An open letter by top ME/CFS doctors to HHS

I’m very, very sick with a reemergence of my original symptoms (drenching night sweats, chills, fever, headache, nausea), so I might be gone for a while.

Reposting from Quixotic: My M.E. Blog:

By now everyone in the ME/CFS community (in America anyway) is familiar with the controversy over the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) hiring an outside contractor to develop a new definition of ME/CFS. If you’ve somehow missed everything that’s occurred on this front in the past month, here’s the 50 peso version:

HHS announced that they were going to hire an outside contractor to, among other things, redefine ME/CFS and create diagnostic criteria. The leading candidate was a company called the Institute of Medicine (IOM). IOM had previously been hired to conduct similar work related to Gulf War Syndrome and, by most accounts, completely botched the job, leading to much frustration by GWS sufferers. Knowing this, the ME/CFS community launched a grass roots email campaign to stop the IOM contract. Not long after, HHS announced that they cancelled their plans to hire IOM. The ME/CFS community breathed a sigh of relief. Several days later, HHS reversed course and hired IOM anyway.

Now a group of leading ME/CFS doctors and researchers have published an open letter to the director of HHS imploring her to reconsider the entire project and, particularly, to adopt the Canadian Consensus Criteria (CCC) definition of ME/CFS. The letter is direct, forceful and is cosigned by all the big names. It will be interesting to see if HHS has the guts to ignore this (but history tells us they will).

The letter is republished here on ProHealth.

ANYONE CAN SIGN THE PETITION HERE. THERE ARE ONLY A FEW THOUSAND SIGNATURES, PLEASE SIGN AND SHARE!

In The Garden This Week

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Spinach and Kale and Chard, oh my!

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Harvest Moon out my window

The Summer of Spiders

The Summer of Spiders

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New fence…

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…courtesy of my husband.

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My Momma!

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Bee rock to go with the ladybug rock ~ from my nieces. šŸ™‚

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Beautiful Baby A. (Z. and J.’s little girl)

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Last of the Seattle Summer Sun

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AUTUMN!!

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imageMy very own SCOOTER! Stay tuned for a post on the exciting story of how this came into my possession. šŸ™‚

If there’s anything you need…

Sarah, at Dead Men Don’t Snore, always writes pointed insights into living with this disease and chronic illness, in general. Reblog:

Dead Men Don't Snore's avatarDead Men Don't Snore

One of the most common responses when someone is sick or bereaved isĀ ā€œif there’s anything you need, just let me knowā€. Well-intentioned as these words may be, it is unlikely the person will let you know what it is that they need for three simple reasons.

1. It is difficult to distinguish genuine offers of help from simple politeness.

When I first became ill, friends, relatives, doctors, colleagues and virtual strangers would pat my armĀ and sayĀ ā€˜if there’s anything you need…’ but it was rarely possible to tell who really meant those words and who proffered them as meaningless platitudes when they didn’t know what else to say.

On several occasions I plucked up the courage to ask for help only to realise the friend in question had never really expected to be held to their offer. Once asked for help, they would feel obliged to deliver, but would often do…

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30 Things About My Invisible Illness You May Not Know

Well, I’m a few days late (and more than a few dollars short). I’ve been working on this post for a week while not feeling well, but I’m determined to finish.Ā Invisible Illness Awareness Week was last week and, in an effort to raise awareness, invisibleillnessweek.comĀ has put together theĀ ā€œ30 Things About My Illnessā€ questionnaire below. The websiteĀ offers support to patients and caregivers through articles, podcasts, illness lists and links to associations and resources. You should check it out!

30 THINGS ABOUT MY ILLNESS:

1. The illness I live with is:

Myalgic Encephalomyelitis. I have other conditions, such as mast cell activation disorder, thyroid disease, dysautonomia, hypoglycemia, IBS, dysmenorrhea, and chronic intractable migraines but these are speed bumps in relation to the Mount Everest that is ME. Undoubtedly, all these problems are connected in some way.

2. I was diagnosed with it in the year:

I was diagnosed about one year ago.

3. But I had symptoms since:

ME hit me one night like a freight train around 11pm on Halloween night, 2011. One hour I was fine, the next hour I was in the grips of what I thought was a very bad virus. Chills and drenching sweats lasted all night and… the rest is history.

Years before that, I had dealt with thyroid goiters, anaphylaxis and vasovagal syncope, but they were just blips in my otherwise healthy, normal life. ME changed that.

4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is:

I could say losing my career, my social life, traveling, my income, the future I envisioned… But, really, the hardest adjustment has been a life with minimal energy expenditure: the loss of walking, running, talking exuberantly, emoting, gesticulating… I hate this still life.

5. Most people assume:

Most people assume I’m being antisocial. Most people assume that I worked too much, hit a wall and walked away and am just uncommunicative. Only my family and closest few friends know the extent of what happened to me.

6. The hardest part about mornings are:

The distressing, sinking realisation that I’ve woken up too early (and won’t go back to sleep) and had a bad night. Feeling dizzy before I’ve even opened my eyes. Being greeted with a headache and neck pain before I’ve even sat up.

7. My favorite medical TV show is:

House!! And any real life medical show like Trauma: Life in the ER. I’ve loved that stuff my whole life. They used to show real operations, graphic and unedited, on some show in Ireland when I was young and I loved watching. I’m not squeamish; I always thought I’d be working in an ER.

8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is:

My smart phone. It’s my lightweight connection to the rest of the world: news, blogs, emails, texts, photos, videos and calls. Plus, it has all my meditation CDs on it.

9. The hardest part about nights are:

For the first year I was sick, nights were lonely, terrifying, desperate, viral horror shows. There are not adequate words to describe what my nights were like. Now, the hardest part is the fear that I will not sleep well and will wake the next morning feeling worse.

10. Each day I take __ pills & vitamins.

I usually take about 26 supplements a day (double that for the number of actual pills). Currently, I’m on a vitamin and supplement hiatus, so I am only taking probiotics, magnesium, melatonin, Zyrtec, nasal spray, topical antibiotic cream, and a few times a week, when I have a headache or can’t sleep, I take Tylenol, Unisom, and Tizanidine.

11. Regarding alternative treatments I:

I have tried most of it: acupuncture, massage, craniosacral therapy, reiki, energy healers, meditation, breathing exercises, diet, stretches, Chinese herbs, supplements blah blah blagh. I don’t know what constitutes “alternative”, but I would doĀ anything to get better.

12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose:

I have a half-written blog post called “Visible Illness” because I look sick ~ or, at least, I look different than I used to ~ and I have caught myself feeling jealous of the “healthy”-looking ME patients I have seen online. However, my illness is invisible in the sense that nobody can see just how bad it is by looking at me ~ especially during the first year, when I pushed through everything to go to work.

Which would I prefer? Neither. Illness is evil and, ultimately, nobody can ever comprehend a sick person’s suffering, regardless of how bad they look on the outside.

13. Regarding working and career:

I never stop dreaming about my next career. I have a different idea every day. I miss working, I miss having responsibility and helping people, I miss being good at something, I miss having the security of an income.

14. People would be surprised to know:

Those that haven’t seen me in a while would be surprised to see that I have gone from an energetic, talkative, happy, demonstrative, busy person to someone who moves very little and doesn’t leave the house. Those close to me might be surprised to know just how black my blackness was this past year and how often I thought about suicide (it took all my guts to write that word. It’s shameful and scary, but true).

15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been:

That I can’t exert energy. That’s it. It rules all else. I can’t find a new job, I can’t make plans for a different life than the one I had imagined, I can’t socialise or cook food or deal with banks or disability or do anything to adapt and move on. I only feel ok if I am flat on my back, not moving. But I keep trying to make progress and those endeavors always cause me to be in pain. And I’m intolerant to painkillers. So it’s a continual try-to-gain-ground-get-knocked-down cycle.

16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was:

Admit it – admit I was a sick person. Also, there was a time when I wondered if I’d ever laugh again. When the headaches ease up, laughter returns. It’s glorious.

17. The commercials about my illness:

There are none, but there are commercials about fibromyalgia and, of course, they show women able to move freely if they take Lyrica. Imagine the only symptom being achiness! Imagine a pill taking care of it! Sign me up!

18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is:

See this post. Dancing with my dogs on the beach, eating whatever I want, staying up late, talking nonstop, getting excited, getting angry, having a career, dreaming up future plans, driving myself places, traveling, having financial security… See the recurring theme?

19. It was really hard to have to give up:

I want to say everything in #18, but I’ll change it up and say getting dressed and feeling pretty. I miss a great pair of jeans and make-me-feel-tall boots and thinking my eyes look bright and generally feeling attractive.

20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is:

Meditation. I couldn’t live without it now.

21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would:

Only one day? So not enough time to go to Europe? Can I plan this day in advance and get my loved ones to come to me? Ok, I’ll assume that’s a yes. Then I would get everyone I love to Seattle in advance and on The Day we would hike, talk, laugh, play games, eat a lot, get rip-roaring drunk, never have to rest and then sleep soundly, deeply, peacefully ~ without a cpap and with my husband and dogs.

22. My illness has taught me:

How under-equipped society is to help the disabled, sick and elderly. It is astounding and harrowing to realise how difficult and time-consuming it is to drive, park, get to a doctor’s office, get home help, get financial help ~ everything! And, when you’re sick, everything costs more, so what happens when you can’t work? I worry about old age all the time.

23. One thing people say that gets under my skin is:

When people say nothing. When friends don’t want to “burden” me with their own problems or don’t contact me because they don’t want to “impose” or don’t text me because I haven’t responded in days/weeks and they think the ball’s in my court or that they don’t want to keep “bothering” me. It is incredibly comforting when someone asks questions about my illness or vents to me about their hardships or gossips about work or continues to let me know they are thinking about me. Once in a while, I would love my husband (and family) to take a break from being the strong caregiver and wallow in a bit of mutual mourning: “This is so fucking unfair! We had dreams and plans! We had only just stopped living paycheck to paycheck! You were so alive and I am turned inside out to see your life force disappearing…” Maybe it’s selfish, but, someone else screaming at the sky would make me feel a little less alone.

24. But I love it when people:

Remind me that, even in this diminished capacity, I am still vital and worthy of being a friend.

25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is:

“As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

Also, my mother once told me she had read that if you have one pain-free day, there is the possibility of being permanently pain-free. I think about this all the time on days like today:Ā Just because I’m having a bad day today, it doesn’t mean I will always have bad days. There will be days again without headaches. There will be days when I can move more freely.

26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them:

You will improve. That was the first line of an email someone wrote to me and I didn’t read any further, I just closed the computer and wept. I needed to know that life could and would be bearable one day.

Also, I caution anyone recently diagnosed to not read all the horror stories about ME. It is good to raise awareness about the severity of this disease, Ā but, after doing tireless research for months, my fear drowned out what my body was whispering. Stop pushing yourself, rest, listen to your body and believe you will improve.Ā 

27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is:

How many of us there are ~ in every country, of every age, ethnicity and socioeconomic standing. I am amazed and grateful for how many of us are online, sharing advice and giving support to each other. Sometimes, you lot are all that gets me through.

28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was:

Not leave me. My husband, family and a few friends have wrapped themselves around me ~ physically and virtually ~ and given me the security that I have SWAT team back-up in this war.

29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because:

I’m quoting Linds: “I think it’s a great way to bring much needed awareness to the struggles others endure. The illness is invisible, not the person.”

30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel:

Honoured. Or honored, depending on where you learned to spell. šŸ™‚

Also check out my other blamily members’ answers to this questionnaire: Jess, Marie, Christine, Luminescence, Trisha… Who have I missed? Let me know if you posted this questionnaire to your blog and I will link it here.

We shan’t be getting the ultrasound, shan’t we?

Doctor: So, how did you find us?
EM: Oh, I just asked if there was any doctor in any Polyclinic with an opening today. Honestly, the only reason I’m here is because it is Friday and I didn’t want it to get worse and wind up in the emergency room over the weekend. If it were any other day of the week, I would have waited and watched.
Doc: Ok. It might be your gallbladder, it might be something else. Do you have pain when urinating?
EM: No.
Doc: Do you have pain in your back?
EM: Yes, but nothing new.
Doc: Have you had nausea or vomited?
EM: No.
Doc: Have you had a fever or chills?
EM: I was terribly chilled yesterday, but that’s not uncommon for me.
Doc: Do you want some medicine for the cramping?
EM: No, I would have to be very scared to take a new drug.
Doc: I suppose you want an ultrasound?
EM: Yes and no. Could you order an ultrasound and, if the pain gets worse, I can get it tomorrow? But, if it diminishes, I won’t.
Doc: Yes, that is fine.

Then, as she was getting ready to leave the room, my abdomen twinged and I grimaced and sucked air between my teeth. She looked at me with concern.
Doc: Are you sure you don’t want medicine or to get the ultrasound today?
EM: Yes, this is nothing. This is a 2 out of 10. Maybe a 3. Yesterday it was a 6 or 7. I’m hoping it’ll just go away.
Doc: You’re crazy. [She actually said that!]
EM: Well, my body certainly is.

So, that’s what I did. Doctor visits are so useless. I already knew it was a pretty futile trip andĀ she wouldn’t be able to tell anything without an ultrasound. It was just a means to an end ~ to get an ultrasound ordered. Wouldn’t it be handy if you could call a physician and answer all those questions over the phone so you didn’t have a wasted trip and wasted energy? I can get the ultrasound right by my house, but the only opening was in a clinic 15 minutes away. Still close, but I had to bathe and dress and walk and waste precious energy when I hadn’t slept.

Believe or not, my abdomen is still twinging today, three and a half days later. It feels like someone implanted an electrified golf ball into my side and every so often it comes to life, spinning and shooting sparks. I can feel it there ~ a foreign, swollen feeling ~ even when it’s not twinging. Absolutely bizarre. I am resolutely going forward with the notion that this is not going to be something I have to manage. Have you seen the website for helping gallstones with diet?! Imagine me slamming the laptop closed, running from the room, screming: I can’t eliminate any more food! Ahhhh! Honestly, the loss of sleep was the worst thing and I wouldn’t even call it pain today ~ just sensation. I’m dusting my hands of it and moving on. Fingers crossed it’s not the wrong decision.

Gratitude for the day goes to all my online friends who DIAGNOSED ME! I have no doubt that you were correct (my father, also, emailed that he thought it could be gallbladder or liver) and I learned something new about my body (that I wish I never knew, but now I can store that in the Medical Knowledge center of my brain, which has grown quite vast). Thank you, blamily, what would I do without you? šŸ™‚

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[Aside: I am a firm believer that “shan’t” should be spelled “sha’n’t” to be correct.]