Jacqui s story

The Agoraphobic Traveller Jacqui's story:

Jacqui s story

Jacqui Cole – Luxury Wedding Photographer

The consultant explained I had meningitis. Not typical symptoms - but being a doctor, he recognised I had meningitis.

Sign Up to Join StandUp People Facebook Group When Pam "left for college" a week earlier then me, I road tripped to Berea her first weekend so that we knew what college was like together.
Jacqui's Story – Women of Aviation Week However in the government made the decision to allow female military pilots, and I was selected as one of the two first women to begin RAF pilot training. There was a very different atmosphere during these two years, to put it in context; the Berlin Wall fell, the Soviet Union collapsed and the first Gulf War saw the liberation of Kuwait.
Adults get it too A woman who works even harder as the sun goes down or when the kids go to sleep.

Within four hours I had had a CT scan, a lumbar puncture, my first dose of antibiotics and steroids, and was unconscious in intensive care. I had a tube through my nose, a urinary catheter and bruised veins like a novice drug user.

But Jacqui s story had survived - and I was going to get better through sheer determination. The high dose steroids gave me lovely pictorial hallucinations and kept me awake despite my desperate need to sleep. I was perishingly cold and then boiling hot. My blood pressure stayed high, my childhood squint returned and persisted.

I still felt curiously detached as though at a distance from what was happening. Turns out I could only manage two steps upright and the toilet at home was further away than the one in hospital. I had lost my independence.

Friends and family were great those first weeks: It was some months before we finished all the homemade meals. He said he would keep an eye on me but to expect to feel like every system in my body had experienced a shakeup and would be reeling for some time.

Jacqui s story

I was like a learner driver in the car. Small stroke-like damage can sometimes occur, but an MRI was clear so I carried on trying to improve. Because I could walk more and tidy and cook, I looked like I was getting better. Everyone wanted me better, me most of all.

But it all seemed a bit superficial. I could only walk in flat shoes til I asked for a physio referral and was seen by the neuro-rehabilitation service, who said I should have seen them from before I was discharged. I struggled with putting earrings in and doing up fasteners as my fine motor control was poor.

Both of these are not uncommon after serious illness, but they were upsetting and difficult to rationalise. It felt like I was going backwards.

I went on planned holidays, which was fine if I wanted to relax, but tough when I had more to do. My mood and temper got worse and I was barely sleeping. Under pressure of any kind, I struggled. What was the point? It was weeks before it dawned on me that I was depressed.

She explored ways to help me feel better, starting with not pushing myself so hard and being more open about the problems I was having. Resources on the NHS Mind Zone and from the Sleep Council helped me to start improving the amount and quality of sleep I had and control unhelpful thoughts.

I learned to roll with the bad days and hang on til the better ones came round. I felt very isolated. I cried with relief when I looked on the Headway website at symptoms of executive dysfunction after brain injury and realised it described what I had been going through.

The counselling I initially resisted has made a real difference as I can talk about the difficult things without upsetting others and I have learned strategies to help me cope better. I have learned to prioritise a good sleep pattern if only because I break fewer glasses that way.

I still get weary at times and frustrated with memory lapses or being able to knit but not sew machines are more complex than they used to seem. I was a proud, if bemused and exhausted, Mother of the Bride this summer. These were small, but significant, achievements for me personally.Jacqui Saburido was born and grew up in Caracas, Venezuela.

Jacqui's story: The Agoraphobic Traveller | Mental Health Foundation

An only child, she lived with her father after her parents divorced. She loved going to the beach, dancing, and hanging out with her friends. The story is true and heart-wrenching. Jacqui was a student from Venezuela who had come to the U.S.

to study English. On September 19, , year-old Jacqui was in a car with four other friends on the outskirts of Austin, Texas when they were hit by an year-old high school boy on his way home from drinking with some friends. Jacqui has agoraphobia but has managed to look after her mental health by pursuing her passion of travelling and photography in a remarkable way using Google Street View.

Having a doctor for a husband may have saved Jacqui’s life after she contracted pneumococcal meningitis at the age of 57, as, her initial symptoms weren’t typical. Jacqui's story. My first impression of Scott?

He was eating deli meat while coaching and didn't do a lot of talking. The only other guy I knew that ate deli meat as a snack out of the bag was my dad.

He liked to eat and workout. He didn't talk much and it was hard to gauge his emotions.. he must be a jerk right?

Aug 06,  · Jacqui and Sean's Stories Jacqueline Saburido. Jacqueline Saburido was taking a break from college when she came to the United States to study English.

Jacqui's Story & Prime for Life