Hannah is a member of the Centre who lives with FND - she's been coming to us since 2024. She's written this poem to tell us how she felt about her diagnosis, her referral, and the progress she's made since she started visiting the Centre.  

If you'd like to learn more about FND, we've got an information page here.

We hope you enjoy Hannah's poem.  

A Poem by Me, about FND

by Hannah Brownlee

I share my story, it’s also a rhyme. 

Please consider reading these musings of mine. 

 

For today is the day I let my words flow.

Writing them down is cathartic, you know. 

 

My illness struck random, an ordinary day.

No idea of the battle that was headed my way.

 

Hospital bound with concern for my brain.

Poking and prodding, the day was a strain.

 

No answers revealed by scan, test or wire.

Doctors puzzled, perplexed, in confronting this quagmire.

 

It happened so sudden, sneaky, insidious.

Attempts to walk had me looking ridiculous.

 

Safe to be discharge, though clearly not fine.

Medics unknowing this condition of mine. 

 

Days passed.  I’m tired.  Weak. Muscles tightening.

What’s happening to me?  It’s so very frightening.

 

Upset caused by every tremor and twitch.

Betrayed by my body.  What’s causing this glitch?

 

Losing control.  A stumbling gait.

Legs dragging – so heavy.  Feeling their weight.

 

What will it take to be freed from this curse?

Weeks turned to months. Things getting worse. 

 

Is this a punishment? A hoax? Or a test?

I’m so far away from my physical best.

 

A different hospital, and a long waiting game.

My symptoms at last could be put to a name.

 

“You have FND”.  Three letters, a breakthrough.

Scared and uncertain.  “But what can I do?”

 

“Why me?” I thought.  I’m too young for this, surely?

Unready.  Unwilling to admit I was poorly.

 

“You can’t help your stumbles” the neurologist preached.

Brain/body signals aren’t being reached.

 

“As hard as it is, you still need to move.”

“Do this” he said “to see symptoms improve.”

 

Armed with new knowledge of brain, nervous system, muscle.

Information acquired, this girl now had to hustle!

 

Absolved, overwhelmed.  Then a new referral came.

Could this be the one that would change the game?

 

Off we went, tentative, to the NTC.

(Which conveniently wasn’t too far from me!)

 

Scared to visit at first, I have to confess.

Now I feel gratitude I need to express.

 

With help from the physios, the classes and gym

My illness’s outcome looks a lot less grim.

 

It’s fair to say I’ve a mountain to climb.

The peak’s not in sight yet – but maybe, with time…

 

Now challenged daily by this body and brain.

Often left wondering “will my old life be mine again?”

 

Mostly I smile, but also, I grieve.

Life here at the Centre offers reprieve. 

 

Unknown to me now if I’ll fully get better.

Come what may, staff assure me, “we’re in this together”.

 

With support, routine, and laughs with new friends.

Even with my diagnosis, life doesn’t end.

 

Facing reality has been pretty tough,

But it turns out I’m made of rather strong stuff!

 

It’s with thanks to this wonderful place I can thrive.

Feeling grateful each day for being alive.