In February, shortly after my 18th birthday, I spent 3 months in and out of UPMC's neurology ICU. Over these three months, I watched myself wither away. I watched the weight melt off of my body. I could see the knots in my hair that I couldn't wash. Bruises from IVs littered both arms. I watched my body dilapidate to the point that I could no longer walk. My neck stiffened, my jaw cracked. Food made me nauseous. Sound pierced my brain. Lights blinded me. Water, whether cold or warm, was not tolerable. I watched myself fall apart. My mind still worked but I lost my words. I struggled to speak. My motor skills were impaired. I lost the ability to write. My left hand and right hand didn't work the same. Neither of them worked particularly well. All that I could vocalize to express the screaming in my head was to cry. I'd cry until I went to the hospital. Again. And again. And again. Memories would flash through my head. Childhood memories. How good things used to be. How I'd taken my life for granted. How I hoped to wake up the next morning. I went to bed terrified. There were never answers. They didn't know what was wrong.

Since I couldn't speak, they thought it was depression. Since I couldn't walk to leave my house, they thought it was anxiety. But that wasn't it. I knew it wasn't. I went through test after test, needle after needle. MRIs, EEGs, spinal tap, blood work, EKG, CT scan, motor skills tests. They blindly pumped medicine in my body. At one point my body got cold and it shook. I couldn't see anything. My vision was flipped. I looked up but saw the floor. It was all a blur. This was the same medicine that was supposed to help me. It was three months later that they discovered it was a status migraine. One that had enflamed and swollen my cerebellum. I was given medicine for this through an IV. I still remember how the Toradol burned as it entered my bloodstream. I received a "cocktail" of medication to treat the migraine. The medication was given to me at a quicker rate than a normal patient because it took a lot to reverse the damage that had been done. I cried as my arm burned from the IV and from the constant medicine entering me. But perhaps what was worse was having a functioning mind when I could do nothing about it.

I had just started dating someone at the point that my body fell apart. Thank you for never giving up on me and for never leaving. You made me feel lovable in my most unlovable state. Thank you for walking me up to the stage at graduation to receive my diploma because I still couldn't walk without assistance. Thank you to the nurse that listened to me talk about just wanting to go to prom. She kept me positive even though the outcome was unlikely. To the doctor that was doing his residency at UPMC, thank you for solving my medical mystery. You put an end to a very long few months and provided me with the hope I'd been looking for.

To my parents, you are the greatest people that I have had the privilege to know. Dad, thank you for holding my hand through every single MRI and for taking off from work for those three months. Mom, thank you for laying with me every night that I cried. Thank you for carrying on with work even though I know it was tough. Thank you both for listening to me, for crying when I cried, for driving me to Pittsburgh. Thank you for being my voice when I could not speak. Thank you for staying the night with me in those uncomfortable hospital chairs. And dad, thank you for sleeping in the lobby when I couldn't fall asleep from your snoring. Thank you for having a cheeseburger ready for me when I woke up after taking steroids. Hospital food never tasted so good. Thank you for holding my hand when my veins burned from medication and when I cried from a needle piercing my spine. Thank you for taking me to get my prom dress refitted even though I only made it to prom for one dance. Mom, thank you for shaving my legs while I cried from the water that hurt my skin. You kept me somewhat together. Dad, thank you for letting me order endless shoes while I laid in the hospital with nowhere to go and thank you for letting me get Finn. Thank you for trying everything; from different types of doctors to new treatments. Thank you for driving me to my boyfriends baseball games even if I couldn't watch all of it. Thank you for carrying me when I could no longer walk. Thank you for taking me to get acupuncture multiple times a week even though insurance didn't cover it. Thank you for taking me to physical therapy so that I could learn how to walk again. Thank you for pushing me to find my feet again. Thank you for allowing me to discover myself again and never holding me back. Thank you for showing me what unconditional love truly is, I have never known two greater people than you.