Last year, I was walking down the stairway at my new job. It was normal August day. It had started perfectly, and work was going well. But as I descended, my body went numb. It was so quick I had very little time to steady myself.
As I fell onto the landing below me, my hearing went. I struggled into my pocket, grabbed my cell, and as I searched for my co-worker’s number, my vision began to dim. I clicked an entry – I was praying it was her – and thankfully, it had been. I couldn’t hear, and now I couldn’t see. But I whispered out, “help I’m on the stairs” before I dropped the phone.
She found me. Helped me, blind and deaf, into the building. Once I recovered, I was able to talk them out of phoning for an ambulance. Instead, I phone my physical therapist and he saw me 10 minutes later. Once his magical hands were done, I was able to walk out, get in my car, and drive home. I wasn’t 100%, but I was functional. And within 4 hours after that, I was perfectly fine.
It’s been 1 year this month since I have had a basilar artery migraine. 1 free year of pain, and numbness, and blindness, and deafness. 1 year in which I have been able to work outside the home. It’s been beyond wonderful.
When I suffered from these horrible migraines, I feared committing to anything. How could I know I would be OK 1, 2, 3 weeks from now. I didn’t even want to plan 1 day in the future. I hate letting people and myself down.
The first time I saw my physical therapist, I hated him. I thought my neurologist had given up on me. How was this guy to help me if a whole list of medication couldn’t for long?
I am glad I gave it a try. I am glad I stuck with him. Every time I felt like giving up – the results were just not coming fast enough – he never gave up on me. He empowered me, as good clinician should, and said he wasn’t going to stop until I was pain-free.
He is getting a big card from me this month. He changed my life. He gave it back.