My head and eyes were twisted to the right and I couldn’t move or speak. Some kids accused me of attention-seeking and, frightened of my seizures, I couldn’t concentrate and my grades slipped. I had something called focal cortical dysplasia, similar to a birthmark on the brain. Then, at last, I was eligible for brain surgery. I’d have to be awake so doctors could keep checking that I could still move that arm while the surgery was in progress.