Tag Archives: sleep

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A Day In The Life

My yesterday:

I had an appointment with the orthodontist at the sleep clinic to be fitted for the sleep apnea dental appliance. I already postponed this appointment a week since I’d been feeling so awful and, even though I’m still feeling awful, I didn’t want to cancel again. I’ve actually started to think that maybe part of the reason I’ve taken such a prolonged downturn is because I haven’t worn the cpap in two or three weeks, so I need to get this fix-apnea show on the road. [Quick aside: last week, when I called to reschedule, I told them I had an appointment with the orthodontist, but couldn’t remember her name. “Dr. P—–? She’s actually a dentist,” the receptionist corrected me and it’s been bugging me all week. I just googled Dr. P.: Nope, the doctor is an orthodontist and completed her residency at Harvard School of Dental Medicine and was on the orthodontic faculty at the University of Tennessee, College of Dentistry. Maybe this bothers me because my father is an endodontist and there is a significant amount of additional education and expertise that goes into a dental specialty. (I was on my way to becoming a Registered Dietitian once upon a time ~ a 2-year full-time graduate program that was going to cost me $50,000 ~ before I could even apply, I spent a year taking prerequisites that I didn’t have from my Bachelor’s degree: anatomy, physiology, biochemistry, organic chemistry etc. Virtually every time I talked to someone about my future career, they would confuse what I was doing with being a “nutritionist”. The distinction was important to me. Anyone can call themselves a nutritionist! Beware, those of you in the US: a “nutritionist” can be an 18-year old that read a lot of cooking magazines in her bedroom and decided to hang a shingle outside her door. There are no legal or professional regulations!) But mostly I think the mistake bothers me because I was incorrectly corrected… And you should know the staff… Rant over.]

The orthodontist, Dr. P., was really nice and very sympathetic to my situation. She said my teeth and jaw bone looked wonderful and my movement (of the jaw back and forth, side to side) was great and I was perfect candidate. She warned me that my teeth might shift from the appliance (like having braces) and my bite might change slightly and my jaw might hurt in the beginning and that they will give me exercises every morning to help stop the “muscle memory” in my face/jaw/head that will have a tendency to keep my jaw in the forward position it’s used to from 10 hours in bed wearing the device. She took the impression of my teeth and then told me to make an appointment for 5 weeks from now for the fitting. No. Way. Everything takes so long! It’s going to be another 2 months before I can even try out this device. Boo.

Unbelievably, this appointment was 1.5 hours (how could I have predicted that?!). The orthodontist was very thorough and explained everything in great detail, which I appreciate, but her office was windowless with horrid lights in the ceiling and at the 45 minute mark I was already losing focus and slumping in my chair. I had driven myself to the sleep clinic because it is very close to my house, but I had an acupuncture appointment afterwards downtown for which I need a chauffeur. I planned to meet my husband at home, but the appointment went so long, I asked him to come to the clinic to get me. Dr. P. gave me the option of coming back another day to have the impression done, but that would have postponed the whole process ANOTHER week. I called to warn the Good Master acupuncturist, my husband left his work truck in the sleep clinic lot and, before we got to the highway, I realised I had to eat something. Acupuncture on an empty stomach is no good and, if I didn’t eat something until 5pm when we got home, I would collapse. Because my diet is such a nightmare, the easiest thing to do was go home and quickly microwave some of the amazing leek and turnip soup my husband had made the night before… Of course, now it would have been much better if I had just driven home myself and met my husband there, rather than abandoning his truck at the clinic.

My acupuncturist only inserts needles in the ears, forearms, calves and feet. I may feel and look like crap, but I still have a modicum of vanity and, on the drive downtown, I was clipping my toenails and moisturizing my legs while eating my soup and reviewing my symptom calendar so I could accurately recount how I have been feeling since my last appointment. All this while sitting as far to the left of my seat as possible ~ practically on the center console ~ to avoid the blaring sun on our west side, threatening internal combustion and making my headache even worse. Once I got there (only ten minutes late!), he said he didn’t want to aggravate anything with acupuncture today… Wow, I had even shaved my legs. Instead, we talked about the Chinese herbs. Finally, after all these months, I was ready to buy a bottle. I’ve been waffling about this treatment for so long! He was quite excited. During our very first appointment last September, not even knowing that I would be one of the 1 in a 1,000 patients that had negative reactions to acupuncture, he had said, “Chinese herbs will be the most important thing for you.” He has always maintained that I have Gu Syndrome and these herbs are the key to my recovery. What finally made me come around was: 1) Dr. Chia’s video (if I had journeyed all the way to California to see him and he had put me on Chinese herbs after the Good Master spent 7 months steadfastly and confidently urging me to take his pills, I would have been mortified. They use different herb blends, but I trust my acupuncturist completely). 2) I started to feel worse. If I had stayed on that uphill trajectory, I wouldn’t have wanted to rock the boat by introducing anything new. So, maybe this crash will be a blessing in disguise.

The best part of this visit was he persuaded me to take my first pill while we were sitting there talking. He knew full well I might go home and not open that bottle for months ~ if ever. I’m such a chicken. Eat something with a lengthy ingredients list of things I can’t pronounce? Swallow something containing herbs my body has never encountered before? No, thank you. Not this delicate flower. But, the thing is, even though I know I have a sensitive system, I really still believe in the resilience of my body. She’s been a trooper all these years. So, I took the pill while he watched and I took another a few minutes ago and I feel fortified ~ emotionally, if not physically. Yet.

My appointment was so short that my husband was still about 15 minutes away when I finished. I was a mess. I was a shuffling pile of jello, slurring my words, bumping into walls. I literally did not manage to exit the elevator into the foyer before the doors started to close again ~ that’s slow! PWME (people with M.E.), you will appreciate this: I didn’t want to wait on the loud, busy, beepy, dusty street corner, so I wondered into the mattress store in the bottom of the acupuncture building and mumbled something to the socially-awkward salesman about needing a new bed. He looked at me uncertainly because I’m sure I sounded drunk and I was having a hard time walking. I told him I had an injury and didn’t want to walk around the store, but I would lie on this TempurPedic in front of me to see how I like it. Writing this, I’m laughing out loud because it really can be tragically hilarious the things we do to catch a rest break. (By the way, I wasn’t totally lying: I have a new plan to put a twin mattress in my meditation room, so my husband can have our bedroom back.)

The end of the story is that I was virtually comatose on the drive home, other than being able to feel every divot in the road grind my vertebrae together and batter my brain against the walls of my skull (note to self: win the lotto and buy the smoothest, quietest, comfiest car on the market). I tried to muster up the energy to drive home from the sleep clinic parking lot so my husband could drive his truck, but I was unsteady on my feet and I was really having a hard time opening my eyes and speaking clearly. It was just like the time I got pain killer and muscle relaxer injections in my butt for a sprained neck. I was all floppy and out of it. So, we went home instead and I don’t even remember stumbling to bed where I stayed for two+ hours. My husband took a taxi back to his truck.

It wasn’t until after 7pm that I read the news about the bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. There are no words to describe how I feel about this tragedy, but I am once again filled with gratitude for those people that don’t turn away from suffering. From the first responders and the medical personnel that make helping their careers, to the bystanders and strangers that jump in to help without hesitation, to the friends and family that provide ongoing support to those that hurt… holding hands, holding vigil, holding hope… Thank you.

Title Credit.

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all the logic and language and loss

I was hoping to start feeling better again before I wrote anything, but this downturn is lasting longer than I thought it would. It’s not horrific. I’m not confined to the bed or couch, but, I’m not walking in the garden or doing my stretches ~ my two forms of activity. I’m basically just shuffling around the house, very Tin Man. Easter was the beginning of the slump, with symptoms aggravated by a teeth cleaning last week. I had been putting it off for a few months, thinking it was not a smart expenditure of energy, but, when I was having my good week, I made an appointment.

I looked online beforehand, but I couldn’t find any firsthand accounts of the ramifications of teeth cleanings on people with ME. Unfortunately, I can’t really give an accurate account because I compounded the effects by ~ I know, I’m an idiot ~ driving myself downtown to the appointment and chatting way too much to the hygienist because I wanted to fill her in on my situation (I’ve been going to the same dental clinic for over a decade).

I thought the drive would be straightforward and I didn’t want to ask my husband to take the day off work. Big mistake. Again. The problems started while I was walking from the elevators to the dental office. My heart rate was over 120 bpm and I had to stop walking repeatedly. This was a short hallway and I felt ridiculous stopping every two steps to wait for my heart to calm down. I wasn’t nervous about the appointment, so I think it was because I was carrying my purse… That’s my theory. The cleaning itself was fine. I asked her to be very gentle and skip the floss. The worst part was coming back upright after being tipped fully head-down in the chair for so long. But I recovered quickly from the momentary vertigo and went home.

That night I was curled in a ball on the kitchen floor, crying, feeling like I was dying, dogs swarming around me, wondering what was wrong. I told my husband, “Never let me drive downtown again, no matter how strong I say I’m feeling.” I tried to figure out the reason: Was it because I drove too far again? Or because my heart was running full steam? Or because I talked too much? Or the after-effects of the position I was in ~ akin to a tilt-table test? Or the actual cleaning ~ the release of bacteria, the micro-abrasions? I’m always trying to tease apart cause and effect, but there are too many confounding variables and logic doesn’t lend itself to this disease. Logically, with more rest and more sleep, with a better diet and fewer toxins, with less stress and more mindful awareness, I should be feeling better than I ever have. But my temperance is obviously outweighed by the marauding lifestyle of my viral invaders and the intemperate rage of my immune system.

Happily, my hygienist said she thought it would be fine to push my next cleaning out a year since I am taking such good care of my teeth. There is nothing like a chronic illness to get you to floss every day and never go without your mouth guard ~ I don’t want any preventable problems complicating my current situation.

I didn’t feel as bad the next day, but then my period came. This is now my fourth almost-painless period since coming off the pill in December and, believe you me, I am rejoicing every minute of fearless, crampless menstruation. I spent SO many years dreading the monthly… planning my life around it… so, this positive change in my body does not go unnoticed. However, the ME/CFS symptoms definitely flare up each month ~ the usual uterine pain has just walked around to my lower back. And my coccyx: the absolute southern-most point of my spine is killing me. That baffles me.

Since getting my period, I have had a headache. I haven’t had a headache in so long ~ especially one that goes to sleep with me and is still there when I wake. I’m not happy with this bedfellow ~ I was hoping, since the husband and dogs have been relegated to different beds, I would only be sleeping with the dust mites that could survive my weekly washing ~ so, again, I’m trying to analyse the cause: Is the headache from my period? The new Seriphos supplement? The new licorice tea? Pollen allergies? Neck tension? Bad sleep? But, all other symptoms have increased, too: I’ve had more of the usual inflamed, painful, stiff muscles. The hot/cold issues. Feeling like I’m coming down with something… sore throat … you all know the deal. And I had two nights of slight night sweats. This struck the fear of god into me. Besides the muscle issues and heavy dragging exhaustion, these are symptoms that had left me. Yesterday, I started begging aloud: Please don’t let it come back, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE...

For a few months I have been watching the texture of my skin change. It’s bumpy ~ different than anything I’ve experienced in 40 years. I was convinced it was my extremely high-fat diet, so I ignored it. Who cares? I have bigger fish to fry. But it’s getting steadily more alarming and during these last few weeks of hormonal fluctuations, it has bloomed into an acne-braille mash-up that, when coupled with the lack of muscle tone, weight gain, sleep-deprived eyes, thin hair showing a year’s worth of grown out roots (with so much grey!), has me recoiling from mirrors. I told my doctor that I felt like that scene in The Exorcist where the skin on the girl’s stomach spells out “help me“. It was like the needle slid across the record… The Good Doctor and her trainee internist looked at me with heads cocked and eyebrows furrowed and I could hear the clock’s second hand ticking around… “Oh, nevermind,” I said. “I just mean my body is trying to tell me something.” My point was, there has to be a logical explanation. My body is pushing  from the inside out into every pore and I should be able to read its message. I should, after all these years, know its language.

So creepy... So sorry.

So creepy… So sorry.

A few happy notes to help get that image out of your head: our Cherry Blossom tree is in full bloom, raining salubrious pink petals all over the garden. My sleep is ever so slightly better. I’m starting Chinese herbs next week and will probably add back legumes to my diet after that. I managed to organise all of our finances for tax time. My husband’s sleep apnea is nothing to worry about. A bird just hopped by my window with a tuft of what was obviously my dog’s golden hair held in its beak and I’m thrilled to think, after how much he has terrorised them, that his fur will do a little community service in a nest somewhere. My friend Z. and her beautiful baby girl came to visit yesterday. My family is healthy. And Game of Thrones has started.

Title Credit

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Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy

It’s like I flew to the Caribbean over night. I just sat in the sun for an hour, wearing only a tank top and shorts. I had to come inside in case I was in jeopardy of getting a sunburn. Sunburn?! A few days ago, it was snowing! And it is only meant to get hotter through the weekend. It definitely lifts my spirits. Although, you know how odd it is when you have a cold during the summer? That’s how I feel. I took my bad turn for the worse at the end of last summer, so it feels all wrong to be sick in the heat. Intense spring sun is meant to energize and bring a low hum of excitement and vibrancy. Instead, my head is full of cotton balls, my body is swollen, throat is scratchy and my muscles are extremely stiff. But, it’s warm out… focus on the positive!

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And, speaking of positive moments, I thought I should let you all know that I felt good yesterday. Yesiree, I said GOOD. I drove myself to an appointment that was only about ten minutes from my house. I stopped at a store and got lunch from the deli (this is the first time I have walked into any building but a clinic or hospital in months). I walked around the garden with my dogs. I stayed awake until 11pm and actually felt okay after 6pm ~ able to watch a movie, able to laugh.

There always has to be an unfortunately and, unfortunately, my night was quite tortured. I stopped wearing the cpap about a week ago as an experiment. My allergies flared up and I was too stuffy and inflamed in my sinuses to use the nasal masks (the alternative is a full-face mask, but mine is extremely bulky and wakes me up as I thrash around). My brain during sleep fascinates me. I would love to see an fMRI of the whole night. I would love to do a sleep study in my own bed and really see what happens from minute to minute. My brain is on fire. It is infected by unease. In the brief moments of waking ~ like surfacing periodically from quicksand ~ before the incubus’s long fingers push me down into unconsciousness again, I feel somehow crazed, like the mental version of wild-eyed. I am tensed against the cold or curled on the edge of the mattress, trying to avoid the heat. I am clawing my way out of nightmares that are always about running from whatever is trying to kill me or desperately needing a rescue, with no hope of help.

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If I had to objectively interpret what is going on beyond the obvious fear/loss of control dreaming, I would say perhaps I do need a prescription remedy to calm whatever chemicals are misfiring or maybe I am low on some neurotransmitters and, just like I take thyroid hormones everyday, I should be taking something to regulate brain chemicals… But that’s just it: they’re BRAIN chemicals. That’s scary. And it’s such a crap shoot. What Rx to choose?

So, I am at peace with my current stubborn obstinacy to sleep meds and maybe, if I ever take that step, I will wish that I had done it sooner, but I refuse to regret my choices.

As if to reinforce my thoughts, when I called the closest hearing aid store to inquire about custom-fitted earplugs, the lady that answered the phone told me she had taken half an Ambien and wound up in an ambulance to the ER, with doctors thinking she had had a stroke.

Anyway, I don’t know what the no-cpap experiment shows. I feel like I’m sleeping a little better and I think my Zeo graphs show slightly better sleep cycles, but I feel worse when I wake up and during the day. More tired and stiff and groggy and beaten up. Maybe it’s just allergies. My husband is watching tv with tissues shoved up his nose, so I know it’s definitely in the air.

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Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News

I couldn’t decide whether to use this Robert Palmer song for my title or the equally cheesy and almost as ancient Thompson Twins song: Doctor, Doctor, can’t you see I’m burning, burning… Have to say, I like the latter better, but I don’t currently have a fever, so it didn’t win out. 🙂

I wrote this post yesterday before I launched into the exciting day of driving myself to appointments. It’s kind of unfinished, but I’ll publish it anyway and get on with resting up…

I got the results from the saliva and stool sample tests that I sent off almost a month ago. I don’t have the hard copy results in front of me yet, but the doctor called me yesterday and I took furious notes. Here’s the wrap up:

  • IgA antibody tests for milk and eggs were negative and gluten was 4 (he said they consider below 6 negative). These results could be because I am not sensitive or they could be because I am sensitive, but I haven’t eaten any of these foods in 7 months (almost a year for gluten) ~ and I’ve been very strict with no cheating. Soy came up as “equivocal”, meaning not negative but not a strong enough reaction to be positive. He suggested I stop eating soy to give my gut the maximum opportunity to heal in case it is causing inflammation or reactions. I don’t eat soy a lot, but the things I do eat with soy, I really don’t want to give up: namely, Vegenaise (I can’t have the eggs in regular mayo) and soy creamer in my tea (I’ve tried all other options ~ soy creamer is the best mimicker of milk in my black Irish tea). He said I have to watch out for soy lecithin, which is in a lot of processed food. My Earth Balance fake butter has soybean oil and soy lecithin in it, so he said I could probably use butter since people with dairy sensitivities usually do fine with butter (just to be clear: I don’t know if I have ANY sensitivities to foods, I am just doing this diet to help my gut heal, decrease systemic inflammation and increase good bacteria).
  • DHEA was 6 with a range of 3-10. He said that indicates that I am no longer in severe adrenal fatigue.
  • 17-hydroxyprogesterone was 22 with a range of 22-100. He said this indicates that I am in a high cortisol output state, but, because my DHEA isn’t extremely low, he thinks my adrenals still look okay.
  • H. pylori was low = negative.
  • When my stool was cultured for yeast, it was negative.
  • Estrodial was 8 with a range or 2-10.
  • Progesterone was 45 with a range of 20-100.
  • Chymotrypsin (a digestive enzyme component of pancreatic juice) was 12 with the range being >9. The doctor interpreted this as showing my digestive enzymes were okay and my pancreas is working.
  • No signs of parasites or infectious disease-causing bacteria like Campylobacter, Shigella, Salmonella, E. coli etc.
  • Levels of two enzymes (lysozyme and alpha-lactalbumin, I think?) that the gut produces when it’s irritated were low = good.
  • My bacterial balance still indicates gut dysbiosis, unfortunately (which, by itself can lead to immune dysregulation and both can lead to mitochondrial dysfunction). I am still low in friendly gram-positive bacteria and too high in gram-negative bacteria. He said I am doing everything right (bowel help, elimination diet and probiotics), so he is not sure why this is not getting better. But, he said keep doing what I’m doing.
  • The other significant result was the salivary cortisol test:
    • Morning = 16 Range 13-24
    • Noon = 10 Range 5-10
    • 4pm = 8 Range 3-8
    • 12am = 7 Range 1-4
      • Apparently, my pituitary is turned on all the time and my cortisol is not going down enough at night, which is probably why I am not sleeping well. He suggested taking phosphorylated serine (a supplement called Seriphos made by Interplexus), starting with half a capsule an hour before bed. He said this is an amino acid that will help turn down the cortisol.
  • Lastly, he said I should avoid genetically modified foods by trying to choose organic fruit and veg as often as possible. I kind of scoffed at avoiding GMOs, mostly because I didn’t want to think about ANOTHER thing to avoid, but he gave me a speech about what scary gene manipulations are being done and how many studies are suppressed by big money (ie: Monsanto), so… okay, I’ll take it more seriously. [There is such a ton of shocking information out there, that this subject needs a separate post all to itself.]

THEN I had an appointment with my new sleep doctor. I love him, thank god. Once again, I spent a few days this week weeping from the burden of this disease. Lack of sleep not only increases all the symptoms of ME/CFS, but it also causes the usual black fuzzy cloud of irritation that healthy people experience when they don’t sleep. My friend Z., who has a new baby, reminded me of this. Even healthy people are exhausted and overwhelmed when they are woken up throughout the night, night after night, so I’m cutting myself some slack. Having said that, after having quite bad diarrhea from the Valerian supplement I started last week (my body is SO tolerant), I was finally ready to consider a prescription sleep drug. Especially after reading this post over on Learning to Live with CFS.

Dr. M, my new sleep doc, gave me a few new options for sleep and then pointed out, “Note that I am not reaching for my prescription pad. We can go there, but not yet.” Low dose anti-depressants may be the answer, but I love doctors that try everything else first. It makes me feel listened to ~ respected. First he said, for very light sleepers, CPAPs can replace the waking problem of apnea with the waking problem of a foreign object attached to your face. Well, no shit! Finally someone who doesn’t say, you just have to work at getting used to the mask and it may take months.

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Just get used to it!

He told me to add another mg of melatonin about 3 hours before bed and keep taking the 1mg right before I go to sleep. He recommended getting a custom-made pair of earplugs from a hearing aid store. They will cost about $100, but he said they will be a very good ~ and comfortable ~ investment. I should try going to bed a little later ~ he thought that I may wake up 5 times rather than 15 times if I went to bed closer to what I thought my natural sleep time would be (I told him, in a perfect world, I think my sleep schedule would probably be around 12am-8am). He warned that it sounded crazy, but putting a gel ice pack under my neck and head when going to sleep can help and, even better, take a bath 3 hours before bed and then do the “cool head” routine to really exaggerate the effect. He recommended I read Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight, more than anything to get some solace in the fact that I’m not alone. Finally, he thought we should try a dental appliance to replace the cpap since my apnea is mild (although, he did confirm that I have a physical apnea problem ~ not just heightened brain activity. He thought the throat narrowing is probably a congenital disorder that has affected my sleep all my life). This is not my dentist, but the page gives example images of dental appliances, if you’re interested.

Aside to my Dad: I KNOW, you told me so. But I wanted to give the cpap a fighting chance. Plus, I really liked breathing filtered air all night instead of dust mites and dog dander. Plus, I invested a lot of time and money getting to know the cpap life. Dr. M. warned that it won’t be a quick and easy transition to a dental appliance. The dental device takes time to make and, once I’m using it, it will take a few visits and a lot of tinkering to get it fit perfectly. He said it will shift my teeth a minuscule amount and cause some jaw discomfort, but it can ultimately help TMJ disorders, as well as apnea.

More later when I’m up to it. The snow from my last post is gone already ~ just in the time it took to edit this, maybe half an hour. So, new gratitude:

TO THOSE FRIENDS THAT HAVE NOT LET MY ABSENCE FROM LIFE SCARE THEM AWAY: THANK YOU FOR BEING THERE. There are no words to describe how much I have needed you and how you have buoyed each day and given me the strength to keep fighting this. Isolation is a killer and feeling like you’re not interesting/funny/able to contribute/able to participate can start to make you feel a bit worthless. If I’m not brimming with energy, quick-witted and able to talk about life’s new adventures, would I want to know me? So, you know who you are: I don’t take you for granted for even a single second. [Again, this subject needs a separate post all to itself.]

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… love … love … love … love …

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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. 🙂