What kind of man stands by a lady he has been with a short time through diagnosis’ including Multiple Sclerosis and Psychosis? A good man, writes Naomi Snell.
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At the prime of my life on a night out partying with girlfriends at a local bar Steve sauntered into my life across a packed dance floor. I was embracing life as a single girl and had little clue that what could have been mistaken for a drunken kiss, was in fact the beginnings of a budding romance. I wasn’t even concerned when I found my new found “friend” sculling a bottle of Mylanta for heartburn on the dance floor with a red bull and vodka in the other hand. I actually found that strangely attractive- that a man would push through his own bodies limitations like that. We lived only minutes from each other, were both animal lovers (of the pet variety) and followed the same football team.
Steve and I spent all our spare time together- me finishing my university degree and him working long hours associated with the building trade. I was hesitant at first to get involved in a relationship however, his smile, his charm, his honesty and his big heart won me over. We became “an official item” not long after. Together Steve and I could talk and laugh for hours… it was the perfect love.
Within the span of two years dating I experienced the turmoil of a health crisis. With a sudden onset it began with crippling neck and back pain, and my knees collapsing beneath me. Next came minor tremors, and shaking hands and I was referred to a doctor for medical testing. The pain was so bad at night I couldn’t get to work, or walk to the train station. It was as though my legs were carrying wet sandbags on each foot and my knee caps would grind together almost audibly. Medical staff were baffled by the sudden onset and severity of the symptoms, one even cheerfully remarking that I was, ‘a case for Dr. House.
Tests revealed my inflammatory markers were up, indicating that I had some kind of auto-immune condition. By this stage, walking was a struggle and showering was only possible sitting down. I started convulsing and having episodic black outs. After weeks of waiting to see a neurologist, I had an MRI that showed a lesion of something similar to demyelination on my brain. Demyelination is a symptom suffered by patients with Multiple Sclerosis (MS).
Desperate for answers, I finally pressed the doctor hard, “Is it MS?” Without a flinch she indicated that it was. “Well, if it looks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck…” I later sobbed, “I’m going to be spoon fed by 30 and in a home by 40.” My legs may as well have been chopped off beneath me right then and there. The neurologist put me on a cocktail of medications; Cymbalta and tramadol for nerve and back pain and prednisolone which was a steroid to combat the inflammation. I went about life thinking that I had MS, believing I was destined for an early grave, and that my demise was imminent. Remarkably, Steve rallied by my side. He and his family supported me in every way. And when I looked like a puffer-fish from the steroids he reassured me I was beautiful. He was with me every step I could or couldn’t take and went to extraordinary lengths (including adopting a dog) to cheer me up when he was at work.
I regained some strength on the steroids, but we were still of the full belief I had Multiple Sclerosis (M.S). Steve walked beside me for the M.S fundraising for research walk and I stared pessimistically down the barrel of a future in a wheelchair. Regardless, Steve proposed to be on a special trip to Queensland for my birthday. My heightened spirits were only lifted momentarily though until it became apparent that I what I was suffering was actually an adverse reaction to a controversial vaccination. I became angry to the core for the time of my life that had been wasted, and the lack of empathy for my plight. I was desperate for justice over what transpired so every bit of my mid- twenties was put aside when I contemplated launching a class action against the pharmaceutical company responsible for my pain and suffering.
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Steve was understanding if not supportive to begin with, but began becoming increasingly concerned for my welfare when I began reporting strange events including messages sent to me via social media from fake profiles that included “10 things to do before you die”. With or without reason, I became paranoid. As legal proceedings were to begin I began receiving several phone calls a day from people who refused to speak. It got to the point that I stopped answering and removed my sim card altogether. I stopped going to work. I stopped opening the blinds.
Steve was worried about me, sought medical advice and back up while trying to feed me anything of nutritious value. When he finally found a pre typed suicide note I had written he was forced to see me committed into psychiatric care. He still visited me daily and reassured me I would make it through the “psychosis” and nervous breakdown I had experienced. The doctors did warn that I may have permanent deficits and it was possible that I had schizophrenia or Bipolar Type II. Steve waited for the real me to return, which took years. He was never ashamed of me but proud in how I was coping with life’s ordeal.
My recovery was a slow and arduous process- three steps forward, two steps back, but I fought on. I returned to work. Where I felt Western medicine had a deficit I sought out Eastern medicine. I needed holistic therapy including spiritual guidance to overcome the myriad emotional issues. I learned that life is what we make it, and what we believe it to be. We all contribute to a collective consciousness so if we hear and see and speak only negativity, it is recreated. If we want to change our world, we must do it for ourselves. Not everyone gets granted the second chances at life that I have been so I intend on utilizing mine to the fullest. My new journey includes having my story heard, partly for affirmation, and partly to give others hope in the physical, mental and emotional recovery process. I slowly learned to accept what had happened to me as part of my life journey from which I would learn valuable things about the world. I learned to accept how I’d changed as a person. I’m hoping to be completed weaning off my medication sometime next year.
When adversity strikes you learn who your real friends and family are. Steve has always been a stoic beacon of hope for me. He gave me the courage and confidence in myself that I could undertake the journey into motherhood. We now have an almost one year old son. We’re looking forward to getting married in three months. We’re so looking forward to spending the rest of our forever together…