Autonomically Isabelle

Alternate Title: But Wait, It Gets Worse A lot of my fainting stories will go unmentioned for the rest of eternity, but some are more significant than others. The event I’m about to share is what I remember as starting Isabelle’s Downfall. I believe I was about 14-15 years old, but no one really remembers. I was in the car with my mom and sister. We had just driven through McDonald’s and then stopped at the eye doctor (in the same parking lot) so that my sister could go in and get her glasses adjusted. They went inside and I was left alone in the front seat. I had french fries in one hand and sweet & sour sauce in the other. They didn’t leave me alone for that long, so surely it would be fine, right?! Nope, I fainted.  Except, this time, unlike every other time in my life, there wasn’t a clear reason. Here’s what happened. I became bored waiting for them, and leaned down to steal a sip of my mom’s coke. I took a drink while still leaning down. Immediately, I experienced what I...

Alternate Title: I Am Very Good At Fainting  Alright, I know everyone wants me to get right to the juicy stuff after teasing you with that introduction. What’s the diagnosis so I can Google it and leave?!  No, no, sit down. This is my therapeutic story time. You get to find out at the same time I do. But not to worry, all shall be revealed.  However… We are going to start around the time I was 6 years old, so you may be waiting a bit.  I am the clumsiest person I know, and this was still true when I was a child. Somehow, at some point in time, little Isabelle managed to fall in the bathroom so badly that she split her chin open. When her dad was trying to assess the damage/clean out the grievous wound she had just endured, he was holding her up where she could see it in the mirror. We would learn this was a mistake when she flopped forward like a dead fish and banged her head on the faucet so hard she had to go to urgent care to get a CT scan for potential head traum...

I’m going to be honest, my first name idea for this blog was “Unwell Isabelle” because it rhymed, but I ended up going with something a tad more neutral. If you’re reading this, it’s likely that you already know me, and may know that I have struggled quite a bit with chronic illness in my life - especially related to my autonomic nervous system (thus “Autonomically Isabelle.” It’s clever, I know).  For years, I was a medical mystery not taken seriously by doctors because they thought I was just a hysterical teenage girl wanting attention. Then I finally got diagnosed with my autonomic system disorder, and learned to cope with it over the course of a few more years. Just the other week, I was unexpectedly diagnosed with a central nervous system disorder that puts my entire life into perspective. (Seriously, now EVERYTHING makes sense.)  Even now, I am learning new things about my body and my messed up nervous systems that I never anticipated, and raising new questions I ne...