April 4, 2022, has defined my life for almost four years. I never imagined that I would go from driving to a friend’s house to being paralyzed from the neck down.
In a three-hour span, my dad rushed me to the hospital as nurses crowded around. Panic consumed me as I lay there, with doctors yelling questions, telling me to speak and to stop crying. I desperately tried to move my body, but there was nothing.
Over the next five hours, I underwent more than 50 tests, 38 blood draws, a CT scan and an MRI. After six hours, doctors finally gave me a diagnosis. It was transverse myelitis, a rare neurological disorder that causes inflammation on both sides of a section of the spinal cord. This damaged myelin, the protective coating around nerves. The cause was idiopathic, meaning there is no known direct cause.
For the next three months, I was transferred between two hospitals and endured intense rehabilitation. I received steroid treatments, plasmapheresis and IVIG infusions to suppress my immune system. Regaining movement was a slow process. My arms, upper body and left leg returned, but my right side was permanently affected. I was also left with no sensation on half of my left side.
After almost six months, I regained most of my movement, except in my right foot and hand. Despite this victory, life still felt frozen in the room where it began. Returning to school, my senior year was filled with anxiety, depression and trauma. My mental health declined, panic attacks became frequent and my self-esteem disappeared. I felt trapped in a body that betrayed me.
I began college in the same state, still carrying the same health struggles and symptoms. My grades began to drop, and my sense of independence changed. Accepting help or accommodations felt like asking for permission to exist as I was. For a long time, I tried to outrun my reality by pushing myself past my physical limits and ignoring my fatigue.
Slowly, recovery came in small wins, mentally and physically. I learned that the chronic fatigue and sensory issues would be permanent, but I noticed what I accomplished: getting my grades up, learning to drive again, hiking a mile and finding my voice. I realized this experience had not taken who I was before.
Since that day, I have learned to advocate and accept myself. I was no longer upset most nights about the situation and the changes in my body. Instead, I began to see it as part of my body fighting relentlessly to regain movement. I found strength in learning to adapt to a world that’s not always designed with you in mind.
To students who feel isolated, I see you. To many living with chronic illnesses, visible and invisible disabilities in college, you are not alone. According to the National Disability Center, as of 2024, well over four million college students have a disability.
Students can access a variety of accommodation services through Student Accessibility Services on campus. Information for registering for accommodations is available for students on the its website. Students can register through the new student intake form. More additional resources for academic resources, campus success and other helpful resources are also provided here.
Documentation guidelines, information on how to upload documents and required forms are available through SAS’ website, as well. The office is located on campus in Tinsley Hall Room 102 and is open from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Thursday and from 7:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. on Friday. Students can contact the office at (985) 549-2000 or by email at [email protected].
Transverse myelitis has permanently woven itself into my life, and I am proud of that. It reminds me that identity is layered and growth can emerge from life’s deepest cracks.
