Help Essma get her life back.

I was healthy, spunky, social and fiercely independent. I was born in California, grew up in Oregon, and Kentucky has been home for the last 35 years. I earned a degree in Interior Design and Project Management in Seattle, and my work took me to multiple continents, countries and states. I planned events, volunteered at the Humane Society and in my community, and I was about to launch my podcast, “The Gabbi Hijabi.”

Then, slowly, something changed. It didn’t happen all at once. Little by little my body started doing things no doctor could explain: pain, numbness, weakness, spasms, tremors, dizziness, falls, and trouble walking, speaking and swallowing. Eventually, I stopped recognizing my own body.

Seven years of searching

For more than seven years I searched for answers. I saw neurologists, primary-care doctors, specialists, physical therapists and emergency-room doctors. I went through MRIs, CT scans, EMG/NCS testing, two swallow studies, every kind of bloodwork and countless appointments. I became my own detective, because I knew something was wrong.

Without a diagnosis that explained what was happening, I couldn’t get the help I needed. I had to stop working altogether, and I was denied disability because no one could name my condition.

Finally, an answer

My neurologist at the Cleveland Clinic MS Department determined that my symptoms are consistent with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), not MS. FND is a real neurological disorder that disrupts the way the brain and body communicate. The symptoms are real, the disability is real, and most importantly, FND can be treated.

I’ve been referred to Cleveland Clinic’s specialized FND program, one of the top-rated in the country, where a multidisciplinary team will help retrain my brain and body to work together again. My local hospital can’t provide this care. Treatment takes about 4⁠–⁠6 weeks, and I need to live near the clinic to receive it.

The gap I can’t bridge alone

I live alone and I haven’t been able to work. My insurance won’t cover the treatment, and because I’m not an Ohio resident, I don’t qualify for the clinic’s financial assistance. I’m reapplying for disability with my new diagnosis, but approval can take up to nine months. I’m caught between being too sick to work and waiting for help that may come too late.

Asking for help is incredibly hard for me. I’ve always been the independent one, the creative one, the problem-solver who helps other people. But after seven years, my resources are exhausted, and I don’t want to give up now that I finally have a real chance to get better.

I want to work again. I want to create again. I want to be social again and make plans without wondering what my body will do that day. I don’t expect anyone to fix my life for me. I just need help getting to the place where I can begin rebuilding it myself.