Lyme Be Gone: November 2012

Winter has drifted into town but despite shorter days and an early dusting of snow, a few golden leaves cling tenaciously to the branches outside the window; a memorial to our prolonged summer.

As many of you know Christine and Riley have been away for over a month now, attending a medical clinic in Wichita, Kansas. Having heard a number of encouraging reports about the Hansa Centre and its’ treatment philosophy from other Lyme-sufferers, and after consultation with Riley’s medical team, they left Calgary with a mixed bag of trepidation and cautious optimism...no Yellow Brick Road to follow and no promise of a wish-granting wizard. Fortunately, unlike the fraudulent “puppet king” of OZ, the Kansas clinic and its’ staff have more than lived up to their reputation.

Remarkably, within a few days of commencing treatment, Riley reported a reduction in pain and a loosening of his facial paralysis. Under the sage-like care of the doctors and staff, he began speaking in short sentences using a “normal” voice instead of the whisper he had resorted to for two years! Riley also stood up and began walking for the first time without support! To put this in perspective, when they arrived in Kansas, he had been entirely wheelchair bound except for one short, heavily assisted, shuffle to the shower each day.

Initially it was difficult to trust these changes...anticipating a regression or worsening of symptoms. If we allowed ourselves to believe Riley was actually improving...what then? Could we afford this kind of vulnerability? Imagine for a moment you are in a killing drought and as a daily ritual you hike to a faraway well hoping for water...you select a stone, say a fervent prayer and drop the stone into the inky black depths, you hold your breath and wait for what feels like an eternity, only to hear the empty clatter of the stone as it hits rock bottom. You repeat this ritual unsuccessfully for years…until one day you drop another stone half-heartedly into the well and as you turn in haste to leave you hear what sounds like a splash; shock and disbelief follow. Cautiously you try again and there it is…a splosh, a splash…a miracle…and then the tears come! Faith, however, is the belief that the water will still be there tomorrow.

The water in the well continues to flow, To our great amazement, Riley continues to progress. The chest, bone, and joint pain that plagued him continuously for three years is now gone! When they arrived at the clinic on October 11th, Riley listed over 40 symptoms in varying degrees of intensity. 18 of those symptoms are gone, and many of the others are decreasing.He is speaking conversationally, and the decrease in his facial paralysis has allowed him to begin chewing morsels of soft food again, and even manage a slight smile at times.

The toxicity in Riley’s brain has been reduced...”my brain feels like it is starting to wake up and the synapses are firing again”. In addition, on October 31st, Riley phoned to wish us a “Happy Halloween” and then in an excited voice told me that he had been walking with a straight back and swinging his arms without any assistance! Shortly after this Christine sent a video of Riley walking slowly but purposefully down the halls of the clinic; breathless and with tears streaming down my face, I hit the replay button over and over again…”my son…my beautiful son…walking again…so tall…thank you God…he’s coming back!”

It’s difficult to describe the elation I felt watching the video of Riley navigating the halls of the clinic on his own two feet. I have not been that captivated watching someone walk since the age of seven when I witnessed the grainy, black and white images of Neil Armstrong leaving the Lunar Module and stepping onto the moon for the first time; “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”. This moonscape now pales in comparison to the sight of my 19 year old, bed-ridden son, moving through his world without a wheelchair or a walker!

These are the days of miracle and wonder

This is the long distance call

The way the camera follows (Riley) in slo-mo...

And don’t cry baby don’t cry

Don’t cry...

(Excerpt from Boy in the Bubble by Paul Simon)

Riley on his 19th birthday- a very joyful day in Kansas!

Riley visiting with his cousin Krystal

The road to restored health for Riley still appears long and daunting at times, but we are joyfully celebrating every recovery milestone. The brilliance of Dr. Jernigan, and the compassionate care of the staff at the Hansa Centre have added fuel to Riley’s determination to return to full health. Days at the clinic are full and tiring for Christine and Riley, but also rich and rewarding. Without the prayers, kind thoughts, and financial support we’ve received, however, none of this would be possible. So it seems only fitting to leave you with these words from Riley:

“Hello everyone... just wanted to say thank you so much for all of your thoughts and
prayers and good wishes. I miss you all so much and I’ve been thinking and praying
for all of you every day. Thank you so much and love you all!”

With thankful hearts,

Terry, Christine, Riley and Evan

Happy times with our Riley....pre-Lyme!!

Dreaming of a time when he can take hold of life again and soar!!