Tag Archives: mood

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General Update

I feel like it has been a while since I gave a proper update. This may be a bit disjointed as I hit the important points from the past few months.

  • 19 months sick. 1 year unemployed. 9 months on elimination diet. 8 months housebound.
  • The week before Easter, I had the best 4 days since becoming housebound. Starting April 1st, I went downhill and got no respite from the crash for over a month. Each day, I hoped for a new beginning. Each day felt as bad or worse than the day before. I was spending days in bed and, very quickly, my mood tanked. It is very hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when you get no relief day after day. I am usually quite good at articulating what I’m feeling ~ what is worse, what would help ~ but, there was a point in late April, where I was lying alone in my room and all I could think was. “Help me.” I didn’t know who to call or what I would say. I didn’t know if I could speak ~ I had been crying for days and was at a point of hopelessness that made me mute. I managed to text E. who gave me a little pep talk and made me feel less alone. That’s all anyone can do. Things started to ease up the second week of May. I’m not back to my normal crappy baseline yet (no walking around the garden, no stretches), but my body feels a bit better and my brain feels like I’m a different person: As usual, as soon as I get some space from the symptoms, I bounce right back to someone who can talk and laugh and see a future.
  • Which brings me to what caused that crash: I think I got so much worse because I stopped wearing the cpap. I really didn’t believe it was doing anything except annoying me. The mask was waking me at night, the necessity of washing all the cpap parts was exhausting, the tape over my mouth wasn’t doing my skin any favours… But, it finally dawned on me that I got worse about a week after I stopped using it. And then I started to feel better exactly one week after I started using it again. So, I’m a believer. I may be aware of the cpap mask waking me, but I am not aware of the apnea awakenings and those are the ones that are really affecting my health.
  • Which brings me to my sleep: I am still having a rough time. I intend on writing a post detailing all the information and tips I have gleaned from various sources on how to improve sleep without prescription drugs, so stay tuned for that. For now, suffice it to say I have tried EVERYTHING. As I have mentioned before, I am addicted to reading the New York Times on my phone in bed before I go to sleep ~ but I wear amber-lensed, blue light-blocking glasses after the sun goes down so I am supposedly protected from the way the screen affects my brain. Well, my birthday night, instead of reading the NY Times, I spent far too long looking at Facebook and answering all the wonderful happy birthday posts. I forgot to wear my amber glasses and wound up staying awake until 6am, tossing and turning.
Zeo graph: These lines should be SHORT when I'm sleeping. The "W" at the top means "Wake".

Zeo graph: These lines should be SHORT when I’m sleeping. The “W” at the top means “Wake”.

This is very unusual for me ~ I always fall asleep right away, it’s the waking up throughout the night that is my problem. So, for the last two nights, I made a strict rule of no phone or computer screen of any kind after 8pm and no tv after 9:30pm. My sleep was instantly better. Look at last night:

Proper sleep waves.

Proper sleep waves.

So, like the cpap, I believe I really underestimated what the phone or ipad light does to my brain. The room is black, but when I close my eyes I see lights, colours, moving lines, exploding stars. Basically, if I open my eyes it is darker than if I close my eyes. Someone on Phoenix Rising surmised that I was experiencing hypnagogia, stuck between wake and sleep. Either that or staring at my phone really, REALLY messes with my brain.

  • Which brings me to the supplements I am currently taking for sleep (and all the others, too, plus prescriptions). Here is my daily regimen:

2x Probiotic
2x tsp fiber
100mg Colace
Chinese Herbs (Lightning Pearls, currently 3/day)

2,000mg Acetyl L carnitine (1,000mg 2/day)
1,200mg Alpha Lipoic Acid (400mg 3/day)
4,000mg Borage Oil (960mg GLA) (2,000mg 2/day)
10,000iu Vitamin A
4,000iu Vitamin D3
2,000mg Fish oil (1,000mg EPA, 50mg DHA)
Vitamin B-complex (Thorne #12)
100mg CoQ10
400mg Magnesium glycinate
200mcg Selenium
400mg Riboflavin/B2
5,000mcg Biotin
15mg Zinc sometimes
500mg Vitamin C sometimes

Valerian sometimes
1mg Melatonin
100mg Phosphatidylserine
Tart cherry juice concentrate

5ml Zyrtec
Thyroid hormones (T3 and T4)
Pantanase nasal spray
Clindamycin topical lotion
Miralax as needed
Albuterol inhaler as needed

  • The magnesium (for muscles), melatonin (for sleep onset), valerian (for relaxation), tart cherry juice (for pain and melatonin) and phosphatidylserine (to decrease nighttime cortisol) are specifically for sleep (I tried the Seriphos ~which is phosphorylated serine~ for a few weeks, but it seemed to keep me awake. The Good Doctor switched me to the new one). The other new additions to my protocol are biotin (the dermatologist told me to take this for the vertical ridges in my fingernails and hair loss) and the Chinese herbs. I stopped these for a week while I was feeling really terrible and thought I might be getting a cold, but it never materalised, so I started them again, increasing the dose much more slowly than I had originally.
  • My diet is still the same (no gluten, grains, dairy, legumes, tomatoes, potatoes, or eggs), but I think I am going to add rice any day now… I’ve just been waiting until I have a more predictable day-to-day baseline so I don’t blame crippling muscle pain (which happened on the 17th for one day only from head to toe for no apparent reason) or the disappearance of sleep or an extreme headache on a rice cake.

I want to write about my recent doctor visits and some of the amazing presents I got for my birthday, but not today. Just know that I am flying high with all the love and generosity that was showered on me. I keep saying it, but one more time: I am one lucky lady. I have the most compassionate and caring family and friends imaginable. I thought I always knew that, but I am truly humbled today. NOTHING matters but loved ones! In the end, they’re all we have.

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Try something different. Surrender.

After over a month it occurred to me that maybe just maybe this downturn has been caused by the break from my cpap. I guess, if I’m honest with myself, I didn’t quite believe my apnea was a problem. I sleep through my brain “waking up” 49 times an hour, but I don’t sleep through the cpap mask waking me up 20 times a night, so my subjective view of my sleep is that it is worse when I wear my cpap. What I know for sure is, my symptoms wax and wane in direct relation to how well I sleep. Although I know my ME/CFS was caused by viruses and the flu shot taking advantage of an extremely stressed and depleted body, I sometimes wonder, if I’d slept well my whole life and known about the apnea sooner, could I have avoided this illness?

When I went downhill in April, I reversed any changes I had made in the weeks before: I went back to Now Foods vitamin B2 and alpha lipoic acid, since I had recently changed brands. I stopped the Seriphos supplement, I stopped the Chinese herbs, I stopped driving anywhere, I stopped walking and doing stretches, I stopped taking baths since they raised my heart rate so much. But nothing has been working. I have to try something different. Since my health insurance is taking its sweet time approving my apnea dental device (shocker), it’s going to take well over a month to have it made. Verdict: back to the cpap. Keep your fingers crossed that this makes a difference.

My other plan is to surrender to this new low. Somebody on an ME/CFS forum recently said, “We may have lost everything in our lives, but WE HAVEN’T LOST OUR LIVES.” It stayed with me. I’ve spent 1.5 years fighting, investigating, grieving, pleading, hoping, wailing, warring… Again, time to try something different.

I’m sorry to throw quotes at you, but this, too, has stuck with me for weeks and it is my current inspiration:

Very little grows on jagged rock.
Be ground.  Be crumbled.
So wild flowers will come up
Where you are.

You have been stony for too many years.
Try something different.  Surrender.

~ Rumi

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Fish or Get Out of the Boat

I’m not up for writing, honestly, but I want to track a few things from the last few weeks. The Monday before last I had a follow up with the Good Doctor after 9 weeks. Let me just tell you, I love this doctor. I wish she were an expert in M.E., but she is the closest ally I have in this fight and I feel so confident in her hands. At least that was my feeling leaving her office. Now, looking back, I can’t remember much of what we talked about or decided. I told her I was a different person than I was the last time I saw her (New Year’s Eve). I want to remember that because I feel like hell today and I need to know that there has been progress. On New Year’s Eve I was just starting to feel better after the very low low of December. On Christmas Eve, while the men were in the kitchen, I told my sister that if things didn’t change, I couldn’t imagine going on. I was in such extreme pain and stiffness, that it was difficult to go through the motions of life, let alone find joy in the moments. As I’ve mentioned before, the muscle and back pain were horrid, but the headaches, coupled with the EXTREME noise and light sensitivity, were the main culprits. Well, cut to this last appointment with the Good Doctor and I have had over two months with hardly any headaches and much less pain, overall. What changed? I don’t know. Here are my theories:

December 1st: started Berberine
December 4th: started drinking only filtered water
December 11th: started drinking tart cherry juice concentrate every night
December 17th: stopped the birth control pill
Late December: stopped taking pain killers
January 5th: started vitamin B2 and selenium
January 6th: started cooking (once in a while) with coconut oil

I started feeling a little better on December 26th, but pain continued to lift through January. Sleep was better, too. I have been putting my faith in the tart cherry juice, but, honestly, I think it has more to do with eliminating the pill and pain killers.

Unfortunately, my sleep started to go downhill again and continues to decline. I fall asleep without any problem, I stay in bed 10 to 12 hours, sometimes I don’t remember waking up at all (although, most nights I remember 12 to 15 awakenings), but I hardly ever have proper, calm sleep cycles. I I feel like I am going insane. I was so thrilled the last few weeks that, although my nights were tortured, my days were staying okay. Until this past weekend. Today, I am so tired. I ache all over. I am back to moving like the Tin Man. I don’t recognise myself in the mirror. I think, for the first time in my life, I look older than I am.

The Good Doc’s plan for me is to try valerian for sleep and then move on to Chinese herbs and/or an antidepressant. She is the only doctor I’ve ever seen that uses psychotropic drugs as a last resort. She said, “Cymbalta is great for depression, but you’re not depressed.” I’m not. I’m not sad or hopeless. My mood is actually pretty good (as long as the bad pain stays away). She said, “It can help with sleep, but can cause insomnia, too, and it has a host of side effects that might set you back. So, let’s eliminate all other options first.” Love.

She also said I can try adding legumes back into my diet. I’m going to wait until after my period to eliminate any confounding variables caused from PMS… but, I might not even add them back at all. I have been on this diet for so long, I feel like I should keep it consistent while I try the Chinese herbs and sleep drug.

That Monday I also saw the sleep clinic tech to get a new cpap mask. It’s the most impressively designed mask that I’ve come across yet (Respironics Wisp), but it makes no difference, I’m still awake hundreds of times each night (literally hundreds ~ the sleep study showed I was waking up 48 times an hour). Last Friday, I went to see the rheumatologist I saw a year ago (literally ~ the doc pointed out I was there on the same date in 2012). The first thing he said was, “Why are you here? Chronic fatigue syndrome is an infectious disease.” My brain was so fried, I honestly couldn’t come up with any reason why I was there. I couldn’t for the life of me think what a rheumatologist does. I had gone to acupuncture beforehand and the Master had done a session that was meant to make me very tired so I could sleep well that night. It didn’t help me sleep that night, but it certainly caused me to be half-comatose in the hours after the appointment ~ I was slurring my words driving from acupuncture to the hospital and, after melting for an hour in the waiting room, I was far from the articulate, cogent, well-informed patient I pride myself on being… And the rheumy was a fast talker ~ a New York native, I think, based on the accent ~ and I was the last appointment of the week, so all-in-all, it wasn’t going the way I had planned. I think I said something like, “I’m not sleeping and I think it’s the fibromyalgia-type constant awakenings and I wanted to talk to someone who knew something about this.” He told me about the sleep study that Dr. Moldofsky conducted many years ago (I’ve now heard about this study from every single doctor I’ve talked with about sleep. It must be on every medical school exam) and then he said, “Try amitriptyline. You have to try something. I have patients that would rather limp in pain their whole lives than have knee or hip surgery. That’s fine, but you narrow the horizons of your life.” I know that is exactly how I would be: limping is a certainty; surgery is an unknown and full of risks. The doctor said, “As my father used to say, [for days I’ve been trying to remember the adage he used: fish or get out of the boat, catch something or reel it in, cast or go ashore… something like this].” I replied, “My Dad would probably say, shit or get off the pot.” And that was the end of our appointment.

So, the week’s round-up: After three nights, valerian is making no difference and I’m seriously considering turning to amitriptyline or cymbalta. My period is four days late. My skin is like braille. I’m swollen, tired and achy. BUT, for a few weeks there, I thought I was definitely making progress and that has given me much renewed hope for the future. I can do this. I shall overcome. Plus, every day without a headache is a good day. Pure gratitude!

First colour in the garden. Spring fever. :)

First colour in the garden. Spring fever. 🙂

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Warrior Princess

I’m having a hard time writing lately because I think it must be really tedious for the audience to hear the same old things over and over. The one consistent thing about ME is its inconsistency. Do I really want to write about how hard it is one day and then how hopeful I am the next? I wouldn’t want to read a blog without any substance, info, insights… I’m beginning to wonder how people continue blogs for years. I guess that’s why writers start traditions like Gluten-Free Fridays and Movie Mondays ~ to keep readers’ interest, you need some other pearls of wisdom to augment the I managed to do laundry! and the I couldn’t get out of bed again posts.

But, this blog is also a way to track my symptoms for myself. I’ve gone back to read past posts numerous times to see how I was feeling, what my “voice” was like at a certain time. So, I apologise if this is less entertaining than many blogs out there and more a personal ticker tape of weekly mundanity. Or, indeed, simply a big downer. I keep reading other ME/CFS blogs that are positive and encouraging, strewn with great tips and witty anecdotes and I’m not sure how they do it. Even bedbound patients bare their souls so beautifully and manage, from the simplicity of their four walls, to make the most profound observations. My current observation is: this disease fucking sucks.

My mood is pretty good right now, though, and I’m much more hopeful than I’ve been since last summer. I’ve had three good days in a row. I’ve walked between 2,000 and 2,450 steps each of these days, which is unheard of. When I feel better, I motor around the house without even realising it. I go up and down stairs just to get an envelope rather than waiting until my husband gets home to help. I stand up (looking kind of like a pregnant lady, pushing myself up with the arm rests, jutting out different body parts to help hoist the weight of the rest of me upright) to let the dog out 17 times in one hour rather than ignoring him half the time (because he only wants to come back in again. Because it’s raining and cold. But there might be squirrels now. Oh, it’s cold. But there might be squirrels now. Are you doing anything fun inside? There might be squirrels now. Et cetera). 

let me in

My spine and neck and lower back are not screaming too badly. My head doesn’t hurt (comparatively). I don’t feel flu-ish(ish). My sleep is still awful and I’m working towards going to bed at 8:30pm to try to get one more hour before the inevitable 7am wake up… Always the pleading with the universe for just One. More. Hour. All in all, though, today I think once again, I can kick this. I will be one of the few.

But, last Saturday I was weeping on the couch, unable to do anything but ask my husband how I can go on. How do people do this? Why don’t I have a fighting spirit? I thought I was strong, I thought I could handle anything, I am the rock… But I can’t do this. Why am I the only one in the world with a chronic illness who isn’t brave enough to continue? When the symptoms are bad, I dissolve. My happy, energetic, sarcastic self disappears behind a shroud of bleakness. I never would have predicted that I would respond this way. I would have said that I have a high pain tolerance, high stress tolerance, emotional fortitude, and an insatiable desire to live life to its fullest. I would have said that I could weather whatever comes, fight tirelessly, and come out triumphantly wiser on the other end. After all, whatever I set my mind to, I accomplish ~ and accomplish well. I thought.

Sunday ~ the next day ~ was probably the worst day this year. There was no weeping because I was in too much pain. There was no wondering aloud why I couldn’t maintain positivity because I couldn’t move. My brain activity had retreated to survival mode: breathe, this moment, tomorrow’s a new beginning…

And it was. Monday was the first of my good days. From the worst to the best. Immediately, I thought, Oh, maybe I won’t have to tackle disability. Maybe I won’t need to beg the bank to reduce our mortgage payment. Maybe I can get a job and shake off the dust of this two-bit existence.

And so it continues. I will try not to depress you with my reality, but I will also not sugarcoat it. Today I’m in fighting shape ~ mentally, if not physically. I am not cut out for this life. I am meant to be standing on top of a barstool singing at the top of my lungs. I am meant to be racing up and down flights of stairs with my nieces and nephews looking for treasure hunt clues. I am meant to be gorging myself on decadent meals during long, chatty evenings with friends. I am meant to be working in a job I love, making a difference in the world. I am meant to be walking the streets of Dublin for hours and dancing on the beach with my dogs and falling apart with laughter with my siblings for one precious week each year.

I am grateful for every moment that I feel like the fierce warrior I thought I was… That I think I am… That I will be again.

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New Beginnings

68 weeks sick.
45 weeks gluten-free.
40 weeks unemployed.
26 weeks on autoimmune diet + supplements.
23 weeks housebound.

This is my update.

For those of you just joining us, six months ago, my doctor put me on a anti-inflammatory diet that is supposedly good for autoimmune conditions.

These are the rules:

  • No gluten (that is, no pasta, no muffins, no pizza)
  • No grains (that is, no gluten-free bread or baked products, no rice, no popcorn, no tortillas)
  • No dairy (that is, no yogurt, no ice cream, no cheese)
  • No legumes (that is, no peanut butter, no hummus, no beans)
  • No nightshades (that is, no red pasta sauce, no mashed spuds, no hot sauce)
  • No sugar (yeah, right)
  • Only lean meats and fish

I have been horrifically strict (as in, I won’t eat soup with corn starch in it or the soy yogurts made with rice starch). However, I have allowed myself oats (must have granola for breakfast) and, although I’ll stay away from, say, foie gras, I am eating beef. A lot. Sugar, also, is difficult. I’ve cut down drastically, but I still eat dark chocolate every day and sweeten my granola with honey.

I feel no different from this diet. Besides the fact that I have no joy in food anymore. In my other life, I would have had fun researching recipes and learning to cook with new and interesting ingredients, but I don’t have the energy. I couldn’t stand in the kitchen long enough to cook a meal. So we rely on a lot of salads, stews, roast chicken with veg etc. And I eat more nuts than anyone on the planet and buckets of fruit. Ick.

IMG_20130209_155627 (1)

My Food Shelf

The other day my husband had a long chat with one of his old friends. Afterwards, he said, “I caught him up on how you are doing.” I scoffed: “So, you told him nothing’s changed?” He said, “Well, no… you’re worse.”

It took me back a bit… Yes, of course I am worse. I can’t do half what I could last summer ~ no dog park, no grocery shopping, no lunches with friends. I am only driving myself to places that are very close, I never have more than one phone conversation a day, I can’t walk as well as I could six months ago ~ my body has degenerated from so little movement. I’m in MUCH more pain ~ my spine, hips and muscles. The fibromyalgia-type pain only started in earnest after I left my job. I look worse. The lack of sun and fresh air have taken a toll on me. My sleep problems and emotional turmoil have aged me.

BUT, although I’m worse, I’m better, too. My sickly, shaky, evil nightly sweats are gone (except for the odd night) and that completely changes my life. I will never be able to adequately put into words what those malarial nights were like. Sleeping with the enemy. Also, my “nightly flu” has gotten better ~ the sudden increase in chills, aches, sore throat at around 6pm. There were so many evenings I would say, Okay, this time I’m really coming down with something. I still have those symptoms, but they are muted. The headaches eased up. Did you watch Mind The Abyss? After watching it, my husband said, “When the headaches came on…the man’s head held in his hands… that’s what struck me the most.” The severity of my headaches and the accompanying noise and light sensitivity altered my life more than perhaps any other symptom. The constant chills are gone… The ice in my bones, shallow breathing, tense muscles, uncontrollable shivers… This time last year, I COULD. NOT. GET. WARM. I rarely progress to the point of “bricked” anymore: where I hit a wall and I am grey, ashen, can’t move, can’t speak, weeping in a ball on the couch. My sleep is still a major concern ~ constant waking and endless adjusting from pain ~ but I get 8+ hours a night and that is a huge step forward. And, finally, my outlook is better. Don’t get me wrong, I mourn A LOT and feel alone and desperately sad (mostly when my symptoms increase), but, I laugh now and there is a semblance of acceptance. There was a point in time when I couldn’t smile. I tried, but they just weren’t there. It wasn’t depression, it was from pain. Pain sucks smiles away. And I had the knowledge that below the pain was the flu and below that was exhaustion and fear and a life I wouldn’t recognise.

I’m trying to forget about 70% of what I know about ME/CFS and follow my heart. So, yesterday, I threw the ball for the dogs and scooped the poop in the yard. Afterwards, I had a much harder time moving, but I thought, “Maybe it’s not a CRASH. Maybe it’s just because your muscles aren’t used to it. Maybe you’ll be okay. Tomorrow is a new beginning.” You never know what someone is going to say that will stick in your brain and help you through the days. My friend Z. suggested I think of new beginnings. Obviously this makes sense in the grand scheme of this new alien life. It’ll never be what it was and I have to eventually look at it as a new beginning and stop fighting it… But, I’m not quite there yet. I’m not ready to embrace this mortal coil as a new, permanent realty. However, every day can hold hope as a new beginning. Every hour. It’s kept me going through a bad week. After this bath, maybe I’ll feel better, maybe a new beginning. After this meditation, a new beginning. This moment, a new beginning.

Today I am grateful for all that is better and new hope for the future.

Launching my wish for the future, with husband and friends Z., J. and D. Thanksgiving, 2010.

Launching lanterns with our wishes for the future, with husband and friends Z., J. and D. I wrote, “I wish that we have long, healthy, happy lives.” My husband wrote, “What she said.” Thanksgiving, 2010.