It took my son over 4 years to get diagnosed with a chronic illness. Doctors kept dismissing his symptoms.

• My son had a fainting incident at school that resembled a seizure.
• We went to numerous doctors and had many tests over the years with no answers.

The day my son fell to the floor and seized in his first-grade classroom, I was on my way to the hospital 40 minutes away for a procedure. His teacher called and explained the series of terrifying events — including a possible seizure, fainting, and unconsciousness — and that he rode in an ambulance to the nearest hospital, which happened to be different from mine.

With sporadic communication, as I prepared to go under anesthesia, various details emerged about the incident. He'd turned white, confused about what happened, while others gathered around him in fear. And he felt scared. Other than that, no one knew what happened.

By the time we both returned home, I followed his doctor's orders to schedule further testing. So, when Monday morning came, I did just that. Between bloodwork, prodding and poking an MRI, and dozens of questions, doctors couldn't pinpoint an exact cause for the incident outside of stress. His father had abruptly moved out of the house a month prior, so tensions were high, and the uncertainty of our future must've weighed on him more than I previously thought, so I decided to do whatever was necessary to help him.

But it wasn't that easy.

There were no answers as to what had happened

Weeks of appointments soon turned into months. At the age of 7, my son endured dozens of various doctor appointments, bloodwork, and EKGs. But they still couldn't figure it out. In the meantime, my son's suffering increased. Symptoms became more evident and dangerous the longer we went without answers.

When the incidents happened, his cheeks would flush, followed by dizziness and fainting. It could happen in the heat or when sitting indoors — it didn't matter. He began getting migraines and visceral, violent nightmares, along with sleepwalking. None of it made sense, and no one would listen long enough to help.

Alone in my search for answers, I scoured the web for anything that could help. Some around me said I was "overreacting" or "being dramatic" in my commitment to help my son. But in my gut, I knew the answers were there. We just hadn't found the right person to see them.

I did everything I could to control the episodes

So, I circled back to the beginning and went step-by-step to rule things out. He started therapy to help him cope with the stress of his father's absence. I polished our bedtime routine to help him sleep. We made sure he had enough water so he didn't overheat. And, though doctors didn't specify hypoglycemia, I made sure he always had a snack at hand to prevent any dizziness or fainting.

Some days these things worked, and others, they didn't. By the time we found the doctor who saved him, more than four years had gone by. In February 2023, he was officially diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome — or POTS — which is related to reduced blood volume and can cause all of the symptoms my son had during all those miserable years.

He now has medication, education about how to prevent spells, and the tools to keep this disorder at bay (most of the time).

As I look at him now, I see how far we've come. I can't relieve all the pain his mind, body, and soul have gone through, but he now knows if anything ever happens to him again, I will be there, and I will find a way to help.