Privately in the same month, I go to see my first neurologist - Dr W. Relief! He does a very few basic tests. ‘You clearly have a neurological problem.’
In my naivety, I assume this is good news. They will tell me what is wrong and cure me. Bliss! I am referred for a lot of scans and tests. I discover the claustrophobic condition of EVERY scanner! I know that I am totally unfazed by needles.
All the tests show nothing. How can this be? I continue to get worse. I cannot walk without support. I am in the city, trying to cross the road. I cannot step down a kerb. My colleagues, ahead, turn. ‘Come on, what’s wrong?’ With a huge mental effort, I make myself step forward. I know now that I had lost my sense of spatial awareness – that is the connection between mind and body that allows you to move in the knowledge that you are safe. My mind was not receiving the ‘safe’ messages and was stopping me from moving.
A huge work project was successfully concluded in November – the month of my birthday. EaZyD and I headed off to our favourite country hotel. I took a bath, long and slow, before dinner. I tried to get up and out of the bath. I couldn’t get up. Frantically, I called EaZyD. He was puzzled. I was weeping. He got in the bath, with towel, and hauled me upright. With his help, I climbed, shakily out of the bath. We were both stunned and afraid. We drove home the next day.
In early December, Dr W calls. He thinks I have a blood clot on my brain. Within four days, I am in hospital. I spend December undergoing hundreds of scans and tests. All they are able to establish is that there is a blockage in my spine stopping the messages going through from head to legs. They do not know why. I now cannot stand, let alone walk! I go home in a wheelchair for Christmas. I go back to hospital straight after the New Year. Bring on 1998…it must be a better year?
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