As the tech wheeled me down the long halls of Northwestern Hospital in Chicago, all I could think about was finally having an answer. An answer for the plethora of bizarre medical symptoms I had been experiencing for months. I had four little ones at home ages 1-8 years, who desperately wanted their mommy back.
He wheeled me into a room, the doctor walked in, closed the door, and began speaking to me as if I were a naughty toddler.
She explained to me that the EEG was completely normal, as well as the other tests. She condescendingly informed me that I did not want to have seizures, “people with seizures can’t drive”; she then explained that I did not want to have Myasthenia Gravis either, because “it is a terrible disease that sometimes leaves ones in wheelchairs.”
Did she honestly believe I was there because I really wanted to have some terrible illness?!
She then let me know that they had ruled out the possibility of there being anything organically wrong with me; and that she had taken the liberty of making an appointment for me with one of their leading psychiatrists.
As she spoke, I felt myself slipping into a black hole.
Fourteen years and many doctors, counselors, medications, and prayer vigils after that devastating day, it was confirmed last week by a neurologist in Georgia, that I do indeed have Myasthenia Gravis.
I did receive that diagnosis by a separate doctor in Indiana shortly after the Northwestern experience, but until last week it had been debated. A main part of the confusion was the fact that I continued to complain of “seizures”, and seizures and MG do not go together. However, it has now been discovered that when the muscles become fatigued by the MG, they can shake and jerk as they fight to work, which of course to the lay person could appear to be a seizure.
Dear friends, I want you all to know that there has been a distinct purpose for the pain, humiliation, and confusion that I have endured for the last 15 years.
God has used the time to cause me to deal with the spiritual warfare aspects of my problems, as well as the mental and emotional scars of my past.
He has truly used my time serving on the launch team for Jo Ann Fore’s book, When a Woman Finds Her Voice, to give me boldness to find my own.
As soon as I stepped out in obedience to share my painful past; He revealed the final puzzle piece to my issues, the physical aspect.
I began a new medication last week. Please pray that it might be effectual, and that surgery to remove my thymus won’t be needed.
“Sometimes a stronger, more realistic faith is birthed in the darkest of pits.”
Jo Ann Fore, When a Woman Finds Her Voice.
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