Today is my youngest son’s 29th birthday. I called and texted to send my love and birthday wishes, but, I have heard nothing. 

The last birthday in his twenties and he is unable to get out of bed. He is sick, suffering from an autoimmune disease and various other diseases and inflammations in his body.   He struggles to just function everyday.  The medications he takes have as many negative effects as the disease and then there is the pain. The pain that is relieved with opioids and the battles he fights because the war on opioids is a battle for those who truly need them. 

It hurts. It causes heartaches to see him suffer, struggle and battle for life. Suffer in pain. Struggle with decisions.  Battle the health industry to get compassionate care and care that understands he has seen the hard side of this illness, the downside of bad decisions and a medical team without preconceived ideas of what is the “real problem.”

What is the real problem? There is a disease with no cure. A disease that no matter how many disposable body parts you remove there still others that are affected.  Still inflammation in your body.  Still no answers how these manifestations are related or connected. It is a disease that has stolen most of his 20’s.  A time you are a young and unstoppable, a time when every door is an opportunity. 

So here it is the 29th anniversary of one of the happiest days of my life. The birth of a child that I worked for, longed for, prayed for and had so many hopes for… hopes for a happy life and a future. Today is his 29th birthday and he can’t get out of bed to celebrate or to feel the love.