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At the end of the day, Lacey is worn out from school and being active, and reaches out to her mother. Lacey is very affectionate with her family members.
Lacey recently began walking without her walker. Karen Deshazo walks holding a string to reassure Lacey, then occasionally lets it go so she can walk on her own. Lacey rushes to catch up.
Lacey's mother tries to get her to eat some pudding as her brother Brandon, 12, does his homework.
Lacey touches one of her favorite classmates as her teacher, Luanne Clatterbuck, reads a book.
Lacey sits with her classmates, TJ Nelson (right)
Lacey washes her hands with Pam Brennan, an occupational therapist at Falmouth Elementary. Lacey wears her pink glasses to dull the brightness of the world, making everything easier to take in.
Lacey Milner, 8, lies on the living-room floor with her brother Timm, 14, after school. Lacey's two brothers spend time with her each day. |
FOR FOUR YEARS, Theresa Milner searched for a doctor who could help her daughter.
She heard the same discouraging diagnosis from 17 different physicians, who looked at little Lacey and said nothing would improve her condition.
The baby girl, and third child of Theresa and Edward Milner of North Stafford, had been diagnosed with cerebral palsy. Doctors said her brain was damaged, either during birth or when she was in the womb, and she simply wouldn't develop as other children do.
Lacey had grown so slowly by her fourth birthday that she wore the clothes of an 18-month-old. She couldn't sit up or hold a crayon, and she barely spoke.
She was a baby in arms and probably always would be, said one specialist, who told Milner to stop "doctor shopping" and accept her daughter the way she was.
Milner couldn't.
The little voice inside her kept telling her to keep looking, that the girl she'd always wanted was capable of more.
Besides, if she accepted the notion that her daughter would never get any better, she'd be giving up, and that wasn't part of Milner's makeup, according to friends.
"She's always been a fighter, she's never been a quitter," said Cathy Morton, a Maryland woman who has known Milner since childhood. "I don't think she's ever thrown up her hands and said, 'I can't do this anymore.' Never ever, not her."
A 1,200-mile trip to the doctorMilner's quest led her to a clinic halfway across the country in Houston, Texas.
There she met Dr. Gail Henry, a specialist in chiropractic neurology, a field outside the realm of traditional medicine.
Chiropractors don't have medical degrees, prescribe medicine or perform surgery. They deal more with manual adjustments of the spine and physical manipulations, according to the American Chiropractic Association.
Chiropractic neurologists also use physical therapies to stimulate the brain to send messages to the rest of the body.
During Lacey's first appointment with Henry in August 2000, the doctor used several methods Milner had never seen before.
She held a metronome, a device that measures time in music, against Lacey's ear. The steady click-click-click would help give Lacey's brain a rhythm, the doctor said.
Then, Henry put Lacey in a swivel chair and turned her three times. That was to calm the right side of the child's brain, she explained.
Milner was skeptical, and thought: "I flew all the way to Houston to put a $10 metronome to her ear?"
But she and Lacey went home and did what the doctor ordered. School workers tried the same therapies in class.
Things started happening.
Lacey, who barely babbled 20 words and sounds up to that point, started talking. One evening in early fall, she spoke a complete sentence.
She was in the van with her mother and brothers, Timm and Brandon, now 14 and 12. She looked out the window as the family went by a store and announced:
"I wa go-go Foo Lion."
"That freaked us out," her mother said, when Lacey recognized Food Lion--and said she wanted to go inside.
Then the little girl who had failed to thrive from the day she was born started to put on pounds. Her lack of weight had been such an issue when she was an infant, Lacey had to be weighed at the doctor's office three times a week for a year.
That was a rough time for Milner. "You're driving down the road, praying she didn't pee because you're watching every little ounce," she said.
But after the Houston treatments, Lacey went up two sizes in a year.
The Milners continued their 1,200-mile treks to Texas. They paid for travel and treatments themselves, because their insurance didn't cover the therapy. Each visit cost about $2,000, stretching a family budget that was already tight because the mother had to quit working when Lacey was born.
But Lacey's father, a policeman in the city of Alexandria, felt he owed it to his daughter to give her every chance. He took on more overtime--and a second job.
The Milners made plenty of sacrifices, but they also had some rewarding moments. One of those came on Dec. 23, 2000, when Lacey was a flower girl in her teacher's wedding.
There was hardly a dry eye in the church when Lacey, leaning on a walker, slowly made her way down the aisle.
"That was huge," said Christie Trotta, the bride and Lacey's teacher at Garrisonville Elementary School. "Here was a child who had been like an infant, who couldn't stand noise, couldn't stand the wind in her face, couldn't stand to look at a jar of baby food because it would totally make her gag.
"Now, here she was walking. It took her a while, but she did it."
'Definitely a different child'The improvement Lacey made rarely happens in special-education classes.
"So many times, you don't see any progress," said Trotta, who's taught for eight years.
Lacey "has been a huge success story," said the teacher, who still keeps in touch with the Milners even though Lacey is in a different school. "I never thought she'd be where she is now, so I can't imagine where she's going to be five years from now."
Lacey, now 8, attends Falmouth Elementary School. She spends half her day with other first-graders and gets physical or occupational therapy the rest of the time.
She always has a teacher or aide with her.
The fair-skinned Lacey, who has bright brown eyes and long black curly hair, got an award last week for walking down the hallway by herself. She doesn't need a walker anymore; she just holds someone's hand for extra support.
She talks regularly in complete sentences and offers hugs and kisses to her Dora the Explorer doll, as well as to her brothers.
Watching her progress has been thrilling, said Chris Bowman, school nurse at Falmouth.
"I would have never dreamed that she would have gone up and down steps," Bowman said. "It's unbelievable. She's definitely a different child."
No one knows that better than her family, and each member gives credit to the alternative therapy Lacey got in Houston.
For a time, Lacey's father wondered if his daughter's development would have happened anyway. But then, he pointed out, nothing was happening before Henry's treatments.
He's always amazed by the immediate impact some of the therapies have. For instance, Lacey suffers from a number of other health problems, including extreme constipation. After Henry "adjusts" her--a physical manipulation to put the bones in their proper places--Lacey has regular bowel movements.
Lacey's brother, Timm, points to more proof that the doctor helps his sister. "She always says 'Thank you' after she's adjusted," he said.
But then, the polite little girl says "Thank you" to almost anything: when her mom offers her some yogurt, when brother Brandon gives her a hug, or when Timm tells her she's his "funny Lacey."
'The brain is amazing'Cerebral palsy is not a disease, according to the United Cerebral Palsy Web site. It's a condition that affects body movement and muscle coordination, and it's usually caused by brain damage during fetal development or birth.
Cerebral palsy can't be cured, the Web site states, but various therapies can help improve function.
There's no typical description of cerebral palsy patients because the conditions vary so much. But if a child isn't sitting up by age 4, it's generally assumed she'll never walk, according to the Alfred duPont Institute in Wilmington, Del.
Lacey was 4--and fit that description--the first time she saw the doctor in Houston. When Henry examined her, she noted that her central nervous system was so fragile she couldn't handle the stimulation around her.
Lacey's brain wasn't firing the way it should, Henry said, so the doctor used therapies, such as the metronome, to help her brain develop a rhythm. Other treatments, like moving Lacey's legs in a marching motion every time her diaper was changed, would help other aspects of the girl's development, the doctor said.
Henry doesn't talk in detail about the treatments used for Lacey because she doesn't want anyone to try them at home. Lacey's therapy was geared for her specific situation, Henry said. Treatments that helped Lacey might hurt another child, she said.
"There's no cookie-cutter pattern or program for any disorder, not at all, no matter what the age," Henry said. "Everybody's brain--and their whole nervous system--is a little different."
Despite Lacey's brain damage, Henry said the girl still had many viable brain neurons and pathways left. Once these were stimulated, Lacey was able to crawl, then stand, then walk.
"The brain is amazing in its ability to survive and recover and function," Henry said.
But there's no published evidence in the medical world that therapies like the ones Henry uses can help establish pathways to the brain, said Dr. Murray Goldstein, director of United Cerebral Palsy's research and education foundation in Washington.
He's a neurologist, and he often deals with the chiropractic community. But he's never heard of the term "chiropractic neurology."
"Quite frankly, I can't imagine what the biological basis for this would be," he said.
Those who worked with Lacey in school had their doubts as well.
"You would wonder, 'How in the world is this going to work?'" said Kirsten Dye, a former classroom aide at Garrisonville. "But then you see how far she's come. It has worked."
Sharing information with other parentsMilner wants to take Lacey even further.
Next month, they'll travel to North Carolina, where Lacey will undergo magnetic therapy at the Advanced Magnetic Research Institute. All seven cerebral palsy patients exposed to magnetic rays--the same kind as generated during a diagnostic test--showed improvement, according to the institute.
Doctors at the institute believe long-term exposure to magnets may activate the brainstem, which may lead to tissue regeneration, according to a preliminary report.
Goldstein, from the cerebral palsy foundation, calls that a "far-flung hypothesis." He pointed out, again, that there's no published evidence on that theory.
The Milners would say Lacey's never done anything the "normal" way. "She's never followed the books or anything doctors were taught," her mother said.
Milner wondered if there were any dangers with magnetic therapy and says she's been assured the new treatment won't hurt Lacey.
The expense will pinch their budget, though. The magnetic therapy costs $50 an hour, and patients need up to 200 hours. That's at least $10,000 for the first round, and none of it is covered by insurance.
The treatments will be given while Lacey sleeps, so she and her mother will stay at the institute for several weeks. The cost includes a room with a kitchen.
To help the family, Dye, who worked with Lacey at Garrisonville, has organized a fund-raiser. She's holding a basket bingo tomorrow night at American Legion Post 290 in Stafford County.
Milner plans to share all she learns about the new therapy, and the other information she's gathered in her eight-year quest, with other interested parents. By spring, she hopes to start a foundation to raise money for those who can't afford alternative therapies.
She knows how frustrating it is to be told that nothing can be done, and she wants to encourage other parents to keep looking. Not for a miracle, she said, but to give each child the chance to reach his or her potential.
"I'm not looking for a cure, I'm not looking for a quick fix," Milner said. "I'm just shooting for her to maybe be independent one day."
Basket Bingo Benefit: Tomorrow at American Legion Post 290 in Stafford County, on American Legion Road off U.S. 1. Doors open at 6:15 p.m.; bingo starts at 7 p.m. Tickets are $15 in advance and $20 at the door. Prizes are Henn and Longaberger products. For more information, call Kirsten Dye at 540/752-2449.
Fund-raising foundation, set up by co-workers of Lacey's father: Alexandria Police Association, Children's Assistance Fund, c/o Lacey Milner, 3010 Colvin St., Alexandria, Va. 22324.
To reach CATHY DYSON: 540/374-5425 cdyson@freelancestar.com
