What a difference a year makes!

This time last year, I was laying in the hospital with a killer headache. I had spent the night fighting convulsions. I looked like a pin cushion and we were waiting for the doctors to come to an agreement. You see, I had been sitting in a neurologists office the day before because I insisted to my endocrinologist that I was struggling with my speech and my hands had begun to tremble. Strings were pulled and I was sitting in the waiting room of the neurologist's office, but had just been told that I probably would not get to meet with him. They would run tests, but he would probably be too busy to see me. Have you ever been so cold that despite being able to keep your body from shivering, you can still feel your guts shaking inside? That is how it started with me, only I wasn't cold. The shivering worked its way to the rest of my body until I resembled someone with advanced Parkinson's. They call these myoclonic jerks. Two hours later, the woman who ran my EEG on my brain was running down the hall to insist that I be seen. With one look at me and a couple of questions, he was convinced. He had just spent the last five years studying a very rare disease that most doctors have only read about in books. Twenty four hours later, every other major disease had been ruled out, leaving no other choice but to accept the diagnosis of Hashimoto's Encephalopathy.

This time last year, we were experiencing one of the worst droughts since the dust bowl, and we had seen more than 30 straight days over 100 degrees. I awoke this morning to the sound of rain. I am sitting sipping my coffee by the window where I see once chard fields now bursting with shades of green. Eight months ago, I was starting my steroid stage down not knowing if I would survive and actually see my next birthday. I saw that birthday, and was able to celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Tuesday celebrated my youngest child's ninth birthday. We questioned at times this past year whether I would be able to be self sufficient, yet last night was able to make dinner for an amazing friend and her two little boys. As I cooked though, my sick sense of humor thought of the 80's commercial with the little girl who says, "It's shake and bake and I helped!"

Every day has not been a victory, but everyday that I have is a blessing. I have had to stop working, but have been given an opportunity to write for a local paper from home when I feel strong enough. I made it through a nasty flu and cold season while on two strong immune suppressants and with two children in my home. I had friends disappear because they could not handle the stress or drama of my illness, but have seen old friends go to great lengths to offer support and I have been blessed by strangers who have offered support to my family. I had a relative tell my mother that she was going to lose a child because of her sins, but have watched a church and Sunday school class embrace and comfort her like family.

I have yet again received more labs that show elevated antibodies signaling that another episode is imminent, and I have begun to get migraines after reading and completing simple cognitive tasks, but I am not giving up or giving in to the symptoms. I will rest and enjoy every minute I have.

Thank you sweet friends for seeing us through this year. Thank you for supporting my husband and loving on my children during the times that I have been weak. Thank you to all of the friends and family who have watched my children or given them rides so that their lives have not been completely disrupted. Thank you to everyone who has prayed for me and my family. And thank you to the Lord who has allowed me to be a mother to two incredible kids, a friend to a bunch of rock stars, a wife to an amazingly patient man, daughter to two strong and loving parents, sister to two nutty sisters who share in my sick sense of humor, an insanely lucky aunt to a bunch of great nieces and nephews, neighbor to a community that never ceases to amaze me. Thank you!