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There is Something Wrong with My Son

This starts with the day Mathew was admitted to the Zephyrhills, Florida Hospital. This was the day someone finally believed me and heard me when I said, "there's something wrong with my son." But being listened to this day didn't come easy.

Mathew had been living in Tampa for a year after graduating from college. The week up to Feb 13th he and I had spent moving him back home. I felt that if he were closer to home, I could take better care of him and get him to a doctor that would take us seriously. We had been in and out of doctor's offices for months, trying to get someone to realize that there was something wrong.

Friday morning, I took Mathew to see my doctor, a doctor Mathew has seen in the past, while in school.
At this point, Mathew thought that his symptoms of;
 -nausea
 -vomiting
- red urine
was a withdrawal from the Horizant that the neurologist had prescribed and Mathew had stopped taking because it wasn't working and he could no longer afford it.
 I had wondered if he had hepatitis or if the medicine had damaged his liver.

The P.A. took one look at Mathew and said his symptoms wouldn't be withdrawal from Horizant and even though Mathew had eaten a light breakfast, he wanted bloodwork done in a few hours. An appointment was set up for the following Wednesday to go over the results.

Even though we waited another 3 hours to go to the lab, they didn't want to do the bloodwork because Mathew had eaten earlier. I insisted they call the doctors office. I found out later the bloodwork had been ordered STAT.

Wednesday couldn't come soon enough for us.

Back at my parent's house, Mathew wanted me to rub his back. For the past few months, he was always asking people to rub his back. "It hurts," he said. So I did, and he pulled his shirt up so I could reach better, and when I looked at his lower back I could see how prominent his veins looked, and I remember thinking, "we are in trouble."
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