by Louise Soares, with her daughter Ruth Schiffmann

The door to the examination room was open. The doctor and nurse walked through the hallway between patients. After offering a paper cup of water and a small yellow pill, the nurse left my mother and me in the small room. Her bent fingers lifted the cup to her lips. She tried once, then again to rinse the pill down.
      “I can’t swallow it,” she finally moaned, and spit it into the tiny chrome sink. Her throat was seizing up, and her words were slurred. I rubbed her back, felt her sobs, and stared at the tiny yellow pill that couldn’t help her.
      “We’re going to admit you to the hospital, Mrs. Soares,” the doctor said as he reentered the room.
      My mother took his hand. “Thank you,” she cried, “thank you.”  Maybe she would finally get the help she needed.
      In her own voice, here is her story.

~

The joyous birth of my first child was overshadowed by frightening physical problems. My legs became so weak that I held onto walls to get around the house. A terrible fear grew inside me that one day I simply would not make it down the hall. This was thirty years before that visit to the doctor’s office.

The doctor back then thought it was a nervous breakdown. He prescribed tranquilizers and sleeping pills. Yet my symptoms persisted. I visited specialists who found nothing wrong. Still, I could not do the simplest things. My neck gave out while I brushed my hair.

I had back pain for the next seven years. I resigned myself to the fact that the doctors didn’t know how to treat me. But I read Psalm 139:14. It said, “I will praise Thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” So I asked God to help me live with the pain.

Through two more pregnancies, I lived with the physical struggles—thanking God for the meaning my family brought to my life. I prayed for healing if it could be His will. But I was becoming dependent on the tranquilizers that were prescribed for every puzzling symptom. I sought more help from alcohol (Later I would discover that these things only made my undiagnosed disease worse).

After seven years, the pain lessened—and then disappeared. Still, many struggles lay ahead. I entered Alcoholics Anonymous.  Through a lot of pain I made gains toward a new life. The Lord reminded me that I go through life one day at a time, knowing that “all things work together for good to them that love God” (Romans 8:28).

Years of good health followed. I was able to do physical work—cleaning houses for twelve years. Then one day I left work feeling unusually tired. Within a week my vision blurred—then doubled. The optometrist said I was fine. The ophthalmologist could uncover no cause for my symptoms. An MRI was scheduled. Nothing.

I quietly lived with double vision for three months, covering one eye so that I could read, but bumping into walls and furniture in my own home. My family didn’t know how to help, except to encourage me to see different doctors. In desperation, I tried again to seek help from specialists. I waited months for appointments. I thanked God for my faith, and tried to maintain a positive attitude.

Simply eating became exhausting. I took breaks during meals, just to finish. My bedtime became 3:30 p.m. I no longer walked; I wobbled and weaved. Even my voice was changing. Still doctors offered no answers. Finally I was referred to a neurologist. The wait was more than a month. I didn’t think I could last. My only strength was in Christ.

When I was finally examined by the neurologist, he made, within minutes, the diagnosis every other doctor had missed for years. “You have myasthenia gravis,” he said.

Finally admitted to the hospital with a treatment plan, I spent five weeks in intensive care. The caring doctors and nurses ministered to me as though they were angels. At last, someone knew how to help me.

I thank God for the way He made me—because He did make me. When no one else in the world knew what I was going through, He knew, and He gave me everything I needed to make it through each day.

Today, as I continue to learn more about the disease, I live on Cape Cod with my husband of 45 years. I have 25 years of sobriety. The diagnosis of myasthenia gravis and the subsequent treatment have given me a new life.

~

Myasthenia gravis is an auto-immune disease involving the breakdown of normal communication between nerves and muscles. It can affect men and women of any age. The cause is uncertain. It is not believed to be inherited, or contagious. Symptoms include drooping eyelids, blurred or double vision, slurred speech, nasal voice, difficulty chewing and swallowing, weakness of limbs, difficulty breathing, and loss of facial expression. Treatment includes rest, a well-balanced diet, medication, and sometimes plasma exchange and removal of the thymus gland. Although there is no cure for MG, most patients experience significant improvement with treatment. For more information, visit:  http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/myasthenia-gravis/DS00375; www.myasthenia.org