Recently, I went and got my hair done by someone I have known for years from back home in the DMV area. Shout out to Gee Gee and her blessed hands. She had recently relocated from the DMV to Los Angeles, and before my appointment, I had already had one of those days.
You know the kind.
The kind where meetings seem never-ending and issues at the property keep piling up. The unhoused population requires immediate attention, the police end up involved, and by the end of the day, you are mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted.
By the time it was time for me to leave for my appointment, I was spent.
As I sit here writing this diary entry, “Who’s That Girl” by Eve featuring Alicia Keys keeps playing in my head. Ironically, I didn’t realize just how fitting that song would become until I looked at the photos from that day. Apparently, my brain once again selected the soundtrack for my life. 😂
Truthfully, there was a part of me that wanted to cancel, go home, crawl into bed, and call it a day.
In fact, I was fully prepared to begin my highly specialized recovery program: pajamas, snacks, and absolutely no people. 😂
But I pushed through.
Not just because my hair desperately needed attention—although let’s be honest, that was definitely part of it. 😂
I pushed through because I remembered what it felt like when I first moved to California. I remember questioning whether I had made the right decision, missing family and friends, and trying to find my footing in a place that felt both exciting and unfamiliar.
I wanted Gee Gee to see a familiar face. I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. I wanted her to feel supported as she pursued her dreams and built a new life here in Los Angeles.
So I showed up.
And I’m glad I did.
While Gee Gee worked her magic, we talked, laughed, and reminisced about home. It felt good to be in the company of someone who understood where I came from and who shared many of the same experiences and perspectives.
Honestly, just making it to the appointment felt like a victory. Anyone living with chronic illness knows that sometimes simply showing up is the accomplishment.
But what made the day even sweeter was that both of my ever-present companions—Crohn’s Disease and Myasthenia Gravis—had remained relatively quiet throughout the appointment.
I was especially grateful that MG’s best friend, Crohn’s, decided to remain silent because Lord knows neither of us needed any unexpected mishaps courtesy of her. 😂
Well… mostly quiet.
Myasthenia Gravis did briefly make an appearance in the form of the throat spasm and coughing episode that has become one of my body’s favorite ways of reminding me who’s really in charge.
Normally, that symptom is my warning sign that things may be headed downhill.
But not this time.
This time, MG simply popped in, said, “Hey girl, just checking in,” and sat back down. Apparently, she wanted to remind me that although she wasn’t center stage, she was still very much employed. 😂
Or so I thought.
After Gee Gee finished my hair, she took a few pictures and videos for social media. I didn’t think much about it at the time. In fact, I didn’t even see them until she posted them later.
When I finally looked at the photos, I almost didn’t recognize myself.
Not because of the beautiful hairstyle Gee Gee had blessed me with.
But because, unbeknownst to me, my companion MG had apparently been hard at work—and this time, her target was my facial muscles.
At every appointment, my neurologist asks if I have noticed any eye drooping or facial weakness.
Every single time, I answer, “No.”
And every single time, I genuinely believe that answer is true.
The reality is, I don’t take many pictures of myself. I am not one of God’s strongest selfie soldiers. Between work, chronic illness, family responsibilities, and simply trying to survive adulthood, documenting my face throughout the day has never exactly made my priority list. 😂
But those pictures told a different story.
For the first time, I could clearly see it.
As I analyzed the photos more deeply, I noticed subtle changes in my facial expressions that I had never paid attention to before. Features that had always felt familiar suddenly looked different. It wasn’t dramatic, and I probably would have missed it entirely had I not seen the pictures. But once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
You know how people say, “You can’t unring a bell?” Yeah. Same concept. Once I saw it, there was no putting that genie back in the bottle.
In that moment, I realized that some of the facial weakness my neurologist routinely asks about may have been present longer than I realized.
The changes were subtle—so subtle that I had completely missed them in my day-to-day life. But living with Myasthenia Gravis means symptoms can fluctuate and often develop so gradually that we adapt without even realizing it. What becomes our normal may actually be a symptom. Before we know it, we have adjusted to things we never imagined adjusting to.
And suddenly, the answer to my neurologist’s question changed.
Yes.
Yes, I am experiencing issues with my facial muscles.
It was an emotional realization.
Not because the changes made me feel less beautiful.
But because it served as yet another reminder that Myasthenia Gravis is always there—even on the days when I think she’s being quiet.
Apparently, she had been working behind the scenes all along.
Sneaky little heifer. 😂
Honestly, MG deserves an Academy Award because apparently she has been delivering an award-winning performance in the background for quite some time now. 😂
Still, if I learned anything from this experience, it’s that paying attention to our bodies sometimes requires us to truly see ourselves.
And sometimes, seeing ourselves isn’t easy.
But it is necessary.
Because awareness—whether it’s of our symptoms, our limitations, or our strengths—is one of the most powerful tools we have as people living with chronic illness.
Sometimes chronic illness changes us so gradually that it takes seeing ourselves through someone else’s lens to recognize what has been there all along.
Thank you, Gee Gee, not only for blessing my hair, but unknowingly helping me recognize something important about my health.
And to my neurologist: next appointment, my answer is changing. Apparently, the homework assignment was to take more selfies. 😂
Thank you for taking the time to read this entry from The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey. Whether you are walking your own journey, supporting someone else, or simply sharing space with me for a few moments, thank you for being here. Life can be complicated, messy, beautiful, and unpredictable, but none of us have to navigate it alone.
With gratitude,
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
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