Sunday, March 11, 2012

Life After the Wheel Chair

Michelle recently sent me her "before" story. As I can imagine, digging up this kind of history must be painful. I really want to applaud her courage for sharing this story, not only with myself, but with all of you. It's hard to imagine that such a positive, funny and beautiful girl could be hiding such a heart wrenching story. When reading this blog or checking in on Michelle's progress let it give you perspective and allow it to inspire you in your own way.


The Continuation of Michelle's Story...




OK, let me start by saying that this is the part of my story that I really don’t like talking about. It stirs up a lot of emotions and honestly, I just hate doing it. I lived it once, and I don’t really like re-opening that can of worms. However, it is a big part of my life and if sharing my story helps you in better understanding me, then it’s best if I’m an open book!

Freshman year of college was as to be expected…meals that had very little nutritional value, late nights filled with parties, trips with gal pals to the ridiculously large mall…remember, I came from Santa Cruz…, excursions with dorm mates to the crowded beaches in the San Diego sun, evenings dressed in your cutest work out outfit so we could look good in the high-tech gym…we were probably more concerned with how we looked to the opposite sex rather than our actual fitness routines…, and exciting adventures across the border to Tijuana, Mexico, where the legal drinking age was 18.

On the last trip over the border before I went home to Santa Cruz, I had gone with my boyfriend and his buddies on an all day escapade in Tijuana. We went to strip clubs, walked down a strip of shops…with everything from Mexican wrestling masks to colorful, shimmering thong undies!…, ate at a local restaurant, and stopped off for beers along the way. It was a laid back, carefree day in TJ. We got back to SDSU in the early evening and I was grateful there had been no run-ins with the Mexican Police or Border Patrol… that had been my main concern crossing the border with these guys!;)

Over the following week or so of school, I began experiencing some strange symptoms. I fell at completely random instances, which at the time, seemed funny. When I would talk on the phone to my mom, she later told me that it kind of sounded as if I had marbles in my mouth. My quick, snappy sense of humor wasn’t coming to me as quickly. It was as though I would simply forget a word for a second. It was out of the ordinary, but I tried to just ignore the strange symptoms and continue to live my life as normal.


Michelle with her father in the hospital.


A close family friend, RenĂ©, had just died of a brain rumor. Her diagnosis was completely random and the tumor turned her life upside down and the end came much too quickly. I was scared to confront my symptoms because I was afraid that I might have one of those random brain tumors. It may seem silly now, but my fear of a brain tumor like Rene’s was totally real back then…so, I chose to push that fear to the back of my mind, and simply ignore my symptoms!

After finals came and went, my Pops picked me up from college and we headed back up north, home. My mom and Dad had moved out to Colorado, so my plan was to stay the summer with my Pops ‘n fam. I was very excited as I hadn’t spent that long with my Pops EVER! As it turns out, God had a different plan for my life.

Instead of spending a fun-filled summer with my Pops, Camille, and my brothers, I got extremely sick, losing my ability to walk, and my Pops had to carry me piggy-back style into the ER. I was examined and studied by countless doctors, but no official diagnosis could be made. I was admitted into the hospital where they hooked me up to an iv that flooded my body with numerous drugs and steroids to kill off whatever was attacking my body. The assailant went down and I stabilized. Now all that was needed was for me to do a quick recovery…right?

Wrong. I was transferred over to the rehab facility where I unexpectedly got worse. Friends and family came to visit me at the rehab facility, I’m sure expecting to see me on the mend. Rather, I was a mess. There were times when I was too embarrassed to interact with visitors, so I would simply fake sleeping. The one time this method didn’t work so well, was when a group of about five girlfriends stopped by to visit. My mom was already in the room with me when the girls came by and decided to make themselves comfortable and chat with my mom. I was trying so hard to pretend that I was sleeping, but the stories they were sharing with my mom gave me the giggles! My gig was up. I was caught. The girls and I all laughed together, and it actually felt good to be around friends for that moment.

When my status continued to decline, we made the decision to have me checked out by the team at the UCSF Hospital. The doctors there gave me a four hour MRI, sent samples of my blood all around the world, tested me for things like Cat-Scratch Fever and even questioned me about “chasing dragons”…apparently, that’s chasing one drug with cocaine (or something) afterwards to increase your high! I did have to admit all of my wrong-doings…use your imagination…to the doctors with my mom and grandmother in the room, but I was definitely not a hard-core drug addict! After a few weeks of the doctors trying, yet failing, to figure out what was wrong with me, I made the decision to take an air ambulance back to the University of Colorado Hospital so that I could be close to my mommy!

In Colorado I sunk into a major depression. Instead of trying to figure out what was wrong with me and doing something medically to make me better, I was given in-patient rehab every day. And every day I continued to decline…there seemed to be no hope. I lost my voice completely, got down to 89 lbs and had to get a g-tube in my stomach so that I could receive food and water, became increasingly immobile, and over time in the various hospitals, lost control of my bowels and bladder. I was given a catheter for daytime accidents and put in diapers at night. It was humiliating. And there was nothing I could do about it. I spent a total of 8 months in the different hospitals and when I was finally released, they wheeled me out in a wheelchair.

I spent the next several months at our house in Colorado with my mom, Dad, and siblings. I just sank deeper into my depression at the house…Colorado was never home to me. I knew no one, and my Pops would fly out to see me lying motionless in my hospital-style bed, barely ever eating by mouth, and peeing into a bag. I had become suicidal, all I could do was think about killing myself because I had lost all ability to do anything about it.

My saving grace was when Christy and Dawn flew out to see me. I think my mom and Dad saw a positive change in my demeanor when Christy and Dawn were visiting me, which helped to make the move back to Santa Cruz/Scotts Valley, California an easier choice. Our move back to my hometown was welcomed by all. I was greeted back with a big bbq with a bunch of friends and family!

My depression began to lift as soon as I was back in Cali. That first year back I improved a lot. I remember lying on the couch at my Pops’ house when I was able to move my left leg for the first time! I could barely bend my left knee, but it was movement! I was home alone when Alex pulled up in his burly truck. I immediately made him pull up a chair and “Watch this!” Using all of my strength and focus, I bent my left knee a half of an inch! It’s funny now, but back then Alex made the moment as special as it felt by flashing a smile and saying “Good job!"

I also made an easy 100 bucks that year by eating a whole cheeseburger! I say it was easy, but back then eating an entire bacon cheeseburger from Chili’s was a huge task! My Pops hand-fed me the cheeseburger, and Camille paid me the big bucks! Camille later said that she bet me to eat the entire thing so that I could prove, to myself, that I had the capability of actually eating by mouth. That was a pretty good strategy to get me to start eating, because it wasn’t long after that I was able to get my g-tube taken out!

When I got my power wheelchair, my wheeling around became independent. I was messing around with my spiffy new wheelchair out in front of my Pops’ house, at the end of a cul-de-sac, when my brother, Wes, and I discovered the low-rider status of my wheelchair. I leaned the chair all the way back and, with encouragement of Wes to do it, put the wheelchair in “drive”-mode and cruised down the street. We laughed at how “ghetto” I looked rolling down the street.

A few years passed and I was able to gain a lot more mobility. Both of my arms were moving again, I was eating with utensils under my own control, my voice and bowel/bladder control had improved, and I was able to move my left leg, and sometimes the right, significantly more than half an inch. Although I was improving, very slowly, I still had suicidal thoughts. I was prescribed anti-depressants, which definitely helped, but nothing could prepare me for what was coming.

On October 3, 2010, my brother, Wesley James Ellis, took his own life. His loss devastated me and continues to break my heart to this day. With Wes’ suicide I made a promise…Not only did I promise myself, but my family members as well… that I would never ever kill myself.

As of January 1, 2011, I have had Wes in my heart and mind telling me to push myself. I have to walk again. I’m doing it with Wes now…screw the wants of others. I’ve got Wes as my motivation and I’m doing this for me.

As of a few weeks ago, my Dad got a new job. My mom, Dad, and siblings are moving to Lafayette…that’s about an hour and a half north of Santa Cruz. I am choosing to stay in SC. I would like to move into an assisted-living facility, and I would love to have the independent mobility to move out on my own! I have until June to make something happen.

Currently, I go to the Chiropractor on Mondays, I have Personal Training & Speech Therapy on Tuesdays, a work-out on the pilates machine/leg presses on Wednesday, Physical Therapy & Personal Training on Thursdays, and Physical Therapy on Fridays. All of my appointment are 1 hr a piece…except for my Chiropractor visits!

I have to remember that God’s in charge. I learned that with way my life has turned out. Do Not Be Afraid Of Tomorrow, God Is Already There.

2 comments:

  1. Michelle you are so amazing! Keep up the good work, you are so inspiring.
    Xoxo Fanny

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  2. “I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!”
    ― Dr. Seuss

    ReplyDelete