It wasn’t long ago that my life was the ordinary, wonderful kind. Work, kids, friends, family. Remarkable really, that juggling we do in order to keep all those precarious balls in the air. We’re the generation of multi-taskers, relishing in the busy-ness .. and I was killing it …until I wasn’t.
I’d like to say it came out of the blue, my illness … and in many ways it did. Within the span of a week I went from working 40 hours a week, partnering with my husband in our business, raising three kids and being a fully engaged (at times excessively so, thanks to a bit of hyperactivity and OCD) member of our community to being struck down with a very complex and clearly baffling neurological disease. It wasn’t until much later that I realized there had been clues along the way. Clues I was too busy to pay attention to.
That was three years ago. Three years of doctors and testing and specialists. Three years of listening to potential diagnoses only to have them rescinded when the testing didn’t support the theories. Three years of grieving for what was and trying to find a way forward.
Anyone that’s been in this undiagnosed no man’s land knows about the isolation, frustration and fear that make up the landscape. For some of us it’s worse than the illness itself. So I’m reaching out because there’s not only power in numbers … there’s comfort and acceptance as well.