WHEN a name was finally put to the mystifying condition which had left her bedridden and in intolerable pain for weeks, a sense of relief washed over Georgia Peirce.

A diagnosis was a promise — the assurance she would regain her strength, return to school and resume life as normal.

Her hopes were crushed as fast as the word ME had been uttered.

“When the doctor told me I had ME, it gave me a sense of relief because I felt I understood my illness,” said the 16-year-old from Oakhurst.

“Then they said they couldn’t do anything, there was no cure, and that’s when I panicked.”

In October 2012, Georgia was struck down with flu — or so it seemed.

Her condition soon deteriorated, leaving her unable to move and overcome by exhaustion on a scale she had never experienced before. Her body ached furiously.

From that moment on, her life was never the same again.

“Nobody knew what it was and I didn’t know what was going on,” explained Georgia.

“I missed school for a month or two and there were quite a few trips to A&E because of my stomach pain. I couldn’t eat; every time I ate I felt unbelievably sick.

“They took X-rays but basically said they didn’t know what was wrong.

“They told me to go home and rest. There was not one day where I wouldn’t cry.”

As the weeks turned into months, Georgia’s health continued to decline and yet no amount of blood testing could unearth any plausible reason for her condition.

Finally, suspecting she may be suffering from ME, also known as chronic fatigue syndrome, her GP ordered further tests.

She was diagnosed with severe ME in December, a condition that causes persistent fatigue.

In the worst cases it leaves sufferers with acute muscle and joint pain, restricted mobility and unable to carry out even minimal daily tasks.

It heralded the beginning of a frustrating battle with a disease with no evident cause or viable remedy.

“What they do to diagnose ME is run tests to exclude everything else it could be.

“I couldn’t believe an illness could make you feel so ill but you couldn’t do anything about it. You know what it is but you don’t know what to do to fight it.

“They said that it would get worse before it got better and it did.

“They said I would recover but they had no idea when. I got really depressed.

“I couldn’t brush my own teeth or wash my hair.

“I lost my independence. I couldn’t walk. My dignity was gone.

“I feel very dependent on my mother now for everything.

“People think it’s just tiredness but it’s more than that. I get pain in my joints and muscles. I can’t concentrate.

“After about 50 minutes my brain just goes to mush.”

Georgia was referred to the specialist chronic fatigue and ME paediatric service at the Royal National Hospital for Rheumatic Disease in Bath.

There she received advice about graded exercise therapy, to slowly build up strength and not over-exert herself.

But it would take another eight months of listlessness for Georgia to reach a stage in her illness where her energy levels were sufficient to even be kept in check.

Watching helplessly as their daughter slipped deeper into a lethargy beyond her control was more than her parents could bear.

“She was lying on the sofa not taking to anyone for about eight months,” said her mother, Jo, 46. “She was flat out permanently.

“The specialist we spoke to said it could have started as early as seven or eight years old.

“She used to get chronic stomach pain as a child. But doctors couldn’t find a cause, so they kept an eye on it.

“It’s been heartbreaking to see her like that.

“She was such a lively child and I could never keep up with her.

“It was like having a new baby again or having to take care of a very elderly relative.

“I had to take time off work because she couldn’t be on her own. It’s been so hard on her.”

Not only was she attempting to cope with a condition she had a limited grasp of but she had to contend with others’ disbelief.

“A lot of people don’t believe in ME,” said Georgia.

“They think that because they can’t find anything wrong with you it doesn’t exist.

“I doubted myself, until I saw the doctor in Bath. It just made me feel like it was in my head.”

In January 2013, the Isambard School pupil recuperated just enough to return to her studies and was assigned a tutor from the Great Western Hospital’s school service.

Along with her teacher, Lisa Macdonald, she had to adapt, ensure she did not over-exert herself and yet made the most of each lesson before her concentration inevitably slumped.

‘School’ gave her life a semblance of normality again.

“I loved school, mostly the social side of it, and being with my friends.

“It was very hard not being able to go anymore.

“The first time Lisa came it reassured me I was doing something about it and the company helped me.

“At the beginning I struggled with just 30 minutes and I was worried I would get behind.

“I’m still worried about it now. We went up to three sessions of an hour only recently.”

Georgia is now hoping to take her GCSE exams in maths and English.

Gradually regaining strength has filled Georgia, who always planned to become a vet, with hope.

And yet, she only rarely allows herself to be too optimistic about or project herself into the future. Her life as it stands is about achieving short-term milestones.

“You get those moments when you think you feel quite well and do a lot. But you regret it later. It just wipes you out for a week. I’m worried about the future. I think that I could be pushing myself to get better and then relapse, and have to go through it all over again and that terrifies me.

“But I have to tell myself I will get better eventually and that’s keeping me going. I take it day by day.

“There are a few things I want to do when I get better. I want to go to Alton Towers and go to my prom at Isambard. No matter how I feel, I’ll go to prom.”