July 26, 2023 | By Rebecca Jablon

Introduction from the IAES Blog Team:

It is our honor and pleasure to bring to you the story of a young boy’s journey into the uncertain and terrifying world of being diagnosed with  Autoimmune Encephalitis from the heart of a mother. A mother who thru faith, resilience, determination and, above all, love found help across the miles and a fierce desire to assist others and raise awareness!

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Whether you are a parent or grandparent to a child who has been thrown into the world of autoimmune encephalitis, or into the world of rare disabilities ( or a physician, therapist, special education teacher, or social worker…) I was moved to publish my story “To Add a Miracle” to provide you with further insight and strength.  I wrote with absolute candor and honesty, sprinkled with a bit of humor, in an attempt to accurately portray the emotional rollercoaster that we have experienced.

Our son, Yehuda’s, steep fall into the world of autoimmune encephalitis began just days after the holiday of Hanukkah, the Holiday of Miracles, four- years ago, at the age of five.   He was born just days before the Holiday of Hanukkah.  As I approached the Hanukkah season this year and Yehuda’s ninth birthday, I suddenly felt a strong drive to sit down.  And to write.  And to write more.  Perhaps this is not a coincidence.

At the beginning of our journey/ FALL into the unknown, the International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society stood as one of the lights illuminating our absolute confusion and darkness.  The brave volunteers, often facing current or past struggles of their own, held out lights of information, direction, medical advice, and most importantly glimmers of hope, for a family struggling far away in Israel, where knowledge of autoimmune encephalitis in the medical world is even more limited.  At the time, I was able to connect with only one mother living here in Israel, who was able to hold my hand and guide me on our journey.   I gathered additional armor and strength from the mothers whom I could reach out to through the AE website.   I was ready to grab onto anything and anyone who understood. I was desperate.  Who or What had overnight stolen our son’s words, skills, and identity?

How can a mother accept an unknown or rare diagnosis?

How can she grapple with an experimental and even further unknown treatment plan? 

How can a mother not throw up her hands in total despair when top neurologists eventually throw up their hands?

How can she survive when she screams out, yet no one can answer,

“What suddenly happened to my five- year old son?”

While many books have been written highlighting the challenges of raising a child with disabilities, as you all are painfully aware, autoimmune encephalitis is a recently discovered and often misunderstood illness with a shocking onset.  My writing of To Add a Miracle was fueled by my intense desire to spread awareness and hope, to strengthen mothers, fathers, and families, as they bravely journey toward recovery or increased acceptance and strength.

I will never forget when my then five-year-old Yehuda  desperately called out to me as I left his bedroom one night, marking the beginning of our descent into the unknown,

“Imma (Hebrew for Mother), my brain is broken.  If I die, will you…”

Total confusion, darkness, and piles of despair.  I wish that at the sudden onset of Yehuda’s illness, I had known about, and did not have to wait to discover the collective voices of the International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society, to call out to me, and to hear my cries… to help me to not feel totally alone in my struggles. 

It is my hope and prayer that my book will provide you with an additional dose of strength in order to navigate the bumpy ride, that is our lives with special needs children.  It is my dream to be able to continue to help other parents, using all of the tools, both medical and sometimes emotional, that I have gathered upon our journey with Yehuda.  As I describe in the book, there is nothing that gives me more comfort than seeing another child and family progress and advance, even if that particular treatment did not advance Yehuda. 

Someone recently asked me, “So what do you mean by adding a miracle?”  Please order and delve into my book to find out.   There is no quick answer.

Thank you to all of the administrators and volunteers of the International  Autoimmune Encephalitis Society, for allowing me to take part in their holy work in my attempt to spread awareness of autoimmune encephalitis, through the writing of my book.

Book Description:

To Add A Miracle details with raw honesty, sprinkled with moments of humor and laughter, the dark and light shadows of the Jablon family’s journey; the story also highlights the tremendous strength of Yehuda’s siblings and selected “messengers of miracles” along the way.

With no filters, the story tells the author’s emotional journey as a mother in distress, facing piles of despair, culminating in a greater acceptance of the unacceptable, and a powerful recognition of the miracles that Yehuda has added to her family’s life.

While many books have been written highlighting the challenges of raising a child with disabilities, autoimmune encephalitis is a recently discovered and often misunderstood illness with a shocking onset.

The writing of To Add A Miracle was fueled by the author’s intense desire to spread awareness and hope, to strengthen mothers, fathers, families, and medical practitioners, as they bravely journey toward recovery or increased acceptance and strength.

Rebecca Jablon, the author of To Add A Miracle, tells the story of her sudden and dramatic fall into the world of autoimmune encephalitis, and resulting diagnosis of autism for her son, Yehuda.

• How can a mother accept an unknown or rare diagnosis?
• How can she grapple with an experimental and even further unknown treatment plan?
• How can a mother not throw up her hands in total despair when top neurologists eventually throw up their hands?
• How can she survive when she screams out, yet no one can answer, “What suddenly happened, overnight, to my five-year-old son?!!”

No stranger to the world of rare illnesses, Yehuda’s sudden overnight descent into the unknown rocked the author’s family. Who or What had stolen her son’s words, skills, and identity?

Click here or the image below to subscribe to our mailing list :

Your generous Donations allow IAES to continue our important work and save lives! 

On June 16 th, 2022, Tabitha Orth, President and Founder of International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society officially became the 7,315 th “point of light”. Recognized for the volunteer work she and IAES has done to spark change and improve the world for those touched by Autoimmune Encephalitis. The award was founded by President George H.W. Bush in 1990.

 Become an Advocate by sharing your story. It may result in accurate diagnosis for someone suffering right now who is yet to be correctly identified. Submit your story with two photos to IAES@autoimmune-encephalitis.org

International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society (IAES), home of the AEWarrior®, is the only Family/Patient-centered organization that assists members from getting a diagnosis through to recovery and the many challenges experienced in their journey. Your donations are greatly appreciated and are the direct result of IAES’ ability to develop the first product in the world to address the needs of patients, Autoimmune Encephalitis Trivia Playing Cards. Every dollar raised allows us to raise awareness and personally help Patients, Families, and Caregivers through their Journey with AE to ensure that the best outcomes can be reached. Your contribution to our mission will help save lives and improve the quality of life for those impacted by AE. 

For those interested in face masks, clothing, mugs, and other merchandise, check out our AE Warrior Store!  This online shop was born out of the desire for the AE patient to express their personal pride in fighting such a traumatic disease and the natural desire to spread awareness. Join our AE family and help us continue our mission to support patients, families and caregivers while they walk this difficult journey.  

June 28, 2023 | By M Ledferd

Introduction from the IAES Blog Team:

The staff at IAES brings to you the inspirational thoughts and feelings of a mighty AE Warrior shortly after his AE journey began. M Ledferd has put into words with heartfelt elegance the way we have all felt at one point or another on our journey. His gift with prose has brought to life our deepest feelings and resonated with our hearts and minds. We hope you enjoy this as much as we have! Thank you M!

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For those AE survivors, let gratitude carry us. For the caretakers, bless you. For those still struggling, please keep fighting the good fight. We are all here for you.

When I first awoke in the hospital, I felt like a 90-year-old man. A weak, tired old man with no autonomy. A man that could barely move or speak. A man at the end of his life.

Coming in and out of consciousness, I had a lot to think about. (Because I had nothing else to do.)

I realized that people generally saw their lives in stages: a beginning, middle and end. With a middle age that seemed to go on forever. That’s because we have no idea when the end is near. It’s hard to gauge and probably doesn’t even exist in most people’s minds. We simply can’t fathom it. It’s so unknown and far away. But as sure as the sky is blue it eventually reaches us all.

We’re all so different yet all the same. We go from rambunctious, fearless little kids with endless curiosities, to busy, hard-working adults, generating income so that hopefully one day we can retire, where the hours stretch on for days (just like it did when we were little kids).

In retirement, we are sold that we can do anything we want. From reading books to painting, to just chilling on the beach, or seeing the world by cruise ship, or just slow swinging on a porch with an old cat in our lap. I dunno, it’s different for everyone. What I do know is that I had obviously miscalculated a long middle for a short end. Crazy how that happens.

Laying there, motionless, with the chirps and beeps of hospital equipment, the days and nights blurred together. I didn’t know what day it was. But it didn’t matter as time had no relevance. I realized I has spent so much of my life working hard and saving up for a future that would never come. I felt stupid. Decades of grinding, all for what.

I tried to stay positive. To look on the bright side of things. To reflect. I had my fair share of adventures and vacations. My fair share of accomplishments, of friendships. I once took a 3-month solo motorcycle trip across the USA (remember that?). Damn, that was cool.

I got to see the world and was even beginning a new family with my wonderful spouse. I regretted not being able to raise my daughter until she was at least 20. Let me live another 20 years, I said, so I can instill in her self-reliance, self-discipline, curiosity, and grit. To let her know that anything is possible. But I knew that all would eventually be ok. My wife is a warrior with a great big supportive family. And I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it now.

I had a lot of feelings but above all I was calm and grateful. I was grateful I got to experience most of what life had to offer. The exciting parts. The sad parts. The whole gamut of human experience from birth to baby—which is more than anyone is guaranteed. Being in that dark, desolate place in my mind. That place where I had no external voice, I still had gratitude. But it was a resigned gratitude. One with plenty of I-couldas, I-wouldas, and I shouldas.

Coming back into consciousness, hearing the same high-pitched, rhythmic beeping from the heart-monitoring machine, I knew I had been there for a very long time. I felt like I wasn’t getting any better. Every day was just like the last. Groundhog Day.  I felt like, maybe, I would be in the hospital forever in that state. Even if I hadn’t died I felt like a ghost. To be seen but not to see. To be touched but not to touch. A fly on the wall of a busy hospital with ears instead of eyes. A vegetable frozen in time, with tubes and wires coming out of everywhere.

Then just like that, like some kind of reverse “Benjamin Button” disease, I was blasted back into reality, back to my 40-year-old body. I had aches and pains all over, shed a lot of tears, but, damn, it felt good to sit up on my own, to just breathe again. It had been 23 days, with 16 of them in the ICU. I would spend the next 11 days relearning everything. How to walk. How old my daughter was. How to use my phone. But I was back.

Today (April 12, 2023) marks the 100th day of leaving the hospital. Though I’ve been back probably half a dozen times since, they have all been for check-ups, bone density scans, MRI’s, physical therapy, and all ending with my favorite part—going home.

I am not sure what the point of this post is. I guess it’s for you to envision yourself where I was. A dead man with no future, with the woulda, coulda, shouldas. To put yourself there and see if you would change anything when you were granted your wish. To realize that most everything that stresses you out right now probably doesn’t even matter.

You’re alive, you’re breathing, and growing older is a privilege. Don’t waste it with your head down.

Click here or the image below to subscribe to our mailing list :

Your generous Donations allow IAES to continue our important work and save lives! 

On June 16 th, 2022, Tabitha Orth, President and Founder of International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society officially became the 7,315 th “point of light”. Recognized for the volunteer work she and IAES has done to spark change and improve the world for those touched by Autoimmune Encephalitis. The award was founded by President George H.W. Bush in 1990.

 Become an Advocate by sharing your story. It may result in accurate diagnosis for someone suffering right now who is yet to be correctly identified. Submit your story with two photos to IAES@autoimmune-encephalitis.org

International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society (IAES), home of the AEWarrior®, is the only Family/Patient-centered organization that assists members from getting a diagnosis through to recovery and the many challenges experienced in their journey. Your donations are greatly appreciated and are the direct result of IAES’ ability to develop the first product in the world to address the needs of patients, Autoimmune Encephalitis Trivia Playing Cards. Every dollar raised allows us to raise awareness and personally help Patients, Families, and Caregivers through their Journey with AE to ensure that the best outcomes can be reached. Your contribution to our mission will help save lives and improve the quality of life for those impacted by AE. 

For those interested in face masks, clothing, mugs, and other merchandise, check out our AE Warrior Store!  This online shop was born out of the desire for the AE patient to express their personal pride in fighting such a traumatic disease and the natural desire to spread awareness. Join our AE family and help us continue our mission to support patients, families and caregivers while they walk this difficult journey.