A blind mother, a deteriorating son and the dangers of overmedication

I always thought that I had done my best to be a good mother. I believed I was pretty good at reading my younger son’s feelings—and, besides, he and I had always talked freely about what was going on in his life. So, when he came home from college that summer, I was glad to see that he seemed happy, even elated. Well, yes, he was now a lot more aggressive when driving, even yelling at other drivers, once getting out of the car to lecture a man who was driving behind us. Men, I remember thinking to myself, why are they such competitive drivers?

Next, I noticed the sweating. It was profuse, on his face, his hands, even when the weather got cooler. I learned later that the sweating bothered him so much that he took the drastic step of going to Tai Pei to have surgery to clip … click HERE to continue reading