The story of Jessica Livingstone
I don’t even know where to begin. In September of 2016, I can remember being at a flea market with my parents and having tingling sensations up and down my arms and headaches. They had taken me to the emergency room and we were told it was “migraine aura.” That December, I lost my balance getting of the shower and hit my head on the sink. I started getting terrible headaches and I had to wear sunglasses and stay in bed to ease the severe pain. My parents took me back and forth to the emergency room, they just kept saying it was a concussion and switching my medication. We were then advised to see a neurologist who knew automatically I had to be admitted. After an MRI, we learned that I had been in the throws of a massive stroke and that my brain was so swollen the halfway point was all the way over to one side. I was immediately intubated and my parents received the news: Moya Moya. Sounds like some weird exotic thing right? Not so much. Moya Moya is a disease of the brain which shrinks the brain’s blood vessels so that it does not get enough blood. Eventually, this leads to a stroke. It started off as an Asian Disease, afflicting mostly Japanese people. But, it seems Moya Moya crossed that imaginary line into all populations, me being one of them. I suffered four strokes and had to endure three brain surgeries, never knowing if they would be successful. The one thing I liked about myself was my hair, and that had to be shaved off over and over again. My brother shaved his head and surprised me so that I wouldn’t be alone. I was at a risk, for a time, of having a stroke and forgetting who my family was. Around this time, Naoko, a wonderful Counselor at the hospital, nominated me for Make A Wish. It helped so much to be able to dream about a wonderful place I’d like to see. I remember being intubated and drawing a sun on my mom’s hand because I dreamed of going to Africa. After my third brain surgery, there was a week when I started to fail. I had IV’s up and down my body. I started pulling through slowly, but from the shock I developed ICU Psychosis. I stopped communicating and screamed when anyone came near me. My parents then thought I had lost my mind. But they, along with the nurses, found a way to have our friends bring animals to the hospital to visit with me. When they brought me my beloved cat, Simba, I said “My baby.” Shortly after recovering, I was transferred to a rehab facility with my mom where we would stay for six weeks-my mom took care of me 24/7 and never gave up on me. Presently, I have lost some peripheral vision and feeling in one hand, but it is a miracle that I am here and able to go to College, and soon to a prom! For those still facing their medical journey, never give up! Stay Strong. Miracles Do Happen, believe that!