You put orange juice in this?!?

May 13, 2013

I appreciate when people try to accommodate my food restrictions. They go out of their way to make sure I can eat their food, and it means a lot.

Unfortunately, some people don’t take it as seriously as they need to.

Here’s the thing: some allergies kill, some don’t. But all allergens need to be avoided.

So sure, eating beets or peanuts won’t kill me. But I’ll be pretty damn miserable for a week or more. I could have increased pain and increased fatigue, and I’ll definitely have all sorts of horrible digestive problems. So even though I’ll survive, that’s still some pretty rotten stuff that I’d rather avoid.

I’ve done pretty well in restaurants. I don’t go out to eat often and when I do, I make sure the waiter really understands my needs. So far, so good. Unfortunately, eating the food that friends and relatives prepare hasn’t gone as well. In fact, I’ve gotten sick several times. There have also been a few near misses.

A good example of a near miss was this weekend. We were having a lovely family meal. B had gone to great effort to prepare everything. He told me all of the ingredients, to be sure I could eat it. It all sounded fine except for one sauce, which he kept separate. I was thrilled. Later, as he was getting it all ready, I asked him again about the ingredients. Again, it sounded fine. Then while we were eating, someone else asked how he made it so they could copy it themselves. He ran through the preparation, and then mentioned what made it so great – the orange juice used at the end. Wait a minute, he didn’t tell me about any orange juice! I froze with food on a fork halfway to my mouth. I must have said something, because everyone looked at me. I’d already eaten several bites. Oh crap. He shook it off with, “It’s only orange juice.” I was horrified! As it turns out, it was a freshly squeezed orange, so I was ok. Store-bought orange juice would have been a problem. But he didn’t know that. He just assumed it was fine for some crazy reason. Or maybe he’d forgotten it earlier and he was trying to cover his tracks. Either way, I was really insulted. Here I thought he cared enough to work around my food allergies, and he’d left out an entire ingredient that didn’t seem important to him. This is the second time he’s done this. Once could have been a fluke, but twice is the start of a pattern that I don’t want to continue. I know he’ll be insulted when I don’t eat his food anymore, but my health is more important then his feelings.

I think that’s the important thing that so many people don’t seem to understand. My health is more important than their feelings. So if they suddenly realize they’ve forgotten to tell me about an ingredient, I’d rather they just say it than to wait and hope it’s ok. That’s happened with others who’ve cooked food that I’ve eaten. And it’s not ok. And if I say I can’t eat it, that’s not a comment on your cooking ability. It’s that I’d rather not spend the night doubled over in pain because I chose to eat something with a peanut sauce in order to keep you happy. Why is this so hard to understand?

Some of these incidents have turned out badly. I’m just thankful this last one was ok. I’m in the middle (or hopefully beyond the middle) of a bad downturn, and it’s kicking my ass. I’m pretty sure that eating the wrong foods right now would be a very, very bad move. Which is why for a while at least, I won’t be eating anyone else’s cooking.


I simply forget to complain

May 5, 2013

The other night was a really really bad night. It was one of those nights. You know the ones. They feel endless. Time stops. Nothing helps, yet you know that somehow it will get better.

For me, it was a triple whammy. First, I was dealing with nausea and diarrhea. As I have mentioned in many posts before, I finally found a diet that seems to have healed my leaky gut and I almost never have these symptoms anymore. It’s been truly life-changing! So I don’t know where these came from. Second, I was having trouble breathing. This had been a problem all day, but when I tried to lie down to go to sleep, it got worse. Maybe this had to do with the new med? Finally, I wasn’t at home, I was at my parents’ house. This meant I couldn’t just pop in my go-to feeling-like-crap movie to distract me. It was a very very bad time.

After 2 hours of laying down, then sitting up to help my breathing, then laying down, then moving to the couch to try to sleep while sitting up, then going back to bed, all while sucking on Pepto tablets, I did finally manage to get some sleep. I slept fitfully, though, waking up often, and around 7am I finally gave up altogether.

The next day, I acted like it was a normal day, even though I felt like shit. I didn’t mention anything until late in the afternoon when my father asked how I was. He had been awake when I was roaming the house, trying to get comfortable on the couch. I hadn’t said a word to him that night, so he knew something was wrong. Plus, I don’t usually sit alone in a dark room for over an hour. I gave him a basic summary.  I didn’t think much of it, until I noticed my brother-in-law was paying attention to what I said. And then I wondered how it sounded to him, since I’ve never really spoken to him about any of my symptoms, and I hadn’t mentioned anything that day. No one else knew I had been ill the night before. I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just didn’t think to mention it. What was the point? It was over, and I was on the mend.

That night I was on Facebook, reading posts in the many thyroid-related and pain-related groups that I belong to, and I noticed multiple people commenting on the friends who get tired of listening to them talk about their illnesses. It made me wonder, not for the first time, what it is that people say.

Now, it’s not that I don’t speak about my illnesses or my symptoms at all. Of course I do. I suppose there are a few differences for me compared to what I read. I just have no idea what the reality actually is for others. For me, though:

  1. I don’t talk about it every day.
  2. Mostly I only speak about it when it effects plans with a friend, etc. I’ll say I have to cancel plans because I don’t feel well, or that I need to change things to be more sedentary because the fatigue is bad. But I rarely bring it up out of context.
  3. Except for the worst times, I intentionally try to balance things. When I hear myself talking about my health stuff a lot to someone, I make a point of then asking about their lives, and focusing on what’s going on with them. (I learned this lesson the hard way from a friend many years ago. But I did learn from it, which is why she’s still in my life and is reading this on Monday morning at work while she sips her coffee, I bet. *waves*)
  4. My symptoms came on gradually over many years. It’s not as if I had a particular life and then I woke up one day and everything had changed. Instead, the illnesses slowly eroded my life, so the changes were less startling, and therefore weren’t “news” the way they are when there’s a sudden onset of symptoms.

Do I complain? Of course. Do I whine? Occasionally. But mostly, I forget to bring it up. This crap is such a huge part of my life, that it almost feels normal. It’s sad but true. So I forget to talk about it most of the time. And that’s why I can’t imagine what it is that others say about it every day. I’m just curious. What is it you discuss with your friends and family regarding your illness(es)?

And for the times when I really just need to bitch about the unfairness of it all, well, this blog is great for that!


A cathartic cry and Mom

March 20, 2013

It’s not like I haven’t thought about writing in the last two weeks. I’ve actually wanted to write here more than that one post. But I just couldn’t.

Last month I wrote about the latest disability insurance bullshit. After that delay, I got a bit depressed. I wasn’t thrilled about the depression, but I also wasn’t worried. I’ve experienced it before. It wasn’t too bad, and I knew it would go away once the insurance stuff got settled.

Cathartic Cry

Then last week I found out about a new delay. Now it looks like I should have an answer in April. Maybe. I had just gotten the notice from my landlord saying that I had to either renew my lease or give them notice. I had just gone to the bank to change my accounts, because I can no longer meet the minimum. All sorts of other things depend on this insurance decision. And it was delayed. Again. Still. More.

I was really depressed after that. I cancelled plans that I had been looking forward to for a long time, and I sat home alone in my apartment. I had no desire to go outside. I didn’t want to do anything. I dreaded seeing my friend the next day. She didn’t know the whole story. I didn’t want to explain it. I couldn’t explain it. But I also couldn’t have a happy, cheerful, pleasant visit.

Then I thought more about the way the insurance assholes are treating me like shit. They’re acting like I’m not a real person. They’re taking away from my focus on my health (ironically!) My health has suffered because of the stress of this. I was just starting to make real progress, and this bullshit has led to a backslide.

And I suddenly knew I needed to cry. I had to get it all out. I called the one person I really wanted to talk to: Mom.

I got her on her cell phone. She was on her way to a nice dinner party, so I tried to tell her we could talk later, but she heard it in my voice. She insisted we talk. What a mom! I sobbed on the phone to her for a long time. Yes, these were full-out sobs. I told her my frustrations, my anger, my fears. She listened and somehow she said all the right things. She supported me.

After that call I felt much better. It was the first time I’d cried about this insurance crap, and I really needed it. I was exhausted, but I felt lighter. I spent the night relaxing, and I chose a light-hearted, fun movie to watch before crashing early. The cry had really worn me out. The next day, I cancelled the long-awaited plans with my friend, and instead spent the day with my mom. The sun was out for a change, and we took a long (well, long for me) walk in a park I’d never been to. Fresh air, sunshine, trees, a pond, and dogs really cheered me up. Best of all, my mom is my best friend, and it was great to talk to her. Back at her place, we talked a lot. I helped her clean out her desk, which made her thrilled and made me feel useful and productive for a change. We had dinner with my dad, and then the three of us sat around talking about all sorts of things that had nothing to do with my health or with insurance. Like “normal” people. It was relaxing and lovely. I left their house feeling like I could handle things again.

I won’t say that my depression is gone, but it’s a hell of a lot better than it was a few days ago. Sometimes all it takes is a good, cathartic cry. And mom.


“A great doc, but you didn’t hear it from me”

December 6, 2012

Our medical system is seriously fucked up.  I’m sure this isn’t news to you (and if it is, you can start learning about it here and here.)  Now, I know that some parts of it work well.  I used my new health insurance for the first time today, and that was great.  But in so many other ways, it just doesn’t make any sense at all.

What do you think is the point of healthcare?  Personally, I think it is to maintain good health, and to achieve improved health when needed.  Unfortunately, healthcare here is a business, so to the people in control, it’s about making money.

I saw my rheumatologist today, and of course at one point we talked about how I need a new endocrinologist since my old one dumped me.  He didn’t like that I require so many expensive tests, so much effort, and so much insurance-related paperwork.  I asked my rheumatologist for her advice.  She confided in me that there were a few in her hospital system that I should stay away from, and she asked me not to tell anyone that she’d said that.  Ok, I get that.  She shouldn’t bad-mouth colleagues.  No problem.  I would never say a word.  No one should bad-mouth a colleague – it’s bad etiquette – but when it’s a matter of someone’s health, it’s worth it.  All good, right?

But then she considered things, and finally told me about a center at another hospital that specializes in thyroid work, which is what I need.  She said multiple times “but you didn’t hear it from me,” and I assured her that I would never let on.  If I thought that writing this would in any way haunt her, I’d never write a word of it.  The last thing I want is to hurt someone who has fought on my behalf many times, helped me immensely, and gone above and beyond.

So here’s why I’m upset: why should a doctor get in trouble for telling a patient about a treatment center that could help them?!?  Think about that.  She would get in trouble because she suggested that I go to a different hospital.  She is not telling me that her hospital sucks.  She is not telling me to leave her practice.  She is not treating me badly. On the contrary, her primary concern is my health, and for that reason she is suggesting that I see the practitioners who are most likely to help me improve my health.  Once again, her focus is on my health!

And that’s why our system is completely fucked up.  Because a doctor can get in trouble for helping a patient improve their health, if it means sending the patient (and therefore the patient’s money) to another center.  Wrong wrong wrong.

So while we’re at it, PLEASE let me know if you can recommend a good endocrinologist in the Boston area.  I will consider my rheumatologist’s suggestion, but I don’t know yet if that place will offer what I need, or if they’re taking new patients.  Please send any and all suggestions.  I need someone who does thyroid work, especially Hashimoto’s.  Thanks!