Jun 7th 2015: And Another Thing

Keen to keep up my (I think) unbroken record of posting every week, I’m going to tell you about my day. Well, the past 34 hours and how things can go vastly different to how you expect when you have chronic illness.

Thanks to Endometriosis, I’ve been having physio for pelvic floor issues (possibly the subject of a future post if I’m brave enough to share!) and my physio suggested that the tightness in the skeletal muscles in my lower back, round my hips and glutes could be adding to the problems I’m having.

Happy to do anything to try and move the physio and recovery in the right direction, I booked in for a massage. Of course, because of the challenges of fibro and the problems that can be caused, I go to a massage therapist recommended to me as someone who knows how to treat a fibro body without pushing me into a major flare.

So she focused her efforts on my extremely tight muscles from neck to glutes and I left with the usual ‘post – massage out of it’ feeling. It’s a great feeling, although it does make driving home an interesting experience!

Knowing that I would be sore, I spent time on my heated throw rug. Alas, overnight I stiffened up some what and getting out of bed in the middle of the night was painful. And noisy as I grunted and groaned.

Then I woke up at 5.30. In terrifying pain in my abdomen. The kind of pain that has your heart beating far too fast, your breathing accelerated beyond belief, your skin clammy and your entire brain taken up with the pain.

Fortunately a Dolased and a heat pack bought the pain under control so I could go back to sleep and with liberal use of heat and nurofen plus (and medicinal cookie dough) it’s not got to the same levels again.

Being able to control the pain (along with some other symptoms) and I think I can narrow it to probably an ovarian cyst rather than anything like appendicitis. But it’ll be off to the doctors with me tomorrow for a referral for an ultrasound most likely.

And this after getting over a chronic fatigue crash last week.

I just want to be normal. To have a week where I’m not dealing with a migraine, or chronic daily headache, or fatigue, or sore hands and feet, or stabbing pains from my reproductive system. To have a week where I don’t have at least one medical appointment.

But that’s not possible in this world. So I just plod on. Cos there’s nothing else to do. Is there?

May 17th 2015: Fear

I just got the reminder on my phone to write tomorrow’s blog post and realised I hadn’t got round to writing this week’s yet. *sigh* I seem to be getting out of the habit and just when I was having such a good run. Hoping a late entry for this week still qualifies as a clean run!

This week was Fibromyalgia/CFS awareness day (12th). I was going to write a blog post about one or both and direct you to some information sites. But I was thinking through the week about something that I certainly haven’t come across when reading firbro/CFS/chronic illness websites, and that’s fear.

I know it’s something a lot of chronic illness sufferers will relate to but I’ve just never seen it discussed before.

During the good times (yes, there are good times), there’s always a fear about when the pain is going to come back, when it’s going to get worse again and how long it will last for this time. There’s a fear of injury, an injury that could spark a flare and the long recovery from an injury. For me there’s the fear of a migraine, especially the type that I suspect are hemiplegic type which can leave me feeling very weak and with a horrendous headache, unable to drive and sometimes even stand.

The fear of how long the depo will work to keep the pain of the endometriosis at bay.

The fear of not being able to sleep at night because of pain, but not being able to get up and do anything because of pain. And then the problems the next day of increased fatigue and pain.

The fear of going out anywhere in case a migraine hits or my guts play up or any number of other things.

The fear of going on a hike and injuring an ankle or knee and having to rely on others to get you back to the cars.

The fear of letting the fear get to you so you don’t go out, don’t go on hikes, don’t leave the house, don’t do anything that could cause injury or put too much strain and the body.

And then during the bad times (of which there a many) the fear that it’s never going to get better.

Feb 2nd 2015: Learning to Say Yes

Background (in case you weren’t familiar with it already) I have Chronic Fatigue, Fibromyalgia, Endometriosis, and a bunch of associated chronic health things.

Ok, onward…

I’ve spent the last 5 years, learning to say no to things. I had to in order to look after my health. I had to accept that I couldn’t go out everywhere I might like to and stay out as late as I might want to, or do as many things as I might want to. It’s just not physically possible. Well, not without tempting the wrath of the flare gods. Being protective over my down time has been good; I feel like I have the health stuff under control.

But I also feel that I might be missing out on things.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to start skydiving, bungee jumping and god know what else.

I am going to start saying yes to a few more things than I have in the past few years. In the knowledge that I will come up to the tipping point, that fulcrum, the delicate balance between doing enough stuff that I feel I’m living versus doing too much and I end up in a heap on the floor.

I only hope I can recognise when I get to that point.

So, what am I doing this year?

Well, nothing too physically demanding that’s for sure!

I’ve joined a gaming group for Pathfinder (we sit at a table playing, eating and drinking for a few hours – I think I can manage that.)

We seem to be booking more table top gaming days in general (again, sitting at a table while playing and eating and drinking is extremely taxing on me.)

(I joke about games days not being that demanding, but what actually is demanding is getting the house tidied and cleaned, and food prepared for the day if we’re hosting. There’s always a risk that I overdo it the day before preparing and then I’m too tired/sore to actually take part or enjoy the day.)

I’ve had a few weeks with a fair bit of socialising including film nights with friends, birthdays, citizenship celebrations etc. I hope that continues through the year. In general, these events involve sitting in someone’s house/garden eating and drinking. I can deal with that. I just have to watch the late nights as lack of sleep is a big flare trigger.

I’ve recently discovered that there’s a host of online learning courses that you can enroll in for free. What a great way to keep my brain active and learn some new skills that might help me in my personal or professional life. I’m currently doing two courses; one on chronic pain which is a subject close to my heart, head, back, neck, pelvis, legs, etc., and one on project management, something that might help me either in my existing job or a future role. I don’t think sitting on the couch with a laptop or tablet will be too strenuous. I’m also enrolled in a couple more starting later in the year.

A group of us have formed #hikeclub – hiking around the Perth area with our inaugural hike booked for the 1st March. I’m looking forward to some exercise, seeing a bit more of the Perth countryside, and some more socialising with friends. I know I’ll have to take it easy, but with the encouragement and support of friends it will be good for me. (Fortunately this first one falls on a long weekend so I’ll have a day to recover before going back to work!)

There’s also a super secret project. *shifty eyes*

And I may add some more things in during the year depending how the first bit goes.

The learning curve on saying no to things was harsh. I’m hoping the learning curve on saying yes won’t be so harsh. I’m also hoping that I don’t overdo it and push into a big flare.

There is a potential problem with saying yes; there’s always the chance that I have to bail on plans if the body decides it would rather be resting. This means that I might let friends down. And the more you let people down, the less inclined they are to invite you to things.

So, a note to my friends; I would love to come to your BBQ, dinner, cat’s birthday. But please understand that on the day, I just might not be up to it, and I apologise for that. But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love an invite to your film night, lunch, dog’s wedding, for next weekend.

I’m looking forward to saying yes a bit more often this year. Just not if you’re going deep sea diving.

It’s Enough to Make One Sick

Three notes right at the top:

1)      This is a very long post. It wasn’t intended to be a long one but that’s how it went. I’ll forgive you for not reading it all.

2)      This is a very personal post. I talk about “women’s stuff”. And body stuff. You know, vaginas and periods and ovaries and wanting to kill people. If you are slightly adverse to such things, I’ll forgive you for quietly slipping away now. I was going to password protect this one, but I think it’s important to keep it public because I know that maybe, just maybe, someone will read this and it might help them to seek medical attention. As a friend said earlier, it might help someone out there know they’re not going through the same thing alone.

3)     None of the below is offered as medical advice – I am not medically trained. These are my experiences only. Please speak to your doctor if you have any unusual symptoms.

 

In case you haven’t read any of my health posts before, it will be informative to know that I have the following chronic conditions:

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), Fibromyalgia Syndrome (FMS) and Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS)

 

Recently added to the list is Endometriosis (endo). This is just a “presumed” diagnosis at the minute as the only way to confirm it is through surgery. However, my recent MRI scan is pretty conclusive and I reckon moves the percentage likelihood from 95% to 99.9% – as good as it’s gonna get until a surgeon gets to take a look.

Actually, this is a terrible place to start this story.

Let’s go back to my teenage years. Those years where I was socially awkward anyway and combine that with two to three days a month where I wanted to rip the head off anyone within a five foot radius followed by five days of being doubled over in pain and things just got worse.

Looking back, I think it’s safe to say that I have always had endometriosis. Apparently the average time from first symptoms to confirmed diagnosis is 9 years. It’s taken me 15 to get to this point.

After about a year of shocking period pains and heavy periods I went to my GP. The mistake I made was in thinking that painful and heavy periods were normal.

This is just not true. And if you are experiencing heavy or painful periods, for God’s sake go and see your GP. You do not need to be in pain every month. And if you get no joy from your GP, go and try another one.

Anyway, my (male) GP at the time tried a variety of painkillers, general analgesics, and those specifically designed for period pain. Nothing worked. So eventually I was left with only one option – to go on the pill.

This fixed things. Not only did the pain go, but I was bleeding less, and periods were regular and controllable. (I remember the joy of being able to go on holiday when I wanted because I could control when my period came!)

Everything went smoothly until 2004 when I had a… thing. At the time, the neurologist called it a Transient Ischemic Attack or mini stroke. But I’ve had two more occurrences of the same thing since then and I am now thinking that it was a hemiplegic migraine. The last one, I didn’t even go to hospital for although I suspect the medics would probably advise otherwise given the associated symptoms!

In any case, the neurology consultant at the time strongly recommended that I stop taking the combined pill, give my body a rest for a while and then when I was ready, start back on the mini pill. This would give me contraceptive coverage (albeit at a lower success rate), but would reduce the risk of a recurrent TIA.

I dutifully obeyed, gave it a few months and when I started getting period pain again, I decided it was time to go back on the pill.

When I moved to Australia in 2008, there didn’t seem much point in taking the pill; I was practicing the best contraceptive known to man – celibacy! But when we booked a date for the wedding, it seemed somewhat prudent to start again.

All was well with the world: regular periods, nothing too heavy, and, most importantly, no sprogs!

Then two years ago, I suffered extreme abdominal pain. Couple this with a period that was 11 days late and my GP went into panic mode – the worst case scenario being an ectopic pregnancy that could require immediate medical attention.

An ultrasound and a blood test revealed I was in the clear but a cyst had made itself at home on my left ovary. “Nothing to worry about, should resolve itself in a week or so. Heat and painkillers. Come back if you’re still not right in ten days.”

The pain went, slowly, the period came and all was right with the world again.

Until three months later when I got the same pain. Again ultrasound revealed nothing sinister. Not even a cyst this time.

Then the next month I had more pain.

Then the next month.

Then the next month I had worse pain and it lasted for longer.

By January this year, I was in almost constant pain, my heat pack was my companion at work and at home. Overnight I would have a hot water bottle clasped to me to try and prevent me waking up in the middle of the night in agony. The pain was so bad it would take my breath away and leave me holding onto a kitchen chair for support while I waited for the codeine to kick in and the microwave to do its thing with the wheat pack.

I finally got myself off to my (female) doctor. Who told me off for leaving it so long! A referral onto a specialist Ultrasound revealed that things really were not well with the world or my uterus. And a possible diagnosis of Endometriosis was borne. As mentioned above, the only 100% way to diagnose endo is through surgery and eyeballing the implants and effects of the endo. So off to the specialist I was sent, with a warning that the wait time could be up to three months. I think I balked slightly as the Dr suggested a hormone injection to give some relief in the meantime.

The injection has worked brilliantly. It’s the injection that is used for contraceptive purposes (Depo provera) and the reason it works to relieve the symptoms of endo is that it stops the ovaries releasing eggs which begins the cycle of endometrial shedding (assuming a pregnancy doesn’t start). I have had no to low pain for the past 3 months, and as a wonderful added bonus, no periods.

Two weeks ago I saw the consultant. I was so nervous knowing that the likely next step was surgery. The whole idea scares the hell out of me. So it was with a lot of trepidation, not to mention an A4 sheet of questions, that I went see him.

I reckon I’ve hit the surgeon jackpot. Not only is he a lovely guy who is clearly extremely knowledgeable and respected, not only in his field but in surgery in general, but he’s a surgeon that seems just as happy to keep me out of an OR as he is to rush me in.

Any surgery carries risks. Surgery in the lower abdomen carries high risks (a slight miscalculation of space and the surgeon can nick intestine or bowel tissue and that can lead to a lot of complications.) A surgery for someone with CFS /  FMS could put them out of action for months. Even at the lowest level of surgery (exploratory only to confirm diagnosis), the recovery time could be months. (One of his past patients with FMS spent four months recovering from a “simple” laparoscopic procedure.)

Our decision was that we would wait and see. The depo is working, the endo is not going to get worse if we leave it alone so why poke the bear and possible create problems where there are none. Or at least the problems that currently exist are being effectively masked with conservative, medical treatments.

But while we’re waiting let’s get some more diagnostic images to try and see exactly what’s going on just in case in the future we decide on the surgery route. Information being power and all, the more he knows before he cuts, the better prepared he will be.

Cue MRI scan and another ultrasound. The MRI was fine. Noisy and a tad uncomfortable, but fine. The ultrasound is going to be bad. It’s called an endovaginography. I’d invite you to look it up so you can share my apprehension but Google hasn’t heard of it. Understandable given that it’s a new procedure and one that currently only a handful of experts are trained to do.

Basically, the technique uses ultrasound to see through the vagina wall into the bowel to try to establish what, if any, endo there is present either on or in the bowel wall, or actually within the bowel itself.

Sounds like fun huh? Cue bowel prep requirements. Oh joy. This could be why I’m putting it off for a while. I’m very busy at work at the minute you see. And then there’s that other thing I have to do – a root canal maybe. Or an appointment to stick my head in a tank of tarantulas.

However, I have the MRI results back and my GP went through them with me this morning when I went for my 24 month full service and check-up. (At this point I think dignity is a word that only exists in theory when it comes to my lady bits.)

Basically the endo has stuck every possible organ to each other.  Everything seems to be affected. Name any organ or structure that resides in the lower abdomen, and it’s mentioned in some way in that report.  It kinda helps to explain why I was in constant and severe pain. It kinda makes me really nervous about what the next step is though.

The GP mentioned that the scar tissue that exists due to inflammation could obstruct the bowel so I need to be alert for bad abdominal pains combined with vomiting and high tail it to ED. I’m no medical expert, but I do know that a bowel obstruction isn’t something you mess about with.

I see the surgeon again in October. This gives me a chance to work up the courage to do the ultrasound. But it also gives me time to stew on the possible outcomes of this whole thing.

Can we continue to “wait and see” given the extensive nature of the implants, adhesions and scar tissue? Are there increased risks of doing nothing versus going into surgery? How long will it take for the depo to stop controlling the symptoms and allowing me to live “normally”? How will this affect me in my older years if we do nothing now? Why me?

That’s the big question going through my head today: why me? It’s such a self-indulgent, self-pitying, stupid and pointless thing to say but there it is. With everything else (CFS, FMS and IBS) don’t I have enough to deal with? Oh yes, and the endo will make the IBS symptoms worse, and the IBS can imitate endo pain, making it one lovely negative feedback system in itself.

And this at the end of two weeks where I have felt the best I have been in about four years. I’ve been out walking, I‘ve been eating healthily, I’ve had more energy and motivation to do stuff (except work!). But I know that within me lurks this disaster zone that I suspect can’t stay how it is. I suspect at some point I will end up in surgery and it won’t be pleasant and I will have a protracted recovery period. There’s some positivity for you.

I do wonder how different things would’ve been if my GP when I was a teenager had done a bit more work rather than just throwing me on the pill. Or if I’d known what I know now and had pushed harder for further investigations to be made rather than accepting what seems to be a fairly standard GP answer. It is highly likely that the pain I had then was the first symptoms of endometriosis. I wonder if we’d done something then, if things wouldn’t be so bad now. Or if I’d just ended up having more surgeries through the years to keep cleaning it up.

You see, that’s the other thing. There is currently no cure for endometriosis. There are ways of controlling it. There are some very effective ways of controlling it. But no cure. Even a full hysterectomy isn’t a guaranteed cure as there is the chance that some implants are left and will cause problems. A chance that increases the more the implants have spread around the body. Current figures put “cure”, i.e. lack of symptoms, at 70% at three years following surgery. And the more severe the endo is to start with, the greater the chance repeat surgeries are required.

So another chronic condition that has no cure and involves pain and fatigue. Just like the CFS and FMS.

It really is enough to make you sick of being sick.

For more information you can try the following web pages or visit your GP:

http://endometriosisfoundation.org/

http://www.endometriosis.org.au

http://www.fmnetnews.com

Pursuant to nothing.

I’m having a bad few weeks. I’m exhausted. I hurt-an awful lot. And I’m feeling very down.

When I feel this way, I tend to hide in a cave. A metaphorical one, obviously. Although an actual cave to hide in would be great. *checks domain.com for available cave-type dwellings*

Times like these I have to give every once of energy at work. Because that’s what pays the bills. But it means when I get home to husband, I’ve got nothing left. I just want to go to bed and sleep.

Probably not the married life he was picturing when he popped the question. Wasn’t actually the married life I was picturing truth be told.

And this makes me feel incredibly guilty. Which makes me want to hide out in my cave. See dictionary definition of: vicious circle.

Whilst I’ve had a year of doing natural remedies (supplements, diet changes etc.) I think I’m now at the point of ‘give me drugs-decent drugs’. No OTC pain killer touches my pain levels during really bad patches like this one. The only thing I can do is to max out doses of everything and use a calmative to try and squash the anxiety I get from this kind of pain.

But what if I could avoid the pain? I’ve been reading up and there are meds out there that can help reduce pain levels in fibro patients.

So I think I’m off to my GP soon. After the next load of blood tests that is.

In the meantime I know from experience that this bad patch will end. It will get better. I will be able to participate in life a bit more in time. And appreciate that, whilst I’m in pain and hiding, husband is doing a lot for me and all whilst not really having a wife because she’s in hiding.

** Warning: soppy bit **
Thank you for everything you do for me babe. I love you, and I’m sorry.

Diagnosis Acquired: Achievement Unlocked (A Health Post)

So it’s official. Well, semi-official. OK, as official as it’s going to get with a doctor that doesn’t really want to label me.

Last Wednesday I finally managed to express my frustration with not being able to accept that all the aches, pains, fatigue and assorted other symptoms, are just… me. There is no way that a 21* year old like me, that eats fairly well and takes more pills than my 96 year old grandmother, should have the kind of symptoms I have.

To be fair, the doctor man has run every kind of test he can do without me undergoing an autopsy. Which isn’t exactly conducive to living afterwards.

We have ascertained that there is something auto-immune going on. And this is something that will require regular monitoring to make sure nothing freaky happens. Like Lupus. (It’s never Lupus. Except when it is. Or when it might be.) Whilst I don’t tick the required number of diagnostic criteria for it to be called SLE, there is concern. Hence blood tests every 3 months. Maybe I’ll make that 4-6 months… Unless I make friends with a vampire.

Anyway, so at the end of 11 months of tests, appointments, pills, scripts and more tests, we’ve landed on the highly predictable diagnosis of… (drum roll please…)

Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia.

Strangely it was these two conditions that my GP suspected and wanted confirmation of when he first referred me to the Rheumatologist over a year ago. Funny that.

It’s strange. I know putting a name on these two conditions won’t make them go away. There is no magic pill that will make me all better. In all likely hood I will have to live with CFS and FMS for the rest of my life.

And actually, I’m ok with that. I know what to expect-I can read forums and help pages and get in touch with support groups  and know what I’m in for. It was the not knowing. The not having a reason for everything that was worse than the actual symptoms.

It’s a bit of a learning curve at the minute. Alongside the CFS/FMS combo, I’ve also got hypermobility syndrome which is affecting certain joints: notably knees and elbows but probably ankles, hips and wrists too. This causes pain and problems.

There’s the IBS which means I need to stay away from things like onions.

I’ve also developed an intolerance for gluten and lactose, meaning I can have a bit of each but too much and I’m ill. I’m learning how much I can have before I pay dearly for the tasty, tasty cheese and bread I want to eat.

And of course sleeping problems – which are being nicely tackled with melatonin every night.

Well, it’s been a long haul (two and a half years of symptoms and the last year of tests etc.) but we got there. And by there I mean putting a name to it. A magic pill would’ve been nice but I knew it was unlikely.

I enter the world of the Spoonie.

 

For more on invisible chronic conditions like Lupus and Fibro, and more about the spoon theory see http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/

*Real age has been changed to protect author’s identity. Wait. What?