Why is it that nothing is as hard to write about than writing about yourself?
Well I suppose I should start at the top. Well; not so much the top as the bottom; my rock bottom to be precise…
I’m pretty confident that in December 2016 or in January 2017 if you typed into google definitions of ‘a train wreck’, you would have probably found a picture of me. I would be sitting there in my hospital bed, sat in pj’s and looking like someone who had recently been hit by a bus.
In the space of weeks, I had lost the job I’d worked so hard for, the relationship I shouldn’t have worked hard for but did, oh and of course, not one to forget the minor details, I’d lost all feeling and use of my legs from the waist down.
Combine been newly jobless, trying to deal with a messy break up, inclusive of 2am arguments, all whilst living on a 6 bed hospital bay, trying to learn to walk again and you’ve got yourself a shit storm. I literally felt like everything sucked so hard that I had been pulled off the face of the earth by my ears.
That said, as much as things were far from ideal and I’m certain I’ve lost part of my sanity that I’m never getting back; my life became such a car crash of affairs that I found myself physically laughing about how much of a mess it was.
This gave me the ability to adopt a bit of a f*ck you attitude to the world and any one on it that attempted to mess with me.
Lets talk the medical bit.
In July 2016 after feeling unwell for some time and ruling out pregnancy, STI’s, being clinically dead and all the other things 3am google search results bring up. The pain in my abdomen got so bad I landed in my local A&E. After 10days I left the hospital resembling an old woman, now with more problems then I’d arrived with and no closer to an answer about what was wrong with me.
Numerous doctors, 5 consultants and several mental breakdowns later, I met my neurologist. After what was months of waiting he diagnosed me with functional neurological disorder; this was most likely caused by an infection.
Unfortunately as the legendary luck of Vanessa would have it, the condition then got worse and in December 2016 I lost all the use and feeling in my legs.
Fast forward to July 2017.
It’s been 1 year since I first fell ill, 8 months since my legs gave up, 7 months since the end of a toxic relationship and 6 months after I officially became a professional patient. I now can walk short distances with two crutches but have no choice other than to rely on a wheelchair most the time.
I’m waiting to fly the nest and start out life living all on my own. My life consists of hospital trips, lots of sleep, lots of tea and trying my very best to live the life a 21 year old should. My determination to get a near to a normal life back carries me on through. I’ve got a long few years ahead and more physio sessions then I can even bare thinking about. However….
With hope, a sense of humour and something only bordering on mental sanity, I know that I can do this.