Can Anyone Tell Me What's Wrong?

We last saw our heroine as she was intubated and flown via helicopter to the U of M, half dead.  If you missed that post, you can check it out here: http://sickofmg.blogspot.com/2017/06/ah-june.html

Now, the best thing about the University of Michigan hospital is that they are a teaching hospital.  That means you get the opinions and minds of MANY doctors and medical students pitching in on your case.

The WORST thing about the U of M hospital is that they are a teaching hospital.  That means they switch doctors every calendar month.  When I first got to the hospital, I had *rock star* doctors (or so I'm told... I was heavily sedated for my own safety, and probably the safety of the medical staff around me!). I received 2 rounds of plasmapheresis, so a total of 10 treatments in October.

November hit, and I got new docs.  And they sucked.  They were lazy, narrow-minded, uneducated people who didn't give a rat's ass about their patients, and gave even less thought to solving the patient's problem.  Dr. Andrea Bozoki and Dr. Ming Hong...These are two names you should remember if you ever need a neurologist.  Run far away.  Why? Because they almost killed me.

They stopped doing the pheresis treatments which were definitely helping me and giving me strength back.  They decided I didn't really need it.  They came up with this crackpot diagnosis of "chronic axonal motor neuropathy."  So let's break that down....

Chronic:  Always
Axonal:  adjective form of axon, meaning nerve fiber
Motor: movement
Neuropathy: refers to general diseases or malfunctions of the nerves.

So their diagnoses was something like I always had nerve fibers that malfunctioned when I moved.

{{crickets}}

Dr. Bozoki told my family if I lost 50 pounds I would be fine.  FINE. Not fine!
Dr. Hong told me (while I'm in the hospital, on a vent, trached to get rid of my double MRSA pneumonia) that if I would just accept the fact that all of this was in my head I would get better.

I looked at him, grabbed my notepad and wrote, "You mean I'm CRAZY?"  And he just kind of closed his eyes and nodded his head.   Yes, these were the doctors in charge of my health, my very LIFE...and they thought I was an overweight nutjob.  Instills lots of confidence...

I was discharged just before Thanksgiving with pain pills and quite a high dose of anxiety medication.  Nine days later, (praise God it was December and I'd hopefully not get any WORSE docs than I had in November) I was driven back to the U of M ER when the pills I was trying to swallow were coming back out of my trach.  By the time I got to the hospital, I had almost no muscle control.  By the time I got to a room, at 2 A.M. (after sitting in the ER for 10 hours), my entire face was paralyzed.  I couldn't close my mouth all the way, and I couldn't open it.  I couldn't open one eye and I couldn't close the other.  I couldn't hold my head up.

And I was terrified.  

To be continued....