Thursday, May 26, 2011

7 Years Later: Half Numb

I think my first tears of this journey came in the MRI machine: such a solitary, isolating experience.  You lay there alone, prone, required to be completely still.  Only the hammering sound of the machine to keep you company.  There was nothing to distract me and my physical symptoms were suddenly more apparent.  I talked to God; I did not plead, I mostly wondered.  Something was definitely very wrong.  The slow burn of a new reality settled in. 

They found a white lesion through out my left corpus colosum: the "switchboard" of your brain; the means by which left brain controls the right side of your body and vice versa.  And one in my left temporal lobe.

My right side (draw a vertical line down the center of my body - half my nose, half my trunk, my right leg) had lost its ability to sense.  ("right side anesthesia" is the medical term; motor functioning intact, yet you need sensory input to achieve normal motor functioning).  Dizziness and imbalance are tame terms to describe the added layer of misery.

Back in the ER, with my faithful friend and grandparents, the news was the "best that could be expected."  "The good news is that you did not have a stroke and you do not have a brain tumor.  But it does look like this is first episode of Multiple Sclerosis.  You will need to see a neurologist right away to consider immediate treatment for this episode.  People don't die from this; your life is not at risk, but you do need to see a neurologist right away."

My M.O. in crisis: think, act, feel.  My brain was tired, the action for the day was over: I wept.

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