Feeling a bit less pain

October 1, 2012

I’m trying to focus on feeling a bit less pain.  In general I’ve had plenty of good days, but I’ve also been having bad days.  On this blog, though, I’ve been focusing almost entirely on the negative aspects lately.  Of course, there’s a reason this blog is called Chronic Rants.  Yes, I like to rant.  Yes, I think that sometimes it’s necessary to rant.  But it’s also necessary to focus on the good parts too, to make sure we don’t just wallow in negativity.  I sometimes have to make an effort at that.

So today I’m thinking and writing about having less pain.  The pain really skyrocketed last month, thanks to the change of seasons.  I’m not sure exactly when this week the pain went back down to my pre-transition levels, but I love that it did.  I know that it might not last, but I’m going to focus on it while I can.

I think there’s a tendency, especially with a new symptom or a new diagnosis, to expect a complete “cure” of a particular problem, and anything less isn’t good enough.  Over time, that attitude changes.  When you’ve suffered from level 6 pain (remember that good old pain scale?) for years and then it shoots up to a 9 for a while, going back to a 6 feels great.  Sure, my fingers still curl more than I’d like, it’s hard to rest my hands palm down, and I can’t carry heavy things, but so what?  And the truth is, I had many years of pain at levels 8 and 9 on a daily basis, so I’m actually able to do a lot now, thanks to hydroxychloroquine, that I couldn’t do before.  I can hold a pen and write a full paragraph, I can hold a knife and cut vegetables, I can pick up a pot of water and pasta and drain it in the sink, and I can type with two hands.  This is fantastic!  Is it perfect by a “healthy” person’s standards?  Nope, far from it.  But for me it’s heavenly.

I have a lot more tough topics coming up, and I won’t shy away from those in my mind, in my heart, or on this blog.  But today, it feels good to focus on having a bit less pain and feeling a bit happier because of it.


The chronic illness-depression connection

September 28, 2012

A friend of mine does suicide prevention work.  And she needs your help.

From time to time I pass along information to my friend that I think might be useful.  Sometimes it’s a blog post, or a tweetchat, or just an idea.  Other friends do it too, to give her ideas for new angles.  Recently I sent her a blog post from someone else’s blog that I thought might be helpful and she wrote back and asked if I’d give my personal perspective on living with a chronic illness.  I’ve always been completely open about my health stuff when someone asks, but I don’t talk about it too much otherwise.  I’m not trying to hide anything, I just want to focus on things other than my health sometimes.  So when we met up this week, I found that first I had to explain what it really means to have a chronic illness.

We met up in person to talk about chronic illness and its intersection with depression.  This is an area that gets talked about a lot in chronic illness circles, but I don’t hear much about it in mainstream mental health care.  As it turns out, they do talk about it in her office, but she didn’t feel they’d examined it thoroughly.  So we talked for over an hour and we covered a lot of areas.  We talked about the depression that is a part of the illness, the depression that’s a side effect of medications, and the depression that comes from the pain, isolation, frustration, etc.

I talked about being told the symptoms are all in our heads, about the self doubt, and about not having a diagnosis for years or decades.  I talked about the strain it puts on relationships and the difficulty dating.  I talked about the lack of control over my present and the lack of control over my future.  I talked about rare conditions taking longer to get a diagnosis, but then not having support groups available after diagnosis because of the condition’s rarity.  We talked about chronic illness causing PTSD.  We discussed autoimmune-type diseases versus more well-known chronic illnesses such as heart disease or diabetes.  We talked about society’s judgment on us: society saying that we caused our illness or that we’re worthless because we can’t work at a job, etc.  We talked about stigma from government and from individuals.  I talked about our own feelings of worthlessness.  I talked about wanting to contribute to society in some way.  We discussed how hard it can be to connect with family and friends when we can’t do “normal” activities.  We talked about how hard it is to “keep a positive attitude” when the truth, the reality, is that things will not get better, and they will most likely get worse.  And of course we talked about the 5 stages of grief.

She was blown away by all of this.  When I talked about being in pain all the time until a few years ago, it became clear that she hadn’t realized that it was literally all the time.  When I talked about the relief of having a few minutes at a time without pain, she was shocked.  This is a woman who has always tried to understand, but she simply didn’t because no one had ever really explained it to her.  Now she’s learned a bit more.  And of course, she wants to help.  She can not help with the physical symptoms, but she can create practitioner trainings and outreach programs and also write on her blog in order to help our mental health.  And in return, we can help her.

So here’s where you can help.  I am only one person.  I told my friend about my own experiences and about those of some others in the community, but of course I can’t talk about everyone, nor should I.  Instead, I encourage you to talk about how your chronic illness affects your mental health and vice versa.  Write a line or 2 or 20.  Comment here, email me (msrants at gmail dot com) or write to me on Twitter (@CIRants) and I’ll be sure she sees it.  This is a good chance to assist someone who wants to help our community, so let’s give it our all!

Part of the email from my friend:

In my work, we do talk about chronic pain and illness in relation to suicide, but we haven’t done a thorough job of examining the issue, I believe because we’re not sure the best approach to take…. I’d love to talk with you about ideas/approaches for addressing this issue and possible interventions/programs. Or, if you know of folks you think would be good to talk with – people living with chronic conditions, health care providers, etc. who I should talk with, please let me know.


The joy and joint pain of autumn

September 18, 2012

I love autumn.  The heat and humidity of summer are gone, and with them a lot of my extra fatigue and other symptoms have gone.  And it’s pretty.  The sky is clear most days, the leaves change colors (they’re just beginning now,) and the air is crisp.  I’m happy every time I look out the window and see the lovely weather.  This picture is from last year, but you get the idea.

Of course, right now we’re in a transitional time.  Right now, summer is mostly over, but not quite.  And it’s mostly autumn, but not entirely.  We haven’t transitioned completely to the cool days yet.  Sometimes I’m hot in a t-shirt and sometimes I need a sweater.  It’s mixed.

And we all know what that means, right?  If you don’t experience worsening symptoms during spring and fall, then you’ve probably heard from others who do.  My rheumatologist says that her phone rings constantly in the spring and fall.

For me, spring is definitely worse.  My body seems to know that bad times are coming, with summer on the way, so it goes haywire.  But autumn isn’t the easiest thing either.  For the last couple of weeks, it seems to have manifested itself as worsening joint pain, especially in my fingers and wrists.  Now, I’ve had pain in these areas for more than 20 years, so it’s not like I can’t handle the pain itself.  What’s bothering me is that no movement causes stiffness, and small movements from fidgeting makes it worse.  Big movements are good, like washing dishes or cooking or sorting through a pile of books (as long as they aren’t too heavy.)  And the problem is that I just don’t have enough of these big movements to keep my joints happy.  I’m home a lot these days, so I’m open to suggestions for things I can do at home to keep my fingers and joints useful without using up too many of my spoons.  Typing on the computer or reading or watching tv all seem to be bad things for my achy hands, and that’s how I usually fill my days, so I’d love some new ideas.

How’s autumn for you?  Is it a rough transition, or is your body just glad to be out of summer?

Good luck during the changing of the seasons CI folks!  At least it’s pretty.


Good bye nausea, hello diet

August 15, 2012

Yesterday I said goodbye to the old diet and today I welcome the new diet – AT LAST!

There’s no doubt that the old diet helped – I felt soooo much better within a week of starting it.  But I think I could be doing even better than I already am.  And on top of that, I can bring back a whole lot of foods that I love (pasta sauce! popcorn!) and sure I have to give up a lot of foods I really enjoy (peanuts, broccoli, quinoa) but at least now I know that I’m on the right track.  Ok, sure, the tests aren’t 100% accurate, but it should be pretty damn close!

No, this won’t be easy, but what the hell is?  It’s WORTH IT!  I think that’s something that “healthy” people don’t understand.  A few have said to my face “Oh, I could never be gluten-free.”  To them, the option is to eat foods they love or to give up those foods.  To me, the option is to suffer nausea, diarrhea, abdominal pain, cramping, and fatigue on a regular basis, or to give up some foods that aren’t necessary for my survival.  When you look at it that way, it’s not much of a choice, is it?  So now I’ll give up a few dozen foods on top of gluten.  Some will be temporary and some will be permanent and I really don’t care – I’m just so glad to have a plan!

By the way, for anyone who’s wondering, the mold and herb tests came back with a few minor reactions but nothing much, and I only have one strong chemical reaction, so I’ll be checking all of my cleansers and nail polish (luckily I don’t wear makeup!) to make sure I’m not getting exposed that way.  For me, the big results were all in the food categories, which was really no surprise.

So now I want to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who has helped me.  My parents have been the most amazing, supportive people I could hope for.  Several incredible friends stood by my side offering advice and comfort.  My grandfather generously paid for the test when insurance wouldn’t cover it.  My naturopath suggested the test and went out of her way to get me a discount.  And so many readers have emailed, commented, and tweeted with advice and support.  Thank you everyone!  Let’s face it, in the CI world celebrations can be a bit too rare, so I’m thrilled to have a good reason to celebrate today.  This is only one step in the journey, but it’s a big one!