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| Pearse |
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My name is Pearse, and I suffered from encephalitis in 1998 aged 58. Having just returned from holiday in Portugal with my wife and friends, I felt terribly weak and knew I had to see my doctor straight away. My regular MD I discovered was on holiday and, after phoning around, desperate to see any doctor, I drove in town and was eventually seen by a young doctor. He examined me and told my I had a temperature of 103 and prescribed antibiotics.
Then the headaches started - dreadful pounding pains in my head accompanied by bouts of vomiting. The following day my wife summoned the doctor to our home and when he saw my condition he immediately arranged a bed for me at the nearest hospital, and the rest of my stay still remains something of a blur.
Every doctor in the hospital seemed to come by asking me endless questions, shining lights in my eyes, while I just felt like curling up and dying.
I spent four weeks there, during which time my mother died. I wasn't well enough to go to the funeral, but I was allowed to attend the funeral service in church. On the short car journey to and from the church every nerve in my back screamed every time the car traveled over a pothole.
During all this time I felt a certain detachment from what was going around me. I was disoriented and had difficulty walking. All I wanted was to be left alone.
I had every test under the sun - or so I thought. Several brain scans, lumbar puncture, blood tests - you name it, I had it.
After the second week, the neurologist told me I had encephalitis. I hadn't a notion what it meant, and he explained what it was and how lucky I was that it was the viral version and not the bacterial strain. He told me that the condition was inflammation of the lining of the brain.
I ate very little during my stay in hospital and had lost the best part of 40lbs. It took another full three months to get back to feeling anyway normal, and I can well empathize with anyone who has suffered encephalitis. I've often said I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I was never told how I might have contacted the condition, but I can say that Portugal is well down on my list of holiday destinations.
I feel perfectly well now, and hope and pray that I will never experience anything like it ever again.
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Pearse
Ireland
Posted: Sept. 30, 2002 |
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