I’ve got some heavy news to share today. It’s been unfolding for three weeks now, and I’m finally ready to write about it.

Fall has already been such a busy season. I’ve mentioned before how my calendar couldn’t possibly be more packed, so the timing of all this has been especially hard.

On Monday, October 20th, I had a minor vertigo episode at work and then a major one on the drive home. The next morning, the same thing happened again. I called my doctor and texted my coworkers.

It’s eerie reading that text message now. I thought I would be taking a half a sick day. Only instead of the vertigo I’ve had in the past this one was completely debilitating. I was crying, screaming, praying, and throwing up—all while the room spun around me. I felt like I was losing my mind. Somehow, I managed to calm down enough to be driven to my doctor’s appointment. She diagnosed me with Meniere’s disease and prescribed a scopolamine patch which was supposed to help.

I’ve known about Meniere’s for years. In fact, I wrote about this diagnosis back in 2013. I have text book symptoms including vertigo. The patch seemed to help, and the good news is I got to see Z lead worship on the football field at a big FCA event and it blessed me so much!

I even posted on Facebook about what a gift it was because I had been having health issues (but I had no idea just how much of a blessing it was and just how bad the health issues were). That night I felt such a peace as they played the song Gratitude by Brandon Lake. It’s a special song for a lot of reasons and one that SJ and I even did a sign language video to.

While the scopolamine patch eased the vertigo, I started having blurry vision and severe screen fatigue. I couldn’t look at my phone, computer, or TV. When I told my doctor, she ordered an MRI—STAT. Just a few days later, on Friday, October 24th, I had my first MRI. While I was in the tube, Gratitude started playing and I felt the calming presence of the Holy Spirit wash over me.

Hours later, the results came in with concerning language about “MS” and “lesions.” The next day, my doctor called and said the findings weren’t what she expected. She was worried and referred me to a neurologist—also STAT.

The following Sunday, just one day after hearing I might have MS, I was supposed to go see Nate Bargatze with my mom. I had given her tickets for her birthday back in March, and we’d been looking forward to it all year.

But when it came time to leave, I had another INTENSE vertigo episode. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere that night. I wanted her to go and have fun and we made a very last minute change for my dad to go in my place. They did have fun and the seats were so great they actually got high fives from Nate Bargatze on his way off the stage!

The thing is, I’m a trooper and I was still thinking I could go to work even though I felt like crap. At lunch one of my students noticed I wasn’t eating and said, , “Ms. Natalie, you haven’t touched your food. You need to eat.” I almost cried right there. I smiled and said, “You’re right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

Not long after that, I told a coworker I was having a minor vertigo attack and planned to just sit quietly. But moments later, I felt my neck strain like my head was about to fly off, and I said, “I’m having a major vertigo attack!” She ran to get the nurse. The kids were ushered out as I started convulsing and retching. It was traumatic—sorry to be graphic—but that’s the reality. They called J, and I was taken out of the school in a wheelchair so he could drive me home. Later, they came back for my car.

I called off work for the rest of the week.

At this point it felt like a bomb had gone off and life was moving for everyone but me. I had to cancel SO many things I planned for or was volunteering for. I could name off over a dozen obligations I couldn’t fulfill because of being bed ridden. I hated it.

When I met with the neurologist the next week she showed us the MRI scans. She said there was significant damage on my brain and wanted another MRI of my spine—STAT. Based on what she saw, it looked like I’d had MS for about five years, with both old and new lesions. Looking back there were some signs, but I just confused them for something else (I’ll save that story for another time).

The latest update is that my second MRI revealed more lesions throughout my spine, and the neurologist officially diagnosed me with Multiple Sclerosis yesterday. It wasn’t what we wanted to hear, but at the first appointment the doctor didn’t want to promise me anything when I asked questions about my future. I couldn’t function and she didn’t know the details. She shared options for a social worker if I can’t work. It shook me to my core.

This time, though, she said that given my health and age, she doesn’t see any reason I can’t live a normal life with treatment. The specifics of the treatment are still in the works, so I don’t have details yet—other than that it will start, as you may have already guessed, STAT. 

One Bible verse that has been resonating with me during this time is Psalm 119:105 “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” I learned it in King James—thank you,  Amy Grant— so you better believe that’s the version I’m quoting.

A lamp, or lantern, doesn’t light up the whole trail; it only illuminates the next step. As someone who’s done her share of camping, I can say firsthand— when you are using a flash light or lantern you have to go slowly, carefully, watching each step. You can’t see far ahead, but you can see enough for the moment.

That’s how this season feels. Step by step. I’ve had so many mixed emotions over the past few weeks, but also a peace that truly passes understanding.