The Symptoms That Wouldn’t Stop: The Scary Road To My Diagnosis…. Part 1

Living with Chronic Illness & Autoimmune Conditions.

On June 23, 2020, a jar of spaghetti sauce slipped out of my hand and shattered across the floor. Looking back, that was the perfect metaphor for how the next three months of my life would play out.

Month 1: The Room Starts Spinning

It started at 2:00 AM with extreme nausea, the kind that makes you feel like you’re dying. With COVID-19 rampant, a 6-month-old in the next room, and my husband out of town, the panic was instant.

The nausea persisted, followed by a terrifying "crawling out of my skin" sensation. Then came a metallic taste in my mouth, slurred speech, a swollen tongue, and randomly chocking on air. I called my doctor, desperate for help. His response? "Bridget, you really need to consider Lexapro."

It was a slap in the face. I was falling apart physically, and I was being told it was just in my head.

The Week the Lights Went Out

After a misdiagnosis of Gerd, UTI and a round of antibiotics, I woke up to find 80% of my vision gone. Everything was a blur. Two eye doctors told me it was "common for postpartum moms" and "just hormones."

I remember thinking: No woman would ever have a second child if this was 'normal.' I was convinced I had a brain tumor. I discussed getting an MRI. They told me to "give it time."

Month 2: The Gaslighting

By month two, the fatigue was so heavy I couldn't lift a 5-pound dumbbell. I was literally laughing when I wanted to cry and crying when I wanted to laugh. I could not control it, I was getting more scared by the day. Some of the symptoms, I couldn’t even describe. My body felt like it was in a constant low blood sugar. I bounced between eight different doctors within urgent cares and clinics, just begging for someone to listen. Because of COVID, my primary doctor refused to see me in person. I would have unexplained fevers between 101 and 102 degrees.

The verdict from the medical community? Postpartum depression. Postpartum psychosis. As a therapist myself, my mind was blown. Between the symptoms and the doctors, I started to believe I actually was going crazy. I prayed every day for it to go away. It never did.

Month 3: The Breaking Point

In August, we went on a family trip to the Keys. I tried to "fake it" and relax, but the Florida heat had other plans. One night, I realized I couldn't get my foot back into my flip-flop. My body was missing the target.

At 4:00 AM, my daughter woke up crying. I jumped out of bed to get her—and I fell. My left leg was dragging, and my left arm wouldn't move. I got myself to the bathroom mirror to check for a stroke. I went back to sleep hoping it was a nightmare I’d wake up from.

I woke up, and the paralysis was still there. My parents finally convinced me: it was time to stop waiting and get to the hospital.

The answers were finally coming, but the journey was just beginning.

Living with Chronic Illness & Autoimmune Conditions. Serving virtually in Florida and Oregon.