Cook County News Herald

Unorganized Territory

Back on my feet



 

 

At least a couple of times a week, I have someone pointedly ask me, “And how is your health?”

Although it’s been two years since I was stricken with Guillain- Barre Syndrome (GBS), an autoimmune disorder that affected my nervous system, people have not forgotten that incredibly frightening time in my life. I am constantly amazed at how much people care.

I documented the experience in my weekly Unorganized Territory and readers commiserated with me as I suffered the shock of losing muscle movement and motor skills because of the syndrome. They empathized as I spent Christmas, and then New Year’s Eve in the hospital and at Miller-Dwan Rehab. And people cheered me on as I recovered— moving from wheelchair to walker to canes to just-about-normal life once again—over a period of about six months.

Now, two years later, I have relatively few effects of GBS. I have some lingering numbness in my hands and feet, which increases when I get tired. But there are a lot of people with similar symptoms because of pinched nerves or diabetes or other diseases. I can’t complain.

So when people ask how I’m feeling, I generally reply, “Pretty darn good!”

I do however, have flashbacks. The events of the holiday season coincided with the onset of my illness, so normal holiday activities trigger memories of that confusing and frightening time.

Seeing the advertisement for the Grand Marais Chamber of Commerce Christmas Home Lighting Contest reminds me of one of the first signs of Guillain- Barre. Jeff Buetow and Vicki Grafton were the winners of the contest in December 2007. I headed to their house to get a photo of the prize-winning lights. But when I kneeled to take the picture, my knees gave out. I tumbled into the snow bank and was unable to get up. Jeff had to haul me back to my feet—not an easy task!

A few days later, I felt weak walking from my car to the office in the cold morning air. I could barely lift my foot to make it up the first step. I struggled to walk and carry my briefcase. Publisher Deidre hurried out and helped me up the steps.

I knew something was wrong, but what? Things got progressively worse and at my granddaughter’s holiday dance recital I could hardly stand without support.

Finally I was completely unable to move on my own and I was admitted to the neurology ward of St. Mary’s Hospital in Duluth. After a few days I had a reason, a diagnosis for what was happening. But that didn’t make the experience less scary.

I still wake up once in awhile frightened about trying to move—what if I can’t? What if I’m back to being unable to roll over all by myself?

However, the flashbacks also include memories of the amazing support of the folks at Sawtooth Mountain Clinic, who sent me off to Duluth with hugs and reassurance; of the doctors and nurses at St. Mary’s who were gentle and caring; and to the doctors, nurses, and therapists at Miller-Dwan who convinced me that I would be myself again.

I remember the day that I cried after opening our cell phone bill—three times higher than normal because of all the calls we’d been making home to family from Duluth—and then getting a phone call saying that friends were organizing a benefit to help us financially while I couldn’t work.

I remember getting wheeled down to the hospital computer to read encouraging CaringBridge notes. I smile when I think of all the cards and letters that decorated my hospital room wall.

One of the most vivid memories of the whole experience is of my first trip home from Miller- Dwan rehab. As we pulled into our driveway for my first day home in about a month, a song by country singer Rodney Atkins came on the radio—If You’re Going Through Hell. The song lyrics had me sobbing. Atkins could have written the song just for me, especially the verse that declares:

But the good news is there’s angels everywhere out there on the street

Holdin’ out a hand to pull you back up on your feet

Theones that you’ve been draggin’ for so long.

You’re on your knees might as well be prayin’…

I still can’t listen to that song without getting a lump in my throat. But it’s a song of celebration now—I crank it up as loud as I can play it and sing along at the top of my lungs. There truly are angels all around me and they really did pull me back up on my feet.

Thank you all!

If you’re goin’ through hell keep on going

Don’t slow down, if you’re scared don’t show it

You might get out before the devil even knows you’re there

When you’re goin’ through hell, keep on movin’

Face that fire, walk right through it

You might get out before the devil even knows you’re there

Rodney Atkins


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