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May 31, 2023 | By Lisa Lauter. Reposted with permission from Lisa Lauter Journey to Health
A message from IAES Blog Staff:
The entire staff at IAES is very excited to share with all of you a blog published by one of our own members from her own website.
This is an anniversary blog of sorts. Almost 4 years ago to the day IAES published the first blog about Lisa that includes a video clip regarding her AE(LGI1) diagnosis and journey.
Four fast and eventful years have passed. Lisa is doing well along her AE journey, has had her share of ups and downs, has moved, has an active website and has written a book published that is soon to launch. Please feel free to follow Lisa, read her blogs and celebrate her book launch @ https://www.lisalauter.com/
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What started as a journey north from Texas to hunker down during the pandemic in a little mountain town in British Columbia, evolved into a permanent move back to Canada and the realization of a dream to build our forever home on the edge of a lake, surrounded by mountains. I have to keep pinching myself to believe that’s it’s real, but I wouldn’t be here without supportive friends and family.
I have a group chat with a circle of women who are some of my closest friends. We call ourselves the Shady Ladies – sounds a lot more dodgy than it is. We support each other daily by giving random advice on everything from politics, to fashion, to children, to aging parents, to what the heck should I make for dinner. They are my tribe and they got me through some really dark days. When helping me decide what to write today, one of them said write about “how to cope with multiple projects without losing your mind!” (There may have been a well placed expletive in that sentence). I immediately chirped back, “great idea, but you’re assuming I haven’t lost mine yet!”. Another one said, use a couple of inspirational quotes – the kind you get on tea bags! Hence, today’s blog.
If you’ve been following me for a few months, you know that I had a setback recently that threw me for a loop, bringing back symptoms of numbness, tingling and gait changes, and slowing down my cognitive function. It reminded me of the importance of listening to my body and giving it what it needs (sleep, good nutrition, positive mindset, exercise), and learning that sometimes, something’s gotta give.
But here we are! Almost at the finish line and about to move into our new home. The busy-ness isn’t over yet. We still have to move out of the rental we’ve been in for three years, and unpack a truck load worth of stuff and memories that have been in storage all this time. (Pace yourself, Lisa, make space for the daily walks and meditation, eat well and rest.)
Sometimes you have to take chances to realize dreams. Like my journey to health, we put one step in front of the other, made a ton of lists, and day-by-day checked things off. Sometimes I don’t know how I did it. My camera reel is full of screen shot reminders and my desk and kitchen are plastered with sticky notes and endless lists. Sure, we make mistakes along the way and it’s not always easy, but we try to laugh and remember the big picture. It may sound cliché, but don’t sweat the small stuff. Keep your eye on the prize and have another cup of tea (herbal of course). You never know where you might end up.
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.
May 24, 2023 | By Emerson Jane Browne. Reposted with permission from Dancing Upside Down
A message from IAES Blog Staff:
The staff at IAES is excited to bring to you a blog from author Emerson Jane Browne.
Emerson, a traumatic brain injury (TBI) survivor herself, wrote this very insightful blog about a subject we have all wondered about and tried to understand. Why are brain injuries so complex and misunderstood? We hope you enjoy her insight and thoughts as much as we have.
To find out more about Emerson please visit her website ‘Dancing Upside Down’ at https://www.dancingupsidedown.com/.
——
We’ve all heard it. “What the heck? You look fine to me!”
Or “It’s been months! Get over this brain injury stuff! Move on already!”
Movies and television have spread so much misinformation about brain injuries it is practically criminal!!
Hollywood has convinced people that if you have a brain injury you have to look it! You have to drag one foot, or have speech problems, or in some manner “look” disabled.
Nothing could be further from the truth! The majority of brain injuries are not visible at all. You try to express how much you are struggling and the response is “You look great!”
And that is the second reason:
People are used to thinking of injury in terms of a broken bone. Subconsciously they are looking for the cast, the bandage . . . the visual evidence of your injury. And you don’t have it so their brains draw the conclusion that you must not be injured.
The interesting thing about this, is it is an automatic processing in their own brain and they are not even aware of it.
For example, we learn very early in our life to equate a glowing red burner or flame on a stove as “Hot”. We learn it so well that it becomes automatic. Each time you see a stove you do not laboriously have to think through or reason out that a glowing burner means hot.
The exact same thing is going on in people’s heads in relation to equating injury with visual cues. Their brains have learned to equate the lack of obvious signs of injury with “non-injured”.
And that leads right into the third reason that brain injuries are so misunderstood:
Until a person’s brain is injured, we do not realize how much we took our brain for granted.
All the little automatic things – from knowing how to add two numbers to knowing what a paintbrush is for or how to read, or when you get to the store remembering to look at a grocery list you just made . . . All the even more important things like who we are, our own sense of identity, the “me” that you have always counted on from the inside . . . all of that is automatic … until it no longer is.
It is dreadfully hard to explain that to someone who has not experienced it because they really don’t get that our brains are essentially us.
Since you still look like you and sound like you, it is extremely hard for another person to grasp how deeply you feel and know you are no longer the you that you were.
And it is even more difficult for someone to grasp how big of a deal that is, and how lost you feel. If you aren’t you on the inside then who are you? And are you always going to be like this? Are you ever going to get you back?
And that brings us to the fourth reason brain injuries are so misunderstood:
We are used to the healing we have seen all our life – the cut that heals in a week, the broken bone that heals in six, the bad sprain that heals in ten. Heck, after open-heart surgery most people are able to return to work in about eight weeks!
But think about your brain. It took years to develop! That is what the majority of childhood and young adulthood is about – developing the brain. Then, if you are an adult, you have had even more years of refining your neural network.
The brain is a very complex neural network of connections. The brain strengthens and speeds up the neural pathways we use the most. A brain injury disturbs those delicate intricate pathways and connections.
Healing and regrowing of neurons is slow.
Sadly nerve tissue is some of the slowest growing tissue in our body – likely because of how complex it is. Then, in addition, remapping all the intricate connections takes an even longer time.
I am not saying that because I authored this article. It is the reverse. I authored the article specifically so you can show it to friends and family.
Show them the High IQ TBI article – there is a lot of information in there no matter what someone’s IQ.
Communicate
Talk to the people you need to educate. And understand that you do not need to educate everyone. Energy is limited when you have a brain injury. Choose the people who you need to have understand what you are going through.
And choose people who want to understand. You will find that those are the people who really care about you.
I find using the term “brain holes” works well. Yes, it is not a medical term. But naming a problem a “brain hole” is creates a visual image which makes it easier for people to understand.
Do your best to use examples of how things used to work/feel in comparison to how they now work/feel. Again, using descriptions that people can relate to helps a lot.
For instance, I used the analogy of going from a sleek car with a smooth automatic transmission to suddenly finding myself in a clunker with a standard transmission with a clutch that keeps slipping.
I wish I did not have to say that!
But sadly, letting go of friends and even family is one of the biggest heartbreaks of having a TBI.
Some people will not want to try to understand. They are adamant in their beliefs and opinions that you are “faking it to get attention”; that “you need to just get over it”; that you are “not really injured” because you “look fine”. Some people will get tired of trying to understand. They will get impatient with the process. Most people cannot truly grasp or understand how extremely slow and incremental brain healing and remapping is.
They may have supported you and been understanding for a while but somewhere along the line they paste a label on you. And they may never bother to come back around to see if anything changed.
Yes, I am serious. Just do a real simple one. Ask a friend to help you set it up. It is dead-easy on WordPress.com or Google Blogger. (Use a pen name or just your initials because it will free you up to not worry about what you say or any perfection issues. Plus, no one will find it if they google your name.)
Write. Just write. Just write what is going on for you.
Writing will help YOU get a grasp on what is going on, which will then make it easier for you to explain it to others. Writing will also help you be more compassionate with yourself. Interestingly, as you become more compassionate with yourself, others will become more compassionate with you too!
Plus, for those who are truly trying to understand and be supportive, sometimes reading what you have written is the best way to help them grasp what it is like for you on the inside.
Question: What problems are you having being understood? What is working to help others understand?
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.
April 12, 2023 | By Emerson Jane Browne. Reposted with permission from Dancing Upside Down
A message from IAES Blog Staff:
The staff at IAES is excited to bring to you a blog from author Emerson Jane Browne.
Emerson, a traumatic brain injury (TBI) survivor herself, wrote this very insightful blog about a subject we have all encountered. Along our own autoimmune encephalitis journeys, as we have changed, so have our friendships. We hope you enjoy her insight and thoughts as much as we have.
To find out more about Emerson please visit her website ‘Dancing Upside Down’ at https://www.dancingupsidedown.com/.
——
Essentially friends of most brain injury survivors fall into four categories with a small amount of overlap:
NOTE: Though I will use the word “Friends” and “Friend” throughout this article you can add in the word “Family Members” because family members will and do fall into the same categories discussed here.
Before Friends are the ones who knew us at work, through our hobbies, in our neighborhood, at our place of worship, etc.
They knew you as a capable, clear thinker. They knew you as a friend who was fun to be around. They knew you as someone who could get things done.
And especially they knew you as a friend who was like them.
Many of the Before Friends just cannot handle the changes they see in you from the brain injury. Some friends split fast. Others try to hang on but end up drifting away.
Who are those people? Yes they really were your friends, but the basis of the friendship was that you were similar to each other – the like them factor.
We are different now. It is not that these people wish us ill. It is that we are no longer like them so the like them bond is broken.
And then there are the Before Friends who stick around. They hang with you through thick and thin. Your friendship becomes deeper and richer.
These “true friends” live the adage of “That which doesn’t kill a friendship makes it stronger”.
They will be some of your best supporters over the long haul because they can remind you of who you were and cheer you on (and razz you) to get back there.
Sometimes those “true friends” are the ones who have known you the longest. But often it is surprising who turns out to be one of the caring friends who sticks with you.
The key thing that makes someone a Through Friend is that they are with you; physically with you, seeing you often. Or they are at least on the phone or Skype with you very frequently.
They have to be close enough that they are able to experience and notice the small improvements; to watch you change over time.
“Through friends” may be family. They may be people who knew you pre brain injury. Or they may be people you have met since the brain injury.
These friends and family are close enough to see you grow into your “new self”. They adjust to the incremental changes along with you. They know and understand when you are able to take on new responsibilities.
This is a critical distinction from the During group below. The During Friends know you during the same period as the Through Friends but they are not close enough to really be able to grock the brain injury healing process.
During Friends are ones who did not know you pre-brain injury, or at least did not know you well. They get to know you while you are injured and in the recovery period.
The key thing about this group is they are not close enough to you to understand much about your brain injury (or brain injuries in general) in the first place. And they are not close enough to see and realize the changes that are occurring as you heal and recover.
During friends become friends with you thinking “this is the way she/he is”.
I think the like them factor crops up again in the During Friend category. The basis of the friendship is, once again, that there are interests you share in common, or community – like a place of worship or club. They are friends that you see socially. Friends that you may work with in your recovery period.
During Friends can also be attracted to your disability. They can be people who like helping other people. They can be people who feel good about being “more together” than you. You can explain to the brain injury to your During Friends. You can comment about it frequently. But they just will not get it on the level that the Through Friends do. They cannot fully understand that you were very different before the brain injury or that you are incrementally becoming a new you.
Brain injury recover is a very slow process. The healing changes are small but cumulative. They build on each other. Recovery takes years! But it happens. The more you stretch and grow, the more your brain remaps.
The “After Recovery Friends” are friends who get to know you after you are well into your recovery. They know you as you are now; the new you.
So which of the above friendships is most at risk as you become a new, capable you? As you regain the skill and talent you had pre-injury?
The During Friends!
They became friends with you thinking “this is the way she/he is”. They are not close enough to you to see and celebrate the small changes. And they did not know you pre-accident!
Your changing upsets the balance with During Friends.
Think of a mobile hanging in perfect balance. If you change one item on a mobile all the pieces move and jerk around until a new balance is restored.
The balance in your friendships with your during friends is similar to a mobile. If you change and become someone different from who your during friends expect then you to be upset the whole balance that they have come to count on! People do not like their balance upset so they try to push you back into “your place” in the friendship mobile.
I don’t think they mean to try to keep you small or injured. They just never knew you pre-injury so did not know you could change as much as you have!
And I also do not think that having them be naysayers is necessarily the end of the friendship. But I do think that the friendship will either adjust over time or end.
You cannot play small to please them.
In my case the Before Friend category is especially marked because I moved to a different state soon after I had the “main event” brain injury.
Most of my adult, professional life was spent in the Denver/Boulder area of Colorado. I moved to Seattle and suffered an additional brain injury a week after arriving. Though I have stayed in touch with friends from Colorado, they were not in a place to move into the Through Friends category.
Since returning to Washington, I have been graced with developing a few very close friendships and reconnecting with an old friend and deepening our friendship. Plus, recovering from the brain injury has also strengthened my relationship with my two sisters.
These people are my Through Friends. They have seen me through all the years of recovery. They totally get how much I have healed and how much I am back to full-force capability.
It is the reaction of other friends – my During Friends – that caused me to write this article.
I recently was hired into an interim position at an executive level. I am very capable of doing the job and extremely excited about it, even though it is only interim.
My Through Friends are rejoicing with me and cheering me on. They know I am ready to make this step.
My Before Friends are happy for me too. Since I moved right after my brain injury, most of my pre-injury friends never knew how bad off my brain was. They knew I could not work for a while, but for me to be hired at an executive level seems normal to them. I was working at that level in Colorado too.
My During Friends are people who I consider good friends. Most of them are social friends I see often. I thought they understood how how hard I have been working at recovery. I thought they would be supportive and excited about my new position.
But that isn’t the case. It is not that they do not wish me well. I think they do.
But their reaction to my new job is more like a “You’ve got to be kidding me” shock response and a “Who do you think you are!?!” look or maybe the look is even “You can’t do that! Why on earth did they hire you?” I also think some of them do not believe it is a real job.
In hindsight, I understand.
Since they did not know me pre-injury, I don’t think they understood how injured I was when they met me. Therefore, they did not look for, nor see the changes that were occurring as I healed. And since they had no idea what I had been like pre-injury, they had no idea who I was working to reclaim.
I told them what was going on for and with me. I thought they had understood. Now I realize that they thought it was ridiculous that I did not have a “regular job” for so long. They totally did not get what I was working on (both healing wise and work wise). I do not feel I have to entirely give up on my During Friends. They are good friends who I enjoy socially. However, I do feel I need to “encapsulate” them.
It is not important to me that they someday see me in a different light. But it is important that their wishing to put me back into a small box is unsuccessful in how I view myself and how I operate in the world. I cannot play small to please them.
Read more from Emerson Jane Browne on her website: https://www.dancingupsidedown.com/
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.
March 22, 2023 | By Shadazah (Daisy) Brown
The staff at IAES is excited to present the sixth in the blog series by a mighty AE Warrior in her ongoing quest to get all of herself back! Previous posts in Daisy’s journey are linked below:
Part 1: https://autoimmune-encephalitis.org/post/?highlight=Shadazah%20Brown%20
Part 3: https://autoimmune-encephalitis.org/daisys-ongoing-journey/
Part 4: https://autoimmune-encephalitis.org/daring-daisy-part-4/?highlight=Shadazah%20Brown
Part 5: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTqvt_CqYps
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I am here! I am still fighting every day, and I sometimes feel this Autoimmune Encephalitis(AE) road to recovery is one rough ride! I suppose on many days and in many ways, I could be called Rough Rider Daisy!
This past year has certainly had its share of ups in downs along the road of my AE journey. I have had several relapses that have proved difficult emotionally, mentally, and physically. But I continue to ride this road with positivity!
I have been in and out of hospitals due to seizure activity and AV fistula issues. My seizures are usually preempted by what many of us call an aura. Many AE Warriors can relate to this phenomenon. They can come about quickly or slowly. Sometimes I try to calm my brain and thoughts if I feel an aura but sometimes, they come so quickly, and the seizures come so quickly I have no time or warning. The bottom line with all of this is ongoing anxiety and fear. You never really know when an aura and then a seizure is coming so this can cause fear and anxiety. Somedays I find it difficult to eat, sleep or do simple acts of daily living because of the anxiety. At times I can remember what was happening prior to a seizure and I can remember an aura and sometimes I cannot, but they are all scary.
Many of you may remember the video blog I did for IAES about a year ago about my AV fistula and how helpful having one has been for me. Overall, the fistula has been a godsend and made medication management like getting plasmapheresis much easier. As with most things in life, nothing is perfect, and I have had fistula issues requiring surgery during this past year.
AE can be a rough ride at times. The road can have difficult mountains to climb and beautiful valleys to see. Once again, I will persist and ride this rough road. I will be positive and be Rough Rider Daisy!
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.
September 29, 2021 | By Jeri Gore
The staff at IAES is proud to share with you a letter by none other than our Blog Division Head, Jeri Gore! Her compassionate, strong, and thoughtful spirit shines through these words addressed to her mom in this heartfelt and insightful piece. We learn not only of AE’s far-reaching impacts on families, but of the joy and opportunity that can await AE Warriors after surviving the worst parts of the illness.
We hope you enjoy this opportunity to learn more about Jeri’s LGI1 story and what drives her to be such a hard-working, dedicated member of IAES!
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“If we accept the science of the law of Conservation of Energy, “Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.” ― Einstein
In other words, the total amount of energy in the universe never changes, although it may change from one form to another. Energy never disappears, but it does change form. It isn’t a far leap in realizing that love, the most powerful form of energy, is eternal.
~~
Dear Mom,
It has been a while since I have written you a letter. I apologize. There is a lot to tell you and talk about. I suppose the emotion of it all made it tough for me. Still, no excuse, you are my Mom and I love and miss you dearly and always will.
I know you probably know ALL about what is going in our lives but, boy oh boy, do we need to have a chat! The grandkids are doing great, and all are busy. Another is going to be getting married, one went off to college and your eldest grandson and his wife are going to have a baby boy this coming November. Just think of it, you would be a great grandmother. I know, you are so excited about this! Bro and I are doing fine as are Mitch and Marina. Keeping track of the kids and their lives is fun and exciting. They would have you laughing as they always did.
We made it up to the cottage in Canada this summer after the long 18 months or so of Covid restrictions and we could not be happier being here in the place that you loved best next to sunny south Florida.
I was standing near the stone we placed in your honor, in front of the cottage facing the lake and I figured it was high time I told you all about me. To talk about the disease, I have. To tell you about the organization I try and do my best to be a part of, and to help to try to ensure that there will come a day when no one needs to write to their Mom about this disease. To help ensure Autoimmune Encephalitis is a term, a disease, that is known about and easily diagnosed and treated.
Mom, I have Autoimmune Encephalitis anti-LGI1. Big word I know. Strange as heck disease for sure. In 2018 and more into 2019 I started having odd symptoms. My brain felt foggy. Sometimes I would be looking at someone and just have a blank look in my eyes. Sometimes I was mean. At times I would repeat things. Sometimes I walked kind of funny and made weird noises. It was like I had dementia. I then had seizures. Lots of seizures. It was super scary for everyone around me. I was in the hospital a lot and I was finally taken to a great hospital in Philadelphia near where we live. A wonderful neurologist at that hospital knew all about Autoimmune Encephalitis and has taken good care of me. I am doing well now. I try and participate in as many clinical trials as I can to help further research and find out more about AE. I joined an organization called IAES or the International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society to help, in my small way, to get the word out about AE. No one needs to go thru what so many with AE do. No families and friends need to go thru what your grandchildren, Mitch, Bro, Marina and all of our friends did before I was diagnosed. I know, I know you would tell me NOT to pack 25lbs in a 5lb. bag. You said that to me all the time. But, Mom, for this, for AE, I must. There has been some research that leads scientists to believe that for some folks there may be a genetic link to the type of AE I have. I have to do everything I can to ensure others get this info and to get this information for your grandchildren and generations to come. I must do this for you.
Mom, you passed away ten years ago. We were told and we believed you had dementia. You were 81 years old. You started showing symptoms of neurological issues 5/6 years prior to when you died (right around the time of this last family picture taken in 2007). You were relatively young, and those symptoms came out of the blue. I know hindsight is always 20/20 but I cannot say, in my heart, that you did not have some form of AE.
You simply started showing signs of dementia-like behavior. This is one of the things many with AE have and show. We will never know.
We will miss you always. And I will do my damnedest to make sure no one ever needs to write a letter like this to their Mom in the future.
Mom, thanks for the chat. I promise not to wait this long to write and talk again. I hope you are doing great. I hope you are smiling down at us and have that twinkle in your eye. I would give anything to see it in person and to hold your hand. I’ll be sure to write about the upcoming baby and wedding and all the goings on with a young college kid. You would be laughing like crazy with everything that goes on with the other grands as well.
By the way, your cottage is as amazing as always.
And I hope you understand why I do what I do.
As always, love you forever and a day…
~Gig
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.
August 25, 2021 | From the Speech Pathology Services at the University of Washington Medical Center
We are grateful for the permission to re-publish this article from the University of Washington Medical Center.
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This article explains the 4 types of memory. It also gives strategies to help you remember things if your memory is impaired.
Memory is the ability to learn, store, and retrieveinformation. New or increasing problems withany or all of these 3 stages of memory oftenoccur after a traumatic brain injury, stroke, braintumor, multiple sclerosis, or other kind of injury or illness that affects your nervous system.
Some memory problems may also occur as part of normal aging, when manypeople have more trouble retrieving new information.
Your speech therapist can help you with strategies to help you remember new information. There are 2 maintypes of strategies to help your memory: internal reminders and external reminders.
August 11, 2021 | By Shadazah (Daisy) Brown
The staff at IAES is excited to present the fourth in the blog series by a mighty AE Warrior in her ongoing quest to get all of herself back! Previous posts in Daisy’s journey are linked below:
Part 1: https://autoimmune-encephalitis.org/post/?highlight=Shadazah%20Brown%20
Part 3: https://autoimmune-encephalitis.org/daisys-ongoing-journey/
Being in and out of various hospitals has become second nature to me. The hospitals and staff are like my second home and family in many ways. Between getting weekly infusions and having issues with high and low blood glucose levels due to AE has me in various hospitals all the time. I had surgery last year to put an arteriovenous (AV) fistula in my arm. The surgery and recovery process were difficult. The twenty staples used to secure the fistula and the discomfort took at long time to heal from and then to work properly. It is now used for my weekly plasmapheresis infusions! My AV fistula and I are like close dependent friends!!!
I am starting to understand what things I can and cannot do and am trying my best to remain positive. Some days are better than others, but I have found that when I feel a bad day coming or feel down, I can listen to music, write, and talk to new and old friends. I have met many wonderful new people while on this road to getting better and many old friends from my childhood call and check in on me often. My new and old friends are like sisters and brothers to me, and it is wonderful to have them to talk to.
Sometimes I do feel sad or feel like my 20’s is flying by, and I am only able to watch and not actually participate. Sometimes AE makes you feel mad or heartbroken. Sometimes AE is difficult for those around you, and they come and go from your life. But each morning when I open my eyes and wake up to another new day and new possibilities, I feel blessed.
I am learning to have patience with this brain disease. Each one of us with AE is different and we all go thru different stages. I am learning to manage ‘me’ and I am determined to get all of ‘me’ back!!
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.
July 14, 2021 | By WhereAreMyPillows.com
Message from the IAES blog staff:
We at the IAES are pleased to be growing a resilient network of AE Warriors! It’s been a real pleasure to celebrate the critical milestones in recovery and care with so many of you as part of our AE Tuesday Tries initiative, hosted by Tessa McKenzie (our Chief Resilience officer).
To tie in with this, we thought it fitting to highlight the Resilience Report series that blogger WhereAreMyPillows created over the past 12 months of her multi-year journey with AE. Published consistently on her blog at the end of each month, she has provided us all with a snapshot into the realities of fighting for AE care and what it’s like to just keep putting one foot in front of the other on the road to recovery.
Through diagnosis, treatment, setbacks, growth, and recovery, we at the IAES are committed to helping you strengthen your own resilient spirit, just like we have witnessed develop through WhereAreMyPillows’ writing. Join us for weekly discussion in our Facebook group and sign up for our monthly Zoom meet-up, with our next one to be held on July 27, 2021.
This post is part of the #WhereAreMyPillows monthly blog column for the International Autoimmune Encephalitis Society and is adapted from a blog originally published on www.wherearemypillows.com .
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Two years ago last month, I was hospitalized for the first time. I was diagnosed with seronegative autoimmune encephalitis (AE). And I started 5 months of immunotherapy, roughly 5 years after my illness first began.
By November 2019, I thought the war was won: I seemingly had all the answers to solve my medical mystery, which had been open since 2014. It was clear by that month that standard AE treatments had worked wonders to bring me back to my original baseline of good health and cognitive functioning. Sure, I knew relapsing was a possibility; but were that to happen, I figured that healing again would be as simple as resuming Rituxan.
And then 2020 happened. 2020 taught me that there is a whole lot more to encephalitis, the medical system, and to put it plainly—human suffering—than I appreciated the first time I recovered.
But it (along with 2021) has also taught me that I’m capable of much more than I know. I started this Resilience Report series exactly one year ago—2.5 months after resuming Rituxan—thinking that an upward ascent was nigh. That I’d be declaring myself healed in no time. As it would turn out—NOPE! Turns out, I’d continue to deteriorate, accrue more medical trauma, and require another hospitalization to start recorrecting the bleak course of my disease!
As devastating as that was, what unfolded was actually a lot more meaningful than what I had originally hoped for. I was stretched to new limits, widening my horizons and deepening my understanding of what it means to be human. I found out what I’m made of, by being broken down into my component parts. And while it remains uncertain how the parts are going to be reconfigured, I see many exciting potentialities ahead. I mean, I’m not well enough right now to be jumping up and down about it just yet; but I feel a sense of conviction that whatever the future holds, it’s going to be okay. Underneath the surface struggles, I see a continuously evolving reserve of inner resources that will buoy me through whatever comes my way.
And with that, I’ve decided to conclude this Resilience Report series. I think they’ve served their purpose, providing an unvarnished and unglamourous glimpse into what it’s been like for me to persevere through the past year of living with AE. Lots of battles and lots of bumps, but with some key victories that encourage me to keep exploring the future with curiousity rather than trepidation. Most of the time, at least!
My biggest takeaway, after writing 12 of these, is knowing that there’s a reason I’ve survived the past 7 years. I feel that in my gut. I’m determined to make it, to live a compelling story, to help others along the way, and to reach a far more satisfying end to this journey. That’s what resilience means to me.
What’s ahead? Well for starters, I’ve got a PET scan on the books to capture the cognitive decline I’ve been experiencing again over the past weeks. Hopefully that will open up more treatment options, to push me out of this relapse and back on to the healing road I was on when I left the hospital in January. And I still plan to keep writing on my blog, with the goal of once monthly at minimum.
I leave you with a relevant highlight of the past month: seeing the AE Alliance newsletter published, with my story starting on page 12. It was a real honour for me to be asked to write a piece for the Alliance’s recurring “My AE Journey” newsletter segment, as besides the IAES, the Alliance is another important organization that is moving mountains in the AE world and directly impacting patients just like me. Check it out here.
And… that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who joined along with me for this series, and for those who’ve dropped a line—you’ve done wonders to aid me in remaining resilient through this journey, and I would not have gotten as far without you 😊
This post concludes my Monthly Resilience Report series, in which I document the ebbs and flows of recovering from autoimmune encephalitis. Previous ones can be found below:
For more insight into what living with autoimmune encephalitis looks like, read more at my blog below or find me on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter.
WhereAreMyPillows is a seronegative AE survivor from Canada. Her favourite activities include writing on her health blog, taking photos, doing yoga, and finding her next spot to take a nap.
Join her on the IAES Facebook group, and on her WhereAreMyPillows Facebook Page, Instagram and Twitter #wherearemypillows
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.
April 28, 2021 |Tessa McKenzie
Message from the IAES blog staff:
We’re excited to introduce you to Tessa McKenzie, the latest addition to our fabulous group of IAES volunteers! She’s an inspiring AE Warrior and certified Life Coach who is joining us in the role of IAES Chief Resilience Officer.
Look out for the official program announcement for “#TuesdayTries,” a series of Zoom meet-ups and resilience-building activities led by Tessa, coming next month!
—-
I am an Autoimmune Encephalitis (AE) survivor. I’m also a life coach.
Meaning matters and it’s taken me years to ascribe my AE journey any meaning beyond “Why me!?” My story may be just like yours or infinitely different, but one thing I’m sure of is that you’re not nuts.
This is not game over. You will feel okay again, and I look forward to one day reading your resilience story.
My story began in May 2019 when I woke up shaking and didn’t stop for 60 days. Panic, severe insomnia, loss of executive functions, dizziness, and tachycardia followed. One day I walked 20,000 steps around my house due to excess energy; on other days, I could barely move. I was on high alert, forever scanning the room, and the moment I fell asleep my body would jolt awake over, and over again. My arms and legs tingled all over. Food lost its appeal and I went on to lose so much weight the doctor suggested I drink bone broth to fatten up.
Like yours, my story is long but here’s what I most recall: my husband holding my jerking body at night, begging me to recall our honeymoon in effort to remind me of what peace felt like; my two-year-old child crying because I was so unlike the mother he had known just months earlier; taking hours to fold laundry because I couldn’t figure out how to match socks. I remember endless medical professionals telling me nothing was physically wrong with me, yet psychiatrists believing my illness was nothing short of physical.
Time did not exist. I couldn’t recall things that had transpired seconds prior and also lost the ability to plan ahead, even for the most ordinary of activities.
Have you experienced bewildering confusion in a grocery store, too? The kind where you’re unable to comprehend its contents due to competing colors, shapes, and depths? Like me, do you know loss of credibility that comes with being overwhelmingly unwell, all the while appearing too normal to be incapacitated? There are a lot of details I can’t recall but more memories I wish I couldn’t remember from that time.
Thankfully, AE warriors also know how to overcome challenge. Yes, you. You’ve done it your entire life and the things that you’ve experienced with AE are nothing short of superhuman. You are better poised for a comeback story than most.
As for me, I was at first shocked by my brain’s ability to develop skills that I had lacked just days earlier. On November 26, 2019, I regained some inner dialogue of thoughts. Soon after came longer term memories followed by the return of some shorter-term ones. With every victory came the confidence that greater gains were possible.
I started to cook again! It took me multiple tries to make eggs – it took phone calls with friends and a lot of tears, but I made my son eggs again and all seemed forgiven. I kept a post-it by my bed to aid my morning routine, too: underwear, pants, shirt… I recall chanting it but couldn’t remember all three items at once (in fact, I still struggle remembering three of almost anything!).
I felt happy again, too. The moment I noticed beautiful sunlight on golden leaves in the wet road remains striking to me. I called a friend to tell her I had experienced my first moment of God-given happiness again.
It took a year and a half to get my diagnosis of Autoimmune Encephalitis from the Neuro-ophthalmology and Neuro-immunology departments of Johns Hopkins Hospital. We all have some equation of red flags that got us into this group. Mine was an ANA titer of 1:1,280 at the time of onset + symptoms + MRI showing scattered foci in the white matter of my brain + past infection + neuropsychological testing demonstrating diminished IQ: a perfect storm causing my “Brain on Fire” experience.
Nonetheless, I am a walking miracle and I know it. I’ve been called a “rare-mermaid,” one of the lucky ones who has improved so significantly with devastatingly little medical attention. As I have been given the gift of a second chance, it is my aim to turn my life’s mess into my life’s message.
Standing on the shoulders of giants, AE warriors and advocates who have quickly become family, I am grateful to share space with those of you who ‘get it’; to walk beside you in turning our greatest tests into profound testimonials of strength together.
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.
March 31, 2021 |Maureen Oosthuizen and Ayisha
Message from the IAES blog staff:
The staff at IAES is honored to present to you a blog that describes the plight of AE perfectly. It gives form to the heartache, mental and physical destruction that AE can render to not only the patient but also parents and family. This is from the standpoint of a parent and a teenager with AE. This not only speaks to the pain and difficulty those with AE face but, also, the amazing spirit to rise above this disease and not let it define her!
—-
It’s been a rough 10 days. That family member with the huge personality that everyone tries to avoid, moved in again…the one that takes over your household, no matter how hard you try to keep control. The one that makes everyone run around like crazy, makes everything spin out of control and for which you can do everything to the best of your knowledge and capability, but it just isn’t good enough! That family member, who you know, comes with chaos, no matter how well you plan for every possible scenario. The one that always catches you with some kind of angle, the one you prepare yourself for mentally a hundred times over, but there is ALWAYS something you didn’t take into account – they always have something up their sleeve.
In our household, that family member is called Autoimmune Encephalitis (AE). It is a life form on its own. You are required to leave a dedicated space for it, almost like a shrine. It demands not only your space, but your time, your patience, your resources. The suitcase packed with Aunt AE’s belongings stands in the corner of the bedroom, even when she’s not physically there. But let’s face it, even when not there – she is still there. You keep her toothbrush and towel the way she requires it, just in case she turns up unannounced, like so many times before. You leave things related to her as she leaves them, because it’s Aunt AE, and you stay aware –but keep your distance, grateful for the break from her overwhelming presence. Plans get made around Aunt AE’s schedule and life gets lived around what suits her first. You get angry; you get embarrassed that she could be so arrogant. You get frustrated. But – she carries your name, has your DNA and will be part of your life no matter what. She will attend every birthday party and family gathering. She will turn up in full force for public appearances and you will not be able to hide or avoid her. And the possibility highly exists that she will ruin every special occasion in your life. But she is here to stay, part of you—and nothing you do can change that. You can try to move 5 steps forward and with one swing of the door—it flings open, and you hear “I’m back!”… and you know, this is the moment regular life stops and plan B kicks in… for EVERYBODY in the house… I know you smiled as you met Aunt AE… you might even have recognized that family member in your own life. The thought might have crossed your mind that if AE is like that Aunt, then life with AE can’t be that bad! Well, there is a secret. I learned a remarkable thing from an amazing, well known, international business guru once, on the topic of successful personnel management, in announcing major change or bringing awareness of disciplinary actions, you start with humor, a relatable story. You remind your audience of how unique they are, yet how we all seem to be similar in many ways – how interesting and effective we all can be if only a small change in perspective is applied. You flatteringly hook them, then you reel them in. And when they can find themselves in your story, you move from the lighthearted starter to the meat of the matter. Only when hooked, then, do you tackle the main course you plated, with the shock of reality, with expectation, with discipline, action, but first, you soften the blow before you destroy. You smooth things over at the end of destruction with a hug, a soft cushion to land on. So today, in sharing my experience with AE, I will follow that recipe to a tee and do the same. Because how do I fall in the door with the reality of what AE really does, who it is and what chaos it brings to you? How can I be as brutal with you in my introduction of AE, as what AE was when it brutally introduced itself to my daughter, my family and myself?
A formal introduction:
I am Maureen and I am mom to an AE Warrior that was diagnosed in January 2019 at age 14. You will meet her in the paragraphs to follow, not only through my words and thoughts on how awesome I think she is, but also through her own words in describing the journey she has traveled and the person she has become because of AE. I think it’s right here, in this next paragraph that I need to explain that our story might be a little different than the ones you’ve read here before.
There will be no mention of fancy scientific and medical concepts; we will not share much of the technical parts of the groundwork, the hours and days and months it took to get her an actual diagnosis, nor will you read here about the medical and chemical compounds of her treatments. Why? Well, the answer is simple. We live in a small Caribbean country where treatments for autoimmune diseases discussed on this blog are not available or even registered on approved lists of medicines by our Department of Health and Medicine. We have no rheumatologist or immunologist officially and permanently practicing in our country. Most basic testing and equipment for testing isn’t even possible. Help, diagnosis and treatment for any autoimmune issues such as AE depend on your ability to leave the country for foreign soil – a bordering country that faces almost the same challenges – or – if you can, find your way to a medical facility in the United States. That said, a reminder that in our side of the world, medical insurance is not much of an option and medical aid is non-existent, not such is seen in first world / western countries.
Thus, we will tell our story of OUR JOURNEY into the world of AE from the perspective of a mom and a teen dealing with AE and its challenges while living in a developing country, with limited resources and medical challenges of its own.
Our family gets introduced to AE:
We live our life in what most would see as paradise (to vacation of course, but not to live here full time). It’s a strip of land in Central America, where sea and rainforest literally meet in my yard. The country’s population hardly exceeds 350 000 people. A relatively proper trauma hospital is 3.5 hours’ drive away. We have less then 10 ventilator units available in our whole entire country. In our area, an ambulance service only became available to the public in the past two years. What we call our go-to hospital, contains maybe 10 private rooms and 4 ICU beds. It’s in the same city 3.5 hours away where our journey with AE starts.
It’s in the same small city where a bright overachieving teenager attends a private school on a scholarship that she arranged for herself. At this school, 3.5 hours away from her home and family, she exceeds academically and in swimming and cycling. She spends her vacations on internships with the zoo and other Environmental Camp fighters and dreams of becoming a forensic scientist. She is being honored and awarded for her achievements thus far at a ceremony that I am on my way to, when I get the call. She collapsed at school. Someone thinks they saw her have epileptic like fits in her initial fall before she went down 3 flights of stairs and now, they struggle to get her to respond. I drive like a maniac. Never did I once consider that this manic behavior of mine might be the first, but it wouldn’t be the only. It would also be the first of hundreds of hours at a small hospital bed.
An initial 7 hospitals later, an endless number of tests, with some even more than 3 times. The start of the illumination process is the worst. Until finally, our wonderful and caring doctor that started the journey with us, refers us to a pediatric neurologist in Mexico. We need answers, he says…and I can’t find them. His specialty, an internationally recognized leader in the field of intensive care medicine countless times awarded for his contribution to the world of critical care. Currently head of the World Federation of Intensive and Critical Care, and he hugged her as he said, I have no answers – we need to look elsewhere. Discharged from the hospital and equipped with every possible test we could do; we start our first of many travels to a foreign country for help. In the meantime, while other strange signs and symptoms seems to be adding themselves to the strange list: the seizures being the worst. They become more: more in quantity and more frequent; more varied and lasting longer, more violent and with more and more strange aftereffects.
Our first visit to the fancy hospital with all its modern medical equipment and eloquent staff in Mexico, yielded nothing much. No one can tell us why after seizures, my daughter might wake up with no ability to hear or speak or see. They don’t understand why her mobility is slipping away and exhaustion is the order of every day. They don’t know how frightened I am, as a mom, of those seizures and the devastation they leave behind. How can I encourage her not to fear them if I just want to run when it happens? She experiences time lapses and gets locked up in a world we left behind many, many years ago. She will wake up not recognizing anyone around her, being familiar only with the people places and routines she had as a four-year-old. Her mobility slipped away and as she stated: her battery seems to never charge to more than maybe 15%. And here we are, with their modern big machines and their extended knowledge: and still can’t find answers. With a prescription for anti-seizure meds in hand, we are sent home again. Here, between clinical walls and suites, I encountered that these people think that not only am I crazy, but I tolerate the tantrums of a teenager.
Despondent, we start the trek home again. On our road trip home, she gets sick again. Seizures are out of control and we end up in the ER of yet another small hospital in a rural area of a foreign country where the neurosurgeon is stunned, once again. A 5 day stay here ends in disaster and we are forced to make our way again to the fancy, big city hospital and its eloquent staff and amazing technology. Maybe this time the big machines and clever people will come up with reasons and plans. By this time, I have had to do CPR on my kid to keep her alive, I have watched her heart stop and her lungs refuse to breathe more than 3 times. I have heard her tell me worms are eating at her brain. I have watched her fight back tears, because she doesn’t recognize who she is nor those closest to her. She cries herself to sleep for loved ones that have passed on, because in her 4-year-old reality, she has her cat, her teddy and her grandpa that fixes everything. And making her drink medication is a nightmare – because as a kid, her mom taught her to take no medication from strangers and never take pills or tablets, only the blue flu medication or the red fever medication are for children. And children only get gummy vitamins. Those same things I taught her to keep her safe so many years ago, came back to bite me when I least expected! I have seen her walk into this hospital, but lose feeling and mobility in her lower body overnight. I have watched her have tremors in the right side of her body equal to that of a Parkinson’s patient, to the point that she screams in pain and exhaustion. I have watched her lose her hearing and sight for 17 days before it slowly returned after having seizures. And finally, I have seen a psychiatrist wonder about a possible diagnosis of Munchhausen by proxy for me and psychological diagnosis for my daughter.
I felt like I had watched her die and be brought back to life again and again. She returned from the dead, because the tiny Spanish neurologist had the hardest possible words to tell me. She told me that there was one more possible treatment that she could suggest, but if this did not work – that she gave up. That treatment she referred to was the life giving liquid in a glass bottle called IVIG. After the 11th stay in hospital – the longest stay in hospital so far – a stay of three weeks – we finally got to leave Mexico with a wheelchair and a diagnosis: Acute Poly Reticular Neuropathy and Autoimmune Encephalitis.
What we didn’t know was that there would still be hundreds of tremors, a total of 27 hospital stays in 2 years and a balancing act requiring the skill of a brilliant acrobat. It was a bittersweet day, the day we left that hospital. There now was a paper – on this paper it finally had named this thing that had happened to my superhero and my family. But a paper was only a paper. It wasn’t and still isn’t a cure. The road we travel as a family hasn’t become less complicated after being diagnosed. Even with the introduction of steroids and immune suppression meds, we still fight a battle. I say we fight – because you might think that it’s a person being diagnosed, but it’s not. In the case of AE – it’s a family that gets diagnosed. It affects and changes everyone.
How has AE affected me as a mom?
Well, there’s the days I blame myself, of course, if I only know what I did wrong. After all – she came from my DNA, she has my genes! There are the days I watch her with immense pride, she fights hard for the good days and for AE not to consume her life. There are the days I can hardly see through my eyes, because they swim in tears all day for what she has to go through. I struggle to find balance – I have two other teens that do not require AE attention, but deserve dedication and attention just the same. We no longer have a social life, it’s just easier not to have to explain and when I do go out, I worry more about what is happening back home, while I am not there, than enjoy the pleasures of where I am. I constantly wait for that call. I don’t plan vacations or spend money easily. I feel too guilty. Because I know, those funds will soon be needed for a hospital bill. We moved here initially to have a sun, sea and sand filled, uncomplicated, simple life, but simple, uncomplicated Caribbean life flew out the window when AE moved in. I find myself spending my days doing EMS courses and increasing my knowledge and skills in emergency response and pre-hospital care. I have learned to make notes, lists and video clips of episodes, signs and symptoms, because in explaining to medical minds, my word isn’t enough. I have learned to leave the routines and responsibly of ordinary life for tomorrow when today is a good day. More important and fun things should be done on a good day. I have learned the functions and importance of vitamins and minerals in aiding as building blocks and planning proper meals to keep her as healthy as possible. I’ve lost my job and lost my income a few times over, as a single mom with a sick kid. I’ve learned of the secret powers I have in giving injections into a small frame with no muscle tissue, and not to bruise or hurt. (I still don’t know why it hurts me more to inject her than it hurts her to get injected!) I have learned its never a good day to give up, and if you dig deep out of desperation, you are always stronger than you think. I have learned that it still takes the love of community to raise a kid……and finally, I learned that I gave birth to a superhero.
What would a typical flare up look like for her?
The first night she might spend wrestling a major headache. The incredible body aches and inability to move her joints will follow soon. She will spend the second day in bed. Unending exhaustion winning the power struggle. When friends or loved ones come to check on her or visit, the mask goes up…the physical one and the mental one…and she tries her utmost to hide her pain, exhaustion and irritability. By the next afternoon she will be rolled up in a little ball on the couch and the intense nausea starts. She will struggle to focus, and the world appears lopsided. Nothing helps for the intense headache, nothing takes away the joint pain, nothing helps the brain focus and then one by one the extremities stop working… first, the legs and last in line, the neck. She becomes flaccid. She will take short naps and various things can present itself when she wakes up such as waking up with an intense tremor, a shaking like that of someone diagnosed with Parkinson’s, mostly on the right side of her body. Vomiting bitter tasting bile, imbalance or complete loss of feeling. Sound would be muffled as if under water. But still, she will keep her sense of humor, knowing that this unstoppable and uncontrollable shaking usually indicates that big bad seizures are coming, all we can do is wait. She will carry on with normal activities until she just can’t anymore.
Life gets adjusted on days like these. Siblings swap out chores. She can’t hold things in her hand that well and most days can hardly stand by herself. The sicker she gets, the weaker she gets, the more we are all on edge. Less laughs, less noise, less leaving the house for any reason…the sicker she gets, the more the other two siblings automatically step in to help where they can. They each know their routines when it becomes a life and death crisis. One is responsible for clearing a pathway for EMS, the other phones grandma and the ambulance, if necessary. Mom does damage control, mom things. Most of the time, walking is impossible, unless it means grandpa or I do the weight bearing part, and she hangs on and shuffles her feet. Hours and hours of sleeping…and even so, there is no relief from the exhaustion. Sometimes she wakes up to a world of silence and solitude. It takes hours and hours before you hear her use her voice. Her sentences are mostly three words long and leaves her out of breath. We wobble to the lounge so she can eat and feel part of family life for a short while, but the plate of food goes untouched. All that made its way to her stomach is glass after glass of water, and a cup of chamomile tea. She asks to go back to her bed, and we wobble our wobble waltz together.
It’s been two years of wobble waltz around the house when this happens, so we are good at it by now. I put her to bed, and she holds on, the way she did when she was two or three or four and had to fall asleep again after a nightmare. I lie down beside her, and she snuggles. I love snuggles. But these kinds make me incredibly sad. Just before she falls asleep again, she pounds her chest or head and tells me how sore it is. It happens all the time in flare ups. Chest and lung muscles contract and spasm…just like her hand and leg, even though we can’t see it. She falls asleep and silently the rest of the house carries on with being, waiting patiently to see, when she wakes up…what senses will work, what will not…and we wait on the unspoken reality of how each one will adjust their role to accommodate the unruly, selfish, strong-willed, inconvenient and uncontrollable family member called AE.
On the days that are in between good and bad, she will wake up after a few hours’ sleep when half a human being would be found standing in the kitchen, eyes wild and movements robot-like. Hey, my love …are you awake? …my words will meet a confused face…and tears will start flowing again. I got lost, she will say, and her reply will break my heart. “Went to bathroom. Can’t find my bed.” I will dry the tears, mine and hers. I will be grateful she recognizes me, even if she doesn’t know where she is. It’s better than the few times that she didn’t recognized her loved ones and siblings for days. Her legs worked! That will be what I think to myself as I tuck her back in and she holds on for dear life…. Maybe tomorrow it’s over…and silently, with no discussion needed…. life will resume again…normal life…when a normal day does resume. When everyone does their normal chores, when everyone is required to use their own feet…when AE leaves our house in order for a few weeks…. till the full blown ‘ I’m back!!!…stops us in our tracks and plan B protocol falls wordlessly in place…. again.
From the perspective of my superhero daughter after one year with AE:
Dear AE,
Autoimmune encephalitis, neuropathy, high functioning O.C.D, anxiety, depression, functional neurological Disorder, AFM, and any other diagnosis doctors have come up with:
14 years old. What a great age to be alive, guess what … NOPE. High school, new experiences and the best four years of your life… NOPE. Parties and events, a social life… NOPE.
Now, this post is long overdue, trust me I know, I have written this post over and over and over again but how do you begin to explain 27 months of living hell with an illness your medical teams in 3 countries aren’t agreeing exists or that you have?
How do you tell people that you aren’t trying to be rude by not answering messages or leaving them on social media, but you just don’t have the strength mentally nor physically to respond to all the questions they have?
How do you say that just opening your eyes in the morning knowing you have to deal with pain, sadness and hurt over and over again is exhausting and just wishing that it was a dream you would wake up from?
How do you say taking medication that drains you, makes you vomit, makes you cry and outright turns you into a zombie is what you wake up to every morning and say goodnight to before you get to bed?
How do you tell people the reason I may not contact you or show up to events you invited me to, is not because I’m uptight or snobby, but because I don’t want to be seen in public on a bad day when I’ve been crying and have raccoon eyes and look like I haven’t slept in days? I don’t want to be seen in a state of tremors and seizures and have to explain what happens and why.
How do you tell someone that you don’t mean any disrespect, but you don’t want to hear about the great day they’ve had with their friends or where they went, because you’ve been stuck in either a hospital bed or in your home for months on end and even just normal breathing feels like it’s too much to accomplish?
How do you tell people that needles no longer phase you, to a point where you find veins for nurses to take blood from, because only you know how and where to poke? Others lose count.
So, I say thank you to everyone who is patient and takes the time out of their day to message me and ask me how I’m doing and if I don’t answer I promise I’ll get to it maybe about 6 years from now, just give me some time.
BUT:
My chronic illness will not define me!
My chronic illness will not consume me!
My chronic illness will not be who I am!
I am still the Ayisha you met many years ago or even recently.
Just with a new point of view on life.
Ayisha’s perspective after two years with AE:
Here is to two years of finding a new perspective. I don’t remember much about how I felt on this day last year or 2 years ago. I know only the ins and outs of consciousness and the sharp pain shooting all over my body. But the people who have been there from the beginning will forever remain in my memory.
Here’s to Salima for picking me up off the ground where I passed out and waiting with me in the sick bay until someone could come get me, and the rest of my class who refused to leave my side. To doctor Hidalgo who made even the worst of times in hospital feel like home, to the nurses who became part of the family and always made me smile, to my amazing family, friends, community and school for showing me that it truly takes a village to raise a child. To Roselyn and Kyla who made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe. To Maddy who took the day off school to bring mint chip ice cream and Daniella who sat by my bedside helping me make a carrier for our baby egg project. I cry as I type this, reminiscing on the all the memories, I have of the past 2 years, to the friends I made and lost, to the ones who started my journey with me and are no longer here to see me find my way. Your life stories will never be forgotten for every single one of you hold a place in my heart.
These past 2 years have not been easy. I might not have said it but there were many a times I wanted to give up, sit in a corner wallowing in pain and just hope at some point it would all go away. Yet, every time, my mom was there to pick me right back up again. To every tear you shed and every time you slept on a couch in my hospital room, to all the pain you made better and jokes you told and let me not forget the muscles you built up dragging me around the house and pushing my wheelchair. Mom, I take my hat off to you, you are the strongest person I know and the most amazing Mom I could have asked for.
To everyone who prayed for me, I cannot express how much love and gratitude I have to share, and I pray that for every battle you face in life the good deeds you have done overshadow the bad. To every stranger who stared or ignored my presence because they were too afraid of what they might say, thank you for you only made me stronger… furious sometimes but stronger. To every person who smiled as I wheeled by, thank you, your smile made my day a lot better. And to everyone who never gave up on me…. the biggest thanks go to you. I wouldn’t have made it through this time without all of these people, I’m sorry I can’t mention you all by name, but you know who you are.
The one thing I can say for certain about these past 2 years, is that I wouldn’t have changed a thing, my journey will someday be the guidelines for someone else to follow and, hopefully, make it just that much easier. And last but not least to AE for kicking my butt and keeping me on my toes, without you I wouldn’t have found my new appreciation for life and the strength I now have in my faith… so thank you.
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.
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