Every so often I will have some thoughts quietly come to mind, repeatedly, until I blog. I have used this method all throughout this last year or so since opening my blog. Usually, it’s an idea of something to research, and then the work takes on a life of it’s own.
However, this past week, the thought was something very personal. I was led to reflect back to the busiest time of my life.
Our family, like many others, found ourselves in a situation that was quite eye-opening. Our oldest son, became suddenly ill, and like any parent, my husband, and I went to work to find a cure.
At the time, our family doctor was a chiropractor, and she was concerned that he was needing adjustments almost daily. He would kick a soccer ball, and his knee or an ankle joint would move out of place. This hadn’t been the case before, and why was it happening now?
She suggested we visit a Naturopath, who also was well-respected in our new community. We trusted our doctor, and took her recommendation.
The Naturopath was very respectful, and took the time to hear our concerns. Being our first visit to a Naturopath, we were very pleased, and relieved. Especially, since prior to moving my children had gone to the same Osteopath practice since they were babies, and now my son was eleven. We also were fortunate to have children that were rarely ill, and when sick, it only lasted a short time. At this point, it had been a few weeks, and our son was not showing signs of healing.
The Naturopath suggested something new to us, and that was a stool sample through a specialized lab. We went ahead with her advice, and two-three weeks later the comprehensive results arrived. His intestines had a parasite throughout, so she prescribed an all natural garlic-based antibiotic for ten days. I found no negative side effects with this product, and within ten days my son, had a marked improvement.
Unfortunately, during this time he began to have sustained, strong chest pains lasting as long as an hour and a half. The Naturopath, referred us to an emergency pediatrician’s visit. The pediatrician met with us for maybe ten minutes, was condescending to me, and diagnosed the chest pains as growing pains. I was stunned, and unsure what step to take next.
The following Sunday was Mother’s Day, and my son left Sacrament Meeting to use the restroom. He was gone for sometime, when he returned he was pale, and was sitting upright, white knuckling the top to the wooden bench in front of him. This was the longest pain so far, and my mother’s intuition was in full gear.
Upon going home, my husband, and I discussed our concerns. My husband is a volunteer first responder, and didn’t like the symptoms he was witnessing either. We contacted our home teacher, every member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has a home teacher. Each local ward has members assigned to look after one another on an individual basis. To check-in on each other at least once per month. As woman we do the same for one another, but it is called being a visiting teacher. So my husband phoned our home teacher, and asked him to visit with us. Our home teacher, and my husband hold the priesthood in our church and gave a blessing of healing with oil. In the blessing the Spirit guided us as parents to heed the warning of these chest pains, to not stop our search.
Our son was relieved with this, and got choked up, and said that he thought he was going to die that day in the restroom, and nobody would have known.
I felt the Spirit so strong, and was grateful for the permission I needed to move forward despite the advice of the pediatrician. We phoned the local hospital, and I spoke with the head pediatrician nurse. She said with chest pains she suggested we go straight to the children’s floor of a Spokane hospital. We were surprised that we would have to travel so far. This was in another state, and a fair distance. We packed up that day, and thanks to local ward members, our other two daughters were looked after.
Upon attending the E.R. we found that our son had a bowel blockage, and this was causing the chest pains. This was good news to get resolved, and a quick fix within a few days.
We found that there was another root cause, and the issue with difficulty swallowing continued to persist. He had lost 20% of his body wight within a few months. We stayed in Spokane while my son underwent testing to no avail. A lot of money, stress, and the strangest experience with the gastroenterologist there. I wouldn’t have thought, that twilight zone eerie, would be a phrase I would use to describe the care received there. I wish the medical specialists/doctors would have referred us back to a Natural doctor the same way they referred us. After a couple of weeks of living in a hotel room, one of the nurses was thoughtful to suggest the local Ronald McDonald House.
Before going further, I do want to add that I am grateful for God’s hand in our lives. I know he sustained my son’s health, and helped to keep our family afloat being that we were building out a new business in another city.
If I could give any advice to anyone finding themselves in a similar situation, it would be to trust your gut. When you have a child hanging onto life, it’s easy to want to trust your doctor. You want to believe that your child’s health is the most important aspect, especially when going to some of the country’s “finest” doctors, specialists, and hospitals. Unfortunately, that is not the priority of all doctors.
One doctor after another would say that nothing was wrong, but that they knew of another doctor that would probably have a good idea. As any parent with a very ill child knows, every visit is a lot of effort, not to mention the charges for the visit alone averaging between $140. and $750. Sixty doctors later, and fourteen emergency room visits, and nothing to gain. Just this carrot that another doctor would probably know, and we should go there. I can’t tell you how many times my son, and/or I were told, yelled at or insinuated that his illness was in his or my head. I never knew that medical care could be like this, and no matter what we did, it wouldn’t shift.
At times, the thought would come to mind, that we would be able to handle this, but that many families would not, and to do what we could to make easier for others that have to travel this same path. This thought would be sad for me, because with the teamwork between my husband and I, this situation was taking everything we had physically, emotionally, and financially. I knew that had this occurred a couple of years prior that we would not have had a pleasant enough ending. I kept my focus on learning what I could from this scenario, and pass along anything that may be of benefit to another.
In the end, we left this city, and our newly opened business to return to our prior Osteopath practice. The new owner of the practice, reviewed all our records in one sitting, and pointed out that the first specialist, and gastroenterologist we met neglected to tell us that there was 10 inches of inflammation, and cobblestoning, indicative of Crohn’s disease in my son’s intestines. This doctor recognized that my son was sick, believed me when I said my son and I hadn’t slept more that five hours a day in over a year. He put my son on a new diet, and some special supplements, and low and behold within a few days he was asking to play with friends, and help around the house. Within two weeks he was back to school half-days, and within six weeks he won the school spelling bee at the end of the year.
Since we were starting over financially, we moved to Henderson, Nevada with a new job, after school was out.
Within a couple of months after moving, we met with a nurse practitioner, who on the first visit could tell my son was sick. He had improved quite a bit from before, in that he was no longer bed-ridden or at times needing a wheel chair. She noticed he had sores on his head, which she brought in another nurse, who worked with a number of children at the local hospital who had Lupus, and this nurse verified that the sores looked the same.
This lovely, nurse practitioner, took all our records home for the weekend, and phoned me over the weekend. Imagine this, another important diagnosis was missed. Strep throat was diagnosed on an E.R. visit where we were told to receive results the next day at our pediatrician’s office. Well, the following day at the pediatrician’s office, I was told that he didn’t have strep among other things, and I was reprimanded for having him undergo so much blood work. Funny, my inner instincts weren’t telling me I was a bad mom. In fact, returning home from a very late E.R. visit to give my baby a bottle felt more like I was doing all I possibly could for my children at this time.
My son received his antibiotic, and now the spiking fevers were gone, and he could swallow without pain. Hallelulah!! From the day it was first hard to swallow on an on-going basis, had dated fifteen months. Fortunately, when our nurse sent us to have his heart checked, there was no long-term damage. My son wrote her a beautiful letter, in which included, that he would never forget her. He was so grateful to be feeling better. We sent her the biggest flower arrangement that we could.
Being he was still easily winded, and the prolonged sores, after improving from this last issue, she referred him to an immunologist.
He found out on the first visit that my son’s lungs were only functioning at 70%, and he had full on asthma. Now maybe some of my neighbors would understand why I held him back from hikes and lengthy bike rides. My motherly instincts were right all along. It was so good to see my son progressing so well, and getting back to normal. My husband, and I were floored at how simple the issues were, and simple to fix.
Funny, time, and again my son would receive priesthood blessings that would strengthen him, and provide guidance. More than once, and from different individuals, they referenced a simple fix. How about that. I can’t tell you how I clung to those words to get me through. At this point, he went to join a private school that could meet his needs while his body regained it’s strength.
The following summer, he auditioned with his older sister, and performed in High School Musical II at the Tuacahn Theater in Ivins, Utah. Also known as Broadway in the desert. His sister, and him attended their performing arts school that fall. He’s a tapper!
We were so fortunate to wade through this trial, and to have our son heal. Had I followed the advice from a number of doctors, my son would have continued to get worse, and I believe he wouldn’t be with us today. I didn’t dare say it at the time, but in my heart, I would have liked to ask a number of the doctors, to listen to their heart, set the pride aside, and trust in God. That a small child’s life depended on it.
My son, had so much faith all along, and patience with the physicians. His little heart would break when he knew they weren’t helping, and incorrectly judging his situation. He hated to inconvenience anyone. He made some dear friends along the way, that I will discuss in a further tribute to parents at: The Ronald McDonald House.
It struck me, that now, my son gives priesthood blessings to those that are ill or in need of comfort. This is very special to him. He had decided to give two years in service to the Lord, who gave him the first nineteen years of his life.
Until we meet in Paris, my son. We all love, and miss you!!
I do forgive the doctors who acted ignorantly, and I hope that they think twice before putting another family through the same ordeal.
