May Update

Let’s see, what’s been going on in my life? Well, April was the best month I have had in about six months. I have been walking 1000 to 1500 steps a day instead of the 500 average in December. I have been out of bed for about 9 hours a day instead of the 5 that it was for so long. I’m still housebound, but I’ve been in the garden and tried driving myself to nearby appointments. Best of all, I’ve been upbeat. Just like that… I get some space from the crippling symptoms and my mood brightens and the future seems oh so hopeful.

I’ve been on Prednisone for three weeks now (my feeling better started about two or three weeks before, so I can’t credit Prednisone). As much as I don’t want to be on it, every doctor I see has encouraged me to give it a try for diagnostic purposes. It’s only 5mg, but it was still rough in the beginning. I wasn’t sleeping well and I was grouchy and hungry. Those side effects seem to have abated, but I have others that continue: more facial hair growth (which would be great if it were my eyebrows and eyelashes) (but it’s not), swollen, hot hands and feet and constipation. The latter is the biggest problem. I feel like my bowel is inflamed, swollen and stagnant, which is the opposite of what I would think steroids would do. On the plus side, my skin is much, much better (although I was warned about the Prednisone-withdrawal acne flares by my dermatologist) and my joints seem to be bothering me less in the night (specifically, my shoulders and hips. They still crack and pop constantly, but they’re not as sore).

I saw my first naturopath. Some of you, I’m sure, will roll your eyes and some of you will wonder WTF took me so long! I am in the best place possible to visit excellent NDs because Bastyr University is right up the road, but I’ve held out because my faith has always sat solidly with allopathic doctors and western medicine. But, now, I’ve lost all faith. I told her that, too. I told her I am conflicted: On the one hand, I applied, got in and intended to attend Bastyr. I have researched it and I know the training they give and the scope of treatments NDs employ… And, on the other hand, for reasons I cannot quite understand, I want some big machine to find the problem inside me and some specialist to prescribe a drug that will make it all better and I can go on living. I know better! I know that what happened to me was the perfect storm of genetics, upbringing, lifestyle choices, viral exposure, toxin burden, detox pathway blockage, immune system malfunction, nervous system blitz etc. I know that I need full-body, whole-life help, so I’m not sure why it took me 40 healthcare practitioners to finally see an ND.

Well, let me tell you, I left in tears of gratitude. I needed someone to replace the Good Doctor and now I have the Better Doctor. She spent 3 hours with me. What?! Who does that? She took my history from womb to present. She addressed everything. She had ideas to support my system from all angles: endocrine, digestion, liver, adrenals, nutrients, lymph, circulation and on and on. She said, “Email me any time and, if you are scared or freaking out about a symptom or side effect, call me.” Who does that? She said she wanted to come with me to my endocrinology follow-up to hear what the doctor had to say from the horse’s mouth. No cost. Who does THAT?!

She wants me to try some things that I would normally scoff at, such as castor oil over my liver and high-dose vitamin C, but, what I keep reminding myself is: a multi-vitamin gave you the worst side effects you’ve ever experienced . Your weird pressure-point-restore-circulation physical therapy is the only thing that has helped. So, I’m open to anything. She wants me to come in every week for hydrotherapy. I’m not sure what this involves yet. I’ll let you know.

The clinic gave me a huge discount on the visit and supplements because I have no income and it’s located about 5 minutes from my house, which means I can drive myself on good days. All in all, I’m excited. But, I have a history of being excited by first appointments and disappointed in the long run, so it’s a cautious optimism.

I finally managed to apply for disability. My “rehab counselor” (aka shrink) gave me the name of a lawyer and that’s all I needed because I couldn’t manage to get going on my own. I never spoke to the lawyer, only her assistant who told me what info they needed. I spent a few weeks creating a spreadsheet of all the doctors I have seen, clinic addresses, tests ordered, drugs prescribed and, when the phone appointment happened, she didn’t need anything else (thank god because talking is still so difficult). The hardest part was I got a letter from the lawyer saying they will submit the info, it will take 6 to 8 months for a decision. It will probably be denied and they will file an appeal and if I don’t hear from them for a year or two, don’t be alarmed. I knew this was the case, but it was demoralizing to see it in print. If I had managed to apply or find a lawyer when I left work two years ago (how the hell has it been two years?!? LIFE IS SLIPPING BY!), I’d already be at the appeal court date by now.

That’s about it for now. I’m very busy this month: a teeth cleaning, a new dentist for a new oral appliance for sleep apnea (and it all starts over from the beginning) and follow-ups with my GP, rheumatologist, nutritionist and dermatologist, plus the hydrotherapy and mental therapy appointments… Exhausting.

It’s chilly again here and one of my dogs broke his toe chasing squirrels, so we’re all stuck back in the house being lumps on logs. I did manage to make it to the cemetery on my mobility scooter on that last hot day (thank you, husband, for making that happen). It was glorious.

IMG_20140417_120903

0501141652_20140501185835902

IMG_20140501_172815

IMG_20140501_180842-1

Advertisements

January 1st, 2014

This day last year, I said 2012 was the worst year of my life. I also stated emphatically that 2013 would look very different. And it did. But not in a good way. In 2012, I was still working for 5 months of the year. I got to spend 11 days with my soul sister, E., when she visited from Dublin. I was able to run errands, go to the dog park, talk on the phone, and see friends for 9 months of 2012. Unfortunately, that all went away. Now, I can safely say 2013 was the worst year of my life.

The details are too difficult and depressing to describe or dwell on, but neither will I paint a silver lining around this dark life. It has been unspeakably difficult, what didn’t kill me did not make me stronger, and I’m not grateful for the lessons I have learned since being sick. I am a sadder, scared-er, weaker, lonelier person and I’d give anything to go back to the ignorance and energy of healthier days.

However, I am much more aware of things I used to take for granted and I am more thankful than I’ve ever been: For every bird, tree, and arc of sunshine. For every single dollar that I saved before the abrupt halt of income. For every time a snort of laughter escapes me; every day that my legs hold me; and every book, film, song that distracts me. For every time someone vents to me about their life or asks for my opinion or feels they can use my muscle-wasted shoulder to cry on. For every time someone braves the thin ice of chronic illness to ask what life is like for us or see how I am feeling or offer to help, knowing full well they risk breaking through to the deep despair beneath.

Most of all, I am thankful for my family. My father, mother, brothers, sister, in-laws, friends, husband and dogs. (Oh, husband and dogs! I am alive today because of you! And I fight for tomorrow because of you.) Each day that they are healthy brings me solace and I experience stark, unfettered joy at every festive Facebook photo of holiday parties, restaurant dinners and energy-filled activities. So, keep singing, fishing, working, exercising and traveling, everyone! And I will live vicariously… Just, please, promise me that you do it with an eyes-wide-open acknowledgement of how short and fragile our journey is on this earth.

Here is my 2013 wrap up:

January: Was sorely disappointed at the Chronic Fatigue Clinic; saw first private doctor, tried cranio-sacral therapy.
February: Not much except stool and saliva tests.
March: Was sorely disappointed at second rheumatologist visit; saw second sleep doctor; had the 4 best days between September, 2012 and now; Zyrtec trial.
April: Got teeth cleaned; started seeing wonderful physical therapist; started the awful process of getting an oral appliance for sleep apnea which still hasn’t happened, almost 9 months later; Seriphos trial; started Chinese herbs.
May: New nephew R. was born; saw dermatologist; phophatidylserine trial; Nasonex trial; tried Tizanidine; turned 40; dear friend E.S. died far too young.
June: My mother and D. visited; saw cardiologist; tried valarian; started Unisom; Gabapentin trial; added rice back to my diet.
July: My father visited; stopped weekly therapy; stopped phone calls for the most part; stopped Chinese herbs.
August: Stopped eating soy, citrus; added lentils, garbanzo beans; tried Trazodone; stopped all vitamins and supplements; J. and Z. gave me a scooter: my ticket to some freedom.
September: My mother and brother, T. visited; abdominal pain started; husband’s family visited; celebrated 15th anniversary.
October: Brother A. visited; saw ENT doctor; saw “environmental” doctor; saw neurologist; had bad reaction to Unisom; tried Xanax; Zetonna trial; had hellish 2-week repercussions to autonomic testing.
November: Tried low-histamine diet for 5 weeks; methylation pathway, mycotoxin and adrenal tests; started vitamins again and Metagenics shakes; tried iv fluids and caused anaphylactoid reaction; another zyrtec trial; saw allergist; steps per day decreased below 700 and haven’t come back up.
December: New nephew G. was born; Christmas with sister; saw ophthalmologist; started juicing; tried Ativan.

Like last year, there were births, deaths, doctors, drugs, symptoms, setbacks and disappointments. And, like last year, what I see when I look at this is how lucky I am to have family that would travel across the city, country or ocean to visit me in my home and offer love and support, without judgement.

Happy new year to you all. 2014, please look different than 2013 ~ only in a good way.

Hubby sweeping in the new year, a family tradition. :)

Hubby sweeping in the new year, a family tradition. 🙂

Remember the little moments,

like this,

that were good.

Cheers.

~James Gandolfini in The Sopranos R.I.P.

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