I'll ask for your forgiveness in advance, because I don't think I can organize my thoughts very well for this post yet. I am anxious to share with you, though, so I'm going to try.
Two and a half years ago our life was completely changed when our active, healthy, energetic son began experiencing a racing heart beat, wide fluctuations in blood pressure, dizziness, nausea, headaches, extreme pain, and debilitating fatigue.
Most of you knew us then and witnessed the 180 degree turn our lives took, from ball games and Scouts and church activities to doctors and tests and hospitals and fear. Our kitchen counter was cluttered with prescription medicines, our vocabulary changed to words like beta-blocker and Holter monitor, CT and EKG and ANA and all kinds of other acronyms, and we began an around-the-clock record-keeping of symptoms and activity and pain levels. We went to the ER half a dozen times, had appts with cardiologists, neurologists, electrophysiologists, participated in research studies, and read articles and met people in similar situations.
We prayed when one doctor told us cases like Nick's weren't why he became a cardiologist and there was nothing else he could do.
We prayed when test after test gave us a partial answer, but not the complete diagnosis we were seeking.
We prayed when Nick lost 20 lbs and several friends because he couldn't leave the house.
We prayed when he began having difficulty focusing and carrying on conversations.
We prayed when the experimental drugs didn't give us the results we were hoping for.
We prayed when a diagnosis was made and the prognosis was for a years-long and slim-chanced recovery.
We prayed when Nick couldn't sleep because his heart hurt too much.We prayed when we decided to cold-call the doctor who ultimately brought us out of this mess, and we thanked God when he answered his own phone and gave us half an hour of his undivided attention.
We prayed about whether the month-long inpatient treatment was the path we should take.
And many of you prayed. You told us so in cards and emails and hugs. We couldn't give up hope, and neither could you.
Things gradually began to get better. Not overnight, not with a magical pill or procedure. But little by little Nick began to get his life back. He needed less medicine, we postponed, then cancelled his hospital stay, he could concentrate on schoolwork again...
This week the boys and I made a trip up to Maryland for Nick's two-year check up with Dr Rowe. It was the same visit that we've had many times in the last two years. LOTS AND LOTS of questionnaires to fill out and then tests and measurements and analysis. An entire afternoon of examination. Two years ago, Nick's health score was 30/100. Dr. Rowe remarked that Nick was one of his sickest patients but had one of the best attitudes he'd ever seen.
This week Nick's health score was 97.
97/100.
97.
Like a normal person.
Dr. Rowe, who has been a knowledgeable, compassionate, and intuitive doctor for Nick and a therapist for his fearful parents, pronounced Nick "GRADUATED, WITH HONORS." He left us with instructions to keep in touch with him (and send him a picture when Nick goes sky-diving--ha!), but we don't need to schedule any more appointments because Nick is well. He can manage on his own what lingering issues he has and his future is bright.
We then had an appointment with Nick's physical therapist, Robert, who is an expert in management of Nick's kind of syndromes. Robert saw Nick twice a week for over a year. Robert can take one look at Nick when he walks in the door and know just what is bothering him, when even his mother's watchful eye misses it. He had inside jokes with Joshua, ACC basketball discussions with Nick, and funny stories to tell all while manipulating Nick's body in order to release areas of dysfunction and allow his heart and nervous system to work with ease. Robert did another thorough examination of Nick and at the end he patted Nick on the back, told him he had missed seeing him, and then said,
"Go, live your life."
He doesn't need to see Robert again. He doesn't need to see Dr. Rowe again. He can sleep well; he doesn't take medication; he's gained back his 20 lbs and then some. He goes running and to the gym; he got a job; he's looking at colleges. He made Eagle Scout. All things that were put on hold.
He learned how to play the piano while he was home-bound. He is a voracious reader. His heart now has an empathy for others in difficult situations. He feels called to be a missionary.
We cannot adequately express how grateful we are to Dr. Rowe and Robert for taking such a personal and compassionate interest in his health. They were both aggressive, yet tender, and always mindful of Nick as a person and not just a clinical case. They became personal friends of our family and we will be forever thankful to them.
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| The phenominal Dr. Peter Rowe |
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| Remarkable Robert Dowd, PT |
Nick's health is a miracle. Every day we look at him we are reminded that God is present. He hears us, and He loves us. The best way we can thank Him is to live our lives in a way that pleases Him. To seek Him out in good times as often as bad. To look for His purposes in each situation and not just rush through to the end. To tell others.
Thank you to each one of you who has lifted our family in prayer over these last few years. Your caring and compassion sustained us and we are so glad to be able to rejoice with you in the answering of those many prayers.
Psalm 139:13-16
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
