Well folks, That "Invisible Illness" ME/cfs has just claimed another loving soul.
Another that fought long and hard and did her share of Advocacy..
Please share this with as many as you can that think this illness is STILL "All In Our Heads."
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| RIP~ dear "Emily Rose Collingridge" 1981-2012 | 
Maybe something will make them finally realize that this could be their friend or daughter or son or grandson..... 
NO ONE is exempt.
May 12th, our 20th Anniversary of Advocacy is coming soon....
Please speak to your local Support Groups and make plans NOW.
We can NOT sit still any longer or again..
Please ASK your friends to HELP if they care for you "at all."
Other illnesses have "Walks" done by friends and families...
WHY Won't OUR's do the same ???
ASK THEM WHY ???
After they read this.... Thanks.
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Emily's  mother Jane has asked for these last words from Emily to be reposted.  They were written over many weeks – while her daughter still had the  strength in her body to do so. Please repost as this is Emily's final  wish. 
Jane Collingridge:  "It has been said that the following is hard  to read. But that is all we ask you to do: to read it, to  forward/re-post it and to pledge your support for the many thousands of  people like Emily who have to LIVE it" 
Emily’s Appeal:
“My name is  Emily. I developed the neurological condition Myalgic Encephalomyelitis  (ME) when I was 6 years old. 
In April 2011 I turned 30.           I still have ME. 
ME coloured every aspect of my childhood; it painfully restricted my  teens and it completely destroyed my twenties. Now, as I move into the  next decade of my life, I am more crippled than ever by this horrific  disease.   My doctors tell me that I have been pushed to the greatest  extremes of suffering that illness can ever push a person. I have come  very close to dying on more than one occasion. 
If you met me you may  well think I was about to die now – it’s like that every single day.  After all these years I still struggle to understand how it’s possible  to feel so ill so relentlessly.   My reaction to small exertions and  sensory stimulation is extreme. Voices wafting up from downstairs, a  brief doctor’s visit, a little light, all can leave me with surging  pain, on the verge of vomiting, struggling with each breath and feeling  I’ll go mad with the suffering. Of course it can also be as bad as this  for no particular reason – and often is. I cannot be washed, cannot  raise my head, cannot have company, cannot be lifted from bed, cannot  look out of the window, cannot be touched, cannot watch television or  listen to music – the list is long. 
ME has made my body an agonising  prison.   My days and nights are filled with restless sleep interspersed  with injections, needle changes (for a syringe driver), nappy changes  (as well as experiencing transient paralysis and at times being blind  and mute, I am doubly incontinent) and medicines/fluid being pumped into  my stomach through a tube. My life could be better if I had a Hickman  line (line which goes into a major vein and sits in the heart) for IV  drugs and fluids, but such a thing would likely kill me. I’m on a huge  cocktail of strong medications which help, yet still most days the  suffering is incomprehensible. During the worst hours I may go without  the extra morphine I need as I feel so ill that the thought of my mother  coming near to administer it is intolerable – this despite pain levels  so high that I hallucinate.   
I live in constant fear of a crisis  driving me into hospital; our hospitals have shown such lack of  consideration for the special needs of patients like me that time spent  in hospital is torture (eased only by the incredible kindness shown by  some nurses and doctors) and invariably causes further deterioration.    Many days I feel utter despair.   But, unlike some sufferers, over the  long years in which I’ve had severe ME (the illness began mildly and has  taken a progressive course) I have at least had periods of respite from  the absolute worst of it. During those periods I was still very ill,  but it was possible to enjoy something of life. So in these dark days I  know there is a real chance of better times ahead and that keeps me  going.   My entire future, and the greatly improved health I so long  for, however, currently hinges on luck alone. This is wrong. 
As I lie  here, wishing and hoping and simply trying to survive, I (and the  thousands like me – severe ME is not rare) should at least have the  comfort of knowing that there are many, many well-funded scientists and  doctors who are pulling out all the stops in the quest to find a  treatment which may restore my health and that the NHS is doing all  possible to care for me as I need to be cared for – but I don’t. This  wretched, ugly disease is made all the more so through the scandalous  lack of research into its most severe form and the lack of necessary,  appropriate support for those suffering from it. 
This is something that  must change.   And that is why I tell my story; why I fight my painfully  debilitated body to type this out on a smartphone one difficult  sentence at a time and to make my appeal to governments, funders,  medical experts and others:   
Please put an end to the abandonment of  people with severe ME and give us all real reason to hope.”   By Emily  Collingridge 2010-2011
Thank YOU for taking the time to reading Emily's "Last Wish."
May you HEAR some of her heart thru her words and know that 
there are over 17 million people with this "Invisible Disease" that has 
now been ignored for 3 generations, and our Memorial list is Way TOO LONG.....
NOT ALL DISEASES "ARE VISIBLE," but that doesn't mean they are not REAL.
http://www.severeme.info/about-emily.html
http://www.blogistan.co.uk/blog/mt.php/2012/03/20/emily-rose-collingridge-1981-2012
 
  
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