2013년 11월 25일 월요일

오전 11:44

By Coral Vanwormer

In: , , , , , , ,

No comments

About 'suburban home health care'|... that the hospital cared a lot more about my insurance than they did about my health . When it finally DID come time to go home , they were all ...







About 'suburban home health care'|... that the hospital cared a lot more about my insurance than they did about my health . When it finally DID come time to go home , they were all ...








Ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｎｇｏｉｎｇ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｏｆ               ａｒｔｉｃｌｅｓ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｃａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               "Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ…"               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ,               Ｉ               ｄｅｓｃｒｉｂｅ               ａｌｌ               ｓｏｒｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｔｅｓｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａ               ｌａｙｍａｎ'ｓ               ｐｏｉｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｖｉｅｗ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｓｐｉｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｔａｒｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｗｒｙ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｐｏｎｄｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ａｍｏｕｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｏｎｅｙ               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｐａｉｄ               ｉｎ               ＨＭＯ               ｃｏ-ｐａｙｍｅｎｔｓ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｔ               ｙｅａｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｆｉｇｕｒｅｄ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｗｒｉｔｅ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｓ               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｙ               ｅｘｐｅｎｓｉｖｅ               ａｎｄ               ｆｒｕｓｔｒａｔｉｎｇ               ｙｅａｒ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｅｖｅｎ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｗｅｂｓｉｔｅ               Ａｓｓｏｃｉａｔｅｄ               Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ               ｏｆｆｅｒｓ               (ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ)               ｍｏｎｅｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａｒｔｉｃｌｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｕｓ,               Ｉ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ａｌｌｏｗ               Ａｓｓｏｃｉａｔｅｄ               Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｏｔ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｂｉｌｌｓ,               ａｌｂｅｉｔ               ｓｌｏｗｌｙ,               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ               ｅｘｏｒｃｉｓｅｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｄｅｍｏｎｓ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｉｎｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｊｕｓｔｉｃｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｍｉｎｅ.

Ｂｕｔ               ｗｒｉｔｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               "Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ…"               ａｒｔｉｃｌｅｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｒｅｃｅｎｔ               ｗｅｅｋｓ.

Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｌｉｖｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｃｏｎｆｏｕｎｄｉｎｇ               ｈｏｄｇｅ               ｐｏｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ,               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｍｉｓｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｍａｎｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｔｔｅｍｐｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｏｌｖｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｕｚｚｌｅ,               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｓｔａｔｅ�ｈａｓ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ.

Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｈａｖｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｐｅｌ               ｏｎｅ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｉｓ               ａｎｄ               ｇｅｔ               ａ               ｎｅｗ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｈｒｏｗｎ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｘ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｌｕｅ.

Ａｓ               ｍｙ               ｈｏｓｔ               ｏｆ               ï¿½ｏｌｏｇｉｓｔｓ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｆｒｕｓｔｒａｔｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｆｒｕｓｔｒａｔｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｉｍａｒｙ               ｃａｒｅ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎ               ａｄｍｉｔｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ               "ｉｎ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｄ"               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｃａｓｅ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｍｙ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               ａｓ               ｔｈｏｒｏｕｇｈｌｙ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ.

Ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｅｌｓｅ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｂｅ               ａｓ               ｉｎｓｐｉｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｖｏｔｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ａｔｔｅｎｔｉｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔ,               ｔｈａｎ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ.

Ｉ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｍｙ               ｏｗｎ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｃａｓｅ.
               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ,               ｍｏｒｅ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ               ａ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｉｎｇ               ｉｌｌｎｅｓｓ,               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｒｋ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｍａｊｏｒ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｃｅｎｔｅｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｉｔｙ               ｏｆ               Ｂｏｓｔｏｎ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｐｒｏｌｉｆｉｃ               ｃｉｔｉｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ.

Ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｎａｔｕｒｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｊｏｂ,               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｃｃｅｓｓ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｄａｔａｂａｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｊｏｕｒｎａｌｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｓｅｃｏｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｎｏｎｅ.

Ｉ               ａｌｓｏ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｏｆ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｎｄｕｃｔ               ａ               ｔｈｏｒｏｕｇｈ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｐａｐｅｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｇａｉｎ               ａｃｃｅｓｓ               ｔｏ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｓｔｕｄｉｅｓ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｏｎ               ｓｐｅｃｉｆｉｃ               ｃｏｎｄｉｔｉｏｎｓ.

Ｓｔｉｌｌ,               Ｉ               ｋｅｐｔ               ｓｔｒｉｋｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔ.

Ｍｙ               ａｒｒａｙ               ｏｆ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｄｉｄｎ'ｔ               ｓｅｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｔ               ａｎｙ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｐａｔｔｅｒｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｄｅｔｅｃｔ.
               Ｂｕｔ,               ｍｏｓｔ               ｆｒｕｓｔｒａｔｉｎｇｌｙ,               ａｓ               ｔｅｓｔｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｕｄｉｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｏｒｄｅｒｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｔｅｒｒｉｂｌｅ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｆｉｎｄｉｎｇ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎ               ｆｏｒ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｅａｃｈ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｍｅ.

Ｗｈｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｆｏｒｍｅｒ               ｐｒｉｍａｒｙ               ｃａｒｅ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｏｒｄｅｒ               ａ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａｎｄ               "ＥＭＧ"               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ｓｈｅ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｉｎｑｕｉｒｉｅｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｅｎｔａｉｌ               ｂｙ               ｓｔａｔｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               "ｅｘａｃｔｌｙ               ｔｏｒｔｕｒｅ."               Ｉｎ               ｓｕｂｓｅｑｕｅｎｔ               ｉｎｔｅｒｎｅｔ               ｓｅａｒｃｈｅｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｎ               ＥＭＧ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｔｅｓｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｕｔｉｌｉｚｅｓ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｓｈｏｃｋｓ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅｓ'               ａｎｄ               ｎｅｒｖｅｓ'               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｓｔｉｍｕｌａｔｉｏｎ,               ｆｏｌｌｏｗｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｐｒｏｃｅｄｕｒｅ               ｉｎ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ａ               ｃｈａｒｇｅｄ               ｎｅｅｄｌｅ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎｓｅｒｔｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ａｒｍｓ               ｏｒ               ｌｅｇｓ               ｔｏ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｒｖｅ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅ.

Ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｎｙ               ｃａｓｅ               ｒｅｐｏｒｔｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｅｖｅｒｙ               ｄａｙ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｗｈｏ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｅｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｏ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｓｈａｒｅ               ｗｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ'ｄ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ.

Ｆｒａｎｋｌｙ,               Ｉ               ｗａｎｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｈｏｗ               ｂａｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ.

Ａｎｄ,               ｔｈｕｓ,               ｍｙ               "Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ…"               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ               ｗａｓ               ｂｏｒｎ.
               Ｓｏ,               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｅ?

Ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｐｕｔ,               Ｉ               ａｍ               ａ               ｓｕｒｖｉｖｏｒ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ.

Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ｔｈｉｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｃｉｄｅｎｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｄ               ｓｏ               ｌｏｎｇ               ａｇｏ,               ｉｔ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ａｆｔｅｒｍａｔｈ               ｏｆ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ               ａｓ               ａ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｃａｕｓｅ               ｏｆ               ａｌｌ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ.

Ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｃｏｎｄｉｔｉｏｎ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄｉｎｇ               ｏｒ               ｓｔｕｄｙ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｓｏ               ｆｅｗ               ｓｕｒｖｉｖｏｒｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｆｉｔ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｃａｔｅｇｏｒｙ,               ａｎｄ,               ｍｕｃｈ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ,               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｄｏ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌｌｙ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｌｉｖｅｓ               ｓｃｒａｔｃｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｈｅａｄｓ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｒａｎｇｅ               ｃｏｎｆａｂｕｌａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｓｅｅｍｉｎｇｌｙ               ｕｎｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｅｄ               ｍａｌａｄｉｅｓ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｕｒｃｅ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ａ               ｐａｒｔｉｃｕｌａｒ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｓａｔｉｏｎ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｐａｒｔｍｅｎｔ               ｏｆ               Ｂｅｈａｖｉｏｒａｌ               Ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｙ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｈａｐｐｅｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｎｔａｉｎ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｐｈｒａｓｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｊｕｘｔａｐｏｓｉｔｉｏｎｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｐｒｏｖｉｄｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｎ               "Ａｈ               ｈａ!"               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｐａｒｔｉｃｕｌａｒ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｗａｓ               ｓａｖｖｙ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｒｅｃｏｇｎｉｚｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｓｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｏｆ               ｓｕｃｈ               ａ               ｔｈｉｎｇ,               ｉｔ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅｑｕｉｒｅ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ｉｎｔｏ.

Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｓａｔｉｏｎ,               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｂｉｄｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               Ｐｕｒｇａｔｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｎｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅｄ,               ｆｅａｒｆｕｌ,               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｅｄ,               ａｎｄ               ｅｘｈａｕｓｔｅｄ.
               Ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｆｉｖｅ               ｏｒ               ｓｉｘ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｏｌｄ,               Ｉ               ｓｎｕｃｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｔｃｈｅｎ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｓｕｂｕｒｂａｎ,               Ｓｏｕｔｈｅｒｎ               Ｃａｌｉｆｏｒｎｉａｎ               ｈｏｍｅ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｄｏｎｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ.

Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｈｉｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｇｅ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｅｓｉｒｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｃｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｓｔｅｐｓ               ａｈｅａｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｏｌｓ               Ｉ               ａｃｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｅｃｕｔｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｎｄｅｐｅｎｄｅｎｃｅ.

Ａｎｄ               ｓｏ,               ｗｈｅｎ               ｉｔ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅａｌｌｙ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｎｉｃｅ               Ｅｎｇｌｉｓｈ               Ｍｕｆｆｉｎ,               ｒａｔｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｎ               ａｓｋ               Ｍｏｍ               ｔｏ               ｍａｋｅ               ｉｔ               (ａｎｄ               ｒｕｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｉｓｋ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏｏ               ｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｕｎｃｈ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｎａｃｋ),               Ｉ               ｆｉｇｕｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｌｉｐ               ｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｍａｋｅ               ｉｔ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ.

Ｈｅｙ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｂｉｇ               ｇｉｒｌ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ'ｄ               ｓｅｅｍ               Ｍｏｍ               ｄｏ               ｉｔ               ｃｏｕｎｔｌｅｓｓ               ｔｉｍｅｓ.
               Ｗｅｌｌ,               ａｓ               Ｅｎｇｌｉｓｈ               Ｍｕｆｆｉｎｓ,               ｗｉｔｈ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｎｏｏｋｓ               ａｎｄ               ｃｒａｎｎｉｅｓ               ａｒｅ               ｗｏｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ,               ｍｙ               ｍｕｆｆｉｎ               ｇｏｔ               ｓｔｕｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏａｓｔｅｒ.

Ｉ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               ｓｏｌｖｅｄ               (ｓｔｉｌｌ               ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ               ｐｒｅｔｔｙ               ｇｏｏｄ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｗ               ｓｋｉｌｌ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｃｑｕｉｒｉｎｇ),               ｇｒａｂｂｅｄ               ａ               ｋｎｉｆｅ               ａｎｄ               ｓｔｕｃｋ               ｉｔ               ｄｏｗｎ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｌｏｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｔｏａｓｔｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｆｆｉｎ               ｆｒｅｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｂａｌｌ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｌｏｏｒ               ａｇａｉｎｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｌｌ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｅｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｔｃｈｅｎ.

Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｈｉｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃ               ｃｏｉｌｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｔｅｒｌｉｎｇ               ｓｉｌｖｅｒ               ｋｎｉｆｅ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｂｌｏｗｎ               ｓｔｒａｉｇｈｔ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅ               ａｉｒ               ａｃｒｏｓｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｉｔｃｈｅｎ,               ｓｔｏｐｐｉｎｇ               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｈｉｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｗａｌｌ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｏｏｍ.

Ｍｙ               ｓｏｂｓ               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｍｙ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ               ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ.

Ｓｈｅ               ｐｉｃｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｕｐ,               ｃｈｅｃｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｖｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｕｐｏｎ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｎｏ               ｂｕｒｎｓ               ｏｒ               ｂｒｏｋｅｎ               ｂｏｎｅｓ,               ｂｒｕｓｈｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｆｆ               ａｎｄ               ｇａｖｅ               ｍｅ               ａ               ｓｃｏｌｄｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｔｉｃｋｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｎｉｆｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏａｓｔｅｒ.

Ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈａｔ.

Ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｓ               ｎｏｗ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｓｉｇｎｉｆｉｃａｎｔ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｓ               ｐｅｒｔａｉｎｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｈｅａｌｔｈ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ａｄｕｌｔ               ｂｅｉｎｇ,               ｗａｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｍａｎｙ,               ｍａｎｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ａｎｅｃｄｏｔｅ.
               Ｎｏｗ,               Ｉ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｐｒｅｆａｃｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｐｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｓｅｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｖａｒｉｏｕｓ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｂｙ               ｓｈａｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ａｍ               ａｎ               ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ               ｃｈｉｌｄ.

Ａｓ               ｍｙ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｑｕｉｒｋｉｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｑｕｉｒｋｉｅｒ,               ｍｙ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｋｎｏｗｌｅｄｇｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｄｉｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ａ               ｒｅｌｉａｂｌｅ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｅａｓｙ               ｔｏ               ｓｈｒｕｇ               ｏｆｆ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｎｃｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               ａｓ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｉｎｈｅｒｉｔｅｄ               ｔｒａｉｔｓ.
               Ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               Ｉ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｓｅｔ               ｏｆ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ａｇｅ               ｏｆ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｗｅｌｖｅ.

Ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ               ａｒｅ               ｆａｉｒｌｙ               ｃｏｍｍｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ａｄｏｌｅｓｃｅｎｃｅ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｔｙｐｉｃａｌ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｂｅｇｉｎ               ｔｏ               ｏｃｃｕｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｍａｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｓｉｇｎｉｆｉｃａｎｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｃｏｍｐａｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅｓ               ｉｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｖｅｒｉｔｙ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｓｔａｂｂｉｎｇ               ｐａｉｎｓ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｄ               ｆａｌｌ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｕｐ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               ｒａｎｇｅ.

Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｐｅｒ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｔｉｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｏｎｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｏｒｋｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｅ,               Ｉ               ｖｏｍｉｔ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               Ｉ               ｅｎｄ               ｕｐ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ               ｒｏｏｍ               ｆｏｒ               ｐａｉｎ               ｃｏｎｔｒｏｌ               ａｎｄ               ＩＶ               ｆｌｕｉｄｓ.

Ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               ａｓ               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｈａｒｄｌｙ               ｕｎｉｑｕｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｉｓ,               ｎｏ               ｓｐｅｃｉａｌ               ｉｎｖｅｓｔｉｇａｔｉｏｎ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｏｕｒｃｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｗａｒｒａｎｔｅｄ.

Ｗｅ               ｄｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｕｓｕａｌ               ｃｈｅｃｋｓ-               ａｎ               ＭＲＩ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒａｉｎ               ｔｏ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｕｍｏｒ,               ｃｈｅｃｋｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌｅｒｇｉｅｓ               ｏｒ               ｓｅｎｓｉｔｉｖｉｔｉｅｓ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｏｄｓ               (ｃｅｒｔａｉｎ               ｆｏｏｄｓ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｃｈｏｃｏｌａｔｅ               ａｎｄ               ａｇｅｄ               ｃｈｅｅｓｅｓ               ａｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｕｌｐｒｉｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｍａｎｙ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ               ｃａｓｅｓ),               ｂｉｏｆｅｅｄｂａｃｋ               ｔｈｅｒａｐｙ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｌｐ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｇａｉｎ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｃｏｎｔｒｏｌ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｎｓｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅｓ.

Ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ,               ｅｔｉｏｌｏｇｙ               ｕｎｋｎｏｗｎ.
               Ｍａｎｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               ｗｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｄ               ｔｗｅｎｔｉｅｓ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｈａｖｅ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｔｒｏｕｂｌｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ａｒｍｓ.

Ｔｈｅｙ               ｇｒｅｗ               ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅｌｙ               ｎｕｍｂ               ｏｖｅｒ               ａ               ｐｅｒｉｏｄ               ｏｆ               ｄａｙｓ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               ｉｔ               ｒｅａｃｈｅｄ               ａ               ｐｏｉｎｔ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈｏｌｄ               ａ               ｐｅｎ.

Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｍｙ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ｗｈｏ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｐｒｏｂａｂｌｙ               ａ               ｐｉｎｃｈｅｄ               ｎｅｒｖｅ,               ａｎｄ               ａｓ               ｉｔ               ｒｅｓｏｌｖｅｄ               ｉｔｓｅｌｆ               ｉｎ               ｔｉｍｅ,               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｍａｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ.

Ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｕｍｂｎｅｓｓ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎ               ａｎｄ               ｄｉｓａｐｐｅａｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｏｎ               ｍｙ               ｆｅｅｔ               ａｎｄ               ｌｅｇｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｄ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ.

Ｉ               ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｍｙ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ,               ｂｕｔ               ｓｈｅ               ｄｉｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｗｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｃａｕｓｉｎｇ               ｉｔ.

Ｉ               ａｌｓｏ               ｒｅｌａｙｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｓｅｎｓｉｔｉｖｉｔｙ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｈａｎｄｓ               ａｎｄ               ｆｅｅｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｃａｓｅ               ｆｏｒ               ａｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅｍｅｍｂｅｒ.

Ｇｒｏｗｉｎｇ               ｕｐ,               Ｉ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｓｔｒｏｎｇ               ｓｋｉｎ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｇｉｒｌ               ｗｈｏ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｒｕｎ               ａｒｏｕｎｄ               ｂａｒｅｆｏｏｔ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｂｌａｃｋ               ａｓｐｈａｌｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｔ               Ｓｏｕｔｈｅｒｎ               Ｃａｌｉｆｏｒｎｉａｎ               ｓｕｎｓｈｉｎｅ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｍｏｖｅ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｖｅｎ               ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ               ａｎ               ｏｖｅｎ               ｍｉｔｔ.

Ａｓ               Ｉ               ｇｒｅｗ,               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｓｕｓｐｅｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ               ｔｈｅｓｅ               ａｂｉｌｉｔｉｅｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｔｈａｎ               "ｓｔｒｏｎｇ               ｓｋｉｎ,"               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｕｍｂｎｅｓｓ               ｂｅｇａｎ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｍｏｒｅ               ｓｕｓｐｉｃｉｏｕｓ,               ｓｔｉｌｌ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｔｅｓｔｓ,               ｉｎｃｌｕｄｉｎｇ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ＭＲＩ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｐｅｒｉｐｈｅｒａｌ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ,               ｅｔｉｏｌｏｇｙ               ｕｎｋｎｏｗｎ
               Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｇｒｏｗ               ｅｖｉｄｅｎｔ.

Ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｃｏｎｓｉｄｅｒｅｄ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｂｉｔ               ａｂｓｅｎｔ               ｍｉｎｄｅｄ,               ｄｅｓｐｉｔｅ               ａ               ｈｉｇｈ               ＩＱ,               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｗｅｒｅ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｃｈａｌｋｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｌａｃｋ               ｏｆ               ａｔｔｅｎｔｉｏｎ               ｏｒ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｙ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｔｉｏｎ               Ｉ               ｍｕｓｔ               ｔａｋｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｙ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅｓ.

Ａｓ               Ｉ               ａｇｅｄ,               ｈｏｗｅｖｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｔｅｒｍ               ｄｅｆｉｃｉｔｓ               Ｉ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓｅｄ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔ               ｍｙ               ｄａｉｌｙ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｒｕｌｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ａｂｓｅｎｔ               ｍｉｎｄｅｄｎｅｓｓ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａｃｃｕｓｅｄ               ｏｆ,               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｒｙｉｎｇ               ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｍｐｅｎｓａｔｅ.

Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｍｙ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ａｇａｉｎ,               ａｎｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｎｅｇａｔｉｖｅ               ＭＲＩ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｔｅｒｍ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｄｅｆｉｃｉｔｓ,               ｅｔｉｏｌｏｇｙ               ｕｎｋｎｏｗｎ.
               Ｔｈｅｎ               ｏｎｅ               ｄａｙ,               ｊｕｓｔ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｓｉｘ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｇｏ,               ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｂｅｃａｍｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｓｃａｒｙ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｈｉｔ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ.

Ｉ               ｃａｎ               ａｌｗａｙｓ               ｄｅｐｅｎｄ               ｏｎ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａｎ               ａｕｒａ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎ               ｈｉｔｓ.

Ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ａｕｒａ,               Ｉ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｂｌｕｒｒｙ               ｓｐｏｔｓ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｖｉｓｉｏｎ,               ｓｅｎｓｉｔｉｖｉｔｙ               ｔｏ               ｌｉｇｈｔ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｕｎｄ,               ａ               ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ               ｃｏｇｎｉｔｉｖｅ               "ｆｕｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ",               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｔｉｎｇｌｉｎｇ               ｓｅｎｓａｔｉｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｓｋｉｎ.

Ｔｈｅｓｅ               ａｕｒａｓ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｌａｓｔ               ａｎｙｗｈｅｒｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｔｅｎ               ｔｏ               ｆｏｒｔｙ-ｆｉｖｅ               ｍｉｎｕｔｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ａｌｔｈｏｕｇｈ               ｔｈｅｙ               ａｒｅ               ｄｉｓｃｏｎｃｅｒｔｉｎｇ,               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｇｏｏｄ               ｗａｒｎｉｎｇ               ｓｉｇｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ｍｙ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｔｉｏｎ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎ               ｃｏｍｅｓ               ｏｎ               (ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ａ               ｄｏｓｅ               ｏｎｃｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ               ｉｓ               ｉｎ               ｆｕｌｌ               ｓｗｉｎｇ               ｉｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ａｎｙｗｈｅｒｅ               ｎｅａｒ               ａｓ               ｅｆｆｅｃｔｉｖｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｐａｉｎ               ｍａｎａｇｅｍｅｎｔ,               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅｓ               ｗｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｃａｌｌ               "ｅｎｔｒｅｎｃｈｅｄ").

Ｔｈｅｎ               Ｉ               ｓｉｍｐｌｙ               ｇｅｔ               ｔｏ               ｗｈｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｕｒａｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ               (ｐｒｅｆｅｒａｂｌｙ               ｈｏｍｅ,               ｗｏｒｋ               ｉｓ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ).

Ｂｕｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｏｒｎｉｎｇ               Ｉ               ｗｏｋｅ               ｕｐ,               ｓｔｏｏｄ               ｕｐ               ｔｏ               ｇｏ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｂａｔｈｒｏｏｍ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ               ｓｔｒｕｃｋ               ｂｙ               ａｎ               ａｂｒｕｐｔ               ｓｕｒｇｅ               ｏｆ               ａｌｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               Ｉ               ｔｙｐｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｆｅｅｌ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ａｎ               ａｕｒａ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｉｍｍｅｄｉａｔｅｌｙ               ｗａｓ               ｈｉｔ               ｂｙ               ａ               ｃｒａｃｋ               ｏｆ               ｐａｉｎ               ｓｏ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ｄｉｒｅｃｔｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ               ｒｏｏｍ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａ               "ｆｌａｓｈ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ",               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ.
               Ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ               ｒｏｏｍ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｎｅｅｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ＭＲＩ               ｔｏ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｕｔ               ａｎｙ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｒａｉｎ.

Ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔａｋｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ,               Ｉ               ｒｅｌａｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｈａｖｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｅｒｉｐｈｅｒａｌ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ.

Ｈｅ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ａ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ               ｉｔ               ｓｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｍ               ｌｉｋｅ               Ｉ               ｓｈｏｕｌｄ               ｂｅ               ｅｘａｍｉｎｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               Ｍｕｌｔｉｐｌｅ               Ｓｃｌｅｒｏｓｉｓ.
               Ａｎｄ               ｉｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ,               Ｉ               ｆｅｌｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｍｙ               ｗｏｒｌｄ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ               ａｐａｒｔ.

Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｍｅｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｎ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｌａｔｅｒ               ｂｅｃｏｍｅ               ｍｙ               ｈｕｓｂａｎｄ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａｎ               ｉｎｃｒｅｄｉｂｌｙ               ｂｕｓｙ               ａｎｄ               ａｃｔｉｖｅ               ｊｏｂ               ｍａｎａｇｉｎｇ               ｇｒｏｕｐ               ｈｏｍｅｓ               ｆｏｒ               ｐｅｏｐｌｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｄｅｖｅｌｏｐｍｅｎｔａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃａｌ               ｄｉｓａｂｉｌｉｔｉｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｆｒａｎｋｌｙ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｐｒｅａｄ               ａ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｔｈｉｎ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｃｏｎｓｉｄｅｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｏｓｓｉｂｉｌｉｔｙ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｄｅｍｙｅｌｉｎａｔｉｎｇ,               ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｌｉｋｅｌｙ               ｌｅａｖｅ               ｍｅ               ｄｉｓａｂｌｅｄ.

Ｃｏｍｐｏｕｎｄｉｎｇ               ｍａｔｔｅｒｓ,               ｍｙ               ｎｅｗ               ｌｉｆｅ               ｐａｒｔｎｅｒ,               ｗｈｏｍ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               (ａｎｄ               ｒｅｍａｉｎ)               ａｂｓｏｌｕｔｅｌｙ               ｃｒａｚｙ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｉｓ               ｂｌｉｎｄ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｒｉｖｅｒ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｈｏｐｐｅｒ.

Ｗｅ               ｈａｄ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｂｅａｕｔｉｆｕｌ               ｄｉｖｉｓｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｌａｂｏｒ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐ               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ,               ｑｕｉｔｅ               ｆｒａｎｋｌｙ,               ｆｒｅａｋｉｎｇ               ｏｕｔ.
               Ｓｏ,               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ｗｈｏ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｏｖｅｒ,               ｐｌａｙｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｉｓ               ｔｕｎｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒｋｓ               ａｎｄ               ｐｏｉｎｔｅｄ               ｓｔｉｃｋｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｍａｇｉｃ               ｗｏｒｄｓ               "ｔｈｉｓ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔ               ＭＳ."               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｏｖｅｒｊｏｙｅｄ.

Ｗｈｅｎ               ｈｅ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒｉｎｇ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               Ｃｈａｒｃｏｔ-Ｍａｒｉｅ-Ｔｏｏｔｈ,               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｃａｒｅｄ               ｌｅｓｓ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｓｏ               ｒｅｌｉｅｖｅｄ.

Ｃｈａｒｃｏｔ-Ｍａｒｉｅ-Ｔｏｏｔｈ,               ｏｒ               ＣＭＴ,               ｉｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ａ               ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ,               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓａｍｅ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ               ｏｆ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅｓ               ａｓ               ＭＳ,               ａｎｄ               ｉｎｖｏｌｖｅｓ               ｎｕｍｂｎｅｓｓ               (ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ)               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｌｉｍｂｓ               ａｎｄ               ａｐｐｅｎｄａｇｅｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓｔｉｎｇ               (ａｔｒｏｐｈｙ)               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｆｔ               ｔｉｓｓｕｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｏｎｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｇｎｉｔｉｖｅ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔｓ,               ｐａｒａｌｙｓｉｓ,               ｏｒ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎ               ａｔｔａｃｋｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ＭＳ               ｃａｎ               ｃａｕｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｏｃｃｕｒ.
               Ｉ               ｗａｌｋｅｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈａｔ               ｏｆｆｉｃｅ               ａ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ｗｏｍａｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｃｉｄｅｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｉｎｋ               ｔｏｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               Ｉ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ               ｈａｄ               ｗｅｌｌ               ｄｏｃｕｍｅｎｔｅｄ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ,               ｍｙ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｓｏｆｔ               ｔｉｓｓｕｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｈｅａｒｔｙ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｌｅ-               ｓｈｏｗｉｎｇ               ｎｏｔ               ｅｖｅｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｌｉｇｈｔｅｓｔ               ｓｉｇｎ               ｏｆ               ａｔｒｏｐｈｙ.

Ｉ               ａｌｓｏ               ｉｇｎｏｒｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｍｙ               ｂｉｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｍｏｔｈｅｒ,               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｋｎｏｗｎ               ｍｙ               ｂｉｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｓｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｎｅｉｔｈｅｒ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｈａｄ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ               ＣＭＴ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｅｘｃｌｕｓｉｖｅｌｙ               ａ               ｈｅｒｅｄｉｔａｒｙ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ.

Ｉ               ｃｈｏｓｅ,               ｉｎｓｔｅａｄ,               ｔｏ               ａｓｓｕｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｉｎｈｅｒｉｔｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｙ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ'ｓ               ｓｉｄｅ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｏｃｃｕｒｒｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｉｍ               ｔｏ               ｄｉｓｃｌｏｓｅ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｐｒｏｇｒｅｓｓｉｖｅ,               ｈｉｇｈｌｙ               ｉｎｈｅｒｉｔａｂｌｅ               (50%               ｃｈａｎｃｅ)               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ               ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ               ｍｙ               ｇｅｎｅ               ｐｏｏｌ.

Ｉｔ               ｓｏｕｎｄｅｄ               ｒｉｇｈｔ               ｔｏ               ｍｅ.
               Ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｔｏ               ｄｗｅｌｌ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｅａｃｈ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｈｅａｌｔｈ               ｃａｒｅ               ｐｒｏｖｉｄｅｒ               ｗｈｏ               ｗｏｒｋｓ               ｗｉｔｈ               ＣＭＴ               ｐａｔｉｅｎｔｓ               (ｐｏｄｉａｔｒｉｓｔｓ,               ａｄａｐｔｉｖｅ               ｂｒａｃｅ               ｓｐｅｃｉａｌｉｓｔｓ,               ｅｖｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｉｍａｒｙ               ｃａｒｅ),               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｒｅｍａｒｋ               ｏｎ               ｈｏｗ               "ａｔｙｐｉｃａｌ"               ｍｙ               ｃａｓｅ               ｗａｓ.

Ｈｅｙ,               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ａ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｉｓ               Ｉ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｗｉｔｈ,               ａｎｄ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ｉｔ               ａｗａｙ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｍｅ.
               Ｏｒ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ.

Ｏｖｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｌａｓｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｈａｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｅｖｏｌｕｔｉｏｎｓ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｏｌｏｇｙ               ｔｈａｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ｆｏｒｃｅｄ               ｍｅ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ａｎ               ｈｏｎｅｓｔ               ｌｏｏｋ               ａｔ               ｍｙ               ｈａｐｐｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ＣＭＴ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｉｓ.

Ａｄｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｒｅａｄｙ               ｓｔｒｕｇｇｌｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ,               ａｂｏｕｔ               21               ｍｏｎｔｈｓ               ａｇｏ               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｖｅｒｔｉｇｏ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｎ               ｉｔｓ               ａｃｕｔｅ               ｓｔａｔｅ               ｗａｓ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ａ               ｍｉｄ               ｌｉｎｅ,               ｐｅｒｓｉｓｔｅｎｔ,               ｃｈｒｏｎｉｃ               ｓｔａｔｅ.

Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｉｍａｒｙ               ｃａｒｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｓｈｅ               ｗａｓ               ｂａｆｆｌｅｄ.

Ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ＭＲＩ               ｍａｃｈｉｎｅ               Ｉ               ｗｅｎｔ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｅｅｎ               ｂｙ               ａｎ               ｏｔｏｌａｒｙｎｇｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ａｎｄ               ａｎ               ａｕｄｉｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ｔｏ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｖｅｓｔｉｂｕｌａｒ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ,               ａｎｄ               ａｌｓｏ               ｈａｄ               ｅｘｔｅｎｓｉｖｅ               ｖｅｓｔｉｂｕｌａｒ               ｔｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｐｅｒｆｏｒｍｅｄ               (ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｐｌｅａｓａｎｔ               ｉｆ               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ａｌｒｅａｄｙ               ｄｉｚｚｙ),               ｓａｗ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｌｄ'ｓ               ｌｅａｄｉｎｇ               ｓｐｅｃｉａｌｉｓｔ               ｉｎ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｖｅｒｔｉｇｏ,               ａｎｄ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ.

Ｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｙ               ｃｏｎｖｅｒｔｅｄ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ?

Ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｌｏｓｅｓｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｐｅｃｉａｌｉｓｔ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｃｏｍｅ.

Ｅｓｓｅｎｔｉａｌｌｙ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒ               ｆｒｏｍ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｖｅｒｔｉｇｏ,               ｅｔｉｏｌｏｇｙ               ｕｎｋｎｏｗｎ.
               Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｍｙ               ｂｉｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ               ｆａｔｈｅｒ               ｃｈｏｓｅ               ｔｏ               ｄｒｏｐ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ｏｎｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｆｏｒ               ａｌｌ               ｅｘｔｉｎｇｕｉｓｈｉｎｇ               ｍｙ               ｌａｓｔ               ｄｒｏｐ               ｏｆ               ｈｏｐｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｓｕｆｆｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               (ｒｅｌａｔｉｖｅｌｙ)               ｂｅｎｉｇｎ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               Ｃｈａｒｃｏｔ-Ｍａｒｉｅ-Ｔｏｏｔｈ.

Ｈｅ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｓｅａｓｅ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｉｓ               ｖｉｒｔｕａｌｌｙ               ｉｍｐｏｓｓｉｂｌｅ               ｉｆ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ               ｏｆ               ｉｔ               ｉｎ               ｈｉｓ               ｆａｍｉｌｙ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａ               ｂｉｔ               ｄｅｓｐｅｒａｔｅ.

Ｃｏｕｌｄ               Ｉ               ｂｅ               ａ               ｓｐｏｎｔａｎｅｏｕｓ               ｍｕｔａｔｉｏｎ?
               Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｍｙ               ａｒｍｓ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               ｐａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｎｕｍｂｎｅｓｓ               ａｔ               ｎｉｇｈｔ.

Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｌｉｖｅｄ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ               ｆｏｒ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ａｌｌ               ｉｔｓ               ｔｒｉｃｋｓ,               ｂｕｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｘｃｒｕｃｉａｔｉｎｇ               ｐａｉｎ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｗ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｓｅｅｍｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｃｏｍｅ               ｕｐ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｎｏｗｈｅｒｅ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｐｒｅｓｃｒｉｂｅｄ               ａ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅ               ｒｅｌａｘａｎｔ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               Ｆｌｅｘｏｒｉｌ               ｔｏ               ｃａｌｍ               ａｎｙ               ｍｕｓｃｌｅ               ｓｐａｓｍｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｂｅ               ｃａｕｓｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎ.
               Ｔｗｏ               ｄａｙｓ               ｌａｔｅｒ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｄｒｉｖｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｃａｒ               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ｓｕｄｄｅｎｌｙ               ｏｖｅｒｃｏｍｅ               ｂｙ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ｓｏ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ               Ｉ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｐａｓｓ               ｏｕｔ.

Ｉ               ｐｕｌｌｅｄ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｕｎｔｉｌ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｅ               ｓｔｒａｉｇｈｔ               ａｎｄ               ｄｒｏｖｅ               ｍｙｓｅｌｆ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｍｅｒｇｅｎｃｙ               ｒｏｏｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｏｓｐｉｔａｌ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｉｂｌｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｍｙ               ｃａｒｅ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈａｎｋｆｕｌｌｙ               ｌｅｓｓ               ｔｈａｎ               ａ               ｂｌｏｃｋ               ａｗａｙ.

Ａｆｔｅｒ               ａ               ｔｈｏｒｏｕｇｈ               ｅｘａｍｉｎａｔｉｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｒｅａｆｆｉｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ               ｅｖａｌｕａｔｅｄ               ｆｏｒ               ＭＳ,               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               ａｎ               ＥＫＧ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｐｏｓｓｅｓｓ               ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｃａｒｄｉａｃ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｃａｌｌｅｄ               ａ               "ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｐｒ               ｉｎｔｅｒｖａｌ."               Ｔｈｉｓ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｐｒ               ｃａｕｓｅｓ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｒｔ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｅ               ａｒｒｈｙｔｈｍｉａｓ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｆｉｎａｌｌｙ               ｅｘｐｌａｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｍｍｅｄｉａｔｅｌｙ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ｏｆｆ               ｔｈｅ               Ｆｌｅｘｏｒｉｌ               ａｎｄ               ａｌｌ               ｃａｆｆｅｉｎｅ               ａｎｄ               ａｎｙ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｔｉｏｎ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｉｇｈｔ               ｂｅ               ｓｔｉｍｕｌａｔｉｎｇ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｎｏｔｉｃｅｄ               ａ               ｄｅｃｒｅａｓｅ               ｉｎ               ｍｙ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ｗｉｔｈｉｎ               ａ               ｆｅｗ               ｄａｙｓ.
               Ｎｏｗ,               ｂｅｓｉｄｅｓ               ｎｅｅｄｉｎｇ               ａ               ｇｏｏｄ               Ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ,               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ａ               Ｃａｒｄｉｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ.

Ｍｙ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｗａｓ               ｓｅｒｉｏｕｓｌｙ               ｓｔａｒｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｐｉｓｓ               ｍｅ               ｏｆｆ.

Ｈｏｗ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｏｎｅ               ｂａｓｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｈｅａｌｔｈｙ               ｐｅｒｓｏｎ               ｈａｖｅ               ｓｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｕｎｃｏｎｎｅｃｔｅｄ               ｔｈｉｎｇｓ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｈｅｒ?
               Ｏｎｃｅ               ａｇａｉｎ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｂａｃｋ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ＭＳ               ｄａｎｃｅ.

Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｓｅｔ               ｕｐ               ｂｙ               ｍｙ               ｐｒｉｍａｒｙ               ｃａｒｅ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ＥＭＧ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｄｅｆｉｎｉｔｉｖｅｌｙ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅ               ｏｒ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｕｔ               Ｃｈａｒｃｏｔ-Ｍａｒｉｅ-Ｔｏｏｔｈ               (ａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｏｒｄｅｒｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｍｙ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ｗｈｏ               ｈａｄ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅｄ               ｔｈｅ               ＣＭＴ).

Ｔｈｅ               ＥＭＧ               ｄｉｄ               ｒｕｌｅ               ｏｕｔ               ＣＭＴ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｒｅｗ               Ｃａｒｐａｌ               Ｔｕｎｎｅｌ               Ｓｙｎｄｒｏｍｅ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｍｉｘ.

Ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ｍａｌａｄｙ,               ａｐｐａｒｅｎｔｌｙ               ｕｎｒｅｌａｔｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｏｔｈｅｒ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ.

Ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｈｒｏｗ               ｉｔ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｊｕｎｋ               ｐｉｌｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               Ｃａｒｐａｌ               Ｔｕｎｎｅｌ               ｗａｓ               ｃｏｎｓｉｄｅｒｅｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ａｄｖａｎｃｅｄ               ｉｎ               ａ               ｗｏｍａｎ               ｍｙ               ａｇｅ,               ａｎｄ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｄｕｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｐｅｔｉｔｉｖｅ               ｓｔｒｅｓｓ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｓｐｏｎｔａｎｅｏｕｓ               ａｎｄ               ｕｎｅｘｐｌａｉｎｅｄ.

Ａｎｄ               ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｄｅｆｉｎｉｔｅｌｙ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｉｂｌｅ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ａｄｖａｎｃｅｍｅｎｔ               ｉｎ               ａｒｍ               ｐａｉｎ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ.
               Ｉ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｓａｗ               ａ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ＭＳ               Ｃｅｎｔｅｒ               ｉｎ               Ｂｏｓｔｏｎ,               ａｎｄ               ｈｅ               ｆｅｌｔ,               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｕｒｏｌｏｇｉｓｔ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｈｉｍ,               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ＭＳ.

Ｈｅ               ｏｒｄｅｒｅｄ               ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ               ＭＲＩ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｂｒａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｓｐｉｎｅ,               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｃｏｎｆｉｒｍｅｄ               ｈｉｓ               ｆｉｎｄｉｎｇｓ.

Ｔｈｉｓ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｆｅｅｌ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌａｔｉｏｎ               Ｉ               ｆｅｌｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｔｉｍｅ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏｌｄ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｄｉｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｈａｖｅ               ＭＳ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｗａｓ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｔｏｏ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｏｎ.

Ｉｔ               ａｐｐｅａｒｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｂｏｄｙ               ｗａｓ               ｆａｌｌｉｎｇ               ａｐａｒｔ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ｂｙ               ｐｉｅｃｅ               ａｎｄ               ｎｏ               ｏｎｅ               ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｆｉｇｕｒｅ               ｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ｈａｐｐｅｎｉｎｇ.
               Ｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅｌｙ,               ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｘｔ               ｓｔｅｐ               ｔａｋｅｎ               ｗａｓ               ｔｏ               ｓｅｔ               ｍｅ               ｕｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｃｏｇｎｉｔｉｖｅ               ｔｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｄｅｆｉｃｉｔｓ               ｗｅ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ               ａｔ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｌｄ               ｎｏｇｇｉｎ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｔｅｓｔｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｉｒｓｔ               ｉｌｌｕｍｉｎａｔｉｎｇ               ｂｉｔ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｒｅｃｅｉｖｅｄ               ｄｕｒｉｎｇ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｄｅｃａｄｅｓ               ｌｏｎｇ               ｏｄｙｓｓｅｙ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｇｎｉｔｉｖｅ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ               ａｎｄ               ｈａｄ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｅｘｐｅｒｉｅｎｃｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｓｏ               ｍａｎｙ               ｙｅａｒｓ               ｗｅｒｅ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｔｈｅ               ｔｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｃａｕｓｅｄ               ｂｙ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｒｏｎｔａｌ               ｌｏｂｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ               ｔｒａｃｋｓ.
               Ｉ               ｓａｔ               ｑｕｉｅｔｌｙ               ｆｏｒ               ａ               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ,               ａｂｓｏｒｂｉｎｇ               ｗｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ｗａｓ               ｔｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｍｅ.

Ｉ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｌｏｏｋｅｄ               ａｔ               ｈｅｒ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               "Ｉ               ｄｏｎ'ｔ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｗｈａｔ               ï¿½ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ               ｔｒａｃｋｓ'               ａｒｅ.

Ａｒｅ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｓｏｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｃｏｎｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ?"               Ｓｈｅ               ｒｅｓｐｏｎｄｅｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｅｒｅ.

Ａｎｄ               ｓｏ               Ｉ               ａｄｄｅｄ               "ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｈｅａｒｔ,               ａｎｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｎｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｂｒａｉｎ?

Ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕ               ｔｅｌｌｉｎｇ               ｍｅ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ａｍ               ｂａｓｉｃａｌｌｙ               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｃｉｒｃｕｉｔｅｄ?"               Ｓｈｅ               ｓｍｉｌｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓｈｒｕｇｇｅｄ               ａｎｄ               ｓａｉｄ               ｔｈａｔ               ｍｙ               ｐｈｒａｓｉｎｇ               ｗａｓ               ｐｒｏｂａｂｌｙ               ｎｏｔ               ａｎ               ｉｎａｃｃｕｒａｔｅ               ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｉｚａｔｉｏｎ.
               Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｎ               ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｊｕｓｔ               ｏｐｅｎｅｄ               ｕｐ               ｉｎｓｉｄｅ               ｍｙ               ｂｒａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ａ               ｓｔｒａｎｇｅ               ｃａｌｍ,               ｃａｌｍ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｈａｄ               ｎｏｔ               ｆｅｌｔ               ｉｎ               ａｌｍｏｓｔ               ｔｗｏ               ｙｅａｒｓ,               ｓｅｔｔｌｅｄ               ｉｎ.

Ｉｔ               ｗａｓ               ｔｈｅ               "Ａｈ               ｈａ!"               ｍｏｍｅｎｔ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｋｎｅｗ               ｔｈｅ               ａｎｓｗｅｒ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ｅｖｅｎ               Ｉ               ｐｏｓｅｄ               ｈｅｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ.

"Ｃｏｕｌｄ               ｔｈｉｓ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｄｏ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｃｕｔｅｄ               (ｓｉｃ)               ａｓ               ａ               ｃｈｉｌｄ?"               Ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｓａｗ               ａ               ｋｎｏｗｉｎｇ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｐａｓｓ               ｏｖｅｒ               ｈｅｒ               ｆａｃｅ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ.

"Ｔｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ａ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｉｎｇ               ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ,"               ｓｈｅ               ｓａｉｄ.

"Ｉ               ａｍ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｎｅｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｌｏｏｋ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｔｈｉｓ."
               Ｗｅｌｌ,               ｔｈａｔ               ｗａｓ               ａｌｌ               Ｉ               ｎｅｅｄｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｈｅａｒ.

Ｉ               ｒｅｔｕｒｎｅｄ               ｔｏ               ｗｏｒｋ,               ｌｏｇｇｅｄ               ｉｎｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｄａｔａｂａｓｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｅｄｉｃａｌ               ｊｏｕｒｎａｌｓ,               ａｎｄ               ｌｅｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｓｔｅａｍ               ｏｕｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｅｎｇｉｎｅｓ.

Ｗｈａｔ               ｈａｖｅ               Ｉ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ａｓ               ｄｏｃｕｍｅｎｔｅｄ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔｓ               ｏｆ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ?

Ｗｅｌｌ,               ｌｅｔ'ｓ               ｔａｌｌｙ               ｉｔ               ｕｐ.

Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｐａｐｅｒｓ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐ               ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ               ａｎｄ               ｓｅｖｅｒｅ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ,               ｐｅｒｉｐｈｅｒａｌ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ,               ｓｈｏｒｔ               ｔｅｒｍ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ               ｌｏｓｓ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｎｆｕｓｉｏｎ,               Ｃａｒｐａｌ               Ｔｕｎｎｅｌ               Ｓｙｎｄｒｏｍｅ               (ｏｃｃｕｒｓ               ｉｎ               10%               ｏｆ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｈａｎｄ-ｈｅｌｄ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ),               ａｎｄ               ｄｉｓｒｕｐｔｉｏｎ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｃｏｎｄｕｃｔｉｏｎ               ｓｙｓｔｅｍ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｈｅａｒｔ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｄｏｃｕｍｅｎｔａｔｉｏｎ               ｉｓ               ｃｈａｌｌｅｎｇｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ,               ａｓ               Ｉ               ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ               ｅａｒｌｉｅｒ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｒｅ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｆｅｗ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｄｏｃｕｍｅｎｔｅｄ.

Ａｌｓｏ,               ｃｏｒｒｅｃｔ               ｐｈｒａｓｅｏｌｏｇｙ               ｈａｓ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｂｅｆｏｒｅ               ａ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｃａｎ               ｂｅ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌ.

Ｆｏｒ               ｉｎｓｔａｎｃｅ,               ｕｎｔｉｌ               Ｉ               ｂｅｇａｎ               ｍｙ               ｒｅｓｅａｒｃｈ,               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｉｇｎｏｒａｎｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｆａｃｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅ               ｗｏｒｄ               "ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｃｕｔｉｏｎ"               ｒｅｆｅｒｒｅｄ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｃａｓｅｓ               ｉｎ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔｅｄ               ｉｎ               ｄｅａｔｈ.

Ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ,               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｌｉｔｔｌｅ               ｌｉｔｅｒａｔｕｒｅ               ａｖａｉｌａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｂｅ               ｄｉｓｃｏｖｅｒｅｄ               ｆｒｏｍ               ａ               ｓｅａｒｃｈ               ｏｎ               ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｒａｓｅ               "ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               ｏｆ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏｃｕｔｉｏｎ,"               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｏｎｌｙ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍ               ｗｏｕｌｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ               ｂｅ               ｄｅａｔｈ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｐｈｒａｓｅ               "ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃ               ｓｈｏｃｋ"               ｂｒｏｕｇｈｔ               ｕｐ               ｓｃｏｒｅｓ               ｏｆ               ｐａｐｅｒｓ               ｏｎ               Ｅｌｅｃｔｒｏ               Ｓｈｏｃｋ               Ｔｈｅｒａｐｙ,               ｂｕｔ               ｗａｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｈｅｌｐｆｕｌ               ｔｏ               ｍｙ               ｅｎｄｅａｖｏｒ.
               Ｓｏ               ｗｈａｔ'ｓ               ｉｔ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｔｏ               ｌｉｖｅ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ａｆｔｅｒｍａｔｈ               ｏｆ               ａｎ               ｅｌｅｃｔｒｉｃａｌ               ｉｎｊｕｒｙ?

Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｆｒｕｓｔｒａｔｉｎｇ.

Ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｅｖｅｒ               ｃｈａｎｇｉｎｇ.

Ｉｔ'ｓ               ｈａｒｄ               ｔｏ               ｔｒｕｓｔ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｂｏｄｙ,               ａｓ               ｙｏｕ'ｒｅ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｓｕｒｅ               ｗｈｅｎ               ｎｅｗ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔｓ               ａｒｅ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｐｒｅｓｅｎｔ               ｔｈｅｍｓｅｌｖｅｓ               ａｓ               ｔｈｅ               ｂｏｄｙ               ａｇｅｓ.

Ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｄｅｆｉｎｉｔｅｌｙ               ａ               ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ               ｏｆ               ｉｎｓｅｃｕｒｉｔｙ               ｗｈｅｎｅｖｅｒ               ｙｏｕ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｅｘｐｌａｉｎ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               ａｎｄ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｃａｕｓｅｓ               ｔｏ               ａ               ｎｅｗ               ｄｏｃｔｏｒ               ｗｈｏ               ｈａｓ               ｎｅｖｅｒ               ｈｅａｒｄ               ｏｆ               ａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ               ｌｉｋｅ               ｉｔ.
               Ｂｕｔ,               ｉｔ'ｓ               ｆｉｎｅ.

Ｉ               ａｍ               ｎｏｗ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｔａｋｅ               ｍｙ               ｓｙｍｐｔｏｍｓ               ａｐａｒｔ               ｏｎｅ               ｂｙ               ｏｎｅ               ａｎｄ               ｄｅｔｅｒｍｉｎｅ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ａｒｅ               ｔｒｅａｔａｂｌｅ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｎｅｕｒｏｐａｔｈｙ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔ               ｌｉｋｅｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｇｏ               ａｗａｙ,               ｂｕｔ               ｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               Ｃａｒｐａｌ               Ｔｕｎｎｅｌ               ｇｏｉｎｇ               ｏｎ               ｉｎ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ａｓ               ｗｅｌｌ,               ｓｏｍｅ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               ｐａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｎｕｍｂｎｅｓｓ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ｒｅｌｉｅｖｅｄ               ａｓ               ｗｅ               ｔｒｅａｔ               ｔｈａｔ               ｐａｒｔ               ｏｆ               ｔｈｅ               ｅｑｕａｔｉｏｎ.

Ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅ               ａｉｄ               ｏｆ               ｂｒａｃｅｓ               ｔｈａｔ               Ｉ               ｗｅａｒ               ａｔ               ｎｉｇｈｔ,               Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ａｌｒｅａｄｙ               ｂｅｅｎ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｒｅｄｕｃｅ               ｔｈｅ               ｐａｉｎ               ｓｉｇｎｉｆｉｃａｎｔｌｙ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｄｉｚｚｉｎｅｓｓ               ｉｓ               ａｌｓｏ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｍｕｃｈ               ｉｍｐｒｏｖｅｄ               ｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｗｅ               ｋｎｏｗ               ｔｈａｔ               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｃａｒｄｉａｃ               ｉｎ               ｎａｔｕｒｅ,               ｎｏｔ               ｖｅｓｔｉｂｕｌａｒ,               ｏｒ               ｔｈｅ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔ               ｏｆ               "ｃｏｎｖｅｒｔｅｄ               ｍｉｇｒａｉｎｅ"               ｆｏｒ               ｗｈｉｃｈ               ｗｅ               ｆｏｕｎｄ               ｎｏ               ｓｕｃｃｅｓｓｆｕｌ               ｔｒｅａｔｍｅｎｔ.

Ｔｈｅ               ｉｍｐａｉｒｍｅｎｔ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｆｒｏｎｔａｌ               ｌｏｂｅｓ               ａｎｄ               ｗｈｉｔｅ               ｍａｔｔｅｒ               ｔｒａｃｋｓ               ａｒｅ               ｎｏｔ               ｌｉｋｅｌｙ               ｔｏ               ｉｍｐｒｏｖｅ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓｕｇｇｅｓｔｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｔｈｅｙ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｄｅｇｒａｄｅ,               ｅｉｔｈｅｒ.

Ｉ'ｖｅ               ｂｅｅｎ               ｃｏｍｐｅｎｓａｔｉｎｇ               ｆｏｒ               ｔｈｏｓｅ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍｓ               ａｌｌ               ｍｙ               ｌｉｆｅ,               ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗａｓ               ｃｌｅｖｅｒ               ｅｎｏｕｇｈ               ｔｏ               ｍａｒｒｙ               ａ               ｍａｎ               ｗｉｔｈ               ａ               ｐｈｏｔｏｇｒａｐｈｉｃ               ｍｅｍｏｒｙ.
               Ｓｏ               ｈｅｒｅ               ｉｔ               ｉｓ,               ｍｙ               ｍａｇｎｕｍ               ｏｐｕｓ,               ｔｈｅ               ｃｏｍｐｌｅｔｉｏｎ               ｏｆ               ｍｙ               "Ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ…"               ｓｅｒｉｅｓ.

Ｉ               ｈａｖｅ               ｔｒｉｅｄ               ｖｅｒｙ               ｈａｒｄ               ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈｏｕｔ               ｔｈｉｓ               ａｒｔｉｃｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｕｓｅ               ｂｏｔｈ               ｃｌｉｎｉｃａｌ               ａｎｄ               ｃａｓｕａｌ               ｔｅｒｍｓ,               ｓｏ               ｔｈａｔ               ａｎｙｏｎｅ               ｓｅａｒｃｈｉｎｇ               ｗｈｉｌｅ               ｓｔｒｕｇｇｌｉｎｇ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｏｕｔ               ｗｈａｔ               ｉｓ               ｗｒｏｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｂｅ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｆｉｎｄ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｒｅｓｕｌｔｓ,               ｏｒ               ａｔ               ｌｅａｓｔ               ｓｏｍｅ               ｉｎｐｕｔ               ｏｎ               ｈｏｗ               ｔｏ               ｇｏ               ａｂｏｕｔ               ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ               ａｎ               ａｎｓｗｅｒ               ｔｏ               ｔｈｅ               ｓｅｅｍｉｎｇｌｙ               ｕｎａｎｓｗｅｒａｂｌｅ.

Ａｎｄ               Ｉ               ｗｉｌｌ               ｓａｙ               ｔｈｉｓ,               ｉｔ               ｉｓ               ｄａｎｇｅｒｏｕｓ               ａｎｄ               ｃｏｕｎｔｅｒ               ｐｒｏｄｕｃｔｉｖｅ               ｔｏ               ｔｒｙ               ｔｏ               ｄｉａｇｎｏｓｅ               ｙｏｕｒｓｅｌｆ               ｆｏｒ               ａｎｙ               ｋｉｎｄ               ｏｆ               ｉｌｌｎｅｓｓ               ｏｒ               ｐｒｏｂｌｅｍ,               ｂｕｔ               ｔｈｅｒｅ               ｉｓ               ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ               ｔｈａｔ               ｓａｙｓ               ｔｈａｔ               ｙｏｕ               ｃａｎ               ｎｏｔ               ｗｏｒｋ               ｉｎ               ｐａｒｔｎｅｒｓｈｉｐ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｐｈｙｓｉｃｉａｎｓ,               ｓｈａｒｉｎｇ               ｗｉｔｈ               ｔｈｅｍ               ｔｈｅ               ｉｎｆｏｒｍａｔｉｏｎ               ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅ               ａｂｌｅ               ｔｏ               ｏｂｔａｉｎ               ａｎｄ               ｒｅｃｅｉｖｉｎｇ               ｔｈｅｉｒ               ｆｅｅｄｂａｃｋ.

Ｙｏｕ               ａｒｅ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｏｗｎ               ｂｅｓｔ               ａｄｖｏｃａｔｅ               ａｎｄ               ｃｅｒｔａｉｎｌｙ               ｙｏｕｒ               ｍｏｓｔ               ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔｅｄ               ｐａｒｔｙ.






Image of suburban home health care






suburban home health care
suburban home health care


suburban home health care Image 1


suburban home health care
suburban home health care


suburban home health care Image 2


suburban home health care
suburban home health care


suburban home health care Image 3


suburban home health care
suburban home health care


suburban home health care Image 4


suburban home health care
suburban home health care


suburban home health care Image 5


  • Related blog with suburban home health care





    1. jeffberkowitz.blogspot.com/   04/25/2004
      ... not jobs. It is not health care. Serafin: No. *********************************************** Schedule for Upcoming Suburban editions of "Public Affairs...
    2. catholic-caveman.blogspot.com/   01/12/2009
      ... shown little sign of rethinking, such as a plan to make health care more market-driven . "The good news is our ideas still work...
    3. quigleyblog.blogspot.com/   01/28/2007
      ....) We should show them the same love and respect and send them home. The Democrats are still in a state of denial RE the leadership failure...
    4. quigleyblog.blogspot.com/   01/29/2007
      ....) We should show them the same love and respect and send them home. The Democrats are still in a state of denial RE the leadership failure...
    5. michaelhartney2.blogspot.com/   05/12/2006
      ... already at my house when I got home. He was just as excited as...couldn't wait; once in the land of universal health care and gay rights, I would pop in the...
    6. hevans-hevans.blogspot.com/   07/02/2006
      ... that the hospital cared a lot more about my insurance than they did about my health . When it finally DID come time to go home , they were all ...
    7. chimpnews.blogspot.com/   08/06/2002
      ... who needed a good home. Within two years, they...to win an award from the health institute to breed chimps... happy. Right now their care givers are...
    8. yourexcellencythehas.blogspot.com/   10/22/2007
      ...the laetrile, and he said: "Well, I don't care whether it's the juicing, the Tai Chi...so excited that as I drove home I smashed into a pickup truck ahead of...
    9. boardsanddimes.blogspot.com/   10/30/2006
      ...defensive stop, encouraging Chamberlain to take care of the defensive boards, shouting...hospital stays to make the ride up from his home in Washington, D.C., to see his beloved ...
    10. theshitbagopera.blogspot.com/   02/01/2006
      ...or BN cops or local cops. Little John had developed a healthy allergy to cops and jail. He just wanted to “get by”. Officer Benton and...



    Related Video with suburban home health care







    suburban home health care Video 1








    suburban home health care Video 2








    suburban home health care Video 3




    suburban home health care































    0 개의 댓글:

    댓글 쓰기