Magic Pill

My pastor was telling a story the other day about his daughter and how, with a recent diagnosis, it meant she would need to take a pill every day for the rest of her life — and how difficult it was sometimes to remember, but how it was vital… and I was jealous.

I was jealous because they have this magic pill that will help her, and we don’t. We have tried a variety of magic pills, but the reality is there is not one for PDA. Rather, due to the complexity of the brain, there are 30+ pills that may help… but none that will cure… none that will make it go away — at least that’s our experience thus far. We are on our fourth “trial,” and sure, we see some benefits, but… we still see the PDA every day. And yes, we are in burnout, so that plays a big role… but it’s hard. As every time you think this may be it…

…you still hold your breath.

Because hope is dangerous when you’ve been disappointed so many times before.

You try not to get too excited. You tell yourself to be realistic. You remind yourself that this is just another tool, not a solution. But deep down, a part of you still whispers, maybe this one will finally be the thing.

And when it helps a little — but not enough — you’re grateful… and heartbroken at the same time.

Grateful for any inch of progress.
Heartbroken because you’re still climbing a mountain that never seems to end.

I don’t envy the diagnosis. I don’t envy the lifelong medication.
I envy the clarity.
I envy knowing there is a pill.
I envy having something concrete to point to and say, “This helps.”

With PDA, we live in the grey.
The trial and error.
The constant adjusting.
The exhaustion of always wondering if we’re doing the right thing.

And some days, that uncertainty is harder than anything else.