Diagnosis History, part deux

     I finally started high school Monday, August 11th, 1997.  I was sure everything was going to be okay now, that this ITP thing was just an oddity.  I had to get bloodwork done, but that was not a big deal compared to the weekend in the hospital.  When my counts came back, they were once again in the single digits.  Dr. P wanted us to come back in to do a bone marrow aspiration and look at doing steroids.
     In case you're not familiar, a bone marrow aspiration involves sticking a needle in your bone and extracting some of the marrow to study.  CMC is a teaching hospital, and the medical student who observed the procedure looked JUST LIKE Shemar Moore, formerly of The Young and the Restless fame.  I remember talking up a storm because I was so nervous.  The aspiration wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  I began steroids later that day.  I remember distinctly being told I couldn't have sugar, because the decadron interfered with blood sugar, and I lay on the living room floor, drinking diet Pepsi while my dad picked up my brothers from school.  The decadron really threw me for a loop over the next few days.  I was emotional, starving, etc....and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
     August and September were a bit of a blur and no lasting improvements, but in October, frustrations came to a head.  My mother and grandmother took me to see a homeopathic healer.  He suggested $300 worth of pills and liquids that we bought.  I began an extensive regimen of chlorophyll, shark oil, aloe vera juice, and many other natural treatments.  For this month, we rejected modern treatments and took 30 pills a day, and 2 drinks.  I do know somewhere in this time, I began getting the Depo-Provera shot to help with my periods.  It seemed as though I would start to get on the right track, have my period, and lose all my progress.  Depo was an answer to prayer, natural treatments however, were not.  We did not see any increase of counts or lessening of symptoms.
     The first weekend in November, two of my best friends were having a joint birthday party and my brother was having a birthday sleepover.  I was so psyched to be going to this high school party, my first one.  I was getting ready in the bathroom and began singing along with the radio.  The words that were coming out of my mouth were not the words I wanted them to be.  I thought this was hilarious.  I went into the kitchen to tell my mom, who did not find the episode nearly as funny as I did.  My words were still coming out all mixed up.  My mother knew something wasn't right.
     Of course, my dad was gone to pick up pizzas, and in our rural area, this would probably take an hour.  My mom had several little boys to take care of, but a family friend was coming over to help out.  After the episode, I started getting a really bad headache.  My mom called our friend to see if she could go ahead and come over, then called the hospital to let them know what was going on and that we were coming in.  This was before cellphones were so prevalent, so I don't think my dad knew what was going on until he came back.  My mom and I sped off to Charlotte, emergency flashers on.