Tatyanna's Hope

It lurks in the dark recesses of my mind, whispering to me. Taunting me with the promise of knowledge it knows I crave. I can see the name written in bold letters but I dare not say it aloud. I won't give in. Any satisfaction that can come of doing too much research at this point is not worth the weeks of anxiety that would surely follow. I'm not usually like this, but the stakes are different now. I've done a preliminary consult with dr.Google. My suspicions were confirmed. The syndome in question is progressive, a one-way ticket with only a modicum of hope that its onslought may be slowed. I feel weak, nauseauted, impotent. How does one even begin to fight a battle that cannot be won?