Debating the line between private and public

April 27, 2019

Today I spent a while editing something I wrote that will be published in a book. Unlike this blog, though, it will be published under my real name. I have gotten so used to writing under Ms. Rants, that I’m feeling a bit confused about this.

In the past seven and a half years I have published 736 posts on this site – yikes! Before I looked it up just now, I guessed it was around 600. That’s a lot of writing, and a lot of posts, during which time I have gotten comfortable sharing a lot. I have spoken about strained relationships, deep fears, and incredibly embarrassing moments. Yes, I know that nothing online is ever completely anonymous, but it’s unlikely that someone will care enough to dig into this tiny little site that doesn’t even make any money to try and find the author, never mind actually make that information public. And if they did, what are the odds anyone would care? This book, on the other hand will be much more widely read, we think. My name will be out there and searchable. And that makes me question, what do I want to share?

This is a question we all make every day in a thousand tiny ways. Today I had to bring my car to the dealer for recall-related repair. What a pain in the butt. They said that at least I would get a voucher for free food from their cafe. This surprised me, and without thinking I said thanks, but that I couldn’t eat anything there because I have Celiac Disease. I didn’t have to say that. I could have said thank you and just left it at that. But I try to bring up Celiac Disease frequently as a way of educating people, and now it’s habit. I want people to hear about it in benign situations, where they don’t feel like “the whole gluten-free thing is blown out of proportion.” That way when they do hear someone requesting gluten-free food, maybe instead of judging that person as being “difficult” they will remember that Celiac is a real problem for real people and instead they might just have some compassion. No, I don’t expect to change minds with throw-away comments, but I figure if they hear it from multiple people, it could have an impact.

I often get asked why I wear knee braces, why I’m limping, or something else that is none of their business. How I answer depends on the person, the way they asked, and my mood. If I don’t feel well, they won’t get a nice answer. If I feel good and have time, and they seem nice and open, maybe I will explain a bit.

But these are all relatively anonymous. The car repair guy knew my name, but that’s just one person, to whom I told one small fact. Now I am considering telling a lot more of my story – my journey through symptoms, diagnosis, shitty doctors, supportive doctors, horrible insurance problems, and all the rest – and telling it to many more people. I don’t mention family or friends in the story, it’s just about me, so it is all my decision.

I always lean towards sharing more. I think we, all of us with chronic illness, will help each other the most by being honest. That is why I made this blog anonymous in the first place. By far the most popular posts on this blog are the ones I thought no one else would care about, and I worried about publishing them because they felt super private, but I did it. Every single time, the response was huge, with people thanking me for sharing because they could relate. So I want to be open and share.

But I am also aware of the world we live in. This is the world where I could get harassed for being on government benefits, put down for eating gluten-free, and generally maligned for being ill.

One day, a friend at my chronic pain support group came up to me and told me she liked my blog. I was confused. It turns out, she had read this site and recognized that it was me. I felt exposed. But this would be different. I would go into it openly, knowingly.

I will share a lot in my story. I will be open about many things. But as I read those words again this morning, I had to ask myself, just how open do I want to be? Because once it’s out there, in a book, there’s no taking it back. And while I want to use my situation to help others, there’s a line. I just wish I knew where it was.

Have any of you had to deal with this decision of how much to make public on a larger scale? How do you decide? Please comment below, because I’d love to know! And if you’ve had to deal with this decision (and I’m sure you have, because we all have!) I would love to hear about that too. How do you decide?


What is left to eat?

January 15, 2019

Any of you with complicated food restrictions will totally understand. Sometimes it feels like nothing is safe. Like the world is full of food landmines.

Seven years ago I figured out that gluten was a problem for me. Over the next 2 years I figured out a bunch of other foods I had to limit or eliminate. As my leaky gut slowly healed, I was able to bring back some of those foods, while acknowledging that others are gone forever.

For the most part, I don’t mind giving up these foods. I can deal with never eating gluten or corn again. Yes, popcorn used to be one of my favorite snacks. But it’s worth it if it means no longer feeling so sick! So in theory, things were good.

Groceries

Over the years, I have slowly figured out many places where I was getting trace amounts of gluten, and as I eliminated them, I felt better. These were things like sunscreen, moisturizer, lemon juice concentrate, and kissing my then-boyfriend. Some were easier than others to avoid. Let’s be honest, dating gets a lot harder when you have to tell someone at dinner on a second date that you can’t kiss them if they eat gluten – and you don’t even know yet if they were planning to kiss you!

Things were going ok overall until recently. Something is wrong. So far my doctors have thrown around ideas ranging from mitochondrial disease to some sort of yet-unnamed chronic infection to weakened adrenals that aren’t responding to the current treatment. I’m going to see new specialists. But I have also begun to wonder about what I’m putting into my body.

You see, my thyroid med isn’t doing the trick anymore and I want to switch brands, as many patients have recently had to do. The new one is gluten-free, but then just as I was about to get it from the pharmacy it occurred to me that it could have corn in it. It turns out, it does. Hmm. I asked my naturopath what she thought. She said it might be fine at first, but eventually it would probably build up in my body and cause problems. That makes sense. So I’m going to start a compounded medication next week instead.

But then I realized that I hadn’t checked for corn in my current thyroid medication since the manufacturing process was changed last year. And sure enough, it has an ingredient that might have been derived from corn. Yet I still have to take it until the new compounded medication is ready. Every day, I take it knowing that it could be making me sicker, but that I also need it to survive.

Then I looked some more. My vitamin C contains cellulose. So do a few of my other supplements. Huh.

So now I’m wondering if my malaise, fatigue, and brain fog could be from too much corn exposure. I know that small amounts of corn syrup in ketchup, for example, causes a problem for me. So this might be it!

But then just last week I was reminded of the many ways that Celiac Disease symptoms can appear that aren’t necessarily gastrointestinal. And at the same time I learned about some other places where I could be getting trace amounts of gluten exposure that I hadn’t considered before. These are harder to detect, like particles in the air when I’m in the home of someone who has recently baked with wheat flour, or produce in the grocery store that has gluten on it because another customer was touching it. How on Earth can I avoid those? I want a gluten detection service dog (yes, that’s a thing! And they are amazing!) but I am not healthy enough to care for a dog as a pet right now, sadly, much less to train a service dog.

So maybe I will take my new thyroid med and feel better and not worry about this other stuff. Except, even though some symptoms got a lot worse recently, there were issues before, also. So something else is going on. And while I am willing to try a new prescription for adrenal issues and to see the infectious disease specialist, wouldn’t it make the most sense to first eliminate all sources of the foods that I *know* can cause problems for me?

The problem is, I found a list of places where corn can be found, and it’s intimidating. Many of these are common (vinegar) or often found in gluten free foods (xantham gum.) I don’t know how careful I have to be, either. Do I have to avoid honey just in case the bees were fed high glucose corn syrup? If this were a gluten issue I would say yes, but for corn? Am I sensitive enough to need that level of scrutiny?

So now a lot of foods and medications I thought were Celiac-safe might not be and might contain corn that I didn’t know about, produce could be contaminated by other shoppers, gluten might be in the air, and no one knows what’s really safe and what isn’t. Ahhh!

It’s no wonder I’m stressed out about food. It’s no wonder I wish I could just take a safe nutritional supplement and never eat again. Food is a necessity in life, but it feels like a danger, too. Yes, I have to make sure my shampoo is both gluten-free and corn-free and that’s a real pain in the butt to do. Yes, I can’t wear the kinds of lipsticks I like anymore and it totally sucks. Those are emotionally hurtful in different ways. But food is something I can’t ignore. I can say I’ll deal with the lipstick issue another time, but food can’t wait that long. And that – how much I need that thing that has so much potential to hurt me – might just be the most frustrating part of all.

Unfortunately, my insurance will not cover a visit to a nutritionist, and I don’t know how much that would help me anyway. But I would love to hear from others who deal with this. If you have Celiac Disease or corn intolerence, please please please comment below and tell me how you deal with all of this, offer suggestions, or just let me know I’m not alone. It helps so much!


Winning the battle against my fears

December 22, 2018

I used to travel a lot. I flew to Florida twice a year to visit my grandparents, I drove to New York twice a year to visit my other grandparents. I drove to Maine many times a year to spend a weekend or a week in my family’s vacation home there. Sometimes I flew to another state to visit friends. On top of all of that, I would take one week long bigger trip to someplace I hadn’t been before. Yes, I knew how to squeeze every last hour out of my vacation days! (There were many exhausting long weekends!)

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My last trip overseas: London

That was my life before. Before my chronic illnesses became quite so disabling. I can no longer drive the 4 hours to New York. I have not been on a plane in 8 years. Eight years! I used to fly 3-4 times every year and now…. I feel stuck at home.

Travel opens up our eyes to new experiences and unfamiliar cultures. Without that, my world has been feeling very small. I first went overseas in college and I immediately got the travel bug. I have been to a handful of countries, with tons more that I want to see. There are also so many places I want to see right here in the U.S. But that requires flying.

I was never scared to fly before, but now I am. I’m not scared of terrorists or of crashing. I’m scared of triggering a flare-up of my health issues. I’m scared of feeling sick while trapped in the air. And it’s holding me back.

The first years of my self-imposed ban flying were absolutely legitimate. Flying would have been horrible for me. Even car trips to New York when someone else drove were hard. I barely saw my grandfather in New York in the final years of his life, and that was brutal. We spoke on the phone often, but still.

But I realized recently that it’s no longer my health that’s stopping me as much as my anxiety. Sure, there are health issues too, but I think that I probably could have managed some travel in the last year or so. It’s time.

So over the summer I promised myself that this fall I would go someplace I haven’t been. But I’m not ready to fly. If I can’t fly and I can’t drive far, that means taking a train. Trains are pretty good for me, and I will write a separate post about my experience with Amtrak’s accommodations for folks with disabilities. Still, they’re limiting. I chose Philadelphia. I’ve heard good things, I’ve never seen the city, and it’s a reasonable train ride.

Not long after this decision I began seeing a therapist, and she encouraged me to try flying as well. I want to start with a very short flight, so Washington D.C. seems reasonable. I flew there once many years ago (the times I drove) and it’s super fast. I figured I would go to Philly first, then DC later. If those went well, I could build up, and maybe finally manage to visit friends on the west coast, see the Grand Canyon, and more! Maybe I could even visit my friend in England! But first things first: a train ride to Philly.

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Last week I saw the Liberty Bell!

This was HARD! Buying the train tickets took a lot of emotional strength. It was difficult to find an AirBnb in the neighborhood I wanted that was on the first floor. I thought through every aspect of the trip many times: what medications to bring, how to handle food, how to manage my limited energy. I was ready. I had planned. But I knew that things could fall apart at any time without warning. Should I really do this? Maybe it was all a big mistake!

Less than a week before the trip I had a bad night. My adrenals crashed, which happens sometimes, and it’s the worst of my symptoms. I was nauseated, fatigued, weak. I was shaking, crying, and scared. And I panicked.

I started to think, not for the first time but definitely more strongly, that I should cancel the trip. That was the last day that I could still get a reimbursement on almost everything. I could have a quiet week at home. Things had been so hectic. I was planning for an event that week. Yes, I had planned a full 2 days between the event and the trip so that I could rest and pack. That was plenty of time. The event wouldn’t be that tiring, it just took planning. Still, it was overwhelming. I couldn’t manage. I could cancel the trip and stay home and get shit done around the apartment. That sounded really nice!

Thankfully, I had a therapy appointment the next day and she talked me down. I cried the entire time. I was crying before we even started talking. I was a mess of fear and anxiety. I had put a ton of pressure on myself, because if this trip was a failure, I knew I’d be too scared to try travelling again. But I WANTED to travel. And if I didn’t try, I’d never know.

After an hour of talking, I felt better. Not great, but better. I would do this. But I was still nervous.

The next day, I felt confident again. I could do this! What changed? One thing: I felt better physically. My anxiety gets much worse when I feel sick. That makes sense, since my anxiety is about being ill.

For the next few days I slowly got shit done. I wrapped up things at home. I told myself I didn’t need to do it all. I went to the event. I had many days of low energy and I let myself stay home and rest. I cut more things off my to do list. I kept it to the bare minimum. Now, a full week after I got home from the trip, I still haven’t done some of those things, and that’s ok! 

The day came. I had packed the day before. I didn’t need to leave until noon, something I planned very intentionally. And I did it. I got on that train.

I will probably tell you about the trip another time, but the short version is that it was great! I didn’t do nearly as much as I would have liked, even given my health limitations. One day I was fatigued and couldn’t go out much. One day I was in so much pain I could barely walk. Still, I did it. And somehow, miraculously, I didn’t have any adrenal crashes! Almost as amazing (and probably related,) I spent the last 2 days with friends who ended up getting very sick, and I never caught their bug. Incredible!

I came home feeling like it was a success because I traveled someplace new and my health managed ok. That makes me feel much better about getting on a plane to DC. Not great – I’m still nervous, and when the time comes I might panic again – but at least now it feels doable. And while my grandparents are sadly no longer alive, I have several cousins and close friends in New York, and in a few months I will take a train down there to visit them.

Yesterday I went to therapy and she eagerly asked how my trip was. I was happy to tell her about my success. But honestly, even just going was a huge win for me, no matter how it turned out. I was scared and anxious but I went anyway. I’m proud of that.


Will today be the day to go outside?

November 20, 2018

On the one hand, I knew that going out 2 nights in a row might be too much. On the other hand, I thought I might be ready for it. And how would I know if I didn’t try? So I tried. And it could have worked. Could have, but didn’t.

Now, it’s not like I was out clubbing until 2am both nights. The first night I went to play board games, and got home just before 10pm. That would have been fine, except because I was out, I didn’t take my melatonin, and so I felt too awake to sleep. I ended up going to bed at 1am and only sleeping 6 hours. Yikes!

The next day I rested all day, then pushed myself to go out at night. I recently began volunteering for an organization I really care about. I do small things from home and attend meetings once a month. So far, I had only been able to attend by phone, but it was important to me to attend in person. So I went. I was tired, but once I was there I felt good! Still, I hadn’t finished the dinner I brought with me, and the small appetite should have been my warning. I got home before 10pm, but slept badly.

I knew I was pushing my limits. During the meeting I would occasionally cough. Just one little cough every 10 minutes or so, not the kind you get when you have a cold, but the kind that means I’m not breathing well. That’s because my lack of sleep the night before meant I hadn’t used my CPAP enough. After a second night of poor sleep, my sleep apnea was really causing problems. I woke up the next day feeling really blah. Was it my regular autoimmune stuff? Was I coming down with a cold? Was my autoimmune stuff preventing me from fighting off a cold? Only time would tell. I did the smart but boring thing – I stayed home all day to rest. So much for the errands I wanted to run and things I wanted to do around the house.

The next day I clearly had a small cold. Damn. I canceled my date and stayed in. Again. More tv. I wished I was reading a novel instead of an interesting-but-too-much-brain-power-required nonfiction book. I felt sort of queasy after eating, but not in the usual way, or in a really sick way. More in a my-body-is-trying-to-do-too-much way. Weird.

The next day I still had a cold and was still having mixed results with food. Time for more rest!

And each night I was sleeping badly. I was congested from the cold, so I kept having to take off my CPAP mask during the night. You know what’s worse than not sleeping? Sleeping without my CPAP. It’s true. I’d be better off staying awake. Too bad I didn’t. The exhaustion was crushing.

Still, after 3 days at home I was feeling better. The cold seemed to have cleared up much faster than usual. I took a short walk! I washed my hair! I put the pajamas and towels from the last few days in the laundry! I wanted to run errands, but figured I should rest. Instead, I cooked a nice but relatively easy dinner. I was on the mend!

Except after dinner I felt a bit queasy. And by 8:30pm I was falling asleep on the couch. I slept on the couch without my CPAP for half and hour (d’oh!) and then went to bed, where I watched a movie on my phone for an hour and a half. Finally I was able to sleep. And for once, I shut off my phone. The new Android update makes it hard to shut off all sounds, and too often a ding or a ring comes through, so I shut it off completely. Then I slept with my CPAP for over 10 hours! I can’t remember the last time I did that. 9 is a lot, but 10!? Unheard of for me.

I woke up feeling somewhat rested. But still tired. Still run down. I didn’t get out of my pajamas all day. At one point I was going to. I took off my bathrobe. Then decided changing clothes was overrated and went back to watching tv.

In the past 5 days I have crocheted a bunch of stuff, finished the book I was reading, and watched a ton of tv. I haven’t gone grocery shopping, gotten a haircut, brought in my phone to be fixed (there’s a problem with texting that really needs to be addressed), booked an AirBnb for an upcoming trip (I’ll get to that in another post), or done a bunch of other stuff that really needs to be done. I WANT to do all of that, but I just haven’t felt up to it.

And then today I woke up feeling…. normal? Normal-ish? I don’t know, but I definitely feel more like myself. I’m tempted to try going to the grocery store. I really need food. And I especially need the food I promised to make for Thanksgiving.

But I haven’t left the house other than that short walk since Wednesday. Today is Tuesday. And someone is dropping their dog off tonight for several days of dog sitting. She’s a darling and fairly easy, but I’ll need to walk her before bed and again first thing in the morning. I should probably save my energy for that. I want to go outside. I really do. The snow is pretty and the fresh air would be lovely. But on the other hand, I’m still a bit tired, so maybe getting out of pajamas and taking a shower will be enough activity for today.

My friends get a cold and they push through, continuing to care for kids and pets, going to work, running errands. I wish they would stay home so they didn’t spread their germs. I’m the opposite: I got a cold so I stayed in and kept my germs to myself, then had to deal with the autoimmune fallout and was stuck at home for another 3 days – and counting! It’s just one more of the countless frustrations that come with chronic illness.