Bucks
Guillain-Barre Syndrome - Part One
Dear Friends,
Good
morning. “It’s a small world after all.” I’ll bet that you remember that
lovely, high-spirited Disney song from the 1970’s. It’s the running theme of my
next columns about my experiences at
Before I begin however, I wanted to reflect on the life of Richard “Dick” Hoch who died several weeks ago. I feel badly that I didn’t write about him during his lifetime. Glowing obituaries are comforting to the family of course. But it would have been better for the community to honor a solid member while he was still with us.
Second, I couldn’t attend his memorial service because I’ve been in several hospitals for the past two weeks, wresting with Guillain-Barre Syndrome (more on GBS later). Fortunately, Mighty Betsy was at the service and brought a program to me.
Dick Hoch, 84, was a member from that famous generation that TV anchorman and author Tom Brokaw dubbed “The Greatest Generation.” Dick Hoch served in combat during World War II [in France and Germany] and won many medals including the Purple Heart. He came home, raised a family and made important contributions to his community. Dick became a chemical engineer and spent his career in Quakertown with the W. R. Grace Company, the successors of Endura.
Dick was always helping in the community. He served on Quakertown’s Planning Commission, the Quakertown Hospital Board and a Trustee at the YMCA. You’d find him volunteering for all just causes.
I remember his tenacity as a tennis player. Dick was a tough, formidable competitor.
M.B. told me that his service was very moving. Dr. Stephen Smith’s reading of “There is No Death” must have been comforting. The Smith family recently lost their daughter Alexis to cancer.
As Dick’s service drew to a close, the congregation heard a letter which he had written to his family and friends. It was titled “From Beyond.” M.B. told me about two of his thoughts.
First, Dick told the listeners not to feel sad because he has been reunited with Sue, his beloved wife. And second, he asked forgiveness from anyone he may have hurt along life’s way. I was so impressed with that thoughtful touch.
Underneath that competitive surface, Dick Hoch was a very sensitive man.
We’ll miss him.
And now to “It’s a small world after all.” Guillain-Barre Syndrome (GBS) is an insidious condition which strikes without warning and if not diagnosed and treated quickly, can be fatal. “GBS is a disorder in which the body’s immune system attacks part of the peripheral nervous system,” the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke explains.
“The first symptoms of this disorder include varying degrees of weakness or tingling sensations in the legs. In many instances, the weakness and abnormal sensations spread to the arms and upper body. These symptoms can increase in intensity until the muscles cannot be used at all and the patient is almost totally paralyzed.”
GBS is rare. It usually occurs a few days or weeks after a patient has had symptoms of a viral infection. In my case, I had a bad cold for three weeks. Dr. Joseph O’Neill, our family doctor, advised me that if a cold hasn’t diminished after one week, see your physician. (Foolishly, I didn’t.) GBS is curable but early detection is critical.
Two weeks ago, I went to bed feeling fine. In the middle of the night, I awakened and my feet were numb. My balance had vanished. The next day, I saw Dr. O’Neill. A few hours later, the numbness had spread to my ankles and finger tips.
I called my college friend, Dr. Robert Daroff who’s become a star in the neurological world. He heads neurology at Case Western University Medical Center in Ohio. Having trained at Penn and hearing my symptoms, he encouraged me to get to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania ASAP.
In the meantime, Dr. O’Neill set up an appointment with, Penn Neurologic
Associates, headquartered next to Grand View Hospital in
Sellersville. It was there that the diagnosis of GBS began. My first encounter
was with Dr.
For 12
hours, I must have taken every test known to man…
What’s more, one of Grand View’s nurses, Cathy (Harrison) Siatkowski is the daughter of Joe Harrison who taught me to play bugle calls in the army. Joe’s 92, in great health and still fits into his World War II uniform.
But I stray.
The next day, I met Dr. David Bayard, one of Penn Neurologic’s members who believed that I was suffering from GBS. It turned out that his diagnosis was correct but there were interesting twists and turns before confirmation. Mighty Betsy kept Dr. Daroff informed of the process and it was he that convinced everyone that I should get to the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania (HUP) promptly.
I’m not certain whether it was the impending snow storm or the creeping paralysis that determined that Penn Star helicopter service would fly me to HUP. Penn Star arrived at Grand View, strapped me down and off we went. It took only 12 minutes to go from Sellersville to dead center Philadelphia! Because I was on my back and could not see, one of the team gave me a mirror so I could watch the sights. Mike Henken, Diane Lerch, Mike Lynch, and J.J. Rivera comprised the team. Thank you, airmen.
It only took three minutes to unload and get me to my room on HUP’s neurology wing. The speed of the transfer was astonishing.
Next week, I’ll take you through the steps for GBS confirmation and its cure. Stay tuned.
Sincerely,
Charles Meredith
P.S. By the way Grand View’s method of patient meals is
unique. It’s called “room service.” From