Eleven years ago, my youngest son was dying.

Several years earlier, Enoch had begun losing his balance, and I didn’t understand why. He was about a year and a half, and, apart from asthma, had always seemed like a normal baby. But he continued to get worse. He lost the progress he had made toward walking because his legs shook too much. He began falling over while sitting, which had never happened before. His legs grew scaly and swelled to twice their normal size. Eventually his feet bulged so much that I couldn’t fit shoes on his feet.

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Our pediatrician laughed off the problem. The swelling was only eczema. He couldn’t walk because he had gotten lazy from so many people in the family carrying him around. Even when I told her, “I feel like I’m losing my child,” she did not take me seriously.

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When I found out that I could take Enoch to Johns Hopkins without a doctor’s referral, I hoped we would find help there. Soon Enoch was undergoing test after test as the physicians at Hopkins tried to figure out what might be wrong with him. But the tests kept coming back negative. In the end, it was impossible to diagnose Enoch with anything, but two of the doctors he saw there said, independently of each other, that he had most likely been injured by a reaction to one of his vaccines. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do about the damage.

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We switched local pediatricians, and the new pediatrician recognized how serious Enoch’s condition was. About two years had passed since his vaccine injury, and he continued to grow worse. His hair—which had been blond—was turning white, and his liver was failing. His body would not process nutrients. Eventually the pediatrician said that he needed to be put on a feeding tube. I asked for a week to think about it while my family went on a trip. It was on that trip that I finally met an answer to prayer. A woman noticed how sick Enoch seemed, and she asked about him. She told me that she knew someone who could help us—Mojka.

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I had tried holistic remedies on Enoch before, as well as chiropractic care, but neither had worked. But the woman, Angela, assured me that Mojka had treated vaccine injury cases before, and that she might still be able to help Enoch, as sick as he was. I contacted Mojka, and she warned me that Enoch was close to the point at which even she couldn’t do anything for him. Thankfully, an appointment cancellation allowed me to fly down to Florida sooner than we expected. Mojka examined Enoch and put him on holistic medicines and a strict diet. Enoch began to improve immediately. We were only in Florida for a few days, but by the time I came back home, the swelling in his legs had gone down. He continued to improve—his hair returned to its normal color, his liver started working again, and he grew stable enough to walk independently.

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There is no question in my mind that Mojka saved Enoch’s life. And she has been a tremendous help in the years since then, as Enoch continues to deal with some lingering neurological challenges. Her eagerness to share her knowledge has allowed me to learn so much. I am deeply grateful for everything she has done for Enoch and for our family, and I will always thank God that we met her when Enoch needed her most.

Karen Sue Johnston