The Three-Year Aftershock: When the Poison Refuses to Leave
I was supposed to write a deeply researched post this week. But honestly, I can barely keep my eyes open. As we approach the third year since my final injection, the biggest battle I fight isn't paralysis ; it's a profound, soul-crushing exhaustion . This isn't just "being tired." This is the system being depleted, an ongoing consequence of the systemic damage that began long ago. This week, the "poison" reminded me exactly what it’s still capable of. A couple of weeks ago, I was in Walmart, doing something entirely mundane, when the storm hit. The world tilted as severe dizziness and disorientation flooded in. My vision blurred, my heart rate—which I can feel jump from a resting rate to an alarming spike—started to race, and my whole body began to shake. I just knew I was going to pass out right there in front of all those people. I called my son, needing an anchor, and whispered directions to my car as I fought my way back through the aisles. This is t...