For the last eleven years of being sick, time has been my enemy.
The first sign I was ill was that I started moving in slow-motion—I lost awareness of time passing. Doctors thought it was late-onset Attention-Deficit Disorder. Instead, as I’d find out eight years later, my immune system was attacking my brain.
Continue reading “The Part of PANS/Encephalitis Recovery We Don’t Talk About”
These days, when friends ask how I am, I tell them I’m fantastic—and for a moment, I almost believe it.
I tell them about my new projects. I tell them about grad school in the fall. I tell them about a professional development program this summer. When I talk about everything I’m doing, I fool everyone—even myself—into thinking I’m healthy. Continue reading “Why I’m Doing Better Than I Think”
Well, after dreading it and hoping and praying it wouldn’t happen again, I’ve just had another bad flare.
On my way to class last week, I overheard someone say she had Strep throat.
No. I can’t flare again, I thought to myself. It’s not going to happen. I’m still on antibiotics. I’ve had two IVIGs. I should have plenty of good antibodies if I’m exposed. I’ll be fine…
But then, when I got to class and saw one of my lab mates who hadn’t been around in a few days, I asked where he’d been—and immediately wished I hadn’t:
“Oh, I had strep throat. It was a really bad one!” Continue reading “I Don’t Know Anymore”
Last summer, over the course of a few hours, I suddenly became unable to walk due to an autoimmune attack in my brain. If I tried to go from my living room to the kitchen, I fell multiple times because my legs would suddenly give out.
In one moment of insight during that horrendous time when I had not only lost the ability to walk but had essentially lost my mind, I said to myself, I’m going to run a marathon someday and overcome this. And I’m going to beat my best 5k time from eight years ago within the next year.
It was truly a crazy idea. Maybe I still wasn’t in my right mind when I came up with that…
This week, I have wonderful news… Instead of moving home for the summer like I’d planned, I’ve decided to remain at school to take classes and work.
While this may sound like a “normal” summer for an almost-20-year-old, for me, it’s a huge victory. Not too long ago, I hated everything and wanted nothing more than to go home and spend my summer lying on the couch or in bed (just like last summer). But now, I want to keep pursuing my dreams in this city—dreams that I’d pushed to the back burner for far too long because of my illness.
I just finished my second, and hopefully last, IVIG treatment!
Recently, I’d been feeling like I’d made no progress with any of my symptoms after my first IVIG. But strangely, it was the process of going back for another IVIG that showed me this was simply untrue.
When I had the first IVIG in August, if I got out of the chair to stand up and stretch my legs, I started doing a wild choreiform movement dance. I couldn’t even look at my doctor to talk to her because I was moving so much. I had to hold onto the IV bag pole to keep from falling down when I tried to walk down the hall to the bathroom.
This time, I hardly had any movements, and the ones I did have were barely noticeable to anyone besides me—except for when I took one spill in the hallway… Continue reading “IVIG #2: I’m Finally Aware”
Ever since I started treatment this summer, I’ve found myself constantly asking, “Am I better yet?”
When I got IVIG, I’d hoped maybe I would start getting better within a few weeks. Whenever I had a good day, I started to think I was getting better. But then the symptoms would come back, and I’d be disappointed. I’d been told it could take me up to a year to get back to 100%, but I hoped it would be sooner. Wouldn’t you?
Six months later, I’m still playing the am-I-better-yet game, and the answer is still no. Certainly, I’m “better” than I was in a lot of ways, but I’m nowhere near where I want to be. I was doing really well, but now that I’m finding out where I am with less of the anti-inflammatory and immunosuppresent qualities of the steroids, I really don’t like what I’m seeing.
When I look back at the last few months and think about everything I’ve been through, I’m often surprised by my own resilience. What keeps me going? Why do I not give up? And I think to myself, “How in the world do I stay so positive?”
The answer? I don’t.
In our society, there’s a faulty idea that being strong and tough means holding in all emotions except the pleasant ones. We salute the people who go through terrible things and still smile and look on the bright side at the end of it all. We are forever being told that as long as we can be optimistic about life and stay positive, we’ll get through whatever comes our way. Although no one ever says so, to me it often seems like crying and grieving and expressing pain is frowned upon. Everything will be okay. Just be positive!
