Category Archives: My story

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LDN Day 12… Let’s talk about drugs, baby.

Last night I spent 10 hours in bed and got 7 1/2 hours of sleep. Not bad. My Zeo says I woke up 8 times in the night, which I hardly noticed – it was so much better than my usual 15 or 16 times. This is the longest stretch of over-7-hours-of-sleep-nights I’ve had in as long as I can remember. Ever? And I feel stronger. Is it the low-dose naltrexone? I am still skeptical. I started keeping my thyroid medication next to my bed, so when I wake at 6 or 7 or 8am, I take it and then tell myself I can go back to sleep for an hour. It has really helped. I have to take my thyroid hormones on an empty stomach and wait an hour before eating or taking other supplements, so it has always been the thing that gets me out of bed (when I’m not working).

Yesterday, was uneventful symptom-wise, which is wonderful. I did a bunch of housework and then relaxed. I was tired, but not exhausted. I had muscle aches, but nothing severe. My main concerns were: the painful tingling in my left thumb, my itchy, clogged ears, my neck pain, my mood, and my body’s complete lack of effective thermoregulation. That is nothing, believe me. There have been so many months when I would say, my main concern is not dying, so this is great. And I don’t want to jinx it by getting too excited. I still have ridiculous constipation and the breakout on my chest, but I’m sure these are transient problems that will go away once my body gets used to the diet change and pills.

Speaking of pills, I may as well give you the run-down on the prescription medications I have on top of the supplements. Bear in mind, most people with CFS / ME — or any of the other afflictions that cause muscle pain/ cramping, IBS issues, sleep issues, mood disorders etc. — are on many, many more drugs than I am. I have been told by multiple doctors to try steroids, anti-anxiety meds, anti-depressants, stronger pain killers, sleeping pills, muscle relaxers, anti-spasmodics, anti-convulsants… It goes on and on. I keep refusing. Not only do I have a sensitive system that seems to react to everything on the planet, I also have an addictive personality that cowers at the thought of any sort of withdrawal symptoms.

I take T3 and T4 for my thyroid, which doesn’t function anymore after I had radiation treatment to kill two toxic multinodular goiters a few years ago. I have an albuterol inhaler. I use prescription antihistamine eye drops and nasal spray every day because the optometrist said allergies were causing my gritty eyes and the ENT doc said allergies are causing my bothersome ears. I never had either of these symptoms before this year and I don’t really know if the Rxs are helping, but I keep using them. I have a prescription for an epipen (I’ve been in the emergency room five times for idiopathic anaphylaxis). I take a birth control pill continuously for my severe dysmenorrhea, which has landed me in the emergency room five OTHER times from vasovagal syncope. They call it fainting, I call it flatlining. Awful, terrifying experiences. I don’t need to be on the pill for birth control — it’s only so I don’t get a period and risk the collapse. I’ve had two periods in two years — when I was switching pill brands. Other than that, I take the low-dose naltrexone, of course, I use “Traumaplant” on my neck, curtesy of my Czech bff, and I always carry diphenhydramine and acetaminophen.

One of these days, I will post my back story (not a story about my back, but my history) and tell you about the doctors I’ve seen, the tests I’ve had done, and the horrors of what CFS / ME can be. But not yet… not yet.

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LDN Day 11… Thoughts on long-term illness.

Well, the Miralax didn’t work (called Movicol, I believe, in Ireland and the UK), so I took it again this morning. I’m pretty sure the constipation has nothing to do with the low-dose naltrexone. I think it’s from the radical change in my diet and all the supplement pills.

The good news is that yesterday was okay even after the activity of the day before. There were two bad spells: in the afternoon I was feeling very low, very lonely, very sorry for myself. Being home alone is very isolating when you feel like you can’t physically accomplish all the things you wished you could not work in order to do. Did that sentence make sense? I spent years wishing for an extended period of time off of work! I would do yoga and paint our rooms and read 100 books I’ve been meaning to read. I would have movie marathons all day, I would meet friends for lunch, learn to cook, learn Spanish, hike in the beautiful mountains with the dogs… I had to leave my job in May due to this evil illness and I haven’t done any of those things. I haven’t turned on the tv once during the day. I tried gentle yoga a few times before I realised the degree of my muscle atrophy and managed to injure myself repeatedly. I have met people for lunch a few times, but have always been laid up the next day, useless. I’m not sure where the days go, honestly. I used to work an average of 50 hours a week: during the slow months, 45 hours/week, during the busy months, I’ve worked 70+. Now, I am on the computer in the morning for a bit, I do laundry, I tidy up, I meditate, I try to get to the dog park and then it’s the evening. I don’t even talk to anyone on the phone because I don’t really want to talk about me and I don’t want them to ask. Yeah, yeah, same old, same old, how are YOU? The problem is, I don’t want them not to ask, either, because then I feel like I’ve been left to die. I know that’s morbid. It’s just interesting what I’m learning about myself through all of this.

The best I’ve felt in the past nine months was when my best friend came to visit from Ireland. She was a distraction and a counselor. She was full of energy and positivity. We talked about my situation, but so many other things, too. I guess I feel better when I’m not left alone with this spectre and I’m able to talk about different tactics going forward ~ in an analytical way, almost, as if it is obvious I am going to conquer this, I just have to find the right weapon. I expend a lot of energy trying not to lose hope and not be depressed and, yes, not be suicidal, so it’s nice to know that there are friends and family who understand, are sympathetic, but know that things will get better. Or pretend to. The first time I met the Good Doctor, she said, “Let me hold on to hope for you for a while. I know you will get better, so, if you lose all hope, just know that I am holding onto it for you.”

Anyway, yesterday there were two bad spells: the low, lonely moment in the afternoon and the flu in the evening. For about two hours, I was convinced once again that I was catching a cold: sore throat, headache, muscle aches, ear and nose issues. But nothing has changed this morning. I was in bed from 10pm to 10am, up repeatedly, crazy dreams, waking with my hands gripping the sheets in fists, jaw clamped down painfully… BUT, I managed to get 8 hours sleep during those 12 hours. That’s fantastic, I just have to learn to do that in less time.

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Day 5… Later. Feeling low.

I’ve been debating whether I should be honest on this blog about just how hopeless things can feel and how low I can get with this sickness. Part of me thinks I should keep it factual, try to report the facts, not make things sound so dire and depress those that might be reading. But, things often feel dire and, if I’m going to use these posts for the therapeutic purposes they’ve taken on, maybe I should be honest with my feelings.

So, honestly, I’m scared and feeling pretty hopeless – today. I know, from the last nine months, when my physical symptoms are better, my mood lightens immediately, so I’m trying to keep things in perspective. You will have a better day than today. Take one day at a time. You’ll live to a ripe old age. You will have a quality of life. It’s just difficult to stay positive. It’s virtually impossible. In the simplest description, I have had the flu for nine months. That’s not the half of it, obviously, but, it’s the best way to get across how it feels. Tonight I feel like shit. It’s the same thing I keep describing: I can’t breathe, every muscle is stiff and painful, I have a headache and feel weak, my throat is sore, I have chills, low grade fever and no appetite. I just want to get better. I just want ...to…feel…better. To feel strong. To feel stable. To feel pain free. To feel carefree. To not notice how I feel!

The truth is, I can’t do this for years and it feels selfish. Things could be so much worse. I could be much sicker or I could be much poorer or I could have no husband, friends or family. I could live in a different country, I could be in a war zone, I could have no access to healthcare, I could have no bed, no blankets. I could be much sicker. I have to find the strength to be grateful every day. We all do. So, in that spirit: I am grateful to be alive. As long as you are breathing, there is more right with you than wrong with you.

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Hello world!

August 19th, 2012

I don’t know if it was a good idea to start low dose naltrexone on the first day this year that I might describe myself as feeling good. But I did ~ I started it last night and this is going to be my daily diary of how it is working.

A little background: I am being treated  – or, rather, I am treating myself – for presumed Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME)/ Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS). I say “presumed” because the tests, diagnosis and treatment for this condition are a joke. Doctors aren’t educated about ME – even the “experts” – and they are extremely hesitant to discuss this diagnosis or order tests that might be “unneeded” in order to confirm this diagnosis. Because there is no definitive test to confirm ME, there is always a tiny seed of doubt that it might not be the answer. For me, that seed is very small. The symptoms fit too perfectly.

More to follow…