My story

I have received quite a few requests from my new friends and acquaintances to share my story. I am trying to figure out how to summarize a couple of years of doctors, long hospital stays, many "death sentences", strokes, adventures, blood clots, experimental treatments, seizures, and miracles into a  readers digest version instead of a full length novel. Here goes my best attempt.

Two years ago I went in for a pretty routine robotic surgery to correct some hysterectomy complications. I spent my overnight observation without too many problems. On the way home, all of a sudden I felt a pain in my abdomen that hurled me into a ball accompanied by a intense headache which caused a audible gasp and scream. Something was terribly wrong. My husband took me to the nearest ER where the trauma team began treating me. Imaging tests showed massive internal bleeding. 

The details get crazy from there but it was later determined that I suffered a massive stroke and had lost over half the blood in my body due to my vaso-vagal nerve being cut during surgery. My body rejected the blood leaving doctors to believe the wrong blood type was administered. 

Shortly thereafter instead of healing from the surgery repair, I actually became sicker. I started passing out, completely losing consciousness and was having seizures. I spent so much time in the hospital with the doctors trying to understand what happened and what was going on with my body. Stroke rehab helped my be able to walk again and gain added strength in my arm and hand. 

A year went by with me growing sicker, the seizures becoming more intense and the passing out became a daily occurrence. I saw more doctors than I can remember and spent a lot of my time in testing and in hospital stays. My heart was not beating correctly and would drop into the teens and lower if I laid flat. My blood pressure and heart rate was so faint it was barely keeping me alive. The cardiac electrophysiologist determined my heart was okay but my brain was not telling my heart to beat and he sent me to am autonomic neurologist. 

By the time I saw this doctor I was so incredibly sick. I spent weeks in the hospital enduring tests and being poked by thousands of needles. With my heart rate and blood pressure so low, no anesthesia could be given. It was determined that I had a rare disease that the doctors knew about but there was no cure and it was still in experimental stage with not much information known on the illness. I was diagnosed with autonomic neuropathy, peripheral neuropathy, dysautanomia, vasovagal syncope and an autoimmune disorder. 

The doctor called Thomas and I in to discuss options. The doctors informed us that no one had lived longer than four months with the disease and I was already at a year. The odds of surviving were almost zero. The doctors would basically treat symptoms and make me comfortable. We begged for options and agreed to try anything experimental. There was one option given that only gave me a 10% chance of surviving but was told it may help. What other choice did I have? Die or try. We were told the odds were so slim. I would have no immune system so if I developed the flu, pneumonia or illness, I could not survive it. The chances of developing meningitis were over 50% and again, if acquired, death would be imminent. 

A week later, I started a six phased experimental immune system transplant type treatment. Massive amounts of IVIG were given to try and kill the fighter cells that were attacking my body. Day one, emergency medications were used when they thought my body was starting to slip into meningitis but I came out ok. Day two, the symptoms began again and this time I was not as fortunate. I developed meningitis. Day three of treatments were cancelled. By Friday, my husband called the doctor and he was told that with the meningitis, it was over. I was too sick to survive the hospital with all the germs and illnesses. My immune system had been wiped out. He needed to say goodbye and bring me to the hospital. 

Instead, hands were laid on my head and a priesthood blessing was administered. I became very ill but my husband kept me at home. I was not responding, couldn't eat or drink and lay still, coma-like, for two days. On Sunday, my church family prayed and fasted for me. That night, although so incredibly sick, I was able to respond. The doctors were shocked that I survived. A month later I went in for round three. Round four brought pneumonia which again, no antibiotics could be given and my body had no immune system to fight any disease. Another month and thru the miracles of our Savior, I was again able to fight my way back to be healthy enough to go in for my fifth treatment. Again, pneumonia and pleurisy developed and I grew gravely ill. All future treatments were cancelled and I was told there was nothing left to do but treat symptoms and try to make me comfortable. 

I continued to get sicker and sicker. I didn't know where to turn. Help was no where to be found. On top of this, January rolled around and with incredible medical bills, no doctors would treat unless we could come up with cash. The entire situation seemed hopeless. 

Without me saying anything, my sister knew that on top of all our medical bills, my $5000 deductible would have to be met again. She started "Cupcakes for a Cure" and sold cupcakes to raise money for me to see a new doctor. The generosity and love poured in. With cash from the cupcake sells in hand, I was able to schedule a couple of appointments. These new doctors tried figuring out if they could keep my heart from shutting down while others tried figuring out the neurological aspect of the disease. By this time, the autoimmune disease was killing me and organ at a time. Blood clots were rampant within my body and it was determined that I had taken many hits causing strokes and aneurysms. 

I could barely walk, and only with help. I sat on the couch almost paralyzed. The seizures were daily. The passing out occurred every couple of hours. I was struggling to catch a breath. Swallowing was so difficult. My body was so weak. I text-ed more than talked because of the extreme effort that it took to catch my breath and form words. 

The cardiac electrophysiologist called on a Friday in March and told me to get all my affairs in order. The testing that was required had such a high expectation of a blood clot letting loose that they would have three surgeons and a team of doctors ready to do surgery, in case a blood clot broke free. I was told the odds of me surviving the tests were minimal. However, there were no other options. Give up or try to see if these tests would reveal any answers. 

On Sunday, with my ward family, friends, my loved ones and many many acquaintances praying and fasting for me, I received a miracle. 

Another priesthood blessing was offered. In it, I was promised that I would find healing. I was promised that the Savior would intervene and breathing would become easier. I was promised people would be brought into my life that would hold the healing that I had been searching for. I was promised life. 

When hands were taken off my head, I took in a huge breath. Breathing hadn't come so easily in over a year. Immediately my heart felt like it was beating in a steady rhythm. I was over joyed and the tears fell freely down my cheeks. I immediately stood and had anticipated my legs working as well as my breathing. I stumbled and my husband caught me. I laughed. I didn't care if I ever walked again. I could breathe. 

I have a long walk back. The testing is still occurring. The doctors are still trying to find answers. Yet I know I hold life saving natural alternatives and the power of the priesthood. 

My Savior gave me the healing to take the first couple of steps down the right road. Since then, he has led me to those that can help me. Through them, their extensive knowledge and their willingness to help me, I know healing will come. 

I am so excited for the future. I think back often to that day in March when hands were laid upon my head and a blessing of healing was pronounced. My loving Savior could have easily brought 100% healing that day. Now, as I find healing, I will be able to teach other about how they can find relief, as well.

I am so excited for the future. The end of my story is still unfolding. I learn more each day. It is a journey but one I am so thankful to be on.