SEVERAL YEARS AGO, I was suffering with unexplained muscle weakness and pain in my legs, arms, and hands. In October 2004, there were times I had to drag my feet to walk and could only hold my hands above my head for a few seconds. The pain came at night.
Besides going to my primarycare doctor, I went to two rheumatologists, two neurologists, and an orthopedic surgeon. I was taking four different medicines—one to sleep, another for pain, a third for chemical imbalance, and a fourth for muscle spasms. After every test possible, even for Lyme disease, one of the doctors offered me a handicapped parking sticker and said he wanted to see me every three months for testing to see if anything showed up that they could treat.
The doctors were treating the symptoms and trying to keep me comfortable. They were all kind and doing all they could to help me. They voiced their ideas of what might be wrong with me, and the prognosis wasn't good. I refused the handicapped parking sticker and left the office.
