yesterday

There's been few worse days for me as a mother with Liam's Tourette's than yesterday...so far. I go to the TSA page on FB and read what other kids are going through and feel horrible for them and think "Thank God he doesn't have that one" and in the next instant I realize how many new tics have emerged so quickly, and realize that we could be dealing with a new dreaded tic by the time he gets off the bus. I watch videos or read articles and think,"thank goodness we don't have this comorbid condition, or this issue", but it's so constantly shifting that I know that all I can be thankful for or get through is any given moment or given day.

So, yesterday-
The highs can seem so high, and the lows so low- and minutes apart. Liam's soccer coach came over to me when I got back to the field after running to the grocery store and told me that Liam had asked if the team could gather around for a meeting. His coach told me that he was so impressed with how beautifully Liam had explained his TS to his team mates. I was so so very proud of him. Five minutes later I was sitting on the benches at midfield watching my son play goalie and listening to a squealing tic escalating. It was getting louder and more frequent. With the increase in noise level came several "stop it"s and "cut it out!"s and "stop making that noise"s from the other team. The more they yelled at him, the more frustrated he became and the worse the tics got. My heart was pounding, I went and stood closer to the goal, still on the sideline, holding myself back, using all the strength I could muster not to grab my son and leave. Not to yell at the other adults "why are you letting them talk to my child like that?!" Not to beg the kids to please please stop making his tics worse. At the end of the game, I hugged Liam and told him that I was bringing him home for some tea with honey and lemon, knowing that this particular tic really hurts his throat. I pulled the other coach aside and let him know about Liam's diagnosis and asked him to please discuss it with the children on his team and to let them know that we would LOVE for Liam to be able to stop making that noise. That it hurts him, and it annoys him, and we'd love for it to stop. And that the more they yell stop it, and cut it out, and stop doing that, the worse it is for everyone because it only makes the tics escalate.

The bad days feel like a million small battles sometimes. Battling to educate, battling to get Liam through the day with some semblance of normalcy, battling to choose between keeping him in a bubble, or making sure that he's active and taking the opportunity to educate others to accept him and to accept the condition and the hand that he's been dealt.