Sometimes, this damned disease gave me moments to pause and gather my positivity around me carefully and deliberately.
My resolve to resist myasthenia rather than it resist treatment, stood up and curtsied.
As 2017 stomped towards spring, my ability to speak became more compromised.
And we needed to hear it from him, my specialist. I needed my husband to understand the truth.
That sounded promising. I decided that they surely wouldn't inform me that I had a tumour by letter. I must be in the clear!
It'd been just over 10 weeks of symptoms, tests, results, medications, explanations, research and apprehension.