By this time I hadn't eaten or drunk anything for an entire week. I relished my cup of tea as if it was fine champagne.
She reached up to touch the tube where it snaked out of my nose, and it fell out.
What happened to my six to twelve weeks relief from MG?
Sometimes, this damned disease gave me moments to pause and gather my positivity around me carefully and deliberately.
Easter Monday came around, and with it my 4th treatment. I was feeling so much stronger, my speech was virtually normal and my hands worked again.
I found the equipment and process both fascinating and horrifying all at once.
For the first time I noticed that when I smiled, my mouth didn't smile with me.
My resolve to resist myasthenia rather than it resist treatment, stood up and curtsied.
I spent the day resting like it was my full time job.
I can't breath very well. I can't swallow anything. I can't speak.