Another good day for me! And more sun for the boys to soak up. 🙂
Tag Archives: symptoms
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.]
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!
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).Â
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.






