September 26, 2018 by Elizabeth Milo

Long Overdue Update

I think it’s time to write an update. I haven’t wanted to neglect my blog — in fact, I wake up daily thinking about things I’d like to document and share — but I’ve somehow been very busy for what feels like years. My energy is still so limited and, with each incremental increase in functioning, I want to take some of the burden off my husband by cooking my own food, getting myself to appointments or taking care of our dog. It leaves no space for writing. I hesitate to say “no time for writing” because, even as a sick person — even as the person in question — I think, “you have nothing but time!” But I don’t, my window of functionality is still so small. There were months in the past when I worked 70 hours a week and I somehow still had the time to accomplish more than I do now — because my internal engine worked efficiently and my tank held much more gas and was easily refilled overnight. I can imagine my healthy friends reading this and wondering how someone with no job, no kids and no social engagements can possibly feel like they don’t have time to write an update. Maybe, if I manage to complete this blog post, it’ll be clearer.

These last few years, I have put great effort into trying to be an easier human to be around, trying to act like my old self for my husband and when I see people — you know, trying to be one of those “it’s great the way she stays positive and keeps fighting while dealing with such suffering” kind of people. But when you only post the good moments on Facebook and you draw from deep reserves while talking to people to appear perky and mildly engaging, it can cause… confusion, for lack of a better word. Even my closest friends and family obviously can’t see on the outside of me what I assume must be alarmingly salient and sometimes I get concerned that maybe, deep down, they think I’m just living the good life while my husband slogs away at his very physically-demanding job. They have made comments that make me think I’ve never done a good job of explaining this disease and, in fact, sometimes their loving and well-meaning encouragement sounds like they think I need the courage to get out into the world.

There are certain things that take courage in my life– they are all mast cell threats. It takes courage for me to go to places where there are no easily-accessible emergency rooms, like Vashon Island, where our friends live, or in an airplane. It takes courage to try a new medication, knowing I could have a reaction. My experiences with full-blown anaphylaxis and nocturnal mast cell meltdowns have made me fearful of a lot in life — not only of things I’ve reacted to, but typical triggers that have never caused me problems because I always wonder if they’re filling my “bucket” and the reaction is looming behind a blind bend in the road. For example, I may think I can eat just about anything and I love hot weather, but most mast cell patients can’t and don’t. So, maybe a few family members come over on the 4th of July and my period is due (“events” can cause reactions for me, as does menstruation). I’m basking in the sun and I’ve eaten a banana, some cheese, some chocolate that day (typical foods that cause reactions for others). Then the fireworks start and my dogs go into paroxysms of panic, which causes me distress (emotions can degranulate mast cells) and, just like that, the bucket overflows and my tongue swells up and I’m in for a very scary, sleepless night. I think it’s just from hormones and excitement, but maybe without the sunbathing or the chocolate, it wouldn’t have happened, who knows? I’ve been blindsided by this sort of thing too often and it seems, no matter how much time goes by, there will always be a tad bit of trepidation lurking in the back of my mind when navigating the minefield of mast cell degranulation.

So, some things do take courage, yes, but living, doing, experiencing, independence — all the things that ME/cfs took from me — they take no courage at all, they just need a functioning body. My greatest desire is to be traveling or socialising or hiking with my dog. If I was suddenly healed tomorrow, all of your phones would be ringing off their hooks and I’d be asking to crash on your couches as I hopped from Seattle to Oregon to California to Wisconsin to Tennessee to New York to Connecticut to Ireland to England to Germany and hugged you all close and talked your ears off for months on end. If anything, I need to be urged to pull back and conserve my energy because I am my own worst enemy, suffering payback on a daily basis from some reckless endeavor like cutting a thick-skinned squash or shaving my legs. Yesterday, I took Riley and my sister-in-law’s dog on a walk, using my mobility scooter. When I used to take Bowie out, it took very little strength and energy: He could be off-leash, I’d sit on the scooter and watch him eat grass or motor beside him as he ambled along. But these two pups are runners, pullers, criss-crossers and leash-tanglers. Not only did our hour walk sap the majority of my energy yesterday, today I am in pain from head to coccyx from using muscles that I usually don’t. But it brings me such joy, of course, so I’ll do it again.

For about four months this year — mid-April to mid-August — I was probably better than I’ve been since getting sick. But, when my Mum visited last March she said it was the sickest she’d ever seen me. It wasn’t — I think she has forgotten some of the horrors of the early years — but that illustrates just how changeable my health can be in a 6-month period. In general, if I keep my activity steady, I can predict how my days will go. That doesn’t mean I can control how severe my symptoms are, it just means that the worse I get, the less I do each day and vice versa and, if I’m careful, this will usually even out to a higher or lower baseline. In the beginning of my chronic illness, the freefall didn’t slow until I stopped working, then stopped going out of the house and eventually spent most of my time in bed. Slowly, slowly thereafter, my days became more predictable and then, even slower than that, my limits expanded, millimeter by millimeter.

Besides managing my activity, I think the only other thing that has contributed to my improvements are immunoglobulin infusions, which I’ve been doing for three years. But, like I said, I was much sicker last winter while still doing infusions, so you can always assume that those two steps forward will be followed by one step back. Just as long as there is a net profit at the end of the year, I’m content. Not happy or at peace, but I’ll take it.

Anyway, on to the actual update. But I’m wiped now, so to be continued…

March 23, 2016 by Elizabeth Milo

I can’t even.

I’m in a bad headspace. Feeling overwhelmed and hopeless, like I just need to give up. I know what sparked it. I got a bunch of blood tests done — things I haven’t had tested in 1 to 3 years — and they’re all still a mess. I’m still a mess. I haven’t made any headway in years. I just feel defeated. There are so many things my body is fighting and either I’m not helping or nothing I do helps. But mainly I feel useless and inept because I can’t manage to research something thoroughly, plan an attack and implement it. I can’t commit to anything because I have no faith that anything will work. So many pills. So much money. So much effort. So much information to process. So many competing theories. So much time scrambling in one place, getting nowhere. I do nothing but read how to help myself — hours everyday for years — and I just wind up feeling like I’m drowning more and more because there is too much.

I can’t seem to manage a methylation protocol, or a detox protocol, or brain retraining like everyone else can. Or a liver cleanse or lymph drainage or help my leaky gut or what about parasites? I can’t seem to manage any diet changes: watch out for histamine, salicylates, oxalates, sulphur, tyramine, too much/too little protein, too much/too little fiber, too many carbs, not the right kinds of fat, dairy, sugar, mycotoxins, pesticides, chlorine/lead/chloramine in water, your tupperware is plastic, your pots and pans are killing you… it never bloody ends! And why does everyone do so well with physical therapy, acupuncture, myofacial release, Bowenwork, craniosacral, reiki, feckin Feldenkrais and nothing seems to work for me? I’m thinking about NAET and muscle testing, frequency machines, homeopathy and EMF sensitivity because what if?? But I know they’re all just black holes. Everyone has a magic pill or a serious warning: Don’t sleep on foam! Don’t go in a hot tub! Your milk must be raw! Your dogs are killing you! Don’t stretch if you have EDS, don’t spend too much time lying down if you have dysautonomia, enemas are wiping out your good bacteria, you probably have Lyme–go on antibiotics, the longer you wait, the worse it is! You definitely have mold because you live in Seattle–leave your house and possessions behind and get clear! I’m so over all of it. There’s no point in giving me advice to just tackle one thing at a time because I can’t. It doesn’t work that way. Time is slipping by; I’m getting older just sitting in one spot. Everything is connected and as soon as I decide to do one thing, I read how that can tip another thing out of balance and I freeze… and wind up doing nothing. My brain does not work like it used to. This is most frustrating of all.

Imagine you’re suspended halfway up a cliff face, trying to get to the top. You’ve spent months researching the best path to take and you have some energy, you’re ready. As you start to climb, people abseil past you, screaming, “Don’t go that way! There are perils up ahead!”
Then others beside you say, “Nah, this is definitely the best way, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Then other people all around start chiming in and you listen–while clinging on to the crumbling rock for dear life–because so many have made this climb before you: “If you want to get to the top, go left.” So, you start researching that path.
“No, go right.” Better check out that option.
“It doesn’t matter which way you go if you don’t eat this meal first.” Oh shit, glad I didn’t start climbing yet.
“No, doesn’t matter what you eat or where you climb, you’re fucked if you’re not wearing the right gear.” Energy is draining out of you and the fear is creeping in.
“Don’t be silly, you just need to spend all day every day telling yourself you can get to the top and you will.”
“Nope, actually this mountain is insurmountable when you’re as weak as you are. Just hold on as long as you can and hope that you get stronger before your grip gives out.”
And… I literally can’t even.

Screenshot_2016-03-22-23-30-02-1-1

Anyway, I pretty much want to burn every book I own, cancel all my appointments, throw out all the supplements and extricate myself from every group and forum, go to bed and give up… and, if I’m truthful, it’s all sugar’s fault. I have a grade A, deep-seated, fully-in-denial addiction and my candida blood test came back twice as high as the high result from a year ago that I ignored. Or at least candida IgM did and that’s the antibody that shows active/acute infection, right? I don’t want to go on another elimination diet. I don’t want to deal with something that will apparently keep rearing its fungal head forevermore every time I eat some ice cream. I don’t want to take prescriptions for months and deal with die-off and herxing for weeks. I just don’t. Even my husband is clanging a warning bell about candida, gently encouraging me to just try to quit eating sugar temporarily and I’m like a petulant child. I hardly eat any compared to the old days! I’ve given up so much! And then I ate a bag of kettle corn while pouting. This is waaaaaaayyy harder than booze and cigarettes. Way harder than gluten, dairy, nuts or anything I’ve tried before.

So there’s that. And then there’s these:
Cholesterol and LDL are higher than they were 8 months ago.
CMV IgG, which has been negative 4 times in the past, is now high out of range.
HHV6 IgG is still high out of range.
Mycoplasma Pneumoniae IgG is higher than it was (out of range).
EBV IgG is much higher than it was (out of range).
Sex Horm Binding Glob and Estradiol are high, whatever that means.
Total IgA and one IgG subclass are low.
VItamin D and Vitamin B12 are both low.

I’ll be talking to my doctor about all this in a fortnight, stay tuned.

January 5, 2015 by Elizabeth Milo

Mast Cell Madness.

I’m officially terrified by my mast cells because Christmas heralded another sick, sick few days. Almost as sick as Thanksgiving, so I’d have to say the 2nd sickest night of my life. However, this time, it all started with my tongue swelling up, which gave me more insight into the mechanism behind it.

I sometimes wonder if all my health issues stem from mast cell activation syndrome. I can tell the difference between ME symptoms and mast cell reactions, but, still, there’s this little seed in my brain that says, what if they’re at the root of EVERYTHING and I should be spending my time finding a doctor with MCAD expertise on this side of the country (it doesn’t seem to exist in Seattle)? I don’t do this because I am generally stable. On a day-to-day basis, I’m not having reactions — unless, of course, many of my chronic symptoms have mast cell degranulation at their core and I just don’t realise it.

My health issues started with full-blown anaphylaxis, out of the blue, 9 days after my 28th birthday. Doctors were hopeless and gave no advice back then, not even daily preventative antihistamines. The common denominator was alcohol (but not every time I drank, so it was confusing), so, after the last trip to the emergency room in Dublin, where I almost died, I finally quit drinking and haven’t touched a drop in 13 years.

Before that, I had swelling in my eyes and hands and a severe edema episode once or twice that I didn’t really think much about. I linked it to Asian food, so stopped eating that and MSG and didn’t look any further into it. This was eventually diagnosed as autoimmune urticaria and angioedema and I was told to take Zyrtec, but didn’t want to medicate daily for an intermittent condition.

I’ve always had trouble with my periods — crippling dysmenorrhea — but they got progressively worse until I collapsed with syncope and shock 13 days after my 32nd birthday and was taken off in the ambulance. For 6 years, no doctor gave me any advice until, finally, an OBGYN told me to dump salt on my tongue. This doesn’t stop the collapses, but it certainly helps. These episodes continue to happen randomly to this day, always on the first day of my period and are, without a doubt, mast cell mediated, presumably low-grade anaphylaxis (very low blood pressure and pulse, bowel problems, syncope, shortness of breath).

I have a spot in my throat that has itched for years. It was actually the thing that lead to diagnosis of my toxic thyroid goiters and Grave’s Disease because I mentioned the itch to some random doctor who palpated my throat. I’ve now realised it signals reactivity in my body at a very low level. It’s almost always there, but, when it’s not or when it’s very bad, I pay attention.

I was flushing badly for years, thinking I had developed bizarre self-consciousness, but the self-consciousness was actually a result from flushing and having people point it out! When I was diagnosed with Grave’s, I thought it was a symptom of that, but it never went away after ablation.

Of course, in retrospect, there have always been issues I have dealt with, which may or may not originate with mast cells: thyroid problems and Raynaud’s can be a result of mast cell disorders. Also, constipation, headaches, low blood pressure, and temperature sensitivity (all of which got much worse in recent years). Finally, many of my ME symptoms could also be from MCAS: fatigue, joint and tissue pain, eye pain, vision problems, vertigo, episodes of low body temperature, scent/odour/chemical sensitivity, sinus problems, cognitive impairment, hair loss, decreased bone density (I have osteopenia, on the cusp of osteoporosis), shortness of breath, medication reactions, malabsorption, and tinnitus. See a list of signs and symptoms here.

It would be wonderful to be able to manage and control any of these issues, but none of them scares me like the nights I’ve had recently, not even full-blown anaphylaxis. I’ve tried so hard to figure out my triggers, but they are moving targets. Tongue swelling and angioedema are obvious, as is the very specific breathing difficulty you get with anaphylaxis (it is nothing like asthma or wheezing from an infection). I don’t get daily hives and itching like many people. My reactions now are all about the histamine bucket and completely dependent on where I am in my cycle and what is happening in my life. I may be able to eat anything one week and then suspect that those same foods are giving me sinus trouble, insomnia and a jaw ache a different week. My chronic daily headaches, tinnitus, brain fog and exhaustion could be from food choices, but I’ve never been able to pin down any causation. My diet is very low-histamine compared to normal people and how it used to be, but I still allow myself chocolate, coconut, store-bought chips, beef, almost all fruit, including dried and many things that others avoid. Could these things be contributing to my problems? Yes, but, without a definite correlation, I don’t want to eliminate foods. Once you’ve experienced anaphylaxis, “reactions” like a runny nose, constipation or aching hands are quite ignorable. The only thing that consistently caused a reaction was alcohol and my periods. And, now I can say with certainty, holidays and events, no matter how careful I am.

—————————–

I prepared for Christmas over the course of a month and a half, slowly bought presents and wrapped them, slowly wrote some Christmas cards, slowly got the spare room ready for my sister, slowly did laundry — over the course of weeks! Didn’t overexert myself at all. There was no excitement, no activities. My sister and her small dog came over, we watched tv and opened presents. I had rested multiple times throughout the day and the only not normal thing I ate was half a tiny piece of fresh King salmon, which had been brought in off the docks that same morning and, I was told, caught the day before.

My tongue started to swell up after dinner. By the late evening, I had gotten upset for really no good reason (which has historically happened with my mast cell reactions) and was flushing. I had a bad reaction to about 15mg of Benadryl a week or two prior, so I was scared to take a decent dose on this night. I bit a dye-free capsule and put a drop on my swollen tongue and went to bed. At 2am, I awoke with the same evil that I experienced on Thanksgiving and the night after starting Cromolyn (before going to the AirBnb rentals back in September — it was a few days before my period that time, too). I was shaking so badly, I couldn’t lift the water glass, I was drenched in sweat and had weird runaway chills coursing through my body. I crawled on my hands and knees to the bathroom, which scared the shit out of me because, through all the worst of ME, that’s only happened once before. I fell into harrowing nightmares and woke up gasping for breath over and over, feeling poisoned and infected. I dreamt that I was sick and dying and my husband wasn’t paying attention or taking it seriously. I dreamt that I was sick and dying and my mother laughed at me (this isn’t remotely based in truth, this is my terrified mind not knowing how or where to get help). I dreamt that my dog’s neck was broken and I was carrying him to get help, but I was sick and dying and couldn’t do it. And, finally, I dreamt that I was lying on the floor begging my husband over and over: “Please kill me. Please kill me. Please kill me.” I woke up sobbing and so wrung out.

That morning, my period came 5 days early. You better believe, if I had known my period was going to arrive Christmas Day, I might have cancelled Christmas. Or at least postponed present opening for a day. And definitely not eaten even the freshest salmon.

In the past, my anaphylaxis episodes went like this:
My friend A’s birthday party.
My friend C’s birthday party.
Oktoberfest.
Easter party.
C used to joke that I was allergic to fun. I can’t believe he was right. I collapsed and had the paramedics called twice while my mother was staying with us and, also, when my best friend was here from Ireland — both were “events”. I started to get paranoid that, psychologically, I was somehow causing my system to crash when there were visitors. But, every single one of these times, I had my period. There were only a few anaphylactic episodes that I can remember when it wasn’t the first day of my menstrual cycle. EVENT + MENSTRUATION = MAST CELL MELTDOWN. But I think I only really and truly started to believe this 100% on Christmas.

So, Christmas day is a total haze. I crawled downstairs a few times to eat and try to put on a good face, but I don’t remember much and dozed most of the day. Like Thanksgiving and September, however, I bounced back quicker than I could have ever anticipated. That night I kept marveling, “How am I speaking? How am I sitting up? How am I alive?” When it’s bad, you honestly want to die. When it ebbs, the human spirit kicks back in shockingly quickly and you just get on with it, until the next time when you are surprised anew at just how bad the bad is. I didn’t even really modify my diet. I continued to eat my almond butter, coconut ice cream and drink bone broth and tea (all high-ish histamine). If anything, I felt more, Oh fuck it, how much worse could it be? At this stage, I’m much more scared of menstruation and engaging in any sort of event — even one in my house, in my pajamas, with only a single guest.

I am currently putting together an informational kit (in a bag that was donated to me by a member of one of my groups), so my husband has something to grab in the event of an emergency. My dilemma is that I’ve managed to avoid drugs all this time (never had to use my EpiPen), so I have no way to premedicate for things like plane flights, dental work or necessary procedures like a CT scan or colonoscopy (which my doctor has wanted me to get for years, but I refuse because I’m worried about reactions). I have no safe protocol. 13 years ago, I got IV diphenhydromine for anaphylaxis, now I react to 15mg of Benadryl! 5 years ago, I had IV morphine for dysmennorhea, now my breathing shuts down with a crumb of hydrocodone or codeine. What would happen in a real emergency? If I need surgery? Knock on wood, toba toba, ptooey, ptooey. Once I have everything compiled, I will post it here.

Having said all that, I’m really in quite a good place, feeling happy and hopeful about the new year. Maybe because I realise that these reactions are mast cell degranulations and not ME relapses and that takes some of the fear away. Somehow dying from anaphylaxis is less scary than becoming permanently bedbound with ME. Perhaps only people with both illnesses will understand that. So, here’s what I did New Year’s Eve:

As well as resilience, forgiveness, positivity and optimism, I’d also like to request that 2015 doles out truckloads of health, wealth and happiness to all of us. That’s all. That’s not too much to ask, right? 🙂

November 25, 2014 by Elizabeth Milo

November Update

[Written Sunday morning:] Every morning I get up and vow to write some of the things crawling around my head and gnawing at my brain and then every day disappears into other things: cooking, feeling like crap, interacting with friends in my facebook group, reading, researching, tv… Today, I’m sequestered in one room while the cleaning lady tackles the rest of the house and I want to do a wee catch up.

Two months after the horrific Cromolyn-induced crash, I’m feeling much better. Not as good as I was beforehand, but so much better than I anticipated I would. If it takes 3 or 4 months to get back to where I was, that will be great–much better than the years I thought it would take (or the never I feared might happen). When I got home from the AirBnB rentals, my husband had cleaned out my bedroom: no furniture besides the bed and bedside table, no more clothes or books, everything hoovered and wiped down with ammonia. He put a vapor barrier up at the top of the stairs–one of those plastic doorways used in construction sites or the house in the film E.T.–and the upstairs is strictly a dog-free zone. Oh, it breaks my heart not to be able to snuggle with my kids and it crushes me when they hear me moving around and whine at the gate we have across the stairs. Another downside is, I’m doing far fewer preemptive rests and meditations because I don’t want to leave them and go upstairs. It used to be our routine to head upstairs a few times a day and lie down. My Little Guy had the times programmed in his brain and would bark to come in from outside and look at me like, “Let’s go, Mama! You need to meditate.” That doesn’t happen anymore and my brain and body are feeling the effects. However, I will begrudgingly admit that it is really reassuring to know that I am spending 12 to 15 hours a day in minimal dander and dog hair. I wake up feeling cleaner internally. That has got to help my poor struggling body, so I’m very grateful for all the hard work my husband put into dedogifying the upstairs.

What it used to be like:

What I see now from the top of the stairs:

I haven’t been sleeping very well. Much better than when I was horribly sick, of course, but not as well as I was in the last two rentals. My sleep in that last rental was amazing– I would close my eyes at 11pm and open them at 7am. A few nights that I was there, I woke up after 8am! Never, ever, ever have I slept straight through for over 8 hours without waking up from crazy dreams or painful bones and muscles. It was glorious… besides the fact that I felt poisoned by the new Ikea wardrobes. I wonder if the off-gassing from the new furniture was somehow drugging me into a stupour? Also part of the problem is my apnea devices. I continue to avoid the CPAP because it wakes me up constantly, but the new oral appliance has its own issues. I got the Narval by Resmed, made by a 3D printer.

The white one is the bendy, light Narval. The pink one is the heavy, rigid nightmare I was trying to use before.

It is incredibly thin and light and bendy, which is everything I wanted and I’m able to fall asleep while wearing it… BUT. … I have worse TMJ issues than I realised and it causes so much pain. Every day, my jaw hurts, my temples ache, my head hurts and then, about once a week, I have a really rough, tense grinding night and I wake up feeling like my jaw is dislocated. It is painful to move and chew and clicks alarmingly. This can’t be good. So, I keep sleeping with no oral appliance or CPAP and I can definitely feel the difference in how I feel in the morning–less rested, more pain, but my jaw in tact. So, what am I to do?

I’ve started seeing my “physical therapist” again. Aka Magic Fingers. He is so wonderful for me. After a 3-month hiatus, the day I returned happened to be the day after he finished a course on strain-counterstrain for the nervous system. The teacher of whatever magic he does flew out to Seattle from the East Coast and trained a group of 30 practitioners. He said, “I’m one of only 30 in the world that have been trained to do this and you are the number one person I want to work on because your nervous system is a mess.” I keep my appointments with him no matter what. I even went last week when he was getting over a cold.

Speaking of colds, it has been 3 years and 19 weeks since I last had a cold. I’m amazed by that. I still live in fear of the day I catch a cold, especially since Dr. Chia said one virus could wipe me out and set back my recovery significantly, if not permanently. You may remember that he recommended I get IVIG to bolster my immune system and protect myself from all you sickies out there. Well, my MD referred me to University of Washington Immunology and they turned me down because my total IgG wasn’t low enough. So, I talked to my ND, Dr. W, and their clinic isn’t licensed to do it. On a whim, I went to see another ND, Dr. I, at a different clinic–mainly because they take insurance and I wanted to have a back-up doctor if I had to stop seeing Dr. W (who does not take insurance and, even with discounts for being unemployed, costs me too much money). The first thing Dr. I said when I came in was, “I think you need IgG.” Oh, bless her. There is hope for this treatment! But let me back up…

So, this new clinic requested all my test results in advance, they photocopied the entire binder and the doctor had reviewed it before I got there. They asked me to run my 23andMe results through MTHFRsupport.com and send them the results (so far, I’ve had 3 doctors tell me they know about methylation and nutrigenomics, but not a single one actually has addressed it. See some of my MTHFRsupport.com Genetic Variance Report here). The clinic has an IV infusion room, looking all dim and cozy, with plush recliners and blankets. They have a hyperbaric oxygen chamber! Something I have been curious about trying for over a year since I read Dr. Deckoff-Jones’s blog. And the clinic is 4 minutes from my house. Score. Dr. I ordered a load more tests and is willing to consider sub-cutaneous immunoglobulin first since I’m a scardy-cat about jumping right into IVIG (assuming we can get either of them approved by insurance, that is). A few days after our appointment, I went to the lab for a blood draw because she wanted to get updated tests and I see her again next week.

It’d be nice if they left some blood in my body.

Speaking of test results (which can all be found here), I never mentioned the hormone panel and blood test results ordered by Dr. W in the last few months [bold type is for my benefit, so I can access this info easily when I look back). My varicella zoster IgG, IgM and HSV IgM were all positive. All coxsackie A viruses were high and all coxsackie B except for 3 and 4 (although 4 was high in Dr. Chia’s tests). EBV IgG was high indicating a reactivated infection. My total IgG was even lower than when Dr. Chia tested and, as I mentioned before, my thyroid was tanked: TSH, T3 and T4 all low. But the hormone panel was slightly alarming: almost everything was low: DHEA, progesterone, testosterone, estrone, aldosterone, androsterone, pregnanediol, tetrahydrocortisol and on and on. Not sure how concerned I should be, but Dr. W put me on topical DHEA (about 5mg rubbed into my abdomen in the mornings) and supposedly that should help something. It’s been a month now and the only difference that I’ve noticed is my period was 3 weeks late after I started it. My period has pretty much been every 28-29 days for 25 years. I just descovered today that it has MSM in it, which I’m not meant to have because of my sulfur issue. I’ll ask her about it when I see her on Wednesday.

So here’s what I’m taking currently:
Topical DHEA
Probiotics
Riboflavin-5-phosphate
Trace Minerals
Vitamin C
Vitamin D3
Vitamin K2
Fish oil
1/3 of a capsule of B complex #6
Magnesium
Biotin sporadically
Zinc sporadically
Charcoal sporadically
Quercetin sporadically
Gentian/Wormwood sporadically

I also started oil pulling a few times a week (when I remember) against my better judgement, but my nutritionist thought I should give it a try, so, why not?

I try to use my dry skin brush about once a week.

I am in my third month of Restasis and my eyes are worse than ever. They are never not bothering me. Swollen, itchy, tingly, burning, blurry, gritty. Always.

I have a new pillow, which is a god-send for my bursitits in my shoulders, but I had to let it off-gas outside for over a month. It still slightly concerns me, so I emailed Dr. Bob and here’s what he said: “We do not use flame retardants or any other harmful chemicals. On the Amazon site you can see our product obtained the Oeko-Tex Standard 100 Certification. This is a difficult certification to receive and shows this testing lab certifies the pillow is free of harmful chemicals. Oeko is the best know lab and certification for products to be free of harmful chemicals.” Hmmm… well, this thing stinks and I hope it isn’t off-gassing into my brain.

I love love LOVE having short hair. Can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner. Hair is such a nightmare when you’re sick and the cut disguises all the hair loss in the front.

Grainy photo, but you get the gist.

What else?

I’m still on a modified AIP (autoimmune paleo) plus low-histamine-ish diet. I am not strict on AIP or low-histamine becasue I’m always trying to reintroduce foods back into my diet so I can have as many nutrients as possible and don’t develop even more sesntivities. I constantly warn everyone on my Facebook group not to take an elimination diet lightly and add back as many foods as possible as quickly as possible. It becomes a trap. Eating fewer foods causes a host of new issues (in my case, gastroparesis, worsening constipation and odd reactions that I never had before embarking on AIP). Also, the longer you don’t eat them, the harder they are to get back — both physically and mentally. Hence the reason I never eliminated ice cream, chocolate and packaged chips. God forbid I lose my unhealthy addictions. I need the soul food (although, I do really think one of these days I have to see if I feel better without sugar in my life. It’s just that it was easier to quit gluten, dairy, drinking alcohol and smoking than it seems to be to even contemplate eliminating sugar for a few weeks). One of these days I’ll write a post on what I eat on this diet, but, in the meantime, you can see photos on my Instagram account, if you’re interested (minus all the crap I eat–I’m trying to inspire people, after all, not cause them inflammation).

We ordered a free-range, organic, recently-harvested, fresh (not frozen) turkey for pick up today for Thanksgiving, but, to keep histamines low, we have to roast it right away (and then my husband freezes the leftover meat for me and makes bone broth from the carcass), so we are celebrating Thanksgiving today. We were going to have a get-together with our friends, Z and J, and my sister and her boyfriend (hence the cleaning lady), but it fell through, so the two of us are going to sit down to a 12-pound turkey alone. It’s ok. I’m thankful that I was feeling almost well enough to have some people over for the first time in 2.5 years. I’m thankful that I still have some people in my life to invite over. I’m thankful that I will have a yummy dinner and I don’t even mind that almost every meal I eat looks like Thanksgiving dinner and there really won’t be any different fun stuff. At least I’ll have turkey instead of chicken. And maybe the tryptophan will help me sleep!

Speaking of food, I’m starving and the cleaning lady is in the kitchen. I don’t want to get in her way or have to chat, so I’m trying to think of what else I can tell you all.

I made it to the freezing cold cemetery on the scooter for about 40 minutes a few weeks ago, wearing about 5 layers and carrying a hot water bottle. It was literally my first time spending some time outside in a month. The winter is hard that way. It really feels unhealthy to be trapped inside 24 hours a day. I have to make an effort to put on my coat and hat and go out into the garden. Please remind me!

We bought a proper comfy dog bed for the kids seeing as they are arthritic and bony (it was on sale, has no fire retardants and is returnable at any time, even if used). It’s the size of a small country. 110-pound Bowie is thrilled when he can actually lie in it and Little Guy doesn’t relegate him to the crappy small bed.

I found ants in my room one morning. They were running in droves all over the floor. It took days and days to kill them and there are still carcasses strewn about. It was pretty gross.

I’m still going to therapy. It’s been great recently. He’s very interested in cultural history as a jumping-off point and that is helpful for someone who mourns the loss of Ireland and regularly starts blubbering over how powerfully I miss it.

I have a lot of issues to work out there– An American by birth who never questioned that I was Irish, but wound up back in America and then felt rejected by the country I love… Marrying a man with an identical upbringing and thinking, “how perfect! We can relocate back home,” but it’s not home to him anymore… staying in America by default, year after year, but always wishing I was in Ireland and planning the eventual return… and then getting a disease that stops me from returning, so I have no choice, anyway. My therapist asked me if I’d be able to manage my illness better if I were living in Dublin and I said yes because my mother, aunt and best friend live there. And so does my heart. But it’s a difficult place to live and we’d have no money, so that’s not the answer.

Ok, I can’t avoid it any longer, I have to eat. And that was really dredging the bottle of the barrel for stuff to tell you about.

I’m thankful for all of you, too, dear readers. You have no idea. Love and thanks and nom nom nom gobble gobble to everyone this week. X

April 6, 2014 by Elizabeth Milo

Move over, Good Doctor, there’s a new team in town.

After a year and a half of regular visits, I have broken up with the Good Doctor. She was a lifeline when I first started seeing her ~ somebody who was willing to stick with me and give me diet and supplement help when every other doctor had only offered painkillers and antidepressants and sent me on my way. However, I have lost faith in her and, worse, now that I know more, I think she probably contributed to my fast decline. I started an incredible number of supplements at full dose, all at once when I had never even taken regular vitamins before and, within two weeks, I was housebound. I eliminated grains, dairy, legumes etc. at the same time. Never did it occur to me that I should start one thing at a time at a low dose and work up. Never did it occur to me that I could have a genetic mutation that prevented me from breaking down certain drugs and substances. Never did it occur to me that you could have “detox” symptoms when you radically change your diet. I had blind faith.

Most recently, I have had some abnormal test results and the Good Doctor has given me little to no guidance on what they mean and what treatments are available, She hasn’t even answered my emails in the last 5 weeks asking her to clarify what supplements she wants me to try (she was very hazy during the appointment). So, we’re done and I have a new set of practitioners to try out (you didn’t think I was going to relax the search, did you?).

There is a clinic very close to my house where I am now seeing a rheumatologist, a medical nutritionist and a therapist. I like them all so far… kind of. There’s never a perfect fit.

Dr. O, the rheumatologist is the most energetic person I have ever met. I thought I used to bounce off the walls and multitask, but he puts me to shame. It was quite impressive, but extraordinarily exhausting. When I got home, I sobbed from the overwhelmingness of the appointment. I was in the clinic for four hours. He listened to my entire history (and, subsequently, wrote an incredibly thorough and accurate 4-page summary, which he sent to me); he thumbed through my entire binder of test results; he did a brief physical exam (during which I was hit with extreme vertigo after he did a Vulcan-type maneuver on my neck and proclaimed that it was because of sensitivity of the Brachial Plexus Nerve Bundle); he did quick x-rays of my spine (nothing significant, which I find baffling); a Dexa bone scan (osteopenia is worse, but I’m not sure if it is technically osteoporosis yet); ultrasounds of my shoulders (bursitis and fluid in both shoulders which he wanted to inject with cortisone right there and then ~ I declined because, as I told him, it’s like treating a stubbed toe while I’m fighting for my life); and, finally, a blood draw and instructions for a urine collection for mast cell tests (n-methylhistamine, PG D2, PG F2 Alpha).

I’ve put all my test results on this page. All of the MCAD urine tests were normal, which I expected, but was still frustrating. I am happy to have baseline numbers, though, in case I ever experience anaphylaxis again (knock on wood, toba toba) or a severe reaction. I will ask him to put in a standing order for another urine collection so I can retest, if needed. His directions to me were to try Zyrtec/Zantac (the latter gave me terrible nausea and stomach pain, but I’m going to try it again in case it was an anomaly), take fish oil and try Prednisone. He said he “wouldn’t blink an eye” if I were on low-dose Prednisone (Prednisolone) for the next year. I’ve had that Rx in hand now for -shocker- 10 weeks and haven’t taken it yet. But I’m going to. This is the fourth doctor to recommend trying Prednisone and, although I refuse to be on steroids long-term (because they put adrenals to sleep, cause sleeplessness, increase glaucoma risk when I am already a glaucoma suspect, increase osteoporosis risk when I’m already almost there, shut down the immune system/increase infection risk, can cause weight gain/edema and blood sugar issues, AND must be carefully tapered off over months), I think I will trial them as a diagnostic tool and, also, to know what my body’s reaction will be in case I really need them at some stage in the future.

The blood tests (ANA, CRP, ACE, PTH, ANCA, magnesium, calcium, celiac) were all normal except for high Saccharomyces cerevisiae IgG antibodies, which are found in 60-70% of Crohn disease patients. I’m not sure what this means for me. A quick google of symptoms shows that I have all of them except diarrhea, which is the main indicator of inflammatory bowel disease, so I’m hoping it’s nothing serious. I really don’t want to have a colonoscopy.

I went back a few weeks later to see the medical nutrition therapist. Dr. O had quite proudly proclaimed that she was the only Bastyr-trained medical nutritionist in the country (which I find hard to believe, but maybe I just didn’t understand her exact qualifications). Reading her bio was emotional for me ~ she attended the same Master’s program at Bastyr University that I got into but didn’t attend. I worked my ass off to do all the science pre-reqs, paying for night classes with my tips, got in and accepted the place, but deferred a year to save money and, during that year, wound up climbing the restaurant corporation ladder. I never went to Bastyr and I can’t help doing the Choose Your Own Adventure replay in my head ~ what would have happened if I went down that path? Where would my life be if I had gotten my Master’s and wound up doing something like my nutritionist is doing? Helping people, not being chronically stressed-out and sleep deprived, working normal hours, doing something I’m passionate about: food for health…. Would I be sick? I don’t think I would be. I kind of know I wouldn’t be. Anyway, she tested for SIBO and it was negative, which, of course, I was kind of disappointed about, but I’m happy I don’t have to go on the threatened liquid diet.

Lastly, I started seeing a psychotherapist, whom I like so far. He actually calls himself a “rehab counselor”, which is more accurate because he is helping me with doctor, disability lawyer and health insurance broker referrals and trying to make sure I have a supportive team that I like. He has dealt with chronic illness patients a lot, and ME/CFS patients in particular, so he gets it and I feel comfortable being my blunt, cursing, cynical self.

I have a lot of new doctor visits on my calendar, so there will be more posts like this. I know many of you think I should stop wasting my energy, but, until I stop getting leads that I think I need to follow or can’t leave the house at all anymore, I will continue my search for answers.

I was about to write, “…until I lose my healthcare or run out of money…”, but, it turns out, the Affordable Care Act actually has worked in my case. I can’t be refused because I have these prior issues and Washington’s Apple plan is literally $0 if you have no income (but, I’m going to keep fighting to have an income, obviously). So, that it is some weight off my shoulders. Thank you, Obama. 🙂

Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart

E.M. AND M.E. AND M.C.A.S.

Tag Archives: histamine