Dear Diary - Family Stories

The Day The Test Results Came

I’ll never forget the day my son was diagnosed with Lyme disease. I got the test results but misread them and thought he did not have Lyme. A wave of relief washed over me. I could see his future and it was bright. And then I re-read it. I don’t even know why I did, but I did. Apparently, in my initial rush to read the results I skimmed over the important part of the test. He, indeed, did test for Lyme disease. The doctor, using the test, and his symptoms, and the fact that I was pregnant with Lyme, and untreated for it, diagnosed him with Lyme disease.

I crashed to the floor and began weeping. For my worst fear had just been realized. My son was suffering with the same disease as me. And I had been the one to give it to him. The sadness that seeped through my heart was more real than any other sadness. And I’ve been rocked with a very sad, life chattering event in my life. But this is my son. He is my baby boy. And I knew what a diagnosis meant. It meant more pain, more fatigue, more hurt before he could get to a place of functionality. And while I didn’t fully know it then, it also meant that if not a supernatural healing from God, he would most likely never be completely free from the disease.

As a parent you never want to see your child suffer. You want only the best for him. You want them to be free from sickness and disease, from heartache and pain. But something I’ve learned already is you can’t possibly shield your child from it all. Maybe you can keep some of it from making its way to them, but certainly not all.

We struggled a lot in those early years. I was so very sick and trying to take care of two healthy kids and one sick kid. It was so hard. I don’t even know how we made it through, but we did. My baby boy suffered greatly with Lyme rage, crying spells, pain, fatigue, and likely even more than those symptoms. He was so young he couldn’t possibly be able to tell me everything going on.

Eight years later, he’s still sick. But, he is functional. The rage went away. The crying spells went away. Banging his head on the wall went away. The extreme fatigue went away. He has some fatigue and some pain and learning difficulties still but he is functional. A place I wasn’t sure he would get to.

I do worry for his future. I wonder, will he be able to hold down a full time career? Will he be able to live a healthy person’s life? Will he always be on some form of treatment? Will his body break down over time and it be harder to live a healthy life, since his body has been under constant attack since he was in my womb.

But all I can do is pray that God will heal his body, and help him live his very best life. And continue raising my voice to bring about awareness and change for our community, which is suffering so.

I followed my heart. My heart said, your son is sick. I pushed for answers. And when I got them, I was devastated, and cried hard, but then moved on and said to myself, “let’s do this! we can do this.” And do this we have done. Every single day for 6 years he’s been on medication for Lyme. Antibiotics in the beginning, herbs now.

He may likely have to remain on herbs for the remainder of his life to keep the infection mostly under control. But God is still the healer and I still hold onto a sliver of hope that my son will walk free from this disease in my lifetime. Either supernaturally, or with a cure.