Feeling too sick to remember how to feel better

May 30, 2014

If I get a cold, I know what to do. I know to drink decaf tea. I know to eat certain foods. I know which medications to take and when and why. But the second I have a fever, all that good knowledge gets lost somewhere in my brain and I forget what I’m supposed to do. When I talk to a friend or my mom, though, they remind me. Too bad they don’t know what to suggest for my extreme fatigue.

Even in my lousy state, I knew it started with all of the extra activity on Saturday. I did a lot that day, moving and being alert almost nonstop from 7am to 3pm, and I assumed that was the cause. Or maybe I ate something I shouldn’t have when I went out to lunch on Saturday. I was careful, but you never know. In the haze, I knew I shouldn’t push myself. I watched a lot of tv, read, watched movies, read, watched more tv, and read some more. I left the house for groceries and for a medical appointment, and felt much worse after each outing. It bothered me so much that no one knew why this was happening.

Except someone did. I did. Or I would have, if only I could have thought clearly. I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. I knew there was a metaphorical strip of gauze over my brain, obscuring the information inside. Thank goodness I was able to peak under the gauze for just a moment last night. That changed everything.

Last night it occurred to me that I could take an Isocort tablet. Isocort is a supplement that can be used to help treat less severe adrenal insufficiency. At one point I was taking 5 tablets. When I eventually weaned off of it, my naturopath told me to take it occasionally as needed (and we discussed what “as needed” meant.) Thankfully, I had a fair amount left, since it’s since been discontinued. I almost never take it, but last night it occurred to me that I should. However, even in my poor cognitive state, I knew better than to take it at night. Thankfully, I knew enough to take it out and leave it with my other pills where I wouldn’t miss it.

This morning I wanted to try getting by without the Isocort. Ah, what a state I was in to think that could happen. I finally took one tablet around 1pm, knowing I still had time to take more in the afternoon if I needed to. I didn’t need to. By 3pm I was feeling much better, and at 3:30 I went out for a short walk. It felt so good!

More than the physical improvement was the cognitive improvement. The gauze lifted, and it all made sense. I should have taken Isocort preventatively on Saturday. I’ll do that the next time I’m in a similar situation. I overdid things on Saturday and that caused my adrenal gland to go on vacation for a bit. While it was lying on a beach in Malibu, I was suffering. Taking an Isocort or two on Sunday would have helped me to recover more quickly. Resting so much was the right thing to do, but I needed to support my adrenal glands also. Without that support, they weren’t about to return from their peaceful vacation away from my overwrought body. And of course, each extra bit of activity, each outing, only made me feel worse as my adrenals retreated even further.

Today is Friday. It took four days for me to realize that Saturday’s activities were the trigger to my recent downturn. It took another day to realize what I should do about it. And it wasn’t until I felt better that I figured out what really happened. So the question is, what do I do differently next time? Obviously I should take preventative measures, but usually I don’t know I’ll need to. By the time I would figure it out, I’m no longer thinking clearly enough to do it. I can write down a list of things to do the next time I feel fatigued, but that only works if I remember to look at the list. I don’t think I can trust myself, so I’ll do the only other thing I can think of: I’ll tell my parents and a few close friends what to suggest the next time I tell them I’m fatigued. With any luck, at least one of them will suggest the right thing and I’ll take that advice. But if I don’t, and if I write again about a downturn involving fatigue, I hope one of you will point me back to this post!

6 Comments | Educating, Fatigue, Frustration, Isolation, Limitations, Medication, Rants, Support, Symptoms, Unpredictable | Tagged: , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

How much do your friends really know about your illness?

May 22, 2014

We’ve all had to face people who don’t believe that we’re as sick as we claim. In many cases, I blame them – especially when we’re talking about doctors and other medical professionals. However, I think that very often it’s we patients who are to blame. We don’t share the details of what we deal with because we don’t want to be seen as constantly complaining, or over-reacting, or because we’re embarrassed. Consider these two versions of a hypothetical conversation:

Version 1:

Her: Hey, what are you up to?

Me: Just cleaning the toilet.

Her: Do you want to join me to dinner tonight?

Me: I’d love to, but I already have plans.

Version 2:

Her: Hey, what are you up to?

Me: Just cleaning the toilet after last night’s IBS episode.

Her: What happened?

Me: It’s pretty gross. You probably don’t want to know.

Her: Go ahead and tell me.

Me: Well, I had some explosive diarrhea. I’m just so glad it stayed inside the toilet bowl this time! But it’s in areas that flushing won’t reach, so I have to clean it myself.

Her: I was going to invite you to dinner….

Me: Yeah, I’m probably not up for going out to a restaurant. Why don’t you come to my place and we’ll watch movies and chat?

Her: Great! See you tonight!

Do you notice something here? In the first version, I sound perfectly healthy: I’m cleaning the toilet and I have plans to go out, just like my friends. Nothing to worry about. In the second version I’m not complaining, but my friend now understands that I was recently feeling very ill, and that my day is about dealing with that. She doesn’t feel put-upon to listen to me complain, but she understands why I don’t want to go out to a restaurant. I’m not hiding anything, so I’m able to suggest a low-key evening and we can still spend time together. If I had instead said that I didn’t feel up to getting together at all, she would have understood why.

Some people will never believe what we deal with either because they’re too selfish to consider it or because they’re in denial. But most of the people close to us, the ones who love us and want us to be ok, have the capacity to believe us and understand, but when we hide things then we don’t give them that chance.

I am not suggesting that you always talk about every problem you have. That would allow for a balanced conversation. At the same time, I don’t suggest lying or hiding things, either. If someone asks how you are, what do you say? You could lie and say you’re fine, you could spend 20 minutes complaining about every symptom and the 10 different calls you made to the insurance company, or you could find the middle ground: you could state your problems matter-of-factly and then move on to talk about the other things in your life, even if they’re as mundane as cooking dinner or reading a new book.

There’s no one way to share information about an illness. You’ll have to figure out on your own what feels right. For now, start small: when someone asks what you did yesterday or who you’re feeling, try answering them honestly and see what happens. You just might find a bit more support when they know what you’re really dealing with.

How much do you share about your health problems? What do your friends really know? Please share in the comments so that others can learn about what works.

6 Comments | Educating, Isolation, Limitations, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Support, Symptoms | Tagged: , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

A few questions for certain politicians

May 21, 2014

It’s tough when the national budget doesn’t balance. I get that. But what what are citizens supposed to do when they have no hope of balancing their personal budgets because they are too sick or disabled to work?

We pay into Social Security so that it will be there when we need it. Then we become disabled and need it, and too many of us are denied it. I’m not even going to talk about the fact that the payment is too small to even pay a modest rent in many parts of this country. I’m just talking about how hard it is to get this so-called “safety net” when we need it. And yet certain politicians still suggest that we need to cut back on the program. So here’s my question for them:

Without social security, or with reduced payments, how are we supposed to pay for basic things like rent, food, and health care?*

I’ve heard one common answer many times: your church will take care of you. Um, no. What if you’re not Christian? What if you’re not religious? What if you just moved to a new community and don’t have a church community yet? What if there’s no church or other religious establishment nearby?

Now, let’s suppose none of those issues apply in your care. Let’s say your church and its members want to help, but they don’t have enough money. Are they expected to pay all of your bills for the rest of your life (or until you turn 65 and standard Social Security supposedly starts?) Could they really afford to pay the housing, food, and medical bills for all of its members in need of that financial help? So here’s another question for those politicians:

Are the only people “worthy” of living in this country those who are able to work, those who marry people who can work, those who inherit large amounts of money, and those who win the lottery?

I greatly resent having to prove that I’m too sick to work. But what I resent even more is going through this process while healthy people on tv suggest that the government needs to cut back on these payments. I’m sure that seems like a perfectly reasonable approach for all of these well-paid people who assume they will be able to work for as long as they want and so others should too. But that’s the tricky thing about disabling conditions: most of them are not predictable years in advance. Just because someone is working now, doesn’t mean they will be able to work 10 years, or even 10 months, from now. Maybe they will and maybe they won’t. And if they can’t? Will they change their mind about the policy? What if it doesn’t happen to them? What if it happens to a friend? Will they pay their friend’s bills, or will they say that it’s not their responsibility? Will they tell their friend to find a church to help out? Or will they realize how insensitive and callous it sounds to suggest that their friend shouldn’t have access to the government system they paid into that’s designed specifically to support people in this particular situation? This begs the question:

Should everyone be treated equally? Or do you suggest different treatment for already-wealthy individuals?

It’s easy to suggest that disabled people are lazy and choosing not to work. It’s always easy to use a stereotype to justify your own prejudice. It’s also easy to say that all Jews are cheap, all bisexuals are promiscuous, all black teenagers are in gangs, and all women are overly emotional. It’s easy, but that doesn’t make it true. These stereotypes might be true for some people, but they are not true for all people. Just as some people on SSDI are lazy and choosing not to work, but that is not true for everyone.

And that’s why, most of all, I resent being stereotyped as a justification for rich politicians looking to score political points and get even richer. That’s why, most of all, I have to ask:

How can you live with yourself?

*Yes, there is Medicare and Medicaid and The Affordable Care Act (Obamacare,) but those are not available to everyone and they do not cover all costs. I wish they did, but they don’t. I have great health insurance, one of the best plans available. Last month, in addition to my premium, I spent $600 on over-the-counter medications, copays, parking at medical offices, visits with my naturopath (who has been more helpful than the doctors who are covered by insurance,) and other things. Other months have included items such as orthodics that are necessary to me but are not covered by insurance. Of course, this does not include the so-called extras, like gas to get to appointments or paying for help with things I can’t do like cleaning and shoveling show.

3 Comments | Educating, Frustration, Insensitive, Intrusions, Politics, Rants, Support | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

We’re all in this together

April 30, 2014

We were discussing the possible side effects of a tetnus shot, and she said I could take some Advil for the soreness I’d probably have in my arm. I said that I’ve had chronic pain since I was a kid, so this wouldn’t be so bad for me by comparison. She seemed truly sympathetic. We continued to chat as she gave me the shot, and I said something about how what I have is sort of like fibromyalgia. I saw the glint of recognition in her eyes. I thought she must see a lot of fibro patients, but then she told me: her sister just told her yesterday that she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia.

I didn’t know this woman. Come to think of it, I never got her name. But we spoke openly and honestly. I told her that the hardest thing for many of us isn’t the symptoms. Those are horrible, yes, but even worse can be when we’re doubted. Doctors think we’re just looking for medicine or attention. Relatives think we’re pretending or exaggerating. She told me about her rocky relationship with her sister, but how she still wants to be there for her. She told me that her sister had complained of symptoms for years, but she never took them too seriously. I told her that being supportive is the best thing she can do. There’s no cure for fibro right now, but there might be ways to help mitigate the symptoms. I mentioned having people around to help and maybe changing her diet, and how she would need support for all of it. I told her about going through the five stages of grief.

I worried that I might have overstepped what’s considered a boundary between two strangers. I apologized for saying too much. She stopped me and thanked me. “I’m so glad I met you.” She said it more than once before I left.

The entire exchange lasted only minutes, but I think I might have helped both this woman and her sister. At least, I hope I did. And when she seemed surprised that this total stranger was trying so hard to help, I told her how hard it can be, especially when someone is first diagnosed. I said that I wished I’d had someone who’d gone through it to help me, so now I always try to help others. After all, we autoimmune folks need to support each other. We need to be there for each other.

8 Comments | Educating, Expectations, Support | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

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