Good News Is The Best Medicine

The following sentence ironic because it is both sad and hopeful: My son is sick enough for surgery! On March 20, they are going in to take out the infected and painful part of his intestines, freeing up his digestive tract to nourish him and process his food without hurting. This will be done by laser so, thankfully, there will be no incision.

If anyone reads my blog regularly, they already know my son has Crohn’s disease. Last week, he had an IV treatment of Remicade and is scheduled for another next week. None of that awful Humira, and those stupid “at home” shots.  Remicade should help reduced the inflammation in his intestines, and his joints. He has a moderate case of arthritis, which often appears in Crohn’s patients. The biggest and best news, though, is that he will have this surgery. No one knows how long his relief will last… some people have complete remission, but in others, the disease returns. But some hope is better than none. I’ll take whatever odds they’ll give him.

It is remarkable the way my son has handled his disease. Not only is he very educated on the subject, he never complains. Of all the things in life that upset him, he doesn’t even mention being sick. I’m used to it is all he says. How do you get used to being in pain? Maybe that depends on the person. To have such physical difficulties, he is pretty zen about it all. Especially for a teenager. He talks to friends on the computer, reads some pretty intellectual books, and records his own music. Even though he can only play his guitar or bass 10 minutes at a time because of joint pain, he has become an excellent musician. He approaches all his limitations with a positive spirit, something I myself might not be capable of doing. He is my hero.

On the other hand, I worry enough for us both. I worry about things that may never even happen. I question medicine and God. I wonder what else I can do. There is never a moment when I am not acutely aware that my son is either in pain, or will be in pain. That he is sick. That there is no cure. But I am comforted by the fact that there is always tomorrow, and with it, possibility of improvement.

I also have a feeling of gratitude, knowing that one in seven Americans have no health insurance. That disturbs me profoundly… if this were to happen to one of them or their children, they would be financially devastated… even if they were wealthy. It would just take a few more months. My husband and I have put having health insurance first for so long that it comes into play on every decision we make. In a country as great as ours, it shouldn’t be that way. But I’m not going to repeat myself — I have already beaten that horse in previous posts http://ocdiva.wordpress.com/2007/11/14/crossing-that-other-border/ and http://ocdiva.wordpress.com/2008/01/13/what-would-you-do-for-free-health-care/.)

Right now, all I can do is hope that whoever takes over this country can improve the health care crisis in this country and take care of my son. It has been a long struggle, and at times I stumbled blindly through the motions, wondering if anything would ever change. But now that we have a date for surgery, there is a flicker of light to guide me forward.