A year ago this month, we made the decision to walk away from seeking out a diagnosis for what had happened to our daughter. After eighteen doctors and four hospitals who kept reading each others’ notes and refusing to test or look with fresh eyes, we decided that the search for a reason and a name for all of this was pointless. It didn’t matter to us any longer what had happened. Giving it a name wouldn’t change it at this point, as we were 18 months past onset and past the prime time for all the possible treatments we could find. There was just no point to continuing to drag her and ourselves through it allPlease visit Backwards in High Heels to read the full post.