A New Perspective

It has been 5 months since Tryp's diagnoses and he has a new selection of shoes that come with enough room for him to rub his toes together.

It all turned towards the sun when we met the specialist at Cincinnati Children's Hospital. She was wonderful, so wonderful that she changed our lives. We talked to her and voiced our concerns and she was able to give a new perspective on what we were looking at through, what felt like, a very dark room. She was the optimist when we told her that we did not want to treat him with medication. She was the optimist when we told her that we wanted to do things the right way and address the issue and not mask it. She suggested an organization called Fernside. It is grief counseling for families, it eases his anxieties about death and it is working wonders. Since my last post we have managed to ween Tryp off of meds and he is finally back to the boy I remember, only now he has some added bonuses. He is still developing new tics and shedding old ones on a regular basis but he is healthy.

I was reading back through some old posts and came across one line that really caused me to acknowledge the person I was just a few short months ago. I said "He has heard us use the term "Tic" but I know in his mind, he pictures the bug but he knows nothing of Tourette Syndrome and I shall keep it that way as to not hand him a crutch. With great hope and fingers crossed, this too shall pass."

Hindsight can make the old you look really ignorant. Since I said that I learned ways of explaining Tourette Syndrome to Tryp, to myself and our family. I have learned how it works and I have learned that it is not something you get to explain once. New tics happen and new explanations have to be explored. Questions from a 7 yr old are much harder to answer than those of a 6 yr old. I am learning and educating every single day. TS is not a crutch at all... it is simply a shove in a new direction.

Also, I can keep my fingers crossed until they are blue and "this" is not going to pass. This is life and it doesn't change anything but it does change everything. Having a child diagnosed with any sort of life altering issue throws the heart through the same 5 steps as grieving. I sat in denial for a long time, I played with anger for a minute, I was bargaining away all of the nothingness that I had to offer and depression caused many sleepless, tear filled nights. Only recently did I have an epiphany, the only way to truly be happy for my son and to help him be truly happy with himself is to accept this hurdle and jump it 500 times a day if I have to, the race is much more fun if he is with me though. So that brings me to acceptance. Here I am, good to be here. I brought Tryp with me and we were setting out on an endeavour that feels much bigger than us. Our first stop, organizing a Party in the Park for Tourette Syndrome. Wish us luck!

Through Loss Comes Peace

October 25, 2012

Honorable Judge McGee,

The actions of Mr. Harris and Mr. Jamison have affected my son in a way that is almost impossible to put into words. Sawyer Webb was the wonderful and loving cousin of my six year old son, Tryp. He was so incredibly sweet, caring, family oriented and so funny.

When I heard the awful news I had to gather myself enough to gently tell Tryp what had happened to his cousin. Devastated does not even begin to describe how Tryp felt. We talked for hours that evening, I answered all of his questions as best as I could but there was one question that I could not answer… “Why would those bad guys shoot Sawyer? He’s a good guy.”

From the minute I had to break the terrible news to him he began showing signs of anxiety. He began asking every night at bedtime if the bad guys were caught yet, if they were close to our house and if we were safe. He would have night terrors, screaming at the top of his lungs, trembling and crying. No matter what we said or did to try to help Tryp, he was struggling with simple day to day tasks because he had become so consumed with Sawyer’s death.

He got a pet turtle and named him Sawyer the Turtle. He was gifted one of Sawyer’s stuffed animals, he wouldn’t let it out of his sight. These things helped and seemed to calm him. They helped him to feel like Sawyer was still here in a way.

One evening Tryp went into his room, sat in the middle of his bedroom floor and just started sobbing. His sister tried to console him but he wouldn’t talk, he just cried. When he finally began talking he said “I don’t want anyone else to die and I’m afraid of Mom dying.” The amount of empathy a mother can have for her hurting child could stop this spinning world on its axis. That very evening I e-mailed the best child psychologist in our area, Dr. Jean Deters, to schedule an appointment. It was obvious that Tryp was not  “coping” with the murder of Sawyer.  

Dr. Deters did a wonderful job of getting Tryp to open up about what he was feeling. She helped him to make a poster board of Distractions to hang in his room. He still has this poster on his wall and uses it fairly often. When he starts “getting sad” when thinking of Sawyer he can look at his poster board and pick a distraction. One of his distractions is playing his guitar, he now plays “to be as good as Sawyer” and that makes us both smile a little. After much evaluating and unloading his worries, Dr. Deters was able to tell us that Tryp is suffering from anxiety and depression. Soon thereafter Tryp was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome and ADHD.

Though there is no clear cause of Tourette’s Syndrome we do know that “In most children, Tourette's syndrome has a fluctuating course. Anxiety, stress and fatigue often intensify tics.” -MOHAMMED M. BAGHERI, M.D., JACOB KERBESHIAN, M.D., and LARRY BURD, PH.D., University of North Dakota School of Medicine and Health Sciences, Grand Forks, North Dakota

After many, many doctor’s appointments and different medications, we hope to take a deep, calming breath on December 20^th of 2012 when Tryp will be seen by the Tourette Specialist at Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati Oh.

Mr. Harris and Mr. Jamison could never understand the magnitude of the Butterfly Effect they have caused, how they have brought affliction to so many peaceful people. I know that my son is dealing with the anxiety they have caused him, they have single-handedly corrupted my son’s innocence, his ability to trust and have escalated his condition. I can’t even imagine the number of sleepless nights that Sawyer’s mother has struggled through because I know that Tryp has had a years-worth of them. 

One thing that we know for sure is that the horrible crime committed against Sawyer and his family has caused an immense amount of pain and anguish for everyone who was lucky enough to love Sawyer for the short time he was here. My six year old son will continue to suffer from the loss of his cousin and will forever have a Sawyer sized hole in his heart. It is my job, as his mother, to fill that missing piece with the wonderful memories of Sawyer, to help him flip through pictures of himself with Sawyer and learn how to smile at those pictures.

I hope that these men are held accountable, for the rest of their lives, for their actions as well as the extent of them.

Thank you very much for your time,

Megan L. Gorman

He Is Not Alone #2

    I've kept my fingers crossed but after a month we find ourselves back at square one only with a new prescription. We had our follow-up appointment and told the doctor that the meds are working for his ADHD but not for his Tics. The problem with that? We don't care if he is energetic, he's 6 and hyper is perfect. The problem we have is that the medicine isn't fixing the problem. It's only making him extremely tired, to the point that he is asking to sit down at school. Now, if you've ever met him before the medication and hear me speak of him being "calm" then you're probably like "HOORAY" but I'm not, I hate it and I just want him back to the way he was. Tonight at dinner he said "We were standing on the rug and I asked to sit down because I didn't feel well, I am so tired." 

It is incredibly frustrating to keep hearing "Let's just wait and see what this medicine does..." because in the mean time I am trying to keep a firm grip on this emotional roller coaster so he doesn't have to ride it alone. If this keeps up he's going to have to scoot over and make room in that seat for me. 

So onto prescription #2, granted we are only a few days in, Tryp is still blinking uncontrollably, clearing his throat, shaking his hands, having tremors and today he actually started crying because he hates rubbing his toes together but he can't stop. I am going to give this new medicine a chance, not a very big one but a chance before I take him to Children's to have him evaluated and treated properly. 

He is my son, not your guinea pig and it is hard to remain optimistic when you feel like everything is wrong.

He Is Not Alone

  When that perfectly healthy baby boy was laid upon my chest in the first seconds of his life, I didn't think about what his favorite sport would be or which vegetable he'd despise, I only gazed at his beautiful face before counting his fingers and toes. There is no better teacher than life itself and the way the simple life of a seven year old can somehow turn into a struggle for normality. Being much more fortunate than others and only having a mole hill to climb, still I find myself overwhelmed with the amount of empathy a mother can have for her son. Everyday he struggles to keep his hands calm, his mouth quiet, his eyes focused and his head at peace.

  Over a year ago he was tested for allergies because of his constant clearing of the throat and grimacing. It was confirmed that he has a high mold allergy so in a mother's mind, that must be the problem. With treatment and lots of air purifying plants, the symptoms subsided. Two months later they can back only this time they had partnered up with the nervous habit of tensing his neck muscles and pulling his chin down. A few months later started the hand shaking, not like a real hand shake but more like someone would do when their hands are wet. Not long after that came the hand tremors. All of these things seem to bother me sufficiently more than they bother him, not because they are of annoyance but because I realized that these are uncontrollable for him. His body literally has a mind of it's own and it's unfortunate because the mind he has is perfectly fine. Giving your child a pill to be more normal is a tough pill to swallow but he does it and doesn't complain or even ask why. He only assumes it is to help him not clear his throat so much, which seems to be the only tic he notices. He has heard us use the term "Tic" but I know in his mind, he pictures the bug but he knows nothing of Tourette Syndrome and I shall keep it that way as to not hand him a crutch. With great hope and fingers crossed, this too shall pass.

Bend or Break Free

There is a certain level of flexibility that every human obtains. A mental and emotional flexibility. We all conform to our lives, we all adapt. We all bend and sometimes we break.

My breaking point was The Drunk. I, myself, am not an alcoholic, I simply assumed the self-inflicted form of the victim. To become the victim of an alcoholic is extremely weakening and unnerving. Against my own character, I temporarily conformed to a life of unbalance. Through my eyes I could see that life in his world was unhinged but to him, the delusional alcoholic, nonsense was justifiable. I witnessed, repeatedly, a seemingly cordial spirit as it perished and began thriving on abuse. He came to life only when suffocating in his own routine. He became a demented and belligerent raptor, schizophrenic and paranoid by his own doing. His insanity amplified by fabricated accusations and duplicity. Night after sleepless night, I was the focus of his drunken rage. There was no need to provoke him, the alcohol was consumed in large enough amounts at a fast enough pace to tip the mental scale, sending him into a downward spiral of ignorance. At once, I became his prey. He wanted enough control to convince me that I was free while convincing himself that I couldn't escape... then I broke. Free. To a better life. Though he still stalks his prey and howls from his cave I am physically unscathed, only licking my mental wounds. The lesson is this;

Sobriety is a form of death to an alcoholic, an unrealistic demise that is disciplined only by the monsters. You will die with it if you don't break away.

Monsters ARE real.

After years of emotional strain and restless nights from caring so much about a brother who is an alcoholic and drug addict I have finally found a way to put a "child-friendly" (and I use the word "friendly" very loosely) name to the issues that are happening in our family and that my kids have to know about. I can only hope that I explain this realism in a way that will ultimately deter them from ever fighting the Real Monsters in life. I cross my fingers that my own daughter never has to face sleepless nights because her brother is consumed and in great measure, hope the same for my son.


Dear Children, 

            I have recently realized that I have been lying to you since you were very young and I'm sorry but you must now know the truth. Monsters ARE real. They look nothing like the green fuzzy beast that you think hides under your bed waiting for me to leave the room so he can tickle your exposed toes or the slimy one perched under the stairs waiting to grab your ankles as you ascend from the basement. The real monsters hide inside of real people. Initially the person himself is not the monster, rather the monster is the end result of a culmination of bad decisions and disease. The real monsters are drugs, alcohol and other addictive fixations. An otherwise normal person who is plagued with the disease of addiction will lose the conflict with the evil that tempts him if he even entertains the idea. When he loses, the monster surfaces and the "normal person" you once knew becomes an entirely different entity. These monsters reek havoc on the lives of everyone involved and are extremely powerful. These monsters that I speak of are far worse than any you've ever dreamed of. You can wake from a dream, even a nightmare but you can not wake from life. I beg of you to never tease the evils, there is only one way to find out if you can beat the monster or become it and that is the hard way. Please be safe in life and decision making.


                                                                                                           With MUCH love, 
                                                                                                                   ~Mom


I can only blame the monsters, not the delicate soul. Life can be a series of unfortunate events that not even Lemony Snicket could conjure up but we must realize that our spirits are capable of overcoming even the most incredibly poor circumstances.

As my brother's sister I want to be his shield. I would go into battle head first and clear his path so that he didn't have to fight the fight but in my heart I know that he is strong enough to win and nothing is impossible! I understand the agonizing debacle my brother and so many others face. This struggle has to be fought from the outside in. Be stronger than the urge. Get mad at temptation, fight it until your fingers bleed. Have zero tolerance for less than you deserve. You have to love yourself enough to fight for you. Stand up, chin up, chest out with rage in your eyes and feel empowered.

As far as we know there is no cure for Alcoholism or the addiction to drugs, there are only tools of coping for the vessel in which the disease thrives. Though I am beginning to believe that there is a cure, one that starts before the disease breathes it's first breath. Prevention. In a way that we don't stop at Say No To Drugs. We don't stop at teaching our children to be good, we teach them to be better. Teach them that they are in control of themselves. Teach our children that they are far stronger than the temptations in life. Teach them EMPOWERMENT. Teach Our Children Well.

Teach Our Children Well

A few weeks ago I was refreshed in my on going quest to raise decent human beings when I saw something I hadn't seen in a very long time. Probably since I was very young.

A little girl, probably three yrs. old, was bouncing around in the back of a mini van in a parking lot. Her exhausted mother was probably staring nostalgia in face while dreaming of her younger days when she didn't have to drive a mini van to tote around all of her husbands "great ideas" or "date nights" or whatever you wish to call them. The days before her ride smelled of spoiled apple juice and her hair was glittered with Cheerios, which she had to pack in a flowery snack container so other mother's thought she cared enough. Finally, the mom crawled out of the driver's seat and opened the sliding door in an attempt to manage her little monster. She told the little girl, at least five times, to hand her a pair of shoes. The little girl stomped her foot and with her fists locked at her sides she yelled "NO!" For the next three minutes the mom calmly tried to reason with the girl and coax her out from behind the back seat. Ultimately this turned into a battle which every mother of a child over the age of one is familiar with. It was the screaming child vs. the stern mother whom no matter how many times she clinched her teeth and said "Get over here... NOW!" while pointing her finger at the floor space in front of her, the child refused. "FINALLY" I thought... when the mom climbed into the back of the van, pulled the little girl out and gave her a much earned swat to her backside. I smiled as though in that very moment Mother's the world over felt a tremble of empowered again. *note to little girl... you can only tell your mother "No" so many times before she has to take action and remind you of the pecking order, you little brat. When it was all said and done, the little girl listened to what her mother told her and harmony (from the 1980's) was restored.

Sometimes it takes a little tough love to bring a child back to reality. Too many kids rule the roost at home, at the grocery store, even at school... whether it's with peers or teachers. There are parents who believe that hitting your kid is wrong, I am one of those parents. Disciplining your child without forever scarring them is completely different. We give children all the power in the world as if it's our duty. We are putting very small human beings in charge of situations which are building the big human beings they will become. We have to teach them self respect, common sense, peace and respect for others, THAT is our duty. It is our duty as parents to control our child until they are mature enough to control themselves. It is our duty as parents to teach our children right from wrong. It is our duty to show them how to love, even if it's a little tough sometimes. As parents we are responsible for what we hand the world.

If your child has such a lack of respect for others, self-respect, peace or common sense that they go to school and bully other children because you're ignoring them at home or worse, paying too much attention to them by beating them when they do something wrong and ignoring them when they do something right then I blame you! If your child lacks self-respect, common sense, peace or respect for others and goes to school with a gun, threatening or taking the lives of other children because they, themselves, were bullied, then I blame you! In the end it is your duty to Teach Our Children Well.