My Experience with NF2

My name is Bonnie, I'm 24 years old, and I was diagnosed with NF2 when I was twelve.

I was in the midst of puberty, that awful, confusing period where things just start happening to your body and you have no idea how to stop it or control it. Puberty hit me pretty hard. My hair was frizzy and I needed braces and I just had that feeling and look of awkwardness. While the other girls in my grade all seemed to be perfect, with shiny hair and straight smiles, I was the freak with Sideshow Bob hair.

As if puberty isn't bad enough, not long after I got my first period, I started experiencing discomfort, twinges mostly, in my right thigh. We were on vacation at the time and I mostly ignored them, thinking I had pulled a muscle in gym. Eventually, though, the twinges became less annoying and more debilitating and I told my parents. I was taken to a doctor, where he diagnosed me with scoliosis and prescribed an MRI.

I was terrified. I was twelve years old and my mom patiently explained to me that I would be going in a tube for an hour that was loud and it seemed like the end of the world. To me, my first MRI experience felt like being trapped in a coffin--a white, incredibly LOUD, coffin. The only upside was at least I got to listen to music.

A few weeks later, the doctor called my parents with a diagnosis. I had neurofibromatosis type 2, or NF2, as us cool kids call it. I didn't understand the connotations at first. My parents sat me down and explained but all I heard was a lot of medical jargon that made no sense to my addled preteen mind. I just wanted to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, thank you.

It wasn't until a year later that the reality of the situation hit me. I was 13, we were in the pediatrician's office for a checkup, and my dad mentioned I had tumors. In my mind, tumors equaled certain death. I cried all night until I was reassured that they were benign and weren't terminal and as long as they were watched closely, I would be fine.

I had my first NF2-related surgery that year. Previously, my only two experiences with the hospital was when I was 3 and had to get my appendix out and when I was 9 and 30 lb weights fell on my fingers, requiring surgery. So this was a pretty big deal for me. I had to have spinal surgery, as one of the fourteen tumors there was pressing on my nerve, causing pain. I was in the 7th grade and I had to be homeschooled for 3 months. At first, this seemed, well, awesome. I wouldn't have to wake up at 6 am anymore! No more immature classmates throwing stuff at me and making fun of me for being awkward. Success!

After awhile, though, this situation became quite lonely. I was in the hospital for a week recuperating from surgery. My roommate was an 8 year old boy who had just had brain surgery. It was terrifying for me. My mom stayed with me the entire time, sleeping in a hard-backed nylon chair. I was 13 and the idea of staying in the big, bad hospital alone was unfathomable. This was Columbia Presbyterian, a hospital that would come to mean hell in my eyes.

As the years went on, I needed to have a few more surgeries, but the NF was mostly an annoyance. At 14, I had my first brain surgery, which took the hearing from my right ear. THe doctors said it would come back eventually, which obviously never transpired. I would have to miss a lot of classes because I wasn't feeling well, or I had a doctor's appointment in the City, but other than that, life was relatively normal.

It wasn't until after I graduated that things took a turn for the worse. I had spinal surgery right after graduation and, a month later, I came down with meningitis as a direct result, an infection. That took the hearing in my other ear. Suddenly I was 18 and deaf. I couldn't hear my friends when they would call on the phone to check up on me. I couldn't hear the doctors. I couldn't hear music. My entire life was derailed.

While I was at the hospital, there was a lot of screw-ups. For 4 days, the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me so I remained in the ER all that time. When they finally figured it out, I was, among other things, forced to wake up at 2am for a CT scan that, as it turns out, I didn;'t need; the results weren't given to us until n oon the following day, after my dad complained countless times. I had a pick line inserted (like an IV inside the body) and I was told I would be under anasthesia and not to eat all day. I didn't, and no anasthesia. My back kept opening up , leaking spinal fluid, because they told me nhot to lay on anything hard then promptly put me on a cold, HARD, metal examining table.

My parents wanted to sue for malpractice. Our lawyer said we didn't have a case so we just switched hospitals. I now go to NYU Medical Center. My doctor is John Roland and he's been caring for me for the past six years.

I have an ABI, but it doesn't work; it abruptly quit on me 3 weeks after I got it. For 5 years, I pretty much did nothing but laze around the house, crying because a lot of my friends had abandoned me, and I felt very alone. Then came RIT.

I was 23 and a Freshman at RIT/NTID, the National Instutite for the Deaf. Suddenly, I had so many experiences that were lacking in my life before. I made friends. I fell in love (with an awful excuse for a human being but that is neither here nor there). But still, the NF haunted me. In 2008, I had major brain surgery to remove a tumor and, as the brain controls everything, for months I couldn't even walk myself. I had to use a walker, a wheelchair. My hand shook terribly. Now I have mostly recovered but I still have issues with balance. I trip over air, and not in that adorably klutzy Twilightish way either. I can't walk in a straight line, making me appear intoxicated all the time. the vision in my right eye is blurry and the eye is very sensitive. Just the slightest irritation will turn it beat red. It...well, it sucks.

My biggest fear is that I won't find someone to share my life with because of my condition. My last boyfriend said he understood then did everything wrong and couldn't cope. I'm 24 and most of my friends are either engaged, married, and/or parents, and I don't want to miss out on all of those wonderful things because of the NF. Most people have large goals--to be CEO of a company or have riches and fame. All I want...is to be happy.