A Camp For My Grey Area Daughter

Lipstick and Playdates

For years I made light of Savannah’s condition by telling her the angels gave her a medical alert bracelet so they would always know where to find her. It would satisfy her little girl curiosity and she would go back to coloring or watching cartoons. Now, confused by a father’s ignorant comment that “you’re missing a piece in your head” she will press back with “No, seriously, tell me!” And, for once, the mom who makes her living as a spin doctor for big pharma, who has never been hesitant to take on a Wall Street Journal or New York Times reporter for writing negatively about one of her clients, is lost for words.

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