Addendum to last post… Plus, missing my brothers.

Medical professional addendum:

5. I forgot to mention another doctor I saw- a great dermatologist (I’ve seen a few in my life and she is the best and hardest to get in to see with appointments more than three months out). I had a few questions:

What are these scaly circles on my fingers and palms that move around (please don’t say they’re warts please don’t say they’re ringworm please don’t say they’re contagious please don’t say they’re VIRAL!)? Answer: A type of eczema. No big deal. Keep your hands moisturized.

What is up with acne in bizarre places like hairline and under my jaw? It’s very typical “female adult-onset acne”. Those are exactly the places we see it show up. It’s hormonal and most definitely from coming off the birth control pill. Use 1% clindamycin lotion indefinitely (that was her second choice since the Good Doc won’t let me take oral antibiotics).

What is this Braille skin? It’s a precursor to acne. No! These harmless-looking bumps? Yes.

Why do I have brand new vertical ridges on my fingernails and is there anything I can do about my hair falling out? I have patients take biotin for both of those issues: 5,000mcg/day.

As I was leaving, ME/CFS came up while I was talking to the dermatologist’s assistant. She said, “Oh, my brother has that.” I had never known anyone with this disease, so my eyes widened (I actually teared up a little).
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. It’s devastating.”
She said, “Yeah, he’s a dancer, so…”
“Oh no! So, he can’t dance. That’s horrible. Do you know how he’s handling it?”
She said, “I don’t really know. He’s pretty private.” And then, as if to explain her lack of knowledge, she added: “He’s my half-brother.”

I thought about what ME/CFS would be like if you were a career dancer. Just another level of horror. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I think I said something like, “This disease is very isolating. I hope he has support.” I wanted to leave her thinking about it. I hoped that she would call him, move mountains to help him. From earlier in the appointment, I knew she’d just returned from Hawaii and I wondered if her brother knew she had been vacationing and I wondered if he let himself wallow in grief and jealousy as I sometimes do.

My brothers recently went on a fishing trip with my father and I love to think about the three of them together, but I ache to have been there, too. Just in the same room… My brother, the pilot, had a layover in Dublin last week and had dinner with my aunt and cousins and drinks with my best friend, E., and her boyfriend… It was exciting for me. Almost like I was in Dublin with E. Almost like I was in Dublin with my brother. I grinned from ear to ear looking at the photo they sent, while gritting my teeth against tears of desire. To be with E. and M., to be with my brother, to be able to fly, to be in Dublin, to be able to have a drink… Layers upon layers of loss. My brother also just had a brand new baby boy and I wonder how old my new nephew will be before I meet him. I wonder if my nieces and nephews will remember me or will I be “sick Aunt Elizabeth” that they just hear about for years. I always miss my brothers, but it has been overwhelming lately and is compounded by the knowledge that my sister is moving away from here soon. The atmosphere and camaraderie when we are all together is something special. I’m not going to get into it now because I’m premenstrual and risk a total meltdown.

Gratitude for siblings. xoxoxoxox

Good Morning, Heartache

What happens when a healthy person has an air purifier in their bedroom that begins to rock ever-so-slightly in the night? What about when they have a bit of a leak from their cpap? What about when the temperature in the bedroom goes up to 75 degrees? What about when the dog stretches and his nails graze the wall? What about when a line of sunlight creeps under the black-out blinds? What about when someone dares to take a step two floors below their bedroom? Probably nothing. Probably, they keep sleeping soundly. If they wake, they probably go back to sleep fairly quickly. It probably doesn’t even register.

What happens when a person with M.E. experiences these things?

This:

Zeo graph from 1am-9am showing constant "wake" (top of graph).

Zeo graph from 1am-9am showing constant “wake” (top of graph).

 

What happens when a healthy person only gets 2 hours of broken sleep? They are very, very tired.

What happens when a person with M.E. experiences this?

Heart racing, difficulty breathing, muscle pain, extreme stiffness, dizziness, reemergence of migraine, very blurry vision, difficulty forming coherent sentences, loss of appetite, inability to get out of bed, panic. And that’s only in the beginning of the day.

 

Stop haunting me now
Can’t shake you, no how…
Good morning, heartache, sit down.

A few things I want to note:

First off, the photos from my garden are my effort to “notice the good things”, as my therapist encourages me to do (since I am all-consumed with the badness of ME). So, my blog might be:

…moan…bitch…whinge…
[garden-of-good-things intermission]
…whine…cry…wail…

My husband is a landscaper and has crafted an oasis here in the city. One silver lining from this illness: I have literally stopped to smell the roses (or lilies). In the past, I never took much notice of what he planted where or when. I was too busy working. Who has time to look at plants when there are P&Ls to pour through? Now, every time I take a gander through our garden, something new is happening. Since I am housebound, each new bloom or bud is breaking news. The lives of bugs and birds are my realty shows.

Also, yesterday I realised that there are ads on some of my posts (gasp!). This is WordPress’s way of paying their bills and is not my choice. I can have a “no-ad blog“, but it costs $30/year and I really don’t want to spend the money. However, please let me know if it is really bothersome to your reader experience and I will reconsider that decision. 🙂