Tyler D.
Photography by Alex Gogo
If you’re reading this, please do not ever give up on yourself.
When we are young, I feel like we all learn a simple yet concise lesson: superheroes and villains are real, just not the way we originally thought. We also learn that while the world constitutes a lot of good, there is just as much bad. Growing up, I believed doctors were superheroes, but in my case, they turned out to be my worst enemies.
When I was 13 years old, just beginning to understand the way the world works, I finally realized I understood how it was supposed to work, but not how it actually does work. I began to get sick and was rapidly losing motor function in my lower extremities. I did not know why or how it was happening, but I was scared. I did not have many people in my corner since all my so-called “friends” disappeared the moment times got tough, though at the time I did not blame them because I thought to myself, “Who would want to spend time with the kid in the wheelchair?” I fell into a state of depression because not only did I not have friends, but I was unable to conduct simple day-to-day tasks on my own. I lost the ability to live independently and felt reliant on those who surrounded me. So, in a situation like this, where you are quickly losing control of your body and do not have many friends you look to two things – your family to be in your corner, and the doctors to help you.
In my case, I had one of the two. My family did support me to the best of their abilities, but unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my so-called superheroes. They diagnosed me with a psychiatric condition and claimed that I was faking the very disease that left me bound to a wheelchair, which at the time left me to believe that life as I knew it was over. They told me until I stopped “faking it,” I would never recover. I agreed with them; I would never recover because, in my heart, I knew I was not faking it, but with the help of nobody, how was I going to recover?
I was devastated and in complete disarray, living every day knowing what was happening to me was thought of as a lie, and the worry that ran through my body every day, not knowing what else would happen, left me trembling. I felt alone, and I needed a lifeline, and thankfully, my family was able to cast it.
My mother was able to obtain one of the better neurologists on record and after running some tests (which were never conducted before claiming that I was faking the very disease that crippled me), diagnosed me with Transverse Myelitis. He was able to find inflammation, meaning an elevated white blood cell count, in my cerebrospinal fluid via a lumbar puncture, as well as some signaling issues in my brain after running a PET scan. The elevated white blood cells demyelinate the nerves, causing improper flow of signals from the brain to the affected areas of the body, which was consistent with my doctor's findings.
As exciting as this was, it also brought my darkest moment. My doctor told me, “If they had done diagnostic testing upon the onset of your disease, you never would have been relegated to a wheelchair.” That was the moment I lost it. I felt like years of my life had been wasted for nothing. However, I still had not hit my rock bottom because his next sentence was, “I do not know if you will ever walk again.” That was my rock bottom. I thought I had lost my ability to walk, my friends, and my happiness all due to the incompetence surrounding the medical field, but I strived to prove them all wrong.
With a lot of hard work and fighting and some treatment from my doctors, we were able to combat the damage that had been done and began to boost my immune system from attacking my body again. With much blood, sweat, and tears, on July 30, 2019, I was able to take my first steps again.
No matter the struggle or the pain, it was worth it, and it led me here to NYU on the pre-health track, majoring in neuroscience. I would never go through this experience again, nor wish it upon my worst enemy, but I also would not take it back. It made me realize I want to help people and never want to see someone suffer the way I did. I want a resurgence in the medical field that starts by adding people who care about their patient’s well-being and do not just look for a check, so enter me, a victim who wants nothing more than the well-being of my peers.
Tyler D., New York University
Connect With Us
To follow IfYoureReadingThis at NYU on Instagram, get in touch with our chapter, and learn about more resources available to NYU students, visit our chapter’s homepage.
AUTHOR CONTACT
This author has opted to allow readers who resonate with their story to contact them. If you would like to speak to the author of this letter about their experience, please use the form below.
