My improved health: how I got here

February 16, 2015

A friend recently asked me what has helped me the most. I’ve thought about that vaguely from time to time, but this time I really considered what got me to where I am.

Three years ago I had left my job hoping to go back soon, and instead I found myself feeling steadily worse. I was house bound 3-5 days per week, on average. An afternoon with a friend would leave me barely functioning that evening and all of the next day. My memory was lousy, I was nauseated all the time, the fatigue was debilitating, and the pain was getting even worse.

Now, I only spend 1-2 days at home each week, and when I go out, it’s for longer stretches of time. I do more each day. When I’m home, I don’t feel as bad. The GI symptoms are almost entirely gone, the pain is mostly stable and an acceptable (for me) level, my memory is better (but not great yet), the fatigue has improved so much, and I can recover from an afternoon out pretty quickly. It feels like a miracle! But it wasn’t a miracle, it was a lot of hard work and a bit of luck.

I think what helped me was a bit of an insurance doctor, a lot of my naturopath, and a huge amount of me.

The doctor that the disability insurance company made me see encouraged me to see a sleep doctor. I had been thinking about it, but he nudged me more in that direction. I did sleep studies and started using a cpap machine, and it made a huge difference. For the first time in ages I was waking up feeling slightly better than I had when I went to sleep!

My naturopath did a lot for me. I was already gluten free, but she got me off dairy and helped me figure out the other foods I should avoid. She got me on various supplements that have been helpful (and some that weren’t, but that’s ok – it’s all trial and error, right?) She got my vitamin D levels up, improved my zinc levels, and found a multivitamin that didn’t make me feel ill (something have had problems with for many years.) She tested my adrenals and got me on supplements to help them. She guided me through every step of the process.

The luck was that I had medical conditions that could be improved. Not everyone is so fortunate, and I am grateful every single day that I had options, even thought I had to work incredibly hard to find them.

And then there’s me. When I was barely functioning 3 years ago, and the doctors were all telling me there was nothing they could do, I decided to at least learn a bit more about my situation. I picked up a book at the library, and that led to more books, blogs, and online support groups. Reading was slow thanks to the brain fog and fatigue, but I eventually learned that my hypothyroid treatment wasn’t the only option, despite what my doctor had said. I did more research. I learned which kinds of doctors I should see. I made many phone calls. I learned about naturopathy and researched naturopaths, eventually choosing the one that I see now. I went on a gluten-free diet. Later, I stuck to the more restrictive diet that my naturopath recommended. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. More recently, I cut out all trace amounts of gluten, like from lotions and from kissing someone who’s eaten gluten. Again, it isn’t easy, but I’m doing it. I’ve swallowed more pills per day than I’d like to think about. I’ve stressed about the financial cost of it all. I’ve fought with insurance companies and with doctors. When a doctor I’d waited months to see was unexpectedly out of the office and I was given a substitute (who was useless, by the way) I complained to the head of the office and got an immediate appointment with the doctor I wanted (who was incredible!) I pushed myself to do more than I wanted to do. When a doctor didn’t want to give me the hypothyroid treatment I wanted, I found someone new (and the treatment change was a good move!) I found a new podiatrist when I felt my orthodics weren’t right, I restarted physical thearpy, and I learned about trigger points. As I felt better, I moved on to new lines of research. I followed up every lead from books I read and from patients I spoke to. I like to knit, and sometimes, as you’re knitting along, pulling at the yarn, you’ll encounter a knot, and it’s hard to untangle it. I’ve been untangling the knot of my health conditions for the last few years.

The main thing I did was I ignored all of the naysayers. The doctors told me I couldn’t get any better. Friends and family thought I should stick with “traditional” medicine. But I stuck at it. I didn’t do anything that didn’t seem to have some solid research behind it. I listened to patient experience, but I didn’t follow up on anything unless multiple people had had good results, and then I was still careful. And all along, I knew it might be for nothing. I knew the doctors might be right and I might not get any better, but I held out a glimmer of hope, too.

I won’t pretend I’m perfectly healthy now. Or that I ever will be. I know that my health conditions are permanent. The best I can hope for is to go into remission, and even that is a long shot. But I’m trying.

Because I could have given up. I could have accepted what the doctors told me. I would now be bedridden, with no hope of any improvement. That could still happen some day. I know that. But I’m focusing on one thing: today is not that day.

I’m not suggesting that my story is one that can be replicated. I’m not trying to be inspirational or any of that other bullshit. I’m not pushing anyone to do what I did if they don’t want to. I’m simply trying to answer the question I hear over and over from friends and from readers: “How did you manage to improve?” I’ll gladly give more details if anyone wants them, but for now I’ll just say, it was a bit of luck, a fair amount of searching for the right medical providers, and a whole lot of effort by me.


What a difference a parking spot can make

February 6, 2015

I should be out doing things today. I should at least be doing things around my apartment. Instead, it’s noon, I’m in my pajamas, and I’m having trouble finding the energy to do anything remotely useful. Why? Because of parking problems.2015-01-28 08.31.11

Parking is a problem in a lot of cities. It’s so inconvenient that I briefly considered going car-less a few years ago, but the reality is that there were just too many days, even when I was healthier, that I could walk to public transportation. So I kept my car. Which means I always need a place to put my car.

Boston has gotten a lot of snow recently – about 40″ in the last two weeks. And we’re do for another foot or two in the next few days. In a city of narrow roads, this greatly restricts parking. My neighborhood has parking on both sides of the street normally, but right now there’s only enough room to park on one side. That means that every time I drive, I worry about giving up my parking space.

Two days ago, I came home tired, then spent 1/2 hour looking for a parking space. By the time I got to my apartment I was too tired to cook dinner.

Yesterday I decided to take the bus instead of giving up my parking space. I took the bus, walked, walked more, took the bus, and took another bus. I was exhausted. I did everything I needed to while I was out, but it was tiring. Then I waited for the last bus for 30 minutes in wind chill temperatures around 10F. That didn’t help. Again, by the time I got home I was too tired to cook dinner.

Today I’m resting. If I had driven yesterday, I’d probably have the energy to do the few things I’d like to do today. I could go to the post office, cook, and generally feel decent. Instead, I feel lousy. And why? Because I didn’t want to give up my parking space.

I’ve thought about moving several times over the years, but this may be the last straw. It may be time to move now. I’ve tried to put up with the parking stresses, but last week I didn’t go out because of it, and that wasn’t good for my emotion health. This week I did go out and it wasn’t good for my physical health. Shouldn’t I live someplace where I can go out when I need to and come home when I need to? (By the way, parking can be tough even when there’s no snow on the ground. The snow just makes it that much harder.)

So I’m looking for a new apartment. In fact, that’s what I was doing when I took the bus yesterday. I’ve seen a couple places that are close to what I want, but not quite. I’m still looking. It’s a tough market, so please wish me luck!

And hopefully, by next winter, I will have an apartment with my very own, off street parking space. Oh, what a luxury that would be!


Could a new pain be isolated?

January 14, 2015

Sitting at my computer has become more painful, now that I can’t find a comfortable position for my foot. I didn’t fall or trip or do anything else to it, but one day it started hurting. Usually my pain is in joints or in more “common” areas like my back and neck. The top of my foot was a new one. So I waited for it to away.

But it didn’t go away. I meant to mention it to my new podiatrist when I went to get examined for new orthodics, but I was so excited about the orthodics that I forgot to mention it. When I went to pick up the new orthodics 2 weeks later, I still had the pain, and this time I remembered to mention it. She said that the area I’m pointing is actually related to joint. Immediately, alarm bells went off in my mind. A joint?? Could I really have a new joint acting up?? She explained that there was a ligament there that had probably gotten stretched too far some how. She said it should fix itself within a few weeks, but it had already been a few weeks. The next step would be to immobilize the foot. Um, no thanks! Well ok, I might have. But first she wants to see if the new orthodics help. I sure hope they do!

But in the meantime, I’m left to wonder if this new problem is isolated or if it’s part of my connective tissue issues. It’s possible that it’s isolated, right? Right? I mean, if an otherwise-healthy person can have this problem, then I can too, right? Right?

But it’s also possible, even likely, that it’s an extension of the pain that I already have in my wrists, toes, knees, fingers…. Every few years I get pain in a new set of joints and it doesn’t go away. It can’t be “healed.” I haven’t had any new joints join the list in several years so I’ve been lulled into thinking this might be it. But I should know better. Despite all of my hard work and all of my improvements, I still have the same autoimmune diseases, whatever they are, that caused the problems in the first place. I’ve always assumed that sooner or later all of my joints would succumb to this. I just hoped it would be later rather than sooner. And when I pictured it, I didn’t picture this particular spot of pain that I never knew existed in relation to a joint.

This isn’t the end of the world. Actually, in my world, it’s relatively minor. The pain isn’t actually what’s bothering me at this particular moment. What’s bothering me is that I don’t know how to proceed. If the orthodics don’t help (and with my luck, they probably won’t) then should I bother to immobilize the foot? That wouldn’t be good – I wouldn’t be able to wear my new orthodics, it would throw off my balance, it would probably aggravate my hip, and it would be a real bitch to deal with in the cold, snow, and ice that come with Boston winters. And it probably wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. But then again, if there’s even the tiniest chance that it could help, that I might be preventing future pain, don’t I owe it to my future self to try?

Or would I just be deluding myself by thinking there was a chance this could possibly be an isolated condition?

Sadly, it’s a situation that we with chronic illness have to deal with far too often. Every pain, every extra-tired day, every ear infection or sore throat or sneeze or…. we have to question it all. My foot is simply today’s question.


Vagina vagina vagina

January 9, 2015

I ate an incredible chocolate chip cookie today. It gave me a lot of pleasure. It was just delightful.

I’ll get back to the cookie in a bit.

Like many people, I have two hands, two eyes, a mouth, a liver, two lungs, a heart, two legs, and many other body parts including, yes, a vagina. So if I can talk to a doctor, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger about pain in one of those other body parts, why is it considered taboo to discuss pain in my vagina or any other body part involved in procreation?

I don’t personally have vaginal pain (aside from the occasional yeast infection, etc.) but if we discussed these things more openly, it wouldn’t have taken me years to find out that the blood clots I got with my period weren’t normal. And while I don’t happen to have pain in my vagina, vulva, or related areas, plenty of others do.

The taboo seems to trace back to pleasure. Apparently, the problem with discussing vaginas and penises has to do with the pleasure we get from them. I got a lot of pleasure from that cookie this afternoon, yet it isn’t socially inappropriate for me to talk about my mouth. There’s just no logic to it. Apparently sexual pleasure is to be shamed while all other pleasure is acceptable, at least in my culture. But who does that help? I see absolutely no reason why that should be the case.

Many people of all genders express discomfort when discussing genitalia. I don’t get it. Every single one of us is here as the result of sexual organs. Think about it: would you exist if no one on the planet had a uterus? The vast majority of us are here because of a penis and a vagina, even if they never came into contact with one another. It amazes me how many men think vaginas are only for sex; unless they were born through C-section, they once came out of one!

Today I learned that a friend has vaginal pain. She had never mentioned it before, referring only to more socially accepted forms of chronic pain. She said she’d probably never discuss it again. But why should that be? And the topic of how pain in other parts of the body affects sex really needs to be a post all its own. If you have chronic pain, has your doctor ever asked if it’s had an impact on your sex life? Mine haven’t. But they should have. Every single one of them (in the appropriate specialties) should have!

So I’m saying it loud and proud: I love my vagina! It is as important a part of my body as any other (and more than some…. I’d give up an appendix or tonsils before I’d give up my vagina!) If you have pain or other symptoms in any body part that’s taboo to discuss, feel free to share it here. I will give it the respect it deserves, and I suspect most of my regular readers will, too. After all, it is as much a part of your body as your shoulder, your skin, and your kidney. So why not discuss it?

Which is why I titled this post the way I did. Let’s start with at least being able to say the word itself!