Why socks are stressful

April 27, 2017

My friends saw the socks lined up in my drawer and they laughed. I guess I understand. It does look odd, after all.

They had taken the drawers out of my dresser so the dresser would be easier to move across the room (because my friends are super awesome like that) so they noticed the socks.

I had only lined up my socks a couple weeks earlier and I was already loving it. Now it’s been more than 2 months and I’ll never go back. I can see all of my socks at a glance, and I can easily grab the ones that are right for that day. This is important, because choosing the right socks can be stressful.

Yes, I’m talking about socks. The things that go on your feet.

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One morning 12 years ago my toes were swollen and painful. It was hard to walk. I saw specialists, had tests done, and it was never figured out. The only thing that helped was Prednisone, and that’s not a long term solution. Over the years, the swelling and pain came and went, sometimes at random, sometimes obviously triggered by heat. Until a few years ago. A few years ago the swelling came and it stayed. I don’t know why. No one knows why.

The amount of pain varies. I wear special orthodics, the only shoes I wear are sneakers and boots, I’m super careful. But there’s only so much I can do.

The more swollen my toes are, the harder it is to wear shoes. Or socks. On cold winter days sometimes I can’t wear socks at all, so I sit in a chair and wrap a blanket very loosely around my feet to keep the warm. It’s not ideal, but what else can I do?

Some socks are tighter in the toe, others are looser. I try different brands, always searching for the “best” socks for my poor little toes. Summer socks aren’t too hard in general, but winter socks tend to be tighter, plus they’re thicker, which makes my shoes feel tighter. But I can’t wear summer socks year-round because it’s simply too cold for that. Thanks to Raynaud’s, the circulation in my fingers and toes isn’t good, and my toes get very cold very easily. I also have to be careful not to wear warm socks on days that won’t be cold, because my toes could easily overheat, and then they’d become even more swollen and even more painful.

We all have these calculations we make in our heads a thousand times every day. When to take pills, which foods to eat, whether my fingers can manage the buttons on that dress today, can I walk in the sun or do I have to stay in the shade. For me, which socks to wear is just another calculation. Still, it’s one I struggle with Everything. Single. Morning.

I became inspired to line up my socks as I was reading an organizational book. I put warmer socks together and cooler socks together. Then I organized them by how loose or tight they are around the toes. It’s been amazing! No more hunting through my drawer each morning looking for the “right” socks for the day. Now I just decide on the weather and how swollen my toes are. If it’s a cold day and my toes aren’t too swollen, I can go for those cozy red socks. If it’s a cold day but my toes are more swollen, the soft purple socks will do.

It seems silly to an outsider. But to me, it’s one of the thousand daily health calculations I make that’s been made easier. So it’s worth looking silly. Because it works.

 

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Why first person I turn to is Dr. Me

April 24, 2017

It feels like everyone with chronic illnesses has their own story of medical mismanagement. That leads to everyone having their feelings about doctors and the medical establishment. For me, it lead to a combination of distrust and dismissiveness. Which is why it wasn’t until I had a bad reaction that I realized I should have run things by my doctor. But it just simply had never occurred to me to talk to him about it.

My own story of medical mismanagement has to do with crappy insurance, insular establishments, poor practitioners, and a lack of communication. In hindsight, I still can hardly believe that in 11 years of symptoms, my doctor only sent me to a rheumatologist ONCE, and that was only to rule out lupus. The next time I saw a rheumatologist was by my own design, and I was diagnosed within a few weeks.

As it turns out, the test he used to diagnose me had been run several times before, with results that weren’t high enough for a diagnosis, but that were high enough that they should have been flagged. But no one told me about it, and my primary care physician didn’t keep track of it. So the ball was dropped.

Over and over the ball was dropped. It was dropped when I went to my doctor asking to be tested for lactose intolerance. He told me there was no such test (a lie!) and to keep a food journal. Then he showed the journal to a nutritionist (supposedly) and said that it showed I wasn’t lactose intolerant. That was it. No followup. No tests. No referral to a specialist. A few years later I was “diagnosed” with IBS. I remained sick. I was often underweight. I the pain, nausea, and diarrhea were getting worse. 12 years after the lack of a lactose intolerance test, I told my current doctor that I wanted to be tested for Celiac. She said there was no point, that I clearly didn’t have it, and the tests weren’t accurate anyway. She offered no other suggestions, tests, or specialist referrals. So I went gluten free on my own and saw results within a few weeks. 6 months later, with the help of my new naturopath, I made more changes to my diet. Finally, after 20 years of nausea and other digestive symptoms, I was “cured.”

I could tell you dozens of stories like this, but the stories themselves aren’t the point. The point is that I found little use for primary care physicians. They rarely treated my symptoms properly. The rarely gave me the right referrals without a lot of nagging from me. They were supposed to coordinate my care but never did. So what was the point of them? I kept them because insurance required it, that’s all.

Recently I was having a normal day, when I was hit by a wave of nausea. Then my pulse spiked. I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I took my pulse many times. At one point it was 114. That’s not good. After 45 minutes or so, it hit me: I was having a hyperthyroid incident! A minor hyperthyroid incident is scary. A major one can kill you. So yeah, it’s good to take these things seriously. I immediately called my doctor, arranged to take the blood test the next day (since the office and the lab were about to close in 10 minutes) and lowered my medication.

When my doctor, and later other doctors, asked what caused the hyperthyroid incident, I was able to give them a short list of likely reasons. They agreed with my assessment. And the question kept coming up: why hadn’t I told my doctor about the change I’d made to my adrenal supplement dose?

The answer: because I never thought of it.

I knew I would have to lower my thyroid dose to account for the new adrenal dose. I had planned to do that the next week. My body just responded to the change faster than I had expected. My naturopath was working with me on this, and she hadn’t expected such a quick response either.

This wasn’t the first time I had changed that supplement. But I had never discussed it with my doctor.

The funny thing is, for the first time in my life, I have a PCP I like, respect, and trust. But I didn’t tell him.

Because decades of dislike, disrespect, and distrust had trained me not to.

I should have told him. I know that in hindsight. And I hope that next time I will. But who knows? I have very good reasons to be so dismissive of PCPs. No one argues with that (except my doctors, of course.) Maybe one day, if I have enough good experiences, I’ll learn to trust them. Maybe.

In the meantime, I continue to default to my own opinion, at least in areas I have researched (like my thyroid and adrenals.) It has served me pretty well so far.

After all, I chose to lower my thyroid dose after that incident. I hadn’t had the blood test yet. I didn’t know for sure what had happened.

Then the test results came back. I was very hyperthyroid. My doctor’s office told me to lower my dose immediately. But that was days later. The delay could have been dangers.

I had made the call myself, and it was exactly the right decision. Because Dr. Me knows my body better than any other doctor ever will.


Another season, another dog delay

April 18, 2017

I feel like I’ll never get a dog. It was almost two years ago, in June 2015, when I finally decided I was ready to get a dog. And here I am, dogless.

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If you’ve read this blog for a while, you know I came close. That was a year ago, and here I am, no dog.

After last year’s fail, I was shaken. I felt that I shouldn’t have a dog. Finally after many months, I began to feel almost ready again. Then my parents went out of town and I watched their dog for a week. See that fluffy cuddler in the photo? After a week with him I was SO READY! But I had been applying for apartments, I had no idea when I would move. What if I got a dog and then learned I had to move just a few weeks later? Even if the dog could handle it, I knew it would be too much for me. Even just the move alone felt overwhelming.

So I waited.

And waited.

Just a few weeks after cuddling with my parents’ lovebug, I was offered an apartment. That meant no dog until after the move. Once I moved, I had to unpack and get set up. I kept telling myself I should get fully settled before I started looking for a dog, but it was so hard. Before I knew it I was on Petfinder, Adopt-a-pet, and several local rescues’ sites. But it was no good. Most dogs weren’t a good fit, mostly because of my health limitations. When a dog did look like a fit, I applied right away, only to learn someone else had gotten there before me. I set up alerts on the various web sites, so I would get an email when a new dog was posted. I applied the same day, and still had no luck.

And then last week I had to face the reality that my dog search must be put on hold. It’s spring here in Boston, which means more pain and less energy for me. That would be hard with a dog, but I would manage. But with a NEW dog, it’s too much. The first few months of dog ownership will be incredibly difficult and tiring. I need to be at my absolute best. And during the coming months I will be at my worst.

Waiting until the fall is the smart thing to do. I will feel better. I will be more capable. But it means waiting another 6 months before I even begin to search again! And at that point, I might not find my dog.

People keep telling me to hold out, it will work. If it was someone else, I would be encouraging them, too. But right now, it just feels so impossible. I want my dog, my fluffy ball of love, and I don’t want to wait any longer. It’s been 2 years. Will I ever become a dog momma?

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Why am I having flashbacks?

April 11, 2017

Something happened the other day that scared me, and it finally occurred to me that I should talk to you guys about it!

I’m keeping this short and to the point.

For several years now, from time to time something will trigger me to very strongly remember a medical experience. The memories are strong, but they’re just memories.

Then the other day, it wasn’t just a memory. It’s what I’m guessing is called a flashback. I wasn’t confused. I knew I wasn’t in the doctor’s office. I felt like I was there. I could see the nurse standing over me. I could feel my arm outstretched as she looked for a vein (while in real life it wasn’t stretched out at all.) And I got all of the same symptoms I’d had at that time – the dizziness and jumpy vision among others, all while I knew it wasn’t real, it was a memory or something. Each flash was short, but then it would come back (the trigger remained for a while.) As soon as the trigger was gone, I felt fine. Shaky and confused, of course, but fine.

Afterwards, I figured out what triggered this. But WHY was it a flashback?

For years I have assured people I don’t have PTSD. I’ve read the descriptions many times and I don’t have it. But maybe I have something else?

I don’t have a therapist and I won’t have one any time soon. After all, this only happened once. And therapists are expensive. And my past therapy experiences weren’t good, so it’s not like I’m feeling like one will help me.

But the thing is, I want to know what’s going on. A label might help, because then I can look into ways to prevent it, or at least ways to handle it if it happens again. Coping mechanisms.

Has this happened to you? If so, what caused it? What do you do about it? Please let me know, so maybe we can learn from each other!


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