I had a rough year in eighth grade. I moved states summer before and that move was extremely difficult. Most of my struggles in eighth grade came from the fact that I just did not feel well. I could not explain what was wrong, I only knew I felt awful.
So let's add some picture perfect cheerleaders and me... who just felt so out of place. A southern gal who was used to playing football suddenly had to learn about Coach purses and Tiffany's necklaces. Hello different culture. Couple that with the fact that I was continuously feeling worse, but yet I could not explain my pain. Yes, I had a very rough eighth grade year.
However, ninth grade mean high school. It was a fresh start! I would go from a school with thirty eight graders to over seven hundred ninth graders. And I was going to be in the marching band! I was going to attend band camp in Northern Arizona the summer before ninth grade. I was excited, but also anxious.
I don't remember what day of band camp it was, but I do remember that the weather was gorgeous and that I had a good breakfast that morning. We were just doing basic drills that day. Stand at attention. Turn right. Turn left. Turn around. I remember not feeling well, but I did not want to draw any attention to myself.
Then the world went black.
"AMBER! AMBER!! AMBER!!!!"
When I regained consciousness, I realized that my friend and fellow clarinet player was standing over me and shaking me violently while screaming my name. Slowly, the world came back into focus. I was surrounded by people which overwhelmed me. I was extremely confused so I started crying. Someone said I started convulsing on the field. However, no one could tell me how long I was unconscious.
Awesome. I was now the freshman that fainted at band camp. At least that makes a good "this one time at band camp..." story.
My unexpected blackout was the final straw. My mom was determined that there was something else wrong with me. Hypoglycemia was no longer fitting the facts. The hunt for answers just escalated. We had to find a doctor that was willing to search for the answer.
What was wrong with me?
See my mom's response
|The t-shirt hides the severe muscle wasting in my arms.|
I cannot hold my head straight up nor can I look at the camera.
My dizziness was unmanageably high.
Labels: High School, Pre-Diagnosis