I’d like to suggest that parents of young persons with CFIDS (YPWCs) are heroes. I’ll be the first to admit that I rarely feel like a hero. In fact, I often feel like an inadequate parent who is overwhelmed by the realities of what CFIDS has done to our daughter’s life and to our lives as a family.

It’s much easier for me to see the hero qualities in other parents of CFIDS kids. I see perseverance in Dave and Barbara as they have continued to explore creative ways for Nancy to get an education after CFIDS robbed her of her ability to read. Their doggedness in helping her learn through audio and video books and tapes has kept her growing and ready to merge into college life when she is ready.

I see loyalty in Ed and Linda as they stuck with Beth after several noted New York City doctors insisted she was not sick but instead had severe psychological problems. They refused to believe the "experts" and chose instead to trust their daughter’s report of what was happening in her body.

I see heroic qualities in Dave and Mary as they slog through countless, vehement battles with doctors over Josie’s illness. They hang on and refuse to let the press of the battle deter them from their ultimate goal of helping their daughter get well.

I see strength in Peggy as she has endured over a decade of standing by Sharon while she has fought through life-threatening complications to her CFIDS.

I see unbelievable endurance in Cyndi and Steve, who during the past decade have watched all five of their children cut down by CFIDS. Although Cyndi’s own body is severely debilitated by CFIDS, she has pressed on to be there for her children, through the countless weekly doctor appointments, through the losses and disappointments, through the battles with school officials and medical personnel. Steve has been relentless in staying at a job he would like to leave due to its travel demands because he has pledged loyalty to provide financial and emotional stability for his family.

Where do these heroes get their strength, their perseverance, their ability to go on? From each other. From their unquenchable, fierce love for their children. From the support of friends and family. From their faith in God’s promises to walk with them no matter what. From their hope that someday their child or children will again resume a normal life.

I know I draw strength from the lives of these heroes. Each of them would probably say the same thing I said earlier, "I don’t feel like a hero." But each of the people mentioned here — and the thousands of parents whom they represent — is a hero. Each has made a commitment to persevere through the long years, to fight whatever battle looms, to find creative ways to make their child’s life more bearable, to remain loyal, no matter what the cost.

And I know that each of these heroes has grown stronger because of the struggle. I hope someday we get a chance to meet each other and talk about how we have grown. I hope we continue to spur each other on when the going gets very tough.