Your Story

Dear CMTers,

I apologize for not blogging as often lately--life has been rather hectic, which I'll explain more in the Patella Trials "series".

When I first had the idea to create this blog, my first job was to think of a title. I figured that "Life With CMT" was appropriate, since that was what I was going to write about, my life with CMT. However, I think that to really understand CMT (and I do want more people to understand it), you need to hear more than one person's story. So I'm asking you to give me your story. Tell me your life with CMT. Depending on how many stories I can collect, I'll most likely either put them in their own posts, or have a section for them when my website is finished.

Let me give you some more details for those of you who think this is something you might want to do:

• Please include which type of CMT you have, if you know.
• Let me know if I should include your name or leave it anonymous.
• You can either write it like a mini-bio, or do it in an interview form. If you'd like it to be more of an interview, which is fine, you can have me email you a list of questions to get you started. Some examples-
• When did you begin to notice signs of your CMT?
• When were you diagnosed with it, and with what type?
• How has it affected your life and what ways do you use to deal with it?
• etc.
• Write it however you feel most comfortable.
• It can be as long or short as you like.

You can email me your story at lifewithcmt@gmail.com, or my personal email, rainbowblast@comcast.net. Just make sure to include CMT in the title of your email.

If you have any questions or comments, please either leave them in a comment in this post or feel free to email me.

Thank you all!

Patella Trials Part II

In no time I was being wheeled through a hospital hallway. My pain had been less due to the medication, but that state of slight comfort left quickly. Muscle spasms soon started erupting in my dislocated knee sending me into pain more excruciating than I had ever imagined, or thought I’d be forced to experience. I was now screaming in the seemingly perfect rhythm that the spasms came. I could feel the staff wheeling my stretcher start to go faster.

Finally we made it into my own private examination room. The spasms had mostly subsided but they still gave me a very large dose of morphine – I did not discourage them from the task. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long though before the spasms started again and I was screaming again, even drugged with all of that morphine. I was begging them to give me something else to take it away. However, in order to do this my dad had to sign a special paper giving his consent, before he signed he looked at me and asked “So, what is it worth to you?” I was not amused, he signed, and they gave me a large dose of yet another drug. Ahhh, bliss.

I looked up at the TV in a corner of the room—the University of Michigan football team was playing. I looked down at the now blue and yellow paint stained sheet I was laying on; coincidentally, Michigan’s colours are maize and blue, and every staff member who touched me got a little extra of the school colors on their already maize and blue uniforms – I was in, after all, the University of Michigan hospital. Then one of the doctors started poking around my knee, drawing my attention away from the TV. Before I could realize what she was doing she popped my kneecap back into place. Fortunately, the pain was minimal after all that medication.

Next I was wheeled to another room to get X-rays of my knee. Apparently there is a 30% chance of fracturing something with this type of injury, but thankfully I was “fine” in that respect. After that they put an immobilizer on my leg, gave me a pair of crutches (even though I can’t use them even without the injury), and well, pretty much just sent us on our way.

Once we’d gotten me into the back seat of the car (with assistance), my dad suddenly piped up, “Wait, now what are we gonna do?”