The Lord will provide... good meds

Abraham's aborted sacrifice of Issac in Genesis 22 resonates with the part of me who is the parent of an autistic child. In moments of desperation, rage or despair over my son's inability to be at peace with himself, his loved ones and his surroundings, it seems as if God has given me this child only in order to will his destruction before my very eyes. But the story, though terrifying, ends happily. Issac is not burned on the altar. God provides. This--and the right pharmaceutical cocktail--gives me hope.

It's been a hellish few months. Our son has taken depakote for several years because of an abnormal EEG. Tests late last year were normal, so his neurologist began to wean him off the depakote. Trouble is, depakote not only prevents seizures, it's a mood stabilizer, which our son desperately needs. Without it he became a holy terror.

We learned our lesson. Back on the depakote. But then, he became incapable of keeping down his anti-depressant. So he was throwing up everything. Without reliable levels of medicine in his system, he was completely unmanageable. We packed a little bag in case we had to hospitalize him--quickly. He's almost 13, and as tall as I am. I can't pick him up and tote him off to his room like I did a few years ago whenever he fell apart.

Then his doctor prescribed a new anti-depressant, which, praise God, didn't induce nausea. And he changed--overnight. He's able to sit still and think. He's able to roll with the little surprises most of us barely notice but can rock the world of an autistic person. 

It's very hard being his father, but I remain incapable of wishing he weren't autistic, because then he wouldn't be the son I know and love. I do believe that "all things work together for good," and the good that has come from all this is a gratitude for things I surely would have taken for granted had our lives unfolded differently. Really simple things--like being able to go out in the back yard and pull weeds, and leave the boys alone, inside together.

His meds will get out whack again because he's still growing. It's worrisome. He's so big, the potential for danger is much greater now that when he was six or seven. Our problem has always been that fable about the boiling frog. Our situation gradually deteriorates until it's almost too late to fix. But the last three weeks of peace and quiet, and reading Genesis 22 this morning and realizing that it doesn't end in tragedy, dares me to be hope that our stories won't either.

Comments

[Paula Skreslet]

Marvin, such a powerful comment ... it must be very difficult to write about this. You have not been on my daily prayer list before, but you will be from now on.

[Jonathan Marlowe]

Thanks for sharing this Marvin. I find these kinds of personal stories mingled with theological reflections to be very compelling.