The aftermath....

Let me start by filling in some blanks...I have no followers on this blog, but in case anyone reads this one day, I'd like to apologize for the time that has lapsed between postings.

The last time I wrote, I was 7 months pregnant and in horrible pain.

My daughter, Melody Soul, "Mello" was born on June 14, 2010 at 12:48am. She was born in perfect health, depite my condition, and the multitude of medications and treatments that she and I both undured during my pregnancy.

Not many people have seen me in months, but, I'm walking. Rather well, I might add.

So, I need to give credit where credit is due. Doctor Brian Salter, Neurologist in Annapolis, MD; had the patience and understanding, and the curiosity to test me above and beyond just my symptoms. He CARED. Yes, I said it. I found a doctor that CARED.

Not only did he put in the time and effort, but he has surrounded himself with the most AMAZING office staff. If you are a patient with a chronic illness, you understand how important that is. Pushing prescriptions through after your insurance has denied them, over and over, moral support, and the fact that all of them know your kids names, and what else is going on in your life.

It's been one hell of a ride, and with a lifelong illness, I will never forget him, or the girls in the office. Denise, who once told a chief hospital employee exactly where he could go if he didn't help me with my spinal headache, is a beautifully crafted mouthpiece with the biggest heart on the planet. Alicia, the woman with the golden paperwork touch. If she can't get something approved and organised, no one can. And Margie...she just makes you want a hug. And she will actually give you one when she knows you really need it!

Doctors Brian Kahan, Richard Genato, and thier staff, Dr. Rivera, Dr. McLellan, and Dr. Kaufmann...Center for Pain Management in Annapolis. Dr Kahan was the one to refer me to Dr. Salter. He took the time to know that my symptoms werent typical, and wanted to see me get better.

Dr. Kahan's office deserves more than just a thank you. Not only have they helped me deal with pain through this entire ordeal, they also helped my husband, Doug.

Every doctor on his staff has a passion for what they are doing to help people get out of pain. They don't just hand you pain meds, and tell you to suck it up...they find the root of the problem, and fix it. They change tactics when necessary, and make sure that YOU are happy with your pain level. If something needs to change, they figure out how to modify your treatment so you can be comfortable. They are truly a dying breed in this office, mixing medicine and empathy.

Again, the staff, is perfection. As thier patient, I feel comfortable knowing I am cared about, not just a file on a shelf. Jennifer, the paperwork guru, gets it all done, and never forgets to call you back when she says she is going to. (and she has the most distinct laugh I have ever heard!) Debbie, seems to do a little bit of everything there, and smiles while she does it. Every girl in that office knows us, and I feel at home every time I'm there.

Like I said, thank you doesn't quite cover my gratitude, so if you are reading this, and live in my area, and need a Neurologist, or Pain Specialist...These are the places to go.

If you are still reading this; the update.



My treatments started to work after the 4th dose. I'm not a very patient person, and hate to admit this now, but I almost gave up after my third treatment didn't seem to work.

As quickly as I lost my function in my hand and leg, I started to regain function. It was horribly painful at first, and remember, I was 8 months pregnant. (I was a little heavier than my starting weight!)

Since I had been sort of dragging my right side around, when I regained some function, the weight on the muscles and joints that hadn't been used in a while was quite a sight. If you know what a pregancy waddle looks like, try to imagine that, but while holding a 50 pound weight on one side. I looked pretty silly when I walked...

But in this enire ordeal, the only thing I didn't worry about was pride. I didn't care how stupid I looked trying to walk. I was walking...and I was never going to take advantage of that ever again!

So, my doctors, Physical Therapy and home care nurses helped me regain about 80% of my normal function.

It was amazingly hard. But like I said before, I have Doug. Doug and Patience helped me thru this, suffered with me, held my hand, and made me a better person. So, I did it.

And just as I was retiring the wheelchair, I crossed the 9 month mark of pregnancy.

We had planned to move before the baby was born, into a smaller, more finacially managable house, and then; LIFE happened again.

During the move, my husband ruptured a disc in his lower back. (For those of you that understand, his L5S1)

It had been herniated, and we were dealing with that, but something pushed it over the edge, and it ruptured into his sciatic nerve.

Just as I had begun to walk again, my husband couldn't.

We got him an MRI, and he was in emergency back surgery within 24 hours.

So, months later, my husband and I can walk together again.

More to follow...

Onward and upward...

Well, I believe my IVIG treatments may be working a bit. I was skeptical at first, because when my disease fist started, it was intermittent.

So, when I realized I could move my big toe, I waited to see if was only a fleeting moment...

It turns out, it kind of was. By the end of the week, I could move all 5 toes on my right foot, and if I concentrate really hard, I can get my right ankle to "roll"

The weird part; I will look down at my toes, attempt to make them move, and they do...BUT...they don't do what it is that I am telling them. A bit creepy, but when we spoke to the Neuro, he explained that all of my nerve fiber sheaths are MISSING. So, as they grow back, things start to fire, but sometimes in the wrong sequence. And, even though I can move them, I can't FEEL them move. So I have to make a conscious effort to wiggle them, and watch.

The hard part; As my nerves have started firing, I have endured some pretty bad pain. Pain I have never had before, and is VERY hard to describe. I have been told this is "nerve pain". I can't reach it, touch it or stretch to make it go away. There is no icepack, no heat pad, nothing that relieves this pain.

What is odd about the pain is; I welcome it. With open arms.

18 months ago, I started losing sensations. Slowly but surely, this disease ate away at my feeling, my hot and cold tolerance, and then progressed to my muscle tissue, and I lost my reflexes on my right side. I still can't feel the right side of my face...but, I was never in PAIN. I would drop things, forget things, and I broke quite a few toes, but NO PAIN. Odd, isn't it?

So now, as I write this, my right arm literally feels like someone has covered it in ICY HOT, and then set it ablaze. That's the closest description I can come up with.

My toes, I still can't feel, but my right leg has what I have heard called "CORE" pain. Hence the "I can't reach it"...

Core pain is a conundrum to me. I want so bad to rub my leg and make it feel better, but try to imagine not being able to tell that your hand is on your own leg.

So, there are medications out there for nerve pain...BUT; I can't take any of them.

Being 7 months pregnant certainly has it's draw backs.

So, like I said, I welcome he pain. Any sensation is better than nothing to me, but it's tough.

I think it's going to be an uphill battle from here, but at least I'm back in the fight.

Before this week, I felt like I couldn't even battle my own disease, for I had no hope that it was going to get better until after the baby was born...Now, I can start fighting.

I will beat this. I understand that, for the rest of my life I will have this disease, I will live in it's lurking shadows, waiting for it to pounce again...

But right now I'd like to beat it into submission, now that I have learned what I need to do with my life.

I want to be able to pick up my own daughters without being watched like a hawk, just in case I drop them.

I will beat this. I understand that I may not get everything I lost back. I appreciate now what I had, and am fine if I can't have it all.

Just the ability to "stand on my own two feet" would be nice...

3 months and counting until the new baby girl arrives.(if not sooner!)

I have given myself a pep talk, and I will be ready. I will give my poor husband a break. He needs me back. I need me back. And my girls need me.

One hell of a week, and it's only Wednesday...

It's 5:42am, and I woke up today. Baby is healthy, kicking like crazy, and VERY successfully giving me heartburn.

My daughter is snoring softly in her bed, in the same key and tempo as her father in the next room.

My husband, also snoring, but not so softly...(see above; 5:42 am)

All of these things make me happy. I am awake, and we are all safe, at home, and happy.

This week so far has shown me that, very simply, I have everything to live for, and have NOTHING to complain about.

I have taken a moment this morning to mourn the loss of our friends Craig, and Dan Moore.

2 friends of ours have died in the same week. Craig, lost his battle to Cancer Sunday, and Dan's heart gave up. Both were too young.

Craig left us at 36 years old. He was a beautiful person, who loved to give me all kinds of grief. He was a friend to many, and inspiration to all, and a foul mouthed, bullheaded music lover, who even in death, was able to make me laugh so hard I cried...

Dan was a friend and mentor to Doug. For all of you that know Doug, you have heard his expressive "It's just got a little wiggle in it's giggle," and "I've just got to put the zig on the zag"

Those were Danny Moore ISMS... He taught Doug, and plenty of other people, the art of a patience threshold.

He once threatened to nail Doug's cell phone to a wall if he didn't get off of it while on a job site...He would wait for Doug to fall asleep in his work truck, and slap him on the chest, pointing at a flock of ducks and yell "LOOK DOUG, CHICKENS!!!"

I felt close to him, but only through Doug's stories...I met him plenty of times, and can honestly say, he scared the hell out of me. He was a large man, with some of the biggest hands I have ever seen...but he ended up being an even bigger teddy bear than I could imagine.


So, I saw my husbands heart break twice this week, and for once, I need to be he rock.

Much easier said than done, but he has been so strong throughout this last year, and he just needs a break.

Life is too precious. We all say it, but it doesn't really mean anything unless you actually appreciate it.

Burying two friends will reconfirm your commitment to your life.

We are all survivors. It doesn't have to be Cancer, or a heart attack. You are a survivor if you woke up today, so start acting like it.

So, from one survivor to another, take a walk today, because you can.

Call that friend you have been delaying, because sometimes you don't get a second chance.

Don't say things because you can apologize later.

Just live.

The things I took for granted...

A small list of things I miss...

Being able to feel Doug's hair...and face...just his skin, with my hands...

-losing your sense of touch, SUCKS. I miss wiping Patience's tears, testing the bath water, and being trusted to cut an apple with a kitchen knife...

I miss the rain on my face...and I never really knew it mattered.

I miss pacing back and forth on a phone call...

I miss how easy it was being ABLE to just run into the grocery store to get milk, without the hassle of a wheelchair, or having Doug go get it.

I miss independence.

I miss work, in EVERY capacity...swinging a hammer, designing someones future bathroom, and the feel of textiles, paint and new carpet...

I miss being taken seriously. I REALLY miss being taken seriously.

I was always the small one, the girl on a job site, the odd "man" out. But I made myself known.
I always demanded the respect I deserved, and fought for equality in my line of work for everyone; unless of course you were a lazy bastard, I made no time for you...

To this day, I don't know if I believe in God. Not in the sense that there is a man in the clouds with a roster of checks and balances, waiting for me to say a "Hail Mary", anyway...

I don't want to think that some being has control over all that I do, and have done, or that "HE" granted me with my life, and the people in it. If that is so, He and I have to have a serious chat about my childhood...

BUT, what I do know...If you asked me to slow down and look at my life, to appreciate it; I may have just glanced, shrugged my shoulders, and said, "Everything's fine." And I would have moved on...going my typical 150 Miles Per Hour...

But if you had to make me slow down, it was going to take something BIG. No, a small accident just wouldn't do...A cancer scare; still wouldn't stop me. My pet dying; nope. My brother getting hooked on drugs, again; nope. They simply didn't work...

So, if a "divine being" needed to slow me down, and show me what was really important in life...

First, take my memory...My ability to concentrate and remember what I, and everyone else was supposed to be doing. And make sure I can't focus AT ALL...

Then, take my hands...my calloused, hard working hands. They will be covered in paint on the day they are rendered useless, because I am stubborn, and I have taped my fingers together to continue to hold a paint brush..

Then, my feet. Make it hard for me to put shoes on by just wiggling my toes, make me have to stop, sit down, and make sure the shoe is actually ON, because I can't feel it.

If that doesn't work, make sure I have to limp...There is nothing more convincing than a feisty female telling you what to do, while she is limping towards you, clutching one hand, and dragging one foot...

Oh, and If I still wont listen...If I still don't appreciate what I have;

Take my VOICE; the one I just recently found...my ability to stand out, make music, and force people to listen...

Take my sensation...my muscles...BUT: only take one side of my body...the strong one, so I HAVE to learn how to make the weak side stronger..(it will give me something to do when I'm bored)

Oh, and if you only take one side; it will confuse the doctors, so they can look at me like I'm crazy, or better yet, they can actually TELL me I'm crazy... They can run ridiculous tests, draw pint after pint of blood...they will take tissue and muscle and skin biopsies, and CT scan me UNTIL I DO HAVE SOMETHING WRONG...I will have to endure spinal taps gone wrong, deal with labs who LOSE spinal fliud, and then, just when I'm on the right track...

I will find out I am pregnant.

And then, I will have to fight harder than I ever had to...to be taken seriously. Because it's not just me who needs my body anymore...so does SHE.

And just when I thought I was getting the point, you can prove me wrong.

If you had to slow me down, that's what would need to happen.

And it did.

So, now I realize, GOD or not; this HAD to happen. No, I am not rendered with a terminal disease. Yes, I can die from this disorder, but I won't. I CAN'T. My life, my body, and my mind, needed to be appreciated for what they could REALLY do...

Instead of being a vessel for me to succeed in life, they are now a vessel for my child.

I was selfish.

I don't need to paint houses to prove my self worth.

I don't need to run ahead of the pack, to stick out in a crowd.

And I don't need to yell, or SING to be heard.

I don't need to walk to get where I need to be.

I AM where I need to be.

But I didn't know...I never slowed down enough to listen...so, I firmly believe:

This HAD to happen.

A new Day...pregnancy, life and health update. March 2010

Yesterday, I had a bit of a mental check-out, so I figured, if I write it all down, it may help a bit.

I feel much better today, and thankfully yesterday's break was short lived.

If you have ever been pregnant, or have known someone close to you that was pregnant, you can relate. Sometimes the flow of emotions is a flood vs. a levy.

In my situation, I'm surprised it didn't come sooner.

I have a very distinct memory of my pregnancy with Patience...(Doug and I still joke about this)

***We were living with my mother in 2004, and it was a Saturday. Doug's friend Jonny was going to visit, and I needed to find him a flight, to and from San Diego. I was in the office, hollering to Doug questions I needed answered to finish booking the flights...

"Doug, what days are easiest for him to fly?"

(from another room, he yells back..)

"I have no idea."

ME-"How many days is he staying?"

"I don't know"

ME-"Can you call him and ask what is easiest for him?"

"He's at work, and this needs to be booked today!"

ME-"How am I supposed to book this with no information?"

(With a coy tone to his voice, Doug replies in his own fashion)

"Do you really need help with a simple flight reservation?"

I thought I was going to kill him. When I walked out of the office, he and my mother were chowing down on eggs, bacon, toast, and some pancakes.

I looked around for a plate with food on it that MAY have been set aside for me, but NOTHING. I pulled the typical female response of huffing and slamming cabinet doors, and when I got no response, I finally asked..."Am I in the TWILIGHT ZONE?"

Doug responded with a giggle, "The pan's still hot."

For some unknown hormonal reason, I LOST it. I, of course, took his response to mean..."Make it your damn self!" (Thats how most of us women work. We can twist what you said into the most horrendous of offenses, and stick with it.)

So, I warped into *SUPER BITCH* in 0.4 seconds. (Record time for me)

I screamed things like "I can't believe you, you make HER breakfast, and you leave the mother of your child to STARVE?!?"

I may have even said something about raising a baby on my own, and that I couldn't be with someone so selfish.

I even went as far as to pack an overnight bag, and get in my car!

What was Doug doing?...If you know Doug, first...imagine his low level belly laugh, and his coy smile that only curl the corners of his lips, but pronounce his dimples, and then imagine how he is when he tries NOT to laugh..

Then, imagine him sitting on the front steps of my mothers house, watching me spool up, and making a very grand effort to validate my feelings.

Yes, he tried...VERY HARD...to say the perfect man things, like..."Honey, you're right, I should have made you breakfast, but I wanted it to be fresh..." and "I understand you're upset right now, maybe you should eat."

I, again, took these statements to be patronizing, and started to cry, uncontrollably.

Then, as I sat in my car to leave, I realized I had nowhere to go.

What was I gonna do, go to my mothers? I WAS ALREADY THERE!
She had watched this whole thing go down, and somehow made herself invisible.

So, now overwhelmed with the reality that I *MIGHT* have over-reacted a *little*, I felt stupid. And now that I felt stupid, I got mad. So, in the front seat of my car, 6 months pregnant, hungry, and completely defeated, I proceeded to beat the steering wheel out of anger.

I wish I had a video of this entire occurrence. (well, maybe not, because I may have been institutionalized)

Doug, in the way that he does, came out, calmed me down, and didn't point out all of the crazy things I did. He actually apologized, because he knew that if I felt any more stupid, I may regress back into the psychotic animal I had just become.

When I could finally formulate a sentence without sniffling like a 5 year old, we went in to the kitchen, and sat down.

Doug, with the dimple smile, says "Hey baby, you want some eggs?"

We laughed for an hour or so after that...and every couple of months for the past 5 years.

Every time I get a little flustered, Doug will jokingly run into the kitchen and grab the eggs from the fridge.



That's my memory, so pity every pregnant woman you meet, because we have NO control when that stuff happens. We become another person, and leave our sane self behind to clean up the mess...


Anyway, I use this memory to calm myself down during this pregnancy. It made me giggle just writing it all down.

Our situation in the last 6 years has certainly changed a bit. Back then, even while pregnant, I was installing tile floors, painting houses, and building additions...

Patience was in Home Depot when she was 2 days old...

Now, we are looking into cribs with handicapped accessible doors, so I can get to my newborn daughter. Strollers I can push with an electric wheelchair, and all kinds of other accessible stuff.

When I had Patience, I felt inadequate. I never thought I'd be a mother, and who knew what I would do with a GIRL!

Now, I know how easy I had it. Now faced with a whole new set of challenges, we face adaptation in a whole new light.

Doug, is, and always will be, Doug. He is the perfect example of how us humans should be. I firmly believe that. He has his flaws, sure, but he has stood by me, in sickness and in health, and through thick and thin. He makes this easier for me.

Just when I think I can't handle getting sicker, he does something to make me feel like he can't live without ME. He makes me feel like I am still worth something, even when I can't even handle the simplest task.

He asks for nothing in return. He never has. So, for those of you who have been saved by Doug...please pass his love forward to someone else.

You know who you are. The tire on your truck may be from one of his vehicles. The duct tape on your radiator hose was from our garage, and the guitar in your house was probably his at one point, and he gave it to you, so you could have the gift of music.

As of today, I am 6 months pregnant. Still in a wheelchair, and I have nurses at my house 60% of the week. Some come for Physical Therapy, and others to continue my treatments. I have IV poles in my office, and Sharps containers in my closet.

I haven't seen the inside of my pickup truck in over 6 months.

The new baby is PERFECTLY HEALTHY, and is tolerating my treatments, steroids, and massive medication regimen just fine.

Patience is perfect as well. Just turned 5 in January, and is the woman of the house now. She helps Daddy clean up around the house, hangs her own laundry, and is doing dishes as much as she can!

We make sure she never feels scared about my condition, but we also educate her on emergency procedures. She is very smart, and loves the fact she is going to be a big sister soon.

Doug and I are going to have to move very soon, in order to stop the outflow of money. We just can't afford this apartment anymore, so we are starting to look for a rental with one level somewhere in the county. Who knew it would be that hard to find a house suitable for a wheelchair?!

Money is tight (non-existent) and Doug is busting his butt at work, and I will start booking his gigs soon. I can still use the phone!

So, although it seems dire at times, I still have the perfect life. I have the perfect husband, and the most precious child a mother could ask for.

My friends are there when I need them, and some have gone to the mat for me, to the highest extent. I will update more soon, and I will be posting more and more pictures on FaceBook that I haven't caught up with in a while...

Thanks for reading...

CIPD: A confusing, and very frustrating disease...

So, I opened this blog account months ago, in order to rock a few boats, complain about today's customer service issues...

But life went haywire for me. So, I figured I would use it to update family, friends, and those who care, about my journey.

Once a place to rant, now a place to make my statements, and tell my story. I am afraid I won't be able to speak that well, so typing is what I have for now.

It is the 3rd day of a new year. A new decade for that matter, and I just turned 29 years old. I have a beautiful little girl, Patience Grace Day, and the best husband a girl could have, Douglas.

And, I am now 4 months pregnant with our second child. Timing never was my best quality.

So, I'll start from where I believe this all started...I assumed this started 18 months ago, but armed with new information, I had some previous medical issues that may now be the real beginning of this hell I now call my life.

I found this in my research, and with all the fluff about the appendix having a purpose, I am convinced that my auto immune disorder is connected to my recent bout with Chronic Appendicitis. (its kind of a long read, to continue to the story, just scroll down)

http://www.medical-hypotheses.com/article/S0306-9877%2804%2900272-5/abstract

So, 3 years ago, I dealt with 14 months of pain. Horrible abdominal pain, that was treated as more than one condition. I was operated on 3 times, was found to have Endometriosis, which I was treated for, (with a medication that shut down my ovaries)...I was told by countless doctors that they had no idea, sent to specialists, and was referred to a Psychiatrist by the top pain management center in the State of Maryland. I had to be crazy, all because they had never seen it before...

Anyway, I took it upon myself to research, become my own advocate, and I'm glad I did.

I had plenty of backup and help throughout this. Doug kept the house afloat, and Don (my friend and roommate at the time) acted as a shoulder for Doug, and a backboard for me to vent, and bounce ideas off of. My friends Chris and Matt helped me cope with my fears of being on narcotics for as long as I was.

I printed a list, of 118 conditions that had my symptoms, or variations of them. I started at the bottom, and requested test after test. My 3 laparoscopies covered most of the testing, due to all of the blood work they had to do beforehand.

Anyway, after 14 months, I convinced a surgeon to take out my appendix. I had EVERY symptom, except for inflammation that SHOULD show up on a CT scan. I went into his office, armed with studies from medical journals, and a signed document stating that I would not sue him if in fact he pulled out a healthy appendix.

I was booked for surgery 2 days later.

Since this was my 3rd abdominal surgery in under 10 months, I was a professional patient at this point. I knew what to expect, how long I'd be there, and exactly what to tell the anesthesiologist. (I'm one of those people that gets sick, no matter what, after General Anesthesia)

My appendix was removed, and afterwards, my surgical pain was pretty bad. I had built up a pretty massive tolerance to Percocet, (due to the daily pain I was in) I was taking 10mg pills for over 6 months now, and they only give 5 mg pills for surgical pain. Needless to say, I ran out quickly.

I won't go into the horrible details of how bad it is when you stop taking pain meds.

I will say, however, that 3 days after surgery, I wasn't in pain anymore. It was incredible. I actually broke down, and cried. 14 months of daily pain, and now just a touch of uncomfortable from the operation.

Over the time I was in pain, I has developed a "tic". My face and neck would twitch, especially when I got frustrated, or upset...pretty much anytime my blood pressure went up, and if you know me, that happens a lot.

After being in pain for so long, you tend to ignore anything that doesn't hurt. It really didn't matter to me, as long as I wasn't in pain.

Over time, I started gearing back up, and went and applied for my MHIC again. I was going to build my remodeling company once and for all.

At this point, I wasn't in pain anymore, so NOTHING was going to stand in my way. I took every side job I could think of, and went to work for a friend who had a Pressure Washing company, staining decks.

I had already started losing feeling in my hand at this point, but due the fact I was staining decks, I assumed it was carpel tunnel syndrome. I had it before, and it wasn't going to stop me know. I was wrong.

The feeling loss in my hand, over the course of a couple of months, turned into grip loss. It was intermittent at this point, heat and stress aggravated it. So, a slammed schedule in the heat of the summer wasn't a good combo.

As months went by, my hand got worse. I taped fingers together to make them grip better, and learned how to paint and stain left handed.

After a couple more months, I started losing feeling in my right foot. Just tingling, numbness, and intermittent pain. I had massive short term memory loss as well.

When I went to a neurologist, he ran some blood, all came back normal, and I was told I had ADHD. Yup, my memory loss was caused by Attention Deficit issues.

As to my foot, because my husband has dealt with disc issues in his spine for years, I assumed sciatica, and went and saw a pain specialist. I was given a few rounds of cortico-steroids in my lower back and hip. These seemed to work great for my lower back pain, but did nothing for the numbness.

Fast forward- I continued to see this pain specialist, and when I didn't improve, an MRI of my brain was ordered.

This was my first round of actually being scared. My MRI came back "abnormal". My pain specialist, asked me to go see a young neurologist by my home. MS was now on the table, and I was really scared.

When I first met this doctor, I wasn't in that bad of shape by my standards. I have somehow worked with my hands in a purely physical job my whole life. Injuries were second nature to me. My daughters middle name is "Grace" for a reason. (one of the qualities I have never possessed)

Tests were run. And by tests, I mean EVERY test a Neurologist can run. Blood, tissue, skin, more MRI's. Good times.

Finally, my skin and nerve biopsy came back. It seemed that all of my nerve fibers were "demylenated" (the sheath around the nerve fiber was missing, or degenerating)

This finally explained my feeling loss. But, as the months passed, my condition got worse.

Not only was I still dealing with the tic, and grip loss, I had started to limp.

I could no longer feel my foot touch the ground. I had to listen for it, or watch, to make sure it would land properly. I broke a couple of toes now and then, and couldn't feel it.

Then, came the night that I realized I was late. And by late, I mean pregnant. I took a few store bought pregnancy tests, and when they came back positive, I took more.

So, needless to say, although exited, another road bump was thrown in for my poor doctor to work around.

So, an LP (spinal tap) was ordered. -This was a horrible scenario as well. It should have been a simple procedure, but I was rendered paralyzed with a spinal headache. I had to receive a blood patch to close the leak in my spine, which helped considerably.

As my pregnancy progressed, so did my symptoms. My entire right leg lost all sensation, and I no longer had any reflexes upon neurological exam. My vision would blur, sporadically, and as of the day I finish writing this, my entire right side has lost sensory feeling. My face, back and abdomen as well.

I have been receiving IVIG after my spinal fluid helped with the diagnosis of CIDP. I have a random varient of the disease, that attacked one side of my body. My IVIG has been combined with IV and oral steriods, because my brain tends to swell every time I have a treatment.

So, I tried a walker, and fell on my face. I have a cane, but use it primarily to stand, move about my apartment, and get into the shower.

So, a wheelchair it is. I rely on it heavily, but am still defiant enough to not want to,while I still have a tiny bit of motor skill left. I can still go about 10 feet without it.

I know that this is still the beginning of my journey. My pregnancy has most likely exacerbated my condition, and I will hopefully be able to get it into remission after I deliver.

The baby (we just recently found out it was a GIRL) is fine, and has tolerated my treatments well. I may have to deliver early, due to the steroids, and will most likely have to have a C-section due to the feeling loss.

I have so many postitive things in my life, that for some reason, even though this has been hell, I continue to march. I refuse to let my daughter see me feel sorry for myself, and this has made me a stronger person.

I am blessed with wonderful friends, and family, and will pull through this with their help.

I will write more after a while. Thanks for reading...