Tag Archives: sweats

by

My Overnight Sleep Study in the Hospital.

Check-in for the overnight sleep study was at 7:30pm. It was downtown in what looks like an office building across from the hospital. My husband drove me there and, when we arrived, the lobby was filled with overweight men. One of them was coughing, so you better believe I put my surgical mask on in the elevator. My husband doesn’t even blink an eye at this behavior. But, you know what? The last time I was getting my blood drawn and I explained to the phlebotomist that I didn’t have a cold, I just didn’t like being in the main public hospital because if I got sicker it wouldn’t bode well, she said, “That’s good! Protect yourself! You should!” And there are people out there who will think I have a cold and be grateful. I, for one, would be very grateful if someone were wearing a mask on a plane. The sickest person I’ve ever come in contact with in my life was sitting next to me on a plane. At the time I wasn’t paranoid, so I didn’t say anything, which I can’t believe. Somebody must have, though, because the air hostess (what are they called now?) tried talking to him — to help him or get him off the plane or something. I have no recollection what happened in the end, actually. Did I sit next to him the whole journey? Shudder.

Anyway, the check-in at the sleep clinic involved filling out the 4 EXACT SAME PAGES of forms as I had at the sleep clinic consultation. I will never understand why they do this to patients. Finally, about a month ago, I got savvy and created a google doc with all my allergies, over-the-counter meds, prescription meds, the reasons I take them, the dosages, when I started, when I stopped etc… So, I just print it out and take it to every appointment. To fill all that in on their forms might literally take hours. Plus, it would be very tiny writing. The room was like a hotel room: flat screen tv, shower, toilet, sink, bed… and 65 degrees. That’s like a walk-in. Okay, a broken walk-in, but that’s very cold for me. The tech told me to get into my pajamas and she would be back to take me to the electrode-placing room. This room was even colder. I sat in my little shorts and top shivering as she spent a full hour placing electrodes all over my scalp, chest and legs. She also put tight belts around me chest and waist. The whole time she was explaining things in her thick Russian accent. I was in Moscow in the 80s, I said. I traded my jeans for cigarettes and badges. Her eyes grew wide, Oh, when it was still the Soviet Union? But, these were beautiful badges and cigarette packs. In fact, I think I have the latter somewhere in a box with my Kiss (the band) bubblegum cards. If I can find them, I’ll post a picture. 24-year old cigarettes!When she was done, I looked like this:

I put another blanket on the bed, cranked up the heat in the room and lay down to read. I brought a suitcase; I came prepared. I brought Gatorade and snacks and pain-killers. I brought a bowl and oatmeal, a mug and teabags. But, really, there is no time for anything. By the time she’s done with you, it’s 9:30pm and she is going to be waking me up before 6am. That’s lovely ~ let’s take a bunch of sleep-deprived people and wake them at the crack of a sparrow’s fart (as my husband says). Even if I had asked the tech to heat me up some water for tea so I could warm up (the hospital paperwork said there was a microwave in the room, so I thought I’d be able to do it myself), I wouldn’t have been able to drink it comfortably because I had wires attached to my chin and things up my nose and even raising your arm is an ordeal. Once you are hooked up, nothing comes on or off and you can’t go to the toilet without waving your hand and calling out (because the tech is watching you all night on infrared cameras).She took my blood pressure which was 109/64 (quite high for me — thank you, chicken broth dinner) and ran me through a series of sensor tests (“point and flex your left foot, make a snoring sound, breathe through your nose only” etc.). They have sleep number beds which I thought was great ~ I always wondered what they were like. Holy shit do they suck. Do not fall for the infomercials! I lay there for an hour and a half trying to get comfortable and fall asleep. I listened to my sleep meditation 4 times in a row. I pressed the “softer” button on the mattress remote control about ten times. For those of you with fibromyalgia or any chronic pain, this is a woeful experience. Every wire, every electrode, every inch of the belts hurt my muscles. Plus, I’m on the thin side, so my bones felt like I was lying on concrete. I was like princess and the pea only the peas were jagged rocks. They want you to stay on your back, if possible, but, after the tenth time waking up in pain along my spine, I rolled to my side, not caring what wires I compromised (don’t worry, if a sensor falls off, the tech is alerted and comes in to replace it). I woke up at some stage and waved my hand and got her to disconnect me so I could go to the loo. I woke up at another stage and pushed the mattress “softer” button about 50 more times. I woke up at another stage and drank some water ~ very dry rooms. The one thing I forgot was my throat spray which would have helped with the tickle. I did have a lozenge in my purse on the other side of the room, but I wasn’t going to call the tech in for that. Hint to anyone doing a sleep study: put anything you think you might want by the bed before the tech hooks you up! I woke up again sweltering, had to push the covers off, take my knee-high wool socks off (Raynaud’s, remember), but no drenching night sweats, thank god. I woke up about 5 times with my neck tweaked to bits. The pillows are HORRIBLE. Why didn’t I tell them I had to bring my own pillow because of my neck injury?? (another hint) And then, at 5:55am, she woke me, ran me through the tests again and took my BP (80/51 ~ oof, I’ve never seen it that low unless I’m in a faint. Is it always that low in the morning?). With the lights on, this is what I found my face had been on, the pillow case slipped off:

Am I in jail? How many drooling, sweaty fat men have slept on that rag of a pillow, I ask you? Ew.

I assume most people shower because the goop they put in your hair is very thick and does not come off without hot water and shampoo, but I just wrapped a scarf around my head and went down to meet my husband. Half an hour later, I was in my own bed, with the electric blanket on, vertebrae cushioned, neck supported, more thankful than I have ever been in my life for a good mattress (Bragada is the brand, worth every penny) and a foam neck pillow (free with the Bragada!).

I don’t get the sleep results for 2 weeks. I guarantee the doctor tells me to take a sleeping pill.

Today, I am having a hard time breathing. My heart and lungs seem to be spasming, so I am going to spend the whole weekend trying to rest and praying praying praying that I don’t fall into a deep, dark crash tonight or tomorrow. Please let me get through that clinic visit without becoming bed-bound, weeping with pain and exhaustion. I’m just now slightly starting to feel less depressed, I need this triumph. I need to do one thing without my body punishing me.

Family and friends: I could have made this post half the length and then answered some of your emails, so I apologise… I’ll try to reply to you all tomorrow and not post on the blog.

Gratitude today is for our bed ~ the first big purchase for our new home in 2006. I had slept on a futon and my brother’s couches (in my 20s, I crashed with him in 3 different apartments) for 6 years before buying my first grown-up (cheap) mattress for my first grown-up apartment when I finally decided to stop being a nomad. Never underestimate the power of a decent mattress. I’m going back to mine right now. And I still have the goop in my hair.

by

Sometimes I need a revelation.

There are different levels of terrible when it comes to my nights. The best case scenarios are the nights when I just sleep badly, kind of like I have my whole life: I wake up easily, I don’t sleep very many hours, I’m tossy turny…

Then there are the nights that are like those described here: nightmares, pain, what feels like mental torture… Those are godawful, of course, but it’s because my body and my brain are doing horrific things, as opposed to feeling like I am infected with a deadly bug. The infected-by-a-deadly-bug nights ~ the ones I call my “malarial episodes” ~ those are the worst, the most indescribable. Those were the nights I thought might kill me, that went on for 6 months, which I described in my diary excerpt here. They made me feel like I was close to death all night and then clawing my way back to life throughout the day, only to have to do it all over again.

In between those last two, are nights like last night. A mini-malaria. When you add drenching sweats to my night, it changes everything. ANY version of insomnia/cramps/nightmares/thrashing etc. is better than that coupled with the sweats. The night sweats I get are sickly. I’m not just sweating, I am shaking and my head feels swollen with red-hot infection. There is sweat behind my ears and behind my knees and running down my chest and dripping down my back and pooling in the low points of my face. I wake up trembling, cold, and scared. Last night, it didn’t last as long as the earlier days ~ I wasn’t incapacitated by cold bone-chills first and it wasn’t as scary ~ that’s why it gets a category all its own.

But, I had a revelation last night. Here’s what I want you to know about my night sweats: they have absolutely no bearing on how hot or cold the room is, whether I’m wearing clothes or not, and whether I’m covered with a duvet and blankets or just a sheet. I tested those options within the first few months of my sickness. We turned the heater on or left the windows cracked. We bought dust mite covers for the mattresses and pillows and duvet. We bought a new allergy-helping duvet and pillow and sheet, an air purifier, a humidity-checker device, we kicked the dogs off the bed and made sure to lift the blinds and air out the room so condensation and mold couldn’t grow ~ but not before 10am, so external allergens wouldn’t be at their highest levels. Blah blah blah.

The important fact was that I had never, ever in my life experienced night sweats until that night that I had gotten sick while writing Christmas cards. I got a very high fever in my teens ~ my mother could tell you if I was drenched in sweat, but I don’t remember it. As a child I remember sleeping on some hay (don’t know where I was), but I always remembered that night because I woke up hotter than I’d ever felt in my life. I was worried that the hay might start to smolder. That was the hottest I had felt while sleeping until this year. And I always joked that I don’t sweat. “I can sit in a sauna and not sweat”, I’d say, so this was a very abnormal thing to happen and it came on very suddenly.

Over the months, I had theories about the sweats and I was positive I was right every time. The doctors ruled out cancer and peri-menopause and all the typically things that cause unexplained sweats. At first I thought I was having a reaction to fatty and/or spicy food. I had one of the worst malarial-type episodes after eating a habenero enchilada and another time after eating fried chicken and macaroni and cheese and another time after a Christmas party at a steak house. I was sure I was right. I stopped eating dairy, gluten, high-fat foods. I wasn’t right. Then I was positive it was the birth control pill. I had been on it continuously for a year and it was Yaz ~ a pill that has had some pretty serious side effects with people (as an aside, my body felt great on it). So, I quit taking the pill for two months and nothing changed. However, when I took my opiate painkiller during my period, my sweats were much worse, so I decided they were caused by the painkiller. I went back on the birth control pill and stopped taking the painkiller. I was wrong. The sweats didn’t stop and I’ve been in pain ever since. Then I 100% believed it was my bowels. I knew, with no doubt, that the sweats happened when I was having bowel pressure of some kind in the night. But, through the last month of IBS awfulness from the new diet and supplements, I had no night sweats. And there was quite a bit of constipation pressure, let me tell you. So, I thought it must be anxiety. I must be having panic attacks in the night. The sweats stopped for the most part when I left work, so I thought this proved it. They came back for a few days when my best friend was coming to visit from Ireland, so I thought that doubly-proved it. However, there have been key times when it didn’t happen ~ when I was a big ball of fear and worry and I didn’t have the sweats. And there have been times when I’m feeling pretty good and positive and they did happen.

Which brings me to last night and my revelation. I’m not sure why it took me this long to see it. The sweats happen when I overexert myself. Evil, evil M.E. I left the house at noon yesterday and I didn’t get back until 6pm, which never happens ~ I’m usually far too careful. And I threw the ball for my dog at the park and I was thinking, “watch out with this activity, girl”, but I wanted to push myself a little and see what would happen. Today, my throwing arm is killing me and my back and my neck… it all hurts and aches. My headache will. not. go. away. But the sweats came, too. And I just realised I didn’t meditate yesterday. I don’t think I have missed meditation more than once or twice in 4 months.

So, not only does overdoing it cause the extreme muscle pain and aches the next day and make me couched, but it causes the sweats? I have to look back through my notes and see if this theory holds up. It is understandable that the sweats didn’t stop until after I left my job because my job was the overexertion. Then, I got a handle on what I could do or not do and the sweats subsided. So, I guess, I just can’t push myself? Then how do I know my limits? How do I get better? This morning, it hurts to move my eyes. Literally. It feels like I strained the muscles that hold my eyeballs and, when I chew, it is painful in my temples. Oh, and my chest is tight this morning and it hasn’t been in weeks. I just said to my husband yesterday: the only good change is no tight chest this month.

My sports medicine doctor, with whom I met to discuss my muscles, wants me to try Lyrica and Ambien. I don’t know anymore. I just don’t know.

by

LDN Day 23… Do I keep going with the LDN?

Like I said, I debated for a while about whether I would be honest in this blog about just how bad it gets. I’m trying to chronicle the good times, the hopeful times, the funny times, as well as the bad times. And I’m still kind of holding back on the bad times because I’m towing the line between diary and public entertainment. I don’t want to depress or scare the readers that know me, but I also don’t want to misrepresent what this illness does to me.

Last night, I skipped all of the supplements after lunch. I skipped food, too. I just went to bed and felt crappy until about 11pm and then tried to sleep. I did take the LDN. I did some more research online and there are so many people saying, “Stick with it! The side effects go away, it gets better.”

My night was awful. I woke up with what I thought for a split second was paralysis in my left leg. Once I rolled over and the tingling started, I realised it was just total and complete bloodlessness. Then I woke up again with absolutely no blood in both my hands. It was the oddest feeling; I could not move the fingers at all. I sat up and shook them for minutes and went back to sleep. I woke up twice from the crippling headache that had struck around 6pm the previous night. I woke up at 1:30am shaking and trembling so much that I got up and checked my blood sugar (it was fine) and then decided to take 1mg of melatonin. This is a big deal for me. I have a fear of combining drugs ~ even “benign” ones like melatonin. I think I’ve only taken 1mg once in the past and it was split into two doses and I wasn’t taking LDN at the time. I like to be able to “monitor” what drugs do to me, so drugs taken at night are the worst. Well, the rest of the night was like something out of “Jacob’s Ladder”. I want to do the overnight sleep study just so someone can tell me what is going on with me in the night. Every time I woke, I was in a different place in the bed, using a different pillow, in a different position, head tweaked a different direction, jaw clamped down painfully. Every time I woke, I was either too cold or burning so hot that I would take my temperature, unable to believe I wasn’t dangerously feverish (never above 99.7 degrees). I had night sweats again. I had nightmarish, vivid dreams. In all of them I was sick and drugged. I kept going into lucid dreaming, where I consciously knew I was asleep and wanted to wake up, but couldn’t ~ I was too drugged, too sick. It doesn’t help that I’m reading those Girl With the Dragon Tattoo books, so all my dreaming imagery is pretty gruesome. I’ll probably have to put those books away for a while ~ until my subconscious isn’t such a lunatic. I have spent 4 months meditating and relaxing ~ my conscious self doesn’t feel that tortured ~ so is this the id rearing its ugly head at night? Freud, you there?

This morning, I’m okay. I feel like I’ve been put through the wars and I’m eating Tylenol for breakfast, but I’m okay. I only got about 4 or 5 hours sleep and tonight I think I might try the melatonin again. It’s either that or stop taking the low-dose naltrexone. Or start taking it during the day. I don’t really want to do the daytime LDN. I feel like, if I’m gonna do it, I should do it when I’m meant to do it for the best result. And, if I stop taking it… well, it’s like the one-armed bandits in Vegas: maybe this time will be the winner. Maybe this day will be the day the good kicks in.

I really will get to the laundry today.

Today’s Moment of Gratitude: NATURE: for the colours, smells, sizes, variations, animals, majesty, resilience, inspiration, and freedom… even gratitude for the bugs –the ones inside me. Little fuckers.

by

LDN Day 22…God is music.

I knew I should have posted something last night while I was feeling good… Yes, I dared to say good. I was dizzy and my neck hurt and my nose and eyes were driving me nuts blah blah blah, but, there was this moment at the dog park where I caught myself almost skipping, looking at the sunlight and glimpses of blue sky coming through the trees, humming along to music on my headphones, and SMILING. I felt normal. I felt joy. I felt hope. I thought, for the thousandth time, Maybe things have shifted. Maybe this is the beginning of the end of my affliction. Maybe I’ll be able to get up tomorrow and write, “I’m getting better, I slept well, I have hope for a future and career. Hooray for LDN and supplements and…life!”

Well, I’m not feeling so great this morning, of course. I actually had night sweats last night for the first time in weeks. After 10 hours in bed, my Zeo tells me I got exactly 6 hours sleep. I woke up with a bad headache, my muscles hurt, I’m really grumpy and I am the farthest thing from refreshed, but I have this leftover glow from yesterday. It’s like waking up with a really bad hangover, but knowing that you spent the night drinking with a wonderful guy and can’t wait to do it again.

I pray that this upward trajectory continues. I have to stop therapy because of money concerns and my insurance on massage therapy has run out. The low-dose naltrexone is $60/month (not covered by insurance, of course) and I want to be able to afford it for a while longer. I still haven’t finished the laundry I vowed to complete days ago ~ that will happen today ~ but I tidied the house and made oat bars yesterday (details on my next diet post), so those small things make me feel accomplished.

My husband went to a wedding yesterday without me. It wound up being a huge reunion of his late father’s family. I would have loved to have gone and met everyone. I feel like a ghost, like a figment of his imagination. I spent so many years pouring myself into work and now, when I have the time to pour myself into friends and family, I’m physically unable to participate. Cruel joke. Dear Friends and Family: I am participating from afar. I look at every picture, I read every email, I look at all Facebook posts, I cherish every piece of mail. If I don’t reply enough or call enough or show up enough, please know that YOU are the most important thing to me. You all keep me going, keep me hopeful, keep me grateful and compassionate, and allow me to meditate on what is truly important.

Finally, I am grateful for music. This year, whenever I have found myself lost in some good feeling, inevitably, I have my headphones on…

As the great Kurt Vonnegut said:

If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:
The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music.

by

Dark Yin

I have another good doctor. Well, not actually a doctor ~ a master. The acupuncturist has a Master’s Degree in Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine and he was wonderful. As soon as I finished recounting my story, he said, “You have a bug”… which I think I needed to hear. I know I do and, interestingly, this is precisely the first thing my wise-doctor father said when he was here: “You’ve got a bug.”

Even if there was 100% concrete lab proof that I have M.E., most cases begin with a sickness, so must patients probably are infected with a bug. The Good Master acupuncturist said, “I have absolutely no doubt that something has taken up residence in you, but we don’t know if it’s bacterial, viral or parasitic. There are bugs we can find and treat, there are bugs we can find but usually wouldn’t test for, and there are bugs that we don’t have the ability to test for, so we’d never find them. In Chinese medicine, we treat for all bugs rather than looking for the particular culprit which could be hidden deep in the body.” They call the bad stuff that you can’t see or find “Dark Yin” and the problem it has caused with me is called “Gu Syndrome”.

Now, normally my ears slam shut when people talk about Chinese herbs or Oriental medicine. Like I said, I have always been a traditional Western medicine type of lady, but, if I’ve learned nothing else this year, I’ve learned that I don’t know shit. Who am I to say that this or that is dangerous? Who am I to say that this or that will work or not work? None of the doctors I have seen has found anything wrong with me yet and none of them has any advice except sleeping pills and anti-anxiety meds. Who am I to take their tests, opinions and traditions as the only options?

I did tell him No. Way. when it came to taking the Chinese herbs. He asked me to research it and think about it. My husband says, “Of course you should try it!” Those of you dealing with this disease know that doctors give you no answers and you would do anything to get better, so I want to put this information out there for you to consider. I am going to upload a photo of the herbal remedy info sheet the Good Master gave me. Here’s the first line:

“A unique remedy for the important clinical phenomenon of Abdominal Gu Syndrome: difficult and treatment-resistant diseases (such as IBS, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia) caused by chronic, often undiagnosable parasitic infections…”

Although I’ve gone over the genesis of my illness in my head a million times, our conversation today helped me see it more clearly and feel more hopeful. He said, “Can you pin-point the day you got sick?” And I CAN. That’s why I think the Bad Bug scenario rings true. I was on vacation in Virginia, when, very suddenly, a got diarrhea. Believe it or not, I’d never in 38 years had the traveler’s diarrhea that people talk about. I was not nauseous, I did not vomit, just diarrhea that started suddenly and did not stop for a few days. I couldn’t eat ~ not really because of nausea, I just could not eat. I stared at an egg, willing myself to take a bite and I couldn’t. It scared me, brought me to tears ~ that had never happened, either. I thought everything resolved and then, three months later, I was writing Christmas cards and something started to happen to my body. I thought, Uhoh, I’m getting really sick. I moved to the couch and fell asleep for an hour, then, I woke up and told my husband that something was very wrong and I was worried that I might have to go to the hospital. It was the first cycle of chills and sweats that would continue for 9 months. “Chills and sweats”, of course, is a description that does not do it justice. For a better picture, read my diary excerpt:

https://ldndiary.wordpress.com/2012/08/31/how-my-cfs-me-began-an-excerpt-from-my-diary/

Now I wonder, did the Dark Yin take hold of me in Virginia, make me sick for 3 or 4 days, burrow deep and incubate for another 2.5 months and then start making me very sick? It was cyclical; it seemed like a parasitic life cycle, that’s why malaria fit so well. But my body couldn’t fend it off for whatever reason.

Feel free to not read past here. Below is my own investigative work for my own records. Believe it or not, I have never looked at the timeline.

During this whole time between June and December of last year, I was seeing a sports medicine doctor, a physical therapist and a massage therapist for my recurring, crippling neck injury. I also had to get two crowns over the course of these months, requiring multiple visits to the dentist. Also, when I look at my diary, I worked SO much. Every day was so busy and stressful and hectic. I didn’t take any time off whatsoever when I was sick ~ only for my trips to Ireland and Virginia.

June 17th-27th: In Dublin. I had a swollen tongue on 24th and 25th, took benadryls. I had a chilled/syncope/collapsy/low BP episode on the 26th, but didn’t go to the hospital.

Last week in June: continued to have swollen tongue.

July 11th: Saw Allergist who diagnosed me with autoimmune urticaria and angioedema and told me to take Zyrtec.

July 15th-26th: Acute bronchitis: short of breath, congestion, body aches, cough, mucous, sinus pressure.

July 22nd-24th: My Father’s visit.

August 6th: To Virgina.

August 9th-10th: Sick with diarrhea.

August 11th: Flew home early.

August 17th-21st: Drove to Boise, ID (with husband and dogs) for work.

October 9th-10th: Work retreat.

October 19th: Flu shot.

November 3rd/4th: Pretty sure I was sick with chills and sweats during this time.

November 17th-20th: Pretty sure I was sick with chills and sweats during this time.

November 22nd: Saw endocrinologist to talk about symptoms.

December 15th: Saw PCP to talk about symptoms and get malaria test.

December 20th-22nd: VERY sick.

December 27th: Was told malaria test was positive, but had two subsequent tests that were negative.

December 30th-January 1st, 2012: VERY sick. My mother’s visit.

January 3rd-10th: No appetite, severe chills, heart races, breathless just from standing up. Sweats every night, can’t eat, weak, lost 5 lbs, feel like I’m going to die.

I stuck out work for four more months before I had to leave my job to try to get better. The rest is history. The Dark Yin is still my dark passenger.