Sheila Sims Iding
Today a miracle happened. Today I took Tim to University of Michigan Cystic Fibrosis Clinic for his check up. He goes every year…twice a year. It’s not optional. Not even if you live in China. Not even if you are “healthy”. CF clinic is twice a year…unless you need it more. God forbid.
Today I took Tim like I have for almost 30 years. Oh…he can drive there on his own. He doesn’t need me to go. I just sit in the waiting room and do school work. I don’t have any input or list of questions anymore. I just go along for the ride…and the visit…and the support…and to steal a conversation as we come and go. Today we went to CF clinic and we have learned over the years some days you get bad news…some days you get good news. Today we got a miracle. And I don't mean the miracle of that parking spot on the first floor (1st time ever) or the miracle of arriving early and getting in early or the miracle of an appointment that took under an hour. If you have ever been to some big medical facility you understand that those situations do qualify for miracle status. But today we received a real miracle. How many days in your lifetime do you get to say that? I will say it again because it sounds soooo good. Today...a miracle!
There was a day that I sat across the desk from a doctor who told me my son had CF. He told me his life expectancy would only be 15. There was a day a doctor told me “your son was born with CF and he will die from it”. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day we would travel to CF clinic 4 times a year. Every 3 months I took two little boys with diseased bodies for a check up. For a hope. For a disease so brutal it was monitored 4 times a year. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when they took so many enzyme pills just to eat, that they couldn’t eat because taking the pills and the milk made them full. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when x-rays weren’t clear and we were told some of the damage was irreparable. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when Tim’s weight was watched so closely he was given a short time frame to gain a few pounds or there would be a hospitalization. There was a day on the way home from CF Clinic that we would stop at McDonald’s for all the chicken nuggets his thin, little body could eat and fries and a milkshake to shake off the threat of the hospital. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when the weight recovered (slightly) but the lungs could not and there were 4 treatments a day and family and friends helping pound his chest so much we actually cracked one of his ribs...desperately trying to keep him from the hospital. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when the infections were so bad that four treatments a day and all that medicine and all those chicken nuggets couldn’t help and there were hospitalizations for lung infections and then IV meds at home and a long recovery only to go back in the hospital the next month. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when a scared little CF patient asked “Will I ever have to go back in the hospital?” In my promise to always be honest about their disease, I had to say “yes”. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when a sick, little CF boy asked me “Is this the time I am going to die?” (To hell with the honesty promise…I lied. I told him he didn’t have the kind of CF you die from.) But that wasn’t today.
There was a day we went to CF clinic worried about the weight and the lungs and the pancreas and the chest x-ray and the blood work. But that wasn’t today.
There was a day when I would leave that U of M parking ramp with tears in my eyes and fear in my mind and prayers in my heart….ALL the way home. But that wasn’t today. The tears and prayers were different today.
Today Tim went to CF clinic just like we have for almost 30 years. Same parking lot. Same blue hospital card with the big M. Same registration number. Same hope of a good checkup. Same fear of something being wrong. Same routine of breathing tests, seeing the doctor, seeing the nutritionist, getting prescriptions and spending 3 hours at clinic. But that wasn’t today.
The blue card and the breathing treatments and the doctor check up were all the same. But then the miracle happened. Tim walked out of the exam room in under an hour. But he didn’t walk out with prescriptions for his breathing treatments or his enzymes. He walked out with a miracle.
I’m not sure exactly how the doctor explained it to Tim but it seems the new DNA studies show that since there are so many mutations for CF gene that it takes on different forms. The type that Tim and Joey have can be almost dormant or almost in remission and not affect them physically. It doesn’t make them sick…for now. But it doesn’t make them disease-free either. There is still some lung damage and still some issues with the pancreas. Still the chance it could rear it's ugly head. But…for now…CF is quiet in their bodies. They still need check ups twice a year...it's still not optional. Especially without treatments. But for now they don’t need breathing treatments because their lung function tests are higher than normal (running is great medicine). They don’t need enzymes because they can keep the weight on themselves. No breathing treatments. No Enzymes. No infections. Dare I say...No CF. For now.
As unsure as I am of the doctor’s explanation I am unsure how any of this came to be. They kept getting worse until Tim started running cross country and Joey started soccer year round. The disease progressed like it does but then they started getting better. Maybe it was all the running. Maybe it was the great care they receive at U of M. Maybe it was St. Raphael sitting with them and the doctors. Maybe it was the prayers I whispered to Mary from those hospital rooms. Maybe it was the love and support of so MANY people for so many years. Maybe it was all of the above. Maybe...it was a miracle.
There was a day when there was a diagnosis and prognosis that shook a mother to the core of her broken heart. There was a day I kept vigil by a hospital bed too afraid to think about the future. There was a day I left CF clinic with too many prescriptions and too many fears. But that wasn’t today. Today there was hope and prayers of gratitude and a celebratory lunch that didn’t include chicken McNuggets. Today…A Miracle!
Below is the miracle! Thank you, Timothy! Thank you, St. Raphael. Thank you, God.