Deep inside, the woman knows she's NOT crazy. "How could I have made myself stop breathing while I was UNCONSCIOUS?" she asks.
These doctors send her home with anxiety medication and pain pills. They send her home to die.
Nine days later she is back at the ER of the University hospital unable to swallow. She tried taking her medication at home, but it came out her trach. She can barely breathe. Her facial muscles are completely paralyzed by the time she gets admitted to a room some 12 hours later. She can't even close her teeth together.
Providentially, it is a new calendar month, and the woman is blessed with doctors whose tenacity has thus far been unmatched. One very good doctor with kind brown eyes looks at her and says, "We WILL find out what's wrong with you."
The woman believes him.
Four days later, the doctor delivers on his promise. "We have it narrowed down to 2 things." The woman still cannot speak because of the trach, so she writes, "?"
The doctor with the kind brown eyes looks away for just a moment. He says, "You either have Myasthenia Gravis, which has been suspected, which is not curable but it is treatable. Or you have bulbar palsy. It is degenerative and terminal."
The 29 year old newlywed sits in shock as the words "degenerative and terminal" reverberate through her mind. She can't really wrap her mind around what is being said.
She can't catch her breath. She can't speak. Tears well in her eyes, and she tries to pray. No words form.
The doctor tells the woman that they will continue treating her for Myasthenia Gravis (MG), and if she continues to improve, that's likely what she has. If she does not, she has bulbar palsy.
The woman is discharged shortly before Christmas. Will this be her last one? No one can say.
She still has a feeding tube, a trach, and a broken heart.
As most of you have figured out by now, I am this woman.