Max Setka was born paralyzed from the waist down, with nerve and brain damage.
Doctors thought he might have a fatal form of muscular
dystrophy.
“The anxiety of waiting to find out if your son is going
to die – and not being able to do anything about it –
was huge,” says Max’s mother Katharine.
After two-and-a-half years of tests, “they threw up
their hands and said ‘we can’t figure out what’s wrong. He’s a mystery.’ ”
Having a child with a disability but no diagnosis can be
terrifying and isolating.
While Katharine was happy her son had escaped a
more serious prognosis and was making progress she
remembers “a period of despair. You don’t have a
group of medical professionals or parents to reach out
to who know your child’s condition and can provide a
clear path of what to do and what to expect. You’re
forced to travel in the present and what the future
brings is a big unknown.”
“For so long we were in the dark about things that
could help him: that he could have ankle and foot
orthotics that would allow him to stand, or that there
was a nursery school program for children with disabilities. I had him in regular daycare and had to
coach the staff on how to handle him.”
At age two, Max was accepted into Bloorview’s neuromuscular
program, and “that was good for us. Even
though we were an oddity and didn’t fit, we at least
had someone to follow Max.”
Max attended Bloorview’s integrated kindergarten
program, which gave him access to physiotherapy and
other services for three years. Katharine felt supported
by mothers of other students in the school, and Max
identified strongly with fellow students who had
cerebral palsy and similar physical issues.
However, once Max left the school, Katharine had
trouble accessing services that would have kept him
with his former classmates. “Many programs are
targeted to children with common diagnoses, like
cerebral palsy,” Katharine says. “It’s hard when your
child doesn’t fit the criteria.”
It’s not easy to parent a child who doesn’t have a label
“but you get used to it,” Katharine says. “You have to
satisfy yourself that you’re going to chart your own
course, and you have to find people who are flexible.
At some point you have to say enough is enough when
it comes to searching for a diagnosis. If your child is
making some progress, it’s okay to stop.” 
How one mom deals with the unknown
In some ways it’s given me peace. I recently read
Schuyler’s Monster, about a non-verbal girl and
her family. They had a years-long search for a
diagnosis and finally got one, and live under the
threat that someday she’s likely to suffer from
violent grand mal seizures. That sounds like an
awful way to live. My advice is to stay flexible
and don’t be attached to any particular
expectations. Maybe it’s good to assume that
not having a diagnosis could be a good thing.
Even kids with solid diagnoses may not live up
to the expectations of their condition – which I
imagine can also be disappointing. I don’t have
any such limitations. Everyday is new and brings
its own gifts and challenges. It’s like the
ultimate test to become a Buddhist monk – live
in the moment!
Jennifer Johanessen, mom to Owen, 10, who
has disabilities and no diagnosis.