My symptoms are horrendous.

I’m torn about would be the most effective way to try and save my life at this point.

I’m shocked by what is happening to my body, but I also know that most ER doctors are not going to believe me…right now.

Things are going to get bad soon…very bad. Then that will be obvious. But then it will be too late.

This is the fastest growing infection I’ve ever had. I cut my foot the old wooden bleacher around 5pm on Sunday (where I got the deep splinter and blood everywhere), and by the time I got to the ER at 9pm I was coughing so badly in the waiting line they asked me to put a mask on. A few hours later I was feeling mucous in my lungs. The Doxy stopped the cough for awhile. But then I didn’t take it after the second dose, and it came back.

I am grateful to everyone who has helped keep me on the planet for his long, and I ask to please keep my son David Noah in their thoughts and prayers as he will need the support. He already suffers with an emotional disconnect with the world at times, and he will be afraid.

We were very close and he will miss me very much. Remind him that I always used to say, “Where did you live before mommy’s house?” and “Where do you carry me when we are not together”. I will always be watching over him.

Please help my son get the answer to our immune deficiency, which means helping his father Luke Pals with the financial support to do so.

It is very difficult to write this post, and even as I am writing these words I am trying to think of what would be the best plan to try and save my life. I would rather not go right now. I still have too much to finish taking care of.

I guess there is never a good time to go. I am grateful for the time I’ve had here.

Love,
Tara

About hopeforanswers

Some kind of rare immune deficiency, yet to be determined. A lifetime of infections without an elevated white cell blood or fever. Very grateful to be alive, very thankful for the friends who’ve supported me and for access to literally millions of dollars worth of medical care. I’m not the bubble child, I’m somewhere in between.
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