My Day of Diagnosis

For me, it really was practically just a DAY of diagnosis.  I have heard that for many people the diagnosis takes weeks, months, and even years.

It was the summer of 2004, I was 17 years old, about to start my senior year of high school.  My family lived in Japan, but we were spending the summer in Georgia with my grandparents.  I went to the annual Girl's Camp that our church offers for young women aged 12-18.  It was a week in cabins in the mountains of Georgia in July.  It was miserably hot, and I definitely didn't drink enough water.  I had a blast at the camp, doing all the activities and also strengthening my spirituality.  I came home and plopped into bed and apparently didn't wake up for 2 days!  I woke up and my whole body was tingling.  I thought I was just still tired, so I went back to bed and slept for another 12 hours.  I was still tingly when I woke up and eventually my left leg went completely numb.  My mother thought I must have pinched a nerve or something so she took me to a chiropractor who looked me over and ran electricity through me and said that I must be dehydrated.  So for the next couple of days, my mom pumped me full of water.  I drank bottle after bottle of water.  And the numbness spread, until my entire left side (except my head) was completely numb and my muscles were weak and difficult to control.

So early the next morning she took me to an urgent care clinic (remember, we weren't at home so we didn't have a doctor to go to).  We waited for a long time and when we finally got in to the doctor, he looked me over and told us honestly that he had no idea what was wrong with me.  He said he thought the problem was neurological, so he called ahead and got us an appointment that day with a neurologist.  So we drove over to the neurologist's office and as soon as we signed in the receptionist said, "Oh, they're waiting for you, go on in."  The waiting room was full of people, so this was a little nerve-wracking.  The neurologist looked me over and did the (what now is usual to me) poking and prodding and ordered an immediate MRI.  He said he thought it looked like it might be Multiple Sclerosis, but he wouldn't know for sure until he looked at the MRI.  So we went to the Radiology clinic and the same thing happened, they sent us straight in even though there were plenty of people in line ahead of me.  My poor mother was frantic, I could tell, but she hid it well.  I had my first MRI.  It seemed to go on FOREVER.  The neurologist told us that we didn't have to come back for a few hours so they could get the results, so my mom and I went to grab some lunch.  I remember in the car saying, "Mom, what is Multiple Sclerosis?"  And she said, "Don't worry, you don't have Multiple Sclerosis."  My mom is a pharmacist and knows a lot about health issues/medications/etc. so this was reassuring to me. 

We went back to the neurologist and we waited for the results of the MRI.  After what seemed like eternity, the neurologist came in and said, "It looks like it is Multiple Sclerosis."  Just like that, and my world changed.  My mother burst into tears, and I didn't know what to feel.  I had a LOT of emotions running through me all at once.  I had NO IDEA what Multiple Sclerosis was.  The first questions I asked were, "Am I going to die?" "Will I be able to have children?"  and "Will my children have it too?"  This tells you a lot about me.  Even at 17, I knew I wanted to be a momma.

The next couple of weeks consisted of getting a Lumbar Puncture (LP) or Spinal Tap, which came back as inconclusive, so we got a second opinion.  That doctor just looked at my MRI and completely agreed that it was MS.  So then my parents researched the 3 or 4 treatment options that were available at the time, all of which were injections, and settled on Betaseron (Interferon Beta), a shot every other day.

Those were some of the dreariest days of my life, but they shaped me, and led me to turn to the Lord at a young age and develop a personal relationship with my Savior.  I remember that I was praying almost constantly.  In the shower, kneeling by my bed, in my head, almost all the time.  I was going through the stages of grief for sure.  I distinctly remember being angry and yelling at God.  I remember trying to barter with Him.  "Heavenly Father, if you lift this from me I will do anything you ask of me."  But after a while those prayers turned into, "Heavenly Father, thank you for allowing me to still have children.  If this is the trial you think I need to endure in this life, then I will."  So I guess my children helped me get through that time, even though they weren't born yet :) 

Looking back, I see many tender mercies from the Lord in this experience:

• That I was diagnosed so quickly.
• That we were in the USA when I was diagnosed.  I was already confused enough, but to add the language barrier would have made things even scarier. 
• That my mom is a pharmacist and knew all the jargon that the doctors were using and could 'translate' it into 17-year-old jargon.
• That I had my faith and Heavenly Father to turn to.