continued from part 1, HERE
As a tot my heroine was Wonder Woman. Beautiful, strong, justice fighter and feminist icon, I didn't just look up to her. I wanted to BE her. According to family lore, my parents took me to Penney's to buy my very own Wonder Woman costume. This was in the late 1970s and I was about 3. They had other costumes in stock but not Wonder Woman. No other costume would do so I stood my ground and we left empty handed. My Aunt Sandy was living in Florida at the time and she went on a search and found it. Back then we had to wait for Saturday morning to watch cartoons. The way my mom tells it, I woke up early in anticipation of the show and put on my costume believing that it would give me the same powers as the Amazonian Princess. When my powers failed to materialize I had a complete meltdown, barging in on my still sleeping parents. In my first identity crisis I screamed in disbelief that it wasn't working and where was my invisible jet?!
I consider myself to be young, even at 37, with more of my life ahead of me than behind. My purpose here on this planet is to be a justice fighter and I accept that role with joy. When I take a step back and look at my life I am amazed at what I've survived and what I have accomplished either in spite of or as a result of some pretty heavy experiences. Whether it be my work in high school and college in child abuse prevention, my years of community service through AmeriCorps*VISTA, my 20s in domestic violence intervention, or my 30s as an advocate for the disability community, I am honored to serve the underserved and blessed to have found work that shares my focus.
My pain, numbness, and increasing weakness were no longer just annoyances. It was stopping me in my tracks, preventing me from my work. Weeks of conservative care didn't help so I saw a neurologist who ordered an MRI of my C-spine. Our assumption was that I had a bulging disk in my neck that was pinching a nerve. I was given a CD of the MRI images and it was clear that my disc between C4/C5 was herniated. The radiologist posted the written report on-line which I accessed through my health care website on a Sunday morning. I spent the better part of the day combing through the one page report.
Going only to well respected medical sites I meticulously deciphered each finding and reported them one by one to Mark. He was dubious about my layman interpretations and reminded me that we would be meeting with the neurologist in a few days. "Leave it alone," he insisted.
By late Sunday afternoon I felt confident in my understanding of mild endplate irregularity, discogenic marrow signal change, mild to moderate loss of height and signal, marked hyperplasia, uncinate hypertrophy causing moderate to severe neuroforaminal stenosis and paracentral disc protrusion that focally deforms the ventral theca. As a Momologist I do not need to have a degree in neurology to read and grasp medical terminology. We Momologists hone skills out of necessity to help our children with special needs.
The third impression in the report is the one that made my blood run cold. Posterior disc bulge at C4/C5 that compresses the spinal cord, eccentric to the left. The central cord shows associated focal T2 hyper intensity at this level consistent with myelomalacia from chronic impression. The report lists 5 impressions. Why the radiologist stuck this one smack dab in the middle baffles me. Irrational, I raged at the injustice of the order of findings that in my mind should have been ranked in some kind of order that made sense, such as; least important to most pressing or the reverse.
Myelomalacia. I searched and searched for more information, desperate enough to peek at Wiki. Mark categorically dismissed my discoveries, even taking away my computer and insisting that we wait to hear from the neurologist, but I knew what I read. I spent the rest of the Sunday and Monday in a very dark place. Then, in the middle of the night I woke up for no reason feeling a peace I did not understand and I knew everything would be alright.
We saw my neurologist who confirmed in the first 30 seconds with him what I had already come to accept. I have a bulging disc that has been protruding into my spinal cord for some time causing damage that is likely permanent. Without surgery it would progress but it would not improve my condition. Mark went pale and got very quiet. I knew he was entering the dark place that I had been just a few days prior. My doctor did a EMG and found that my nerves are fine, giving further support to laying blame for my symptoms firmly at the feet of the spinal cord damage. We left with an appointment to see a neurosurgeon.
In some ways I had come to believe I was a mild version of Wonder Woman or that I at least emulated her in some ways, but my body had failed me and my super powers weren't working.
continued in part 3, HERE