Well, here it is: the possible syndrome roller-coaster. It's the exciting, heart-pounding, emotional ride in which you get to worry incessantly about your kid while doctors hunt for answers, and then after a fever pitch of panic, you get the 1000 foot drop straight down when all the tests come back "negative."
What's causing your child's illness? It could be this or that or this other really awful thing. But don't worry. We'll run all these tests which will give us answers. Just be patient.
Huh, that's odd. All the tests came back negative. Gee, I really thought it was going to be this really awful thing. She has all the signs, but the tests are negative. Hmmm... you know... it could be this other really awful thing. We should run some tests.
We've been riding this coaster for fifteen years. We find some balance for a while, until either Queen Teen shows some new sign of a degenerative disorder, or a doctor says she "might" have this thing, and there's a new test he'd like to run. And so we climb back onto the roller-coaster, strap in, and hope for answers.
We still don't have any answers. After years of hunting, we had made peace with that. Not knowing meant the future was still wide open. She could plateau, learn skills, gain strength, and eventually have a life of her own. Maybe she could live with a friend in an apartment with support and find a job she enjoys. She could fall in love. Not knowing what would happen meant we could pretend that everything would be fine for a while longer.
But now, we need to know.
We knew her condition was degenerative, but without a real diagnosis it's impossible to predict what degenerative would look like. I figured it meant she would eventually be unable to walk or her hand tremors would get worse. We could manage those. But not be able to eat? How do you deal with that?
It's hard not to think the worst. This is my child, and I feel fucking helpless just watching her suffer while waiting for the phone to ring. No matter how busy I try to stay, or how much I practice mindfulness and "stay in the moment," the fear crawls up my spine like a hungry tarantula. This roller-coaster is a bitch.
I don't know what will happen now. Maybe her eating problem will disappear on its own. She could wake up tomorrow hungry and eat a scrambled eggs without any problem. The MRI might not show anything at all. This could be just a weird thing that will go away in a few weeks. It's happened before; her hand tremors were terrible for a while and just as suddenly, the tremors improved. Why? They still don't know.
But whatever happens next, this is a reminder of just how fragile Queen Teen really is.
Strap yourselves in kiddies, it could be a long, bumpy ride.