22 January 2024
From Mountains to Miracles: My Journey of Healing and Community
The mountains have always held a special place in my heart, and I have felt “called” to them for most of my life. They seem to offer a source of solace and inspiration for many, providing a sense of peace and healing that few other places can provide.
Born and raised just outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, making a trek to the Pocono mountains was something I used to look forward to, but didn’t get a chance to experience as much as I liked. When I relocated with my family to Georgia in 2007, I drove to the North Georgia mountains as often as I could.
My favorite stopping point was Amicalola Falls. It is such a beautiful place to take in the scenery, see the wildlife, and sit and enjoy the majesty of the mountains. It was from the deck of the lodge I would manifest that one day I would live in the beautiful view that laid before me. And 14 years later, I became a very part of that view. We purchased our slice of heaven at the southern end of the Blue Ridge Mountains, directly across from that very same lodge. Little did I know that this decision would lead to a profound journey of healing, resilience, and an incredible sense of community.
A year after my family and I moved into our mountain home, life threw an unexpected curveball at us. It was 3 days before Christmas, and I woke up not feeling quite right. I had an odd tingling sensation in my core and legs, which eventually turned into numbness and the inability to step onto a curb. After a visit to my chiropractor in town, and her deep concern and speculation as to what was happening to me, I found myself in the emergency room at Piedmont Mountainside. After a battery of tests and a spinal tap, I was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome (GBS). GBS is a very rare and serious condition that affects the nerves in your body. It happens when your immune system, which is meant to protect you from illness, mistakenly attacks your own nerves. Your nerves are the wires that carry messages between your brain and the rest of your body and GBS damages these wires, causing problems like weakness, tingling, and in many cases, including mine, paralysis. Within hours of my diagnosis, my body slowly started to betray me, and I found myself in ICU feeling the numbness move through my body. Within 6 days, I was paralyzed from the right side of my face to the tops of my toes. It was the most overwhelming and uncertain time in my life.
After being transported to Emory to receive a series of infusions to stop the progression and to undergo intensive therapy, I returned to the mountains a month later, wheelchair bound, to heal and start over. Due to the severity of my GBS, it was predicted that I wouldn’t walk for at least a year. I slowly started to regain use of my arms and hands, but my legs were a completely different story. I remember wheeling myself over to the windows staring out at the mountains, praying I would learn to walk again before my hummingbirds returned and needed me to take care of them. Handfeeding them had become my favorite hobby since we moved here, and I wasn’t going to allow my condition to stop my joy.
There are so many people in this community that have played a huge part in my recovery. My doctors and therapists, who were as passionate about my recovery as I was, became partners in
my journey to learn to walk again and reclaim my life.
As weeks turned into months, I took my first steps 56 days after full paralysis, with the help of some incredible local physical therapists, who also shared a love of the mountains. Once I was able to take a series of steps and regain some balance, we moved outside on a walker and with
the mountains surrounding me, I got stronger and stronger.
But it wasn’t just the scenery that helped in my healing; it was also the community we had come to call our own. Our mountain neighbors rallied around us, offering their unwavering support in our time of need. They became more than just neighbors; they became friends and,
in many ways, my lifeline. Their acts of kindness, from delivering meals to offering to sit me with and do household chores, were a testament to the power of community in the face of adversity. My battle with GBS has transformed my life in ways I am still coming to terms with. I am learning to embrace my new normal and am committed to achieving a full recovery. I hope my story serves as a reminder that even in the face of adversity, the beauty of nature and the warmth of a caring community can provide the strength to move our own mountains.