as church. One time the nurse mentioned they were keeping an eye on her liver, and I just nodded like I understood. I never once thought to ask why a little girl’s liver needed watching.

You don’t question doctors. At least I didn’t. I trusted every word that came out of that man’s mouth.

Those four years changed my girl, and not for the better. She was tired all the time, poor thing. Fell asleep at the supper table more than once, fork still in her hand. She put on weight, and the kids at school can be cruel about that. And she had this rash on her arms that just never fully cleared up, no matter what cream the doctor told us to try. I figured all of it was just the epilepsy. Just the price of keeping her safe. “The medicine keeps the seizures away, honey,” I’d tell her every morning. And I believed it with my whole heart.