In each issue of the newsletter, we will bring you a column that presents the experiences of our members. Their stories are presented In Their Own Words by way of letters they have sent us. We are most appreciative of their willingness to share their very personal stories. It is our hope that through the sharing of these experiences, we will all learn something about each other and about ourselves. It is our hope that the stories will help us all realize that we are not alone. You may submit your stories by sending them either by e-mail or through the postal service to Sandy Siegel.

I want to share my story with you in my own words. Today is my eight-year anniversary! Sometimes it seems like a lifetime, and sometimes like only yesterday.

I was sitting in an art class at Howard-Payne University in Brownwood, Texas. I was weaving a basket when I realized that my right leg was feeling cool, almost cold but not. I thought maybe I was sitting crooked and was cutting off circulation or something. When I stood up, I realized that from about halfway between my knee and foot was dead, all the way to and including my foot. That was odd! I went over to the library where my husband was working and told him. I thought that perhaps I needed to see the chiropractor and get an adjustment. So, that is what I did. After the adjustment, I didn't feel any different, except that now the coldness and deadness was coming up my right side to my abdomen including my buttock. Our daughter, who was attending the college at the time, went with us to lunch. I drank a lot of coke and had tacos. After lunch I noticed that the "feelings" were going across to my left side and down that leg. My husband and daughter took me to her apartment to lie down for a while. They went back to work and to school. I thought I might rest, but couldn't get comfortable. I even felt sick to my stomach. After about an hour, I called my husband and told him I thought he needed to take me to the doctor.

I walked in the office, and got to see the doctor right away. He examined me and asked me to get a urine sample. Well, I knew I had consumed quite a bit of soda and actually needed to use the bathroom, however, once I got in the bathroom, I could not urinate. That is when I knew something was definitely wrong. After he catheterized me, he sent me over to the hospital for a sonogram of my gall bladder. It was about 3 PM at this point. When I got up to leave, I couldn't stand. Surprise! After the trip to the hospital, we came back to his office. He said the sonogram showed nothing abnormal with my gall bladder, so he gave me a shot for the pain, which was getting pretty intense by then. I got in the back seat of our '95 Blazer. We picked up our son from school and headed for home. At that time we had just moved to a small town 12 miles north of Stephenville, Texas. My husband is a pastor and we had been called to this small church about a month and a half earlier. We had only been living there about two weeks. It is about 95 miles from Brownwood to Morgan Mill; a very long drive.

My husband got me out of the vehicle and into the house. He put me on our daughter's bed in the spare room. We got our 11-year-old son situated, and we all went to bed. I woke up at about midnight in such pain I could hardly breathe. My husband called a sweet lady just up the road to come be with Wendell, and we headed to Stephenville to the ER. Once there and on the table, my legs would not be still. They moved as if they had a mind of their own. That's fun! :) The ER doctor called another doctor in town and described my symptoms, and this doctor diagnosed TM. Well, none of us had ever hear of such a thing. Surprise again! The ER doctor gave me another shot and sent me home with instructions that if I was not better the next day, to go see the doctor that had diagnosed me.

Well, needless to say, I wasn't better. We got to his office about 9:30 AM, and he saw me right away. He said he would call a neurologist in Fort Worth, and wanted me to go to Harris Methodist Hospital there. He also called the ER and ordered a cath to be put in and another shot. Then the fun started. My sweet husband drove home to arrange for the care of our son. He called his parents, called my parents, and called someone to tell our daughter, Karri Anne. And then we headed out. Dumb, dumb. We had no idea where the hospital was. I would wake up every once in a while and caution him not to drive too fast. What a couple! Needless to say, we finally made it to the hospital. The doctor was upset, because it took us so long to get there. Ha!

Things are a little foggy for me from the first day or two; except that the sheet hurt me. Everything was so sensitive. I cried and apologized when they touched me to move me. Finally after two days of tests, you know the drill; she (the doctor) gave me some cortisone in my IV and the pain stopped. Yea!

My folks got there and were waiting for me after my MRI. Here I was totally paralyzed on this silly gurney, looking up at my mom and dad, encouraging them. Telling my crying mother that every thing was O.K. I was fine :) For a year or longer when I talked to my dad on the phone, he cried before we hung up.

I was in the hospital on my 44th birthday. What fun! I came home nine days after I was admitted to the hospital. My son and husband had the Christmas tree up for me (we usually put it up on my birthday, December 9th). No decorations, but it was up! The physical therapy people wanted me to stay in the facility at the hospital for six weeks for PT. But I told them I couldn't stay away from my family that long. God had a much better plan for me. He sent me to the physical therapy department at Harris Methodist in Stephenville, to a Christian PT. Not only did she encourage me, but she prayed for me. G-d is so good! My lesion is at T4. It effected my shoulders, my breathing, and feelings up to my neck. I am so grateful that my arms weren't effected (my heart goes out to those of you that are effected higher than I was; you are in my prayers.)

I'll not go into the details of my PT at this point. I was in PT for the first six months after my onset. I learned to walk on legs I could not feel. The only way I knew they were there was by looking. I have pushed hard, being determined to be able to walk with my children and grandchildren (when they came). I have also been determined not to complain, no matter what. That has been hard to live up to, but when we are alone, my precious husband holds me and lets me cry as long as it takes.

I have worn leggings from the beginning. It helps to keep my other clothes from hurting me. They are wonderful. It is hard to comprehend how you can be paralyzed, and yet have hypersensitive skin. Huh? Sometimes our brains have to accept things that don't seem quite right.

I have had about a year and a half of PT, in and out of water. The water is the best! It just amazes me that I can have new (better) feelings after walking in the water.

We have also dealt with this situation with a lot of laughter. It's the only way to go. When I was in my chair, my kids really pushed me around! Sandy, we need to write a book, we need to be on TV, so the world can know about us. I wrote Oprah once, but never got a reply. People need to know.

I have so much more I want to write, how the changes have come, the fatigue, and the pain; the help and the lack thereof from the doctors and hospitals. But I will close for now. Thank you for listening, and letting me share. I want so much to meet others like me. It has been a comfort to know someone else has gone through what I have. And yet it is heartbreaking to know that others have gone through what I have, and that there will be others. Thank you for this organization and your correspondence.

May God bless you real good is my prayer.
Jackie Farmer
coejack[AT SIGN]yahoo.com