From a 12 Year Old's Perspective

Life often throws us for a loop. Unexpected things tip us off balance. We reel and try to steady ourselves. This has been a somewhat stressful week for me. I could tell the level of stress when I awoke this morning from an extremely bizarre dream.

In the dream, my husband and mother-in-law were leaving to take my ES to the doctor. Only, I came out into the front room to find my husband still here. I began to rake him over the coals, when he turned and I saw bandages all over his face. He explained that some glass exploded and he couldn't go, so Grandma was taking ES alone. I thought, "No, a parent has to be there. I have to be there. Let me get dressed." (Note, not a hesitation of concern for my bandaged husband!)

Then, I see my mother-in-law walk in and think, "She hasn't left either??? There's no way they'll make it there on time and if they are late, they will have to reschedule and we already waited three weeks to get in with this specialist." (Here's where the dream morphs to truly weird proportions) So, I grab up MS and dash out to grandma's car - a convertible, no-less. I put him in the seat and tell grandma she'll never make it. She begins to pull out and I have to scream out because I haven't fastened him in the car seat yet. Then, I awoke. Okay, that was my stressed out brain's perspective.

You have to hear my son's perspective. My husband and mother-in-law, did indeed take my ES to an appointment with a GI specialist this morning in Indianapolis. The appointment was for 8:30 and they were supposed to arrive 15 minutes early. Although I would have loved to have accompanied him, we decided I would stay home with the little boys. In truth, they arrived FORTY-FIVE minutes early and my husband said by the time he was called, ES was stir-crazy and anxious.

We have been increasingly concerned for our son because ever since the middle of July, he has been experiencing stomach upsets. He is afraid to eat because when he eats, he feels sick. We took him to the regular doctor and began treating it as a lactose intolerance issue. It remained. We requested stool tests to look for parasites. The tests came back normal. It remained. The doctor suggested blood tests to look for celiac disease (and I don't know what else). The blood work came back normal. The doctor referred us to a specialist and we have waited the three weeks for his appointment.

When my son arrived home, the little boys and I were outside waiting for them (the little guys were anxious to see grandma - MS felt slighted because he didn't get Grandma's famous mush this morning; I was anxious to hear about the appointment). Without waiting for my husband to greet me, my 12 year old walked up and said, "They think I have Crohn's Disease."

I did get a chance (at some point, in between MS's clamoring for mush and YS's clingy fear of grandpa) to hear about the appointment from my husband. But, I spent a good part of the afternoon (the middle school had a half day today) listening to my son call his friends with news of his day. Here is a sample of the first call:

"Hey, Dude. Man, you want to hang out today? I had to go to the doctor. It was wicked, dude. He was askin' me all these questions and I was tryin' to tell him the right answers. And, what if I had said something a little different, maybe the guy would have come up with a different answer, right? Anyway, after all the questions, he felt my stomach and then, get this, the guy lubed up his finger and stuck it up my butt, dude. No way, I'm serious. He wanted to see if when he pulled it out there would be blood on it. Nope. Only poop. Poor guy! That's just NAAAASTY!

"Anyway, get this, it gets worse. The doctor thinks I probably have this disease called Crohn's Disease and if you have it you have it for the rest of your life, man. He doesn't know for sure yet, but they have to do more tests on November 7th. Guess what? The day before the tests I have to take 20 pills. I'm not jokin' - 20 pills and they're gonna make me crap all day long. I might as well set up my Rock Band in the bathroom, man. I'll just take a pill, play some music. Spend the whole day, I guess. Then, for the tests, they have to put me to sleep. They're gonna shove a tube down my nose and another one up my butt, dude. NO LIE! Man, that sucks, doesn't it?"

By a little later in the afternoon, he had an addendum to these conversations (and I think he must have called at least five or six different friends to SHARE):

"Aw, dude, you gotta go to You Tube, man, and look up Colonoscopy, dude. That's what I'm gonna have done and it's so gross. Like, if I have Crohn's, they showed a colonoscopy of some guy who has Crohn's and it was all mushy and gross in there. No way. You have to come over so I can show you all these incredible You Tube videos I found about this stuff."

I felt like chiming in, "This is your colon. This is your colon with Crohn's." I did tell him he should be grateful he is only taking 20 pills at half hour intervals. When I had a colonoscopy, I had to drink the huge jug of NAAASTY tastin' stuff and spent all day in the bathroom (he was with his dad at grandma's house). I even told him the funny line my friend had when she picked me up to drive me to and from the procedure. I told her that I woke up and stepped on the scale to learn that I was now 5 pounds lighter. She didn't miss a beat and replied, "I always knew you were full of sh!t."

Now, I don't want you to think that I feel this is a laughing matter. It isn't. I suppose, to a certain extent we are feeling better just knowing that we are closer to answers about his condition. It continued to grow worse over the past months. But, the look on my husband's face, after seeing my ES in the hotel room after they went to Indiana Beach last Saturday, assured me that it was time to be seriously concerned. ES was 105 at the start of wrestling season at the beginning of 2008. He now weighs about 85. My husband said you could see his back bones poking out. He has the look of a concentration camp in-mate. The doctor said that the weight loss, at such an important time of physical development, is the most serious red flag. For now, we need to try to increase his weight (thankfully, he has Fall break from school right now, so it will mean a few more days at home where he is more willing to eat without fear of any reactions).

However, we are still concerned and do covet any prayers which others are willing to offer on his behalf. When the doctor said he is guessing it is Crohn's Disease, my husband asked, "That is a better scenario than cancer though, right?" The doctor replied that we can't rule that out yet.

So, he will undergo these tests which are earning him ultimate peer points and hopefully, we will gain even more concrete answers to our questions. I do have some limited knowledge of Crohn's, since my sister-in-law has the disease and we have had a few friends over the years who battle this.

I'm glad he can still make me smile. Perhaps my dreams will be tamer tonight. I'll probably dream about ES asking to make a You Tube video from his colonoscopy, so he can share his NASTY intestines with all his friends. That will make them feel like eating, too, won't it. Maybe it is just his way of getting his friends to share his pain. I'm sure it is also his way of keeping his sense of humor in the face of adversity. Now, that's a valuable skill. I'm glad he has it!