When Resiliency is a Bad Thing

It has been years since I’ve written publicly on a regular basis. But I’m dusting off my keyboard and tentatively dipping my toes back into what is now an archaic form of digital connection. Our move to Germany this past summer wasn’t exactly the smoothest and we found the transition to be quite humbling – after all, we’ve been at this Army game for almost 20 years now. While we’re certainly more settled than we were when six months ago, we’re still adapting to living life abroad and learning all the idiosyncrasies that accompany such an adventure.

Last week we had a crash course in German medicine when our 14-year-old son was admitted to the local pediatric hospital and diagnosed with a rare condition that will that will require frequent hospitalizations as he receives treatment for at least the next year. We are thankful he has a great team of German doctors who are committed to getting him to remission but we know that a long road, likely with curves, lay ahead of us – especially as we learn more about the disease and its devastating effects . As we begin to process everything and navigate uncharted waters for our family (and in a foreign language!), I can’t help but reflect on resiliency and how it may’ve ultimately led to his condition not being discovered until it became dangerously acute.

On his desk, my son has a framed photograph of him that I snapped shortly before his dad left for Afghanistan. If anything, it serves as a reminder of the resiliency that is expected of him and his sister. While the fact that their father is in the Army doesn’t define them, it is an element that is woven throughout many aspects of their lives. Every family has their own story – the Army just happens to be a part of ours. Our children have the ability to adapt, overcome, and even thrive amidst chaos. But it is impossible to not question what the impact of multiple moves, schools, and ‘starting over’ will have on our children – especially now.

Germany is the 9th place our son has called home. He attended four elementary schools and is currently at his third middle school and I’ve long lost count of the number of pediatricians and dentists he has seen over the years. Our son has likely has suffered from a mild version of this disease for years (looking back through the lens of the diagnosis, so much makes sense about his childhood), but had flown under the radar until the symptoms became impossible to attribute to something else.

Two weeks ago, if you would’ve asked me about resiliency, I would’ve proudly talked about my children and how their exposure to people from different cultures and regions have fostered their inner growth and curated a sense of curiosity that we hope fuels them throughout their lives. I would’ve pointed out that our family motto is “If it were easy, everyone would do it.” And I would’ve bragged about their ability to travel the world and participate in transformative experiences with a positive attitude and minimal complaining. Two weeks ago, I wore my children’s resiliency and ability to adapt as a badge of honor – proof that we’re good parents and that the military lifestyle we’re subjecting them to is making them better.

Now I’m not so sure.

Dinner at a German hospital…

Now that we know what we know, it’s difficult for me to reflect on the last few years without crying. Slight personality changes that we attributed puberty and adjusting to multiple moves were attempts to mask. Unbeknownst to us, he was suffering and living in almost constant pain. I suppose in our defense, he wasn’t really aware either. His decline was at a slow enough slope that he was able to attribute everything to something else – believing that it was all part of the process of getting older. He is incredibility resilient and able to power through so much – we’re still amazed that he was able to accomplish as much as he did, especially given his physical state.

The year ahead of us will be filled with multiple hospitalizations, medication, physical therapy, and adjusting to our new normal. Thankfully he is able to attend school and experience life as much as he sees physically fit in between infusions. We look forward to learning who our son is when he isn’t in constant pain and getting him to remission. And we will continue to encourage him to be resilient. But maybe not too resilient.