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Diagnostiquée anorexique, elle découvre sa véritable maladie grâce à « Grey’s Anatomy »

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Quelquefois les séries médicales, malgré le fait qu’elles présentent aux spectateurs les scénarios les plus rares possibles sur les maladies, semblent ne pas être éloignées de notre réalité.

C’est grâce à la série « Grey’s Anatomy » qu’une jeune fille diagnostiquée anorexique a découvert son véritable mal, comme le rapporte Metro UK.

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Les médecins ont diagnostiqué à Olivia Vessillo, une danseuse américaine de 19 ans une anorexie alors qu’elle souffrait en fait du syndrome du ligament arqué médian (MALS), une pathologie rare. 

« Manger causait une douleur extrême, bien pire que ce que vous pouvez imaginer. Les médecins ont réalisé tous les tests auxquels ils ont pensé, mais aucun ne savait de quoi je souffrais », a-t-elle expliqué. « La maladie a rapidement empiré dès mes 17 ans. Les médecins ont réalisé tous les tests auxquels ils ont pensé, mais aucun ne savait de quoi je souffrais », a-t-elle expliqué.

Les médecins étaient convaincus que la maladie se trouvait « dans sa tête ». Toutefois, la série « Grey’s Anatomy » lui a révélé autre chose.

« Un des personnages avait exactement les mêmes symptômes que moi et a été diagnostiqué du MALS. À partir de ce moment, j’étais convaincue d’avoir la même maladie », a-t-elle ajouté. 

De nombreuses recherches effectuées sur le net ont confirmé ses suspicions.

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Olivia a été opérée en février et est sur la voie de la guérison ; elle pèse 45 kilos et apprend à remanger sainement. 

« Cette opération a sauvé ma vie. Je ne serais pas là sans elle. Avant, je détestais manger. Aujourd’hui, c’est un de mes moments préférés, c’est incroyable », conclut-elle.

 

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January 22nd… my “rebirth” day! After finally receiving a diagnosis, I underwent one of the biggest surgeries a human can go through in order to reclaim my life. Those who know me know that I typically am a private person; one who prefers to keep things that I feel make me appear weak or vulnerable on the DL. But this experience is different. As much as I would prefer to keep this struggle to myself and avoid publicly displaying myself as what I once believed would paint me as a “pity me” poster child, I now know have an obligation to share my MALS journey in order to help others struggling. I realize now that this fight didn’t make me weak. That losing some battles didn’t mean there wasn’t hope for winning the war. And finally, that it doesn’t matter what others may think; it matters what I know to be true. If you or someone you know is struggling with GI issues and has been to more than two Gastroenterologists with no answers, look into MALS or other vascular compressions. It might just save a life. PS… swipe for a super cool video of me taking my first steps without help less than 24 hrs post-op!!!!! #367

Une publication partagée par Liv (@olivia_vessillo) le

 

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Monday I was supposed to have a nerve block that would give me a taste of “Life 2.0”. It was supposed to take my pain and nausea away, I was supposed to have a surgical date, and my family and I were supposed to be celebrating with the biggest dinner we could eat. But that didn’t happen…so what did? Well, I didn’t even get the chance to get my block before having a SEVERE adverse reaction to the IV contrast dye.(Which is necessary to guide the needles that administer the block.) Immediately following injection, my heart skyrocketed to 190+ BPM and rose by the second, Drs were yelling about my failing vitals, my BP took a severe dive, all different departments and codes were being called, and the defibrillator was prepared and ready. I could feel my heart ready to explode,I couldn’t breathe from the pressure,I was shaking,and I was convinced I was going to pass out. 10 people sprinted through the hospital with me, dazed on a gurney, only to bring me to a room with 20 or 30 other doctors that met my sedated gaze with utter shock and terror. Despite the fear, the AMAZING staff sprung into action. Amongst the chaos, I heard lots of shouting about my vitals continuing to worsen, the words “ICU”, ”ER”, discussions over what drugs would work in this unanticipated, rarely seen case, and Drs asking me questions, just trying to keep me conscious. Then the priests showed up at the foot of my bed. I was disoriented, terrified, and fighting to stay as awake and alert as possible for the sake of my own life. Eventually, they decided on the ER and injected a cocktail of meds that, by the grace of God, made things calm down about an hour later. 8 hrs after that, I made a miraculous recovery that allowed me to be discharged. Come Tuesday, a call from the hospital stated they would repeating the procedure on Thursday. I had no choice but to agree to it if I wanted surgery,so that’s what I did. Panic attacks don’t begin to cover what would consume me over the coming days. Here I was, chest pain and all, about to have the very surgery that came an inch from killing me…but I had to find a way; I refused to surrender, even if it meant facing my biggest fear to date.

Une publication partagée par Liv (@olivia_vessillo) le