I started this book last night, and couldn't put it down until I finished it this morning. I know her story all too well as I've been in a similar dark place myself. Aphasia, myoclonus, amnesia, jemais vu, hyperesthesia, allodynia, hemiparesis, paresthesia, cognitive impairment, impaired executive function, depersonalization, neuropsychological assessments, hemiplegic, acephalgic -- words that began to define my life just last year.
Her story is a remarkable one, but as a journalist, I believe she downplayed the emotions that this kind of brain sickness evokes. The fear that comes with not remembering, of losing your cognitive abilities -- unable to read, write, make decisions, follow instructions. The defeat from inconclusive tests, doctors with no answers, even doubting your psychological health. The utter loss of self, of what makes you YOU. Wondering if you'll ever be "you" again, mourning the loss of who you used to be. Finally the celebration, that turning point, the triumph when you overcome your obstacles to write that first article again (or in my case pass that exam.) But really, can anyone accurately describe those feelings?
Fortunately for both of us, the slope of the line was up. But without those genius doctors to pinpoint a diagnosis, to prescribe the right treatment, without the strength of family and friends to stick with us through it all, would we have shared the same outcome? Like Susannah, I worry about those that are less fortunate, those that fall through the cracks. I appreciate how hard it must have been for her to relive it all in order to put her story out there, and I am grateful for the number of people she has helped as a result.