The Lesson of Her Death

faking.…” Diane realized she just had. “Well, she picks up some things so fast that when she acts stupid, it rings false.”
    “What’s easy for her?”
    “Remembering movies and stories we’ve read to her. And the characters in them. She can act out scenes perfectly. She can remember dialogue. Oh and guessing the endings of movies. Dressing up in costumes. She loves costumes. But it’s all things like that—pretend things. Anything having to do with real life—school, cooking,gym, bike riding, games, sports, sewing … All that seems beyond her.” Diane looked away from the doctor’s eyes. “The other day she wet her pants in front of the class.”
    Dr. Parker’s mouth tightened and she shook her head. Diane watched her record in a tiny, cold notation a fact that would probably dog her daughter for the rest of her life. Diane took a Kleenex and pretended to blow her nose then twined the paper between her strong fingers and slowly shredded it into confetti.
    More questions. This was hard. Diane tried, oh she did, but her way was to keep family flaws hidden like her mother’s jewelry—anything real, anything diamond, anything gold was to be trotted out only on rare, vital occasions. It took all her strength to give this sleek, chic-suited stranger these facts—about Bill, about Jamie, about the grandparents, about Sarah’s shyness and her wily manipulation. Dr. Parker glanced at her watch.
Is she bored?
    The doctor asked, “When you were pregnant did you drink or take any kind of medication?”
    “I didn’t drink, no. Occasionally I took a Tylenol. But only a couple of times. I knew it wasn’t good.”
    “How is your relationship with your husband?”
    “Excellent. Good.”
    “Do you quarrel openly? Have you ever talked about divorce?”
    “No. Never.”
    “Do either of you drink now or take drugs?”
    “We drink socially is all,” an offended Diane said. “We never do drugs. We go to church.”
    There was a pause while the doctor’s hand sped along the page. Diane said, “So we were thinking that if somebody like you, a doctor, told her she should cut out this nonsense and get down to work, well, then …” Her voice tapered off.
    The doctor chewed her thin lower lip, lifting off a fleck of lipstick. The expensive pen got capped. The teeth released the lip and the doctor leaned back in herleather chair. “I’ve worked with learning disabled children before—”
    “But she’s not disabled,” Diane said quickly. “I told you, her IQ—”
    Dr. Parker said, “A learning disability isn’t a function of IQ. It’s—”
    “Doctor,” Diane explained patiently, “Sarah is a smart, shy little girl. She’s learned a …” Diane remembered a phrase from the
Hidden Child
book. “… pattern of behavior to get attention from my husband and me and her teachers. We’ve played into her hand. Now we need an expert like you to tell her to buckle down and get to work. She’s gotten away with too much from us. She’ll listen to you. That’s why I’m here.”
    Dr. Parker waited a moment then spoke. “I want to say something to you and you can think about it and talk it over with your husband. First, I should tell you—based on what you’ve told me—I’m not sure your daughter suffers from attention deficit disorder. Some psychiatrists feel that ADD is a condition different from hyperactivity. From my own research I think they’re intertwined. If I understand correctly, Sarah doesn’t show general overactivity—what we call hyperkinetic behavior. Her restlessness may be secondary; she has other problems and they in turn make her jittery and anxious. Ritalin is a temporary measure at best.”
    “But Dr. Sloving said it would help her to learn now and that she’d retain what she did learn.”
    “I understand and there’s something to be said for that. But with all respect to your internist, I feel doctors are prescribing Ritalin a little too quickly. Many parents prefer a diagnosis of ADD because they’d rather see a physical than a psychological explanation for their children’s troubles.”
    “Sarah is not crazy,” Diane said icily.
    “Absolutely not,” the doctor said emphatically. “A developmental disability is a common and treatable problem. In our days it translated as stupid or lazy orrecalcitrant. Professionals don’t think of it that way anymore. But a lot of people do.”
    Diane felt the sting of criticism coming from the doctor’s placid face. She said