Learning to walk…again

I may just look like an ordinary 8th grade girl who goes to Hazel Park, but really I’m different in many ways, mainly through the lessons I have learned in life.

December 5, 2000 was one of the most painful and shocking days of my life. It was the day the virus, which is Transverse Myelitis, hit my spinal cord. It was a normal day when I was walking back from SEM class and going to my regular class. All of a sudden my legs felt as heavy as bricks. It also felt like a thousand knives were stabbing me in the legs. I started to cry when the pain became unbearable.

My teacher asked, “Are you okay, Molly? Do you need help on math? I can show you how to do it.”

“No,” I said in a shaky voice. At this point I did not know what was happening. My teacher wanted me to go to the nurse, but I said I couldn’t get up.

Then she said, “Try.” So, I did, and just as I figured, I collapsed.

So they wheeled me to the nurse’s office and called my dad. My dad came and he had to carry me to the car, because I was paralyzed and could not walk. That night I went to the hospital unaware that it would be my home for the next few weeks. The hospital for most kids would be good, because they would think it meant no school and presents. Well, of course, that’s what I got, and plenty of visitors, but what I really wanted was to walk again and to be home for the holidays. The days and nights in the hospital seemed like they were never ending. It seemed while everyone was getting ready for Christmas, I was all alone by myself, although physically my mom and dad were there with me every night. The doctors and nurses I had were so nice and encouraging. None of them really knew what I had, at first, since it is so rare.

There were actually some fun things about being in the hospital. I enjoyed watching TV, watching movies, playing bingo, and having two Santa Clauses come and visit me. Even Aaron Gavey from the Minnesota Wild team came to visit me! If these things make you think the hospital was just fun and games, here are the things I hated. There was the MRI (because it made me feel so claustrophobic), spinal tap, all the blood (because it makes me queasy) and the electrical stimulation test. Those were very painful.

You may think those must have been very hard for me to go through, but actually fitting in when I left the hospital was more important to me. Wearing braces was so hard. People stared at me in the summertime. When I did not wear them, they stared even more ‘cause I walked so funny.

Here is where my important lesson comes in. After having to wear braces for a while, I began to think, if people do not like me for who I am, then they are not true friends. So, having this disease helped me to: 1. See who my really true friends are; 2. Have more confidence in myself; 3. See how much people really care about me; and 4. to never take anything for granted, and always think of life as a gift. That’s pretty much how it happened.

Out of the blue this disease took my walking ability away from me. Be thankful with what you have, because you never know if it might get taken away. To this day, I am still struggling with this disease and maybe will be for a very long time. I know crying will not help so, instead, I try to think of this disease in a positive way by looking at the good instead of the bad, because it helps me to accept this better. I would just like to thank my family, friends and anyone who has helped me go through this the past two years and for always having faith in me when my own faith was gone and, most of all, for helping me learn to walk again!

Below is a poem I wrote about my story: