If that title sounds like a bold promise to be making, please withhold judgment and stay with me for a moment. See what you think of the following, and let me know.

At the time most of the words in WATB were flowing out of my fingertips, the writing was an emotional outlet. But once it had been released, that pressure didn’t require me to spend further time burnishing the writing or putting my family’s life on display. And surely there are easier ways to become a published author, if that was my motivation. There was another reason, which came to me about ten years ago. A lot of people are in need of direction and perspective, and a lot of kids are counting on them to find it.

In hopes of sharing what I knew, I first launched an informational website. WATB is another offering.

By the way, I’m talking to myself here, too. Anything I suggest that sounds like an insight is one I’m still arriving at. Putting the right words together to define the situation is as much a benefit for me, still, as for anyone. That’s why I encourage dialog.

Of course, thanks to the Net, nobody today needs to spend any time being as lost and clueless as my little household remained throughout 1985 and most of 1986, and arguably far beyond that date. In those days, what we knew to be true came from very few sources:

• What we could see (i.e., that our baby was in distress)
• What we believed (that finding a way to help him was our responsibility)
• What the various doctors we consulted told us (first, don’t worry; be patient; and later, don’t blame yourself; and finally, don’t let this thing wreck your life)
• What alternative providers subsequently told us (that a little personal sacrifice on our part could make things much better)

At least some of the above points had to be wrong, or at best incomplete.

The story I tell was a matter of sorting through them
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