Three months gone . . . four months gone . . . I got a bit better, a bit worse . . . and then my brother and sister-in-law came to visit. It was so nice to see them, but they were shocked at my state, so I realized that I was NOT better. By the end of their visit, I was so slowed down that I could hardly walk. David and my brother rang the doctor, and then David and I were put in a taxi and sent to the hospital.
By the time we got there, and waited to be seen, I couldn’t talk properly or think straight. the doctor asked me my name, and I couldn’t find it in my mind. Frightening!
I was admitted ‘for observation’. Put into a ward of four people. Taken for scans and given tests and even given a lumbar puncture (which left me with intermittent horrible pain for weeks and occasional milder pain for years). All tests negative. But I got worse and worse, often just grinding to a complete halt and becoming unresponsive (although I was aware of it all).
After 10 days, I was told that there was nothing really wrong, that I was having ‘a strange response to stress’, that I would soon get better . . .