Mindfulness. It is just amazing how big of an impact our thoughts can have on our bodies, on our ability to heal. It’s important that you fill your mind with optimistic or positive, healthy thoughts and your life with all of the things that have always brought you joy, all of your hobbies, and the people who put a smile on your face.
Today’s technologies allow for incredible connections; there is a huge online presence of “spoonies” (as we call ourselves) all over instagram and facebook, both individual pages and group pages! This resource is a HUGE gift to those of us who suffer from severe illnesses that leave us homebound or bed bound with little to no social interaction, but there are cons to this as well.
When you surround yourself with individuals who are sick, and you are sick and have been for a long time, it begins to feel normal. You start to forget what it feels like to be healthy, to be a functional, productive person. When you start to feel that way you know it’s time to reevaluate your perspective, remind yourself of what makes you feel like YOU. Not sick you, not healthy you, but YOU.
Be mindful, know your limits physically and mentally. Will all of these posts from other sick chicks – some of them trending towards competitive over who is worse off, some who seem to thrive off of the attention from being sick – make you focus too much on the sickness? Does life revolve around illness? Because it doesn’t have to; no matter how sick you are, you are more than your illness.
There’s a lot more to mindfulness than this, but it’s a start. I encourage you all to focus not on your illnesses, not on symptoms and treatments and bad doctor visits, not of scary unknowns and dooming diagnoses, but on all of the aspects of your life that were there before illnesses, that exist independently from illness, that bring you simple pleasure, joy, distraction, love. Positivity. Light.
In the past few months I’ve seen increased frequency and severity in my symptoms and even new symptoms coming to light. When I have flare ups or new issues I often become more aware of my current physical state, and ironically, while doing so, I usually think I’m better off until these harsh realizations, moments of brutality that shine a light on the fact that no, I’m not better, I’m actually worse, but I’ve just gotten used to being sick, used to this flare up that just never left, that became my new “normal.”
Though I’m used to high levels of pain, severe nausea, frequent migraines, fatigue, etc. when I wake up and have new symptoms or symptoms I’ve had before all of a sudden “amplified,” it can be super frustrating, discouraging – not to mention painful. But when these “flare ups” come about and decide to stick around for more than a day or two, the mind starts to wonder….
Is this a flare? Are these symptoms going to go back to “normal?” Is there something more serious going on?
Pain is a hard thing to talk about and understand because everyone has a different relationship with pain, everyone’s “scale” is their own – my 6 could be your 9 for example – and you can’t really know what anyone else’s is unless you’re living it. My pain has been a totally new phenomenon the last couple weeks, my body is searing, my head is killing me, it’s just relentless. This pain is different from my “normal” pain, though, so it’s kind of hard to compare them severity wise, it’s hard to simplify it to a word like “throbbing, stabbing, burning, etc.” or a number 1-10 – I’m in severe pain and discomfort all over my body and it won’t give me a break — I wish that were enough to figure out a way to help, right?
“What concerns me the most is the unknown….it is just too overwhelming to think about…”
When my symptoms cause me to be even more “disabled” than normal, when I can’t get up or out of the house for a week or more, I’m hardly able to be around others because of the pain and stimulation, and I’m sleeping excessively or unable to sleep at all, it can be hard to find motivation, hard to force yourself to get up and get going, doing something as simple as shower or change into fresh pjs…
“No one really explained to me the depth or the magnitude of that diagnosis, no one explained how serious and life changing this chronic illness can be….”
There are so many unknowns with chronic illnesses, and most of us learn all about that through personal experiences, not from doctors or even google doctor! Living with conditions that even doctors don’t know enough about can be scary, all of a sudden everything you know is just swept out from underneath you, you’re left with so little understanding and no control over your own body, your own life. This is all shocking, it’s devastating, and you have got to find a way to embrace it, conquer it, and grow right along side it, otherwise, it will break you through and through, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally, mind, body, and soul.
My name is Rachel, I’m 22 years old and live in Virginia. I have an incredible family and two dogs who are the light of my life, and I’m currently living at home on a “break” from college. I’m a recently self discovered artist, I love painting and photography, and I also have a blog. I love working out and swimming both competitively and for fun, my favorite places being Smith Mountain Lake or swimming holes in the rivers, I was born to swim 🙂 I also love driving the back roads with my music and the wind in my hair, I’ve always wanted a convertible. I plan to have a beautiful wedding dress; in fact, if there’s no husband by 35years old, I plan to go try on dresses and wear one because I CAN. I want to travel. I want to live.
I’m Rachel, I’m 22 years old, and I’m a chronic pain patient.
I’ve been sick for six + years, and I have a myriad of chronic illnesses that leave me feeding tube and central line dependent for all “food” and fluids, and with severe nausea and crippling pain every day. There are many days when I struggle just to leave my bed and walk around the small upstairs floor of my home. I sometimes go weeks without leaving the house aside from appointments or my mom driving me to see a sunset or flood or snowy site. I’m often unable to paint or work on my blog due to the pain in my hands and arms becoming overwhelming… I often can’t look at my phone or computer due to my sensory overload and my migraines.
As much as we chronic illness patients love to say that “our illnesses don’t define” us, in reality, symptoms like severe, crippling pain can leave you unable to move, unable to walk, unable to accomplish the simplest of tasks, including self-care/hygiene without the help of a loved one or a caretaker. It causes “painsomnia” aka insomnia caused by severe pain, which in and of itself can be debilitating. The pure exhaustion from being in such high levels of pain can also take over your whole self, body and mind, it can be a scary time if you aren’t able to get relief even just for a couple of hours a day.
I often tell people that I feel like this is a life sentence for the innocent. I feel like sleeping beauty, stuck in her tower waiting for her prince, but I’m stuck in my room and there’s no end in site. I’m the sick girl in the middle of nowhere, but I’m lucky to have parents who work so hard for me.
this is a life sentence for the innocent
Do you have children? Grandchildren? Siblings? Can you imagine watching one of them have a quick yet long term deterioration of their health, and left with daily struggles and little to no relief? Because you’re not doctors or pharmacists so I have trouble understanding why you get to determine who gets these meds and how much we can have….If you aren’t a doctor and you aren’t a patient or someone who has experienced this first hand, what gives you the right?
Last month my pain management doctor and I decided to change my pain management plan after 6 months of consistency, in part to my body’s ability to build up tolerances to medications with lightning speed and in part to the new restrictions on pain medications. With my high, high tolerances and severe, daily chronic pain, it can be extremely difficult to treat, and sadly, it’s about to get harder. Due to the acts of those who abuse drugs, most of whom are not even chronic pain patients, this battle to manage chronic pain and improve quality of life is becoming nearly impossible for those of us on this side of the crisis – those of us who use our medications as prescribed and take them only to help us function on the bad days.
It shouldn’t be so hard to get medications that can improve your quality of life, I struggle so much with that thought, why would they take away these medications when they can help us make life livable?
I hope that the government and the insurance agencies will one day realize how ridiculous this all is, and that they’re stealing whatever potential that I or any other chronic illness patients like me have for relief and a more “normal” lifestyle, taking away the ability to pursue my dreams and my goals without the fear of my pain becoming too much. In this process they’re also taking a doctor’s ability to do their job to the fullest extent right out from under them as they are no longer able to treat patients to the fullest extent or in the way that is best fit for that patient.
There are so many things I want to do in my life. Like any 22 year old, I have goals and dreams and desires, but I also live a life most people my age don’t even know exists, a lifestyle that most can’t even phantom. Sometimes I can’t even imagine what I would do with myself if I were to make it back to society, but I know I’d quickly pick it back up and value every day, every moment, more than any healthy person could.
It has been way too long since I’ve posted. I’ve been struggling with symptoms affecting both my mind and my body and I just haven’t had the brain power/energy to finish a post! My illness is a physical illness, but it stems from my brain and my autonomic nervous system so I have both neurological and physical symptoms, many of which are “invisible” to anyone who doesn’t know about them.
I’ve written before about how my Dysautonomia causes severe brain fog—this includes problems with word finding and sentence formation, short term memory loss, trouble focusing/short attention span, and a lot of day dreaming/zoning out. Right now my Dysautonomia is flaring because I had a virus and I’m not getting the full 2 liters of IV fluids I am supposed to get because of a back order that is in place due to the hurricanes that took out a major supplier in Puerto Rico.
Not only is this flare causing me to have extreme brain fog, but I’m having other symptoms as well such as falling asleep or losing consciousness while sitting or standing due to lack of blood flow to my brain. This is a common problem for those with NCS (one of the types of Dysautonomia that I have) but it is not only terribly annoying and embarrassing, it’s debilitating and limiting because I can’t drive or plan anything that involves standing or sitting for too long, and it’s hard to be around other people because I can fall asleep mid-sentence or even worse, in the middle of someone else’s sentence! Let’s just say I won’t be going on any first dates any time soon 😉
Because of my flare of Dysautonomia as well as an increase in severity of my migraines, I also struggle with overstimulation or hypersensitivity to sound, noise, touch, and smell. Overstimulation is something that a lot of people would think of in relation to autism or ADD in children, but it’s something I, as an adult, struggle with every day. Any loud or repetitive noises or bright, colorful, or flashing lights can send me into a terrible episode of overstimulation that leaves me in full body pain and spasms as well as with a migraine that doesn’t respond to medication. Some days my skin hurts to the touch like there’s a bruise spread across my whole body. Before my diagnosis my family thought I was just crazy and picky about noises, but now we know my brain really just can’t handle a lot of these noises, lights, etc.
Winter is always a challenge for me because I deal with intense pain flare ups due to the cold, lots of migraines, and my GI system always gets even worse than normal once I hit November/December, this year just seems to be throwing a few curve balls at me with the neurological symptoms being so significant on top of the normal flares.
Luckily I’ve learned how to adapt and work around most of these symptoms so I’ve still enjoyed getting ready for Christmas and our Christmas day was lovely and (relatively) peaceful. It’s so nice having my family home for an extended break—having company and my care team here makes things both easier and much more fun J
I hope to start being able to use my brain a little more so I can update on some more things and also share more about my Newbie Tubies Project and how I’m hoping to get that going by the New Year!
Its really easy for my mind to go towards thinking about how my illnesses have stolen any predictability about my future; how they took me out of school, have forced me to accept that I may never have my “dream” job or may not even be able to work a “real job” at all. For someone who loves to plan and always wanted to know what was next, living in such uncertainty can be daunting. I fear living a life lacking companionship and never getting to fall in love or find my true soul mate, but then I’m reminded that my illnesses have brought to light so much in myself that I never would have discovered if I hadn’t gotten so sick in the first place.
Instead of focusing on the things I likely won’t be able to do, I’ve started to consider all that I CAN do. I’ve discovered so much about myself that I didn’t even know was there; I have new passions and I’ve discovered talents I had no idea were hidden within me until I got sick and I have a new understanding and a new level of empathy both for the people and the world around me.
Ive strengthened relationships with my loved ones and lost many people who weren’t able to stick by me through my trials, I’ve broadened my outlook and see things in such a new and brighter perspective, and I’ve found passions that give my life more meaning than just being the “sick girl,” no matter what my body has in store.
Although I can’t eat, I’ve developed a relationship with food through cooking meals for my family. I love creating new recipes and trying new techniques with home made goods. Some people are shocked by my love for cooking, but it’s something I’ve always loved and now it’s a way for me to “enjoy meals” with my family.
I’ve rekindled my passion for photography and developed a love for painting– this one I don’t think anyone would have expected. I’ve never been the artist of the family, and although I can’t draw anything, I do have an eye for color, and I’ve found some painting techniques that work for me. Because I’ve discovered these passions and because people (not just my parents 😉 ) started buying my paintings, it has given me hope that even if I can’t graduate from college or work as a full time behavioral therapist like I had hoped, maybe there’s something more out there for me.
I’m blessed to have a community here at home as well as through chronic illness support groups online that support me in every way they can. I’ve had so much support from my local community and I’m so so thankful for each and every one of you. I also have a truly amazing family that does everything from help me with medications/treatments, drive me places, and help with any other around the house/medical things I need and they also help me be able to follow my passions and set me up for success. Not everyone in my situation is so lucky.
Chronic illnesses are exhausting and isolating, they take away so many parts of our lives that we use to identify ourselves. If you’re going to survive it with some sanity, you have to make a choice to not let your illness be the only thing that defines your life– it is always part of what defines you, but if you don’t have other distractions and passions, you’ll just about lose your mind.
The past two weeks have been even more challenging than my “normal” for both my body and my mind. I had surgery two weeks ago to place a new/additional feeding tube and we ran into some challenges and now I am trying to heal and recover.
I’ve had to spend more time in bed since getting home from my surgery because I’ve been unable to move much on my own. For the first week I couldn’t sit up, stand, walk, sit down, go to the bathroom, brush my hair, or do anything for myself. Being 100% dependent on other people is really hard, regardless of the fact that I was already disabled and very dependent on my parents for so much even prior to surgery.
I have to admit that the first week or so post- surgery is all a blur. There was lots of pain, many doctors, a painful car ride home (or two), a lot of sleeping, medications, ambulance, pain, another ambulance, an awful ER, pain…. But what I do remember is that both of my parents were right there by my side the whole time. There was never any talk of hiring a nurse to do the hard work or asking another family member or close friend to come help so my parents could go back to work. Every day I had at least one if not both of my parents there taking care of me, no complaints or mention of using up their sick days.
For the first many days I slept 20+ hours a day with the help of pain medication, nausea medication, and sedatives, which all together helped make me more comfortable. After my ER trip on Monday/Tuesday I stopped taking the heavy pain medications because they delay gastric emptying so I also stopped sleeping and instead started having major insomnia again. By Wednesday/Thursday I was starting to walk on my own and eventually getting out of bed by myself, too. Although I run out of energy quickly and my pain levels are still severe, every step forward is worth a celebration.
Having such a supportive and involved family made all the difference for me; I didn’t have to worry about keeping up with meds or finding a good nurse or anything because my parents and sister were on 24/7 “Rachel Duty” for as long as I needed them. We also have an incredible community that supports me by sending cards, flowers, and gifts but they also support my parents at work and through facebook and texts/calls of support and well wishes. Being the parents and care takers of a young adult as sick as I am is no easy task and it’s extremely important to have that support.
Surgery is tough, but recovery is hell. Waking up each morning in major pain and knowing it’s not going away isn’t easy on anyone physically or mentally, but each small improvement or sign of progress gives me hope. Life is precious and every day that your body is functional and pain free is a gift; I encourage you to take advantage of every day and live life to the fullest, always follow your heart and do more of what makes you happy. Find joy in every day.
I’ve been dealing with dysautonomia since I was a teenager, really even longer before my diagnosis in high school. It started out with shortness of breath and heart palpitations before moving into full on syncopy and fainting spells and eventually complete autonomic dysfunction. Today, although my dysautonomia is in many ways managed better than it has been before, it still affects my body and routine every day.
Although my fainting spells have been minimized by doing twice-daily saline infusions, if you look deeper you find that my dysautonomia is still very much present. I struggle daily with common symptoms like dizziness, accelerated heart rate, and fatigue, but I also have symptoms that are less talked about.
I struggle with temperature regulation, being unable to stay warm if I go anywhere with a temp under 65-70 degrees, even if I’m bundled up and only there for a couple of minutes; this includes grocery stores, cars, outdoors, and my own house during the winter. Something as simple as changing my clothes can send my body temperature drops as low as 91 degrees F – hypothermia is 95 and below. I joke about my “hibernation” during winter, but it’s partially true, being that cold and unable to warm up is not a fun –or safe– feeling. On the other hand, if I’m fatigued or talk too much (no joke), I run low grade fevers and have to put myself in a “time out” to let my body rest and recover.
I also struggle from severe adrenaline rushes. My blood work shows high norepinephrine and dopamine levels which you would expect from someone who is overly excited or even scared, maybe from sky diving or being in a high speed car chase? Well, I get them from standing up or over exerting myself. When your body has to work extremely hard just to keep you on your feet, it sometimes goes into overdrive. These adrenaline rushes either leave me hyper during the day or up all night, but either way, I’m exhausted and weak when they’re over.
My dysautonomia has also contributed to my digestive tract failure and my chronic pain. Although I have other conditions as well, these are all comorbid and interact with one another making it harder to treat. I’m on 24/7 nausea medication and daily pain medication as well. I struggle with daily migraines and occipital neuralgia. I rely on tube feeds and IV fluids to keep me nourished, hydrated, and able to stand up without passing out.
Although there are many other symptoms I struggle with, these are just a couple that are currently having a big impact on my life.
Dysautonomia is an umbrella term for a multitude of conditions and needs more research and awareness. There are way too many people suffering from this condition who deserve treatments and a cure, but we have none.
To each of you reading this, thank you. Please continue to read, share, and educate others on these conditions so that one year we can write about the cure.
In December of 2013 I was diagnosed with gastroparesis. Like majority of people, I had no idea what that was or what the diagnosis meant for my future.
When I got my diagnosis I was given minimal information about the condition, and because I didn’t know what it was back then, I didn’t know I wasn’t getting the full picture. I was told I had delayed movement in my stomach, it wasn’t emptying food like it should be. They told me gastroparesis is a chronic condition but since mine is what they call “idiopathic” or without findable cause, it was likely post-viral and would go away within a year or 18 months.
This discussion, my original gastroparesis diagnosis, lasted only minutes, and I was left to figure out most of it on my own. My parents and I left that hospital thinking I just had to get through this flare up and then it would hopefully go away for good. I had no idea on that day 4 years ago just how much gastroparesis was going to change my life.
Since my diagnosis in 2013, I have had countless tests and tried endless treatments, medications, diets, and therapies. Gastroparesis is extremely difficult to treat and there is no cure. In 2016 we found out that my dysmotility (movement disorder) had moved into my intestine and colon as well, so that became a major complication. Luckily at this point my parents and I had become experts on my conditions; after my original diagnosis we started to learn how to do our own research, we joined online support communities, and we went to see specialists who could give us more information about my conditions and prognoses as I was diagnosed with more conditions down the road.
The journey you go through when living with gastroparesis and generalized dysmotility is extremely taxing on both your body and mind; it’s exhausting and disappointing to try and try again and often get little to no relief. But, we have to keep trying in hopes that one day we will find the right treatment and hopefully a cure.
As part of awareness month, I want to give you a glimpse at what it’s like going through testing and treatment with gastroparesis, so I’m going to list some of the tests, procedures, and treatments I’ve tried over my time with GP.
I was originally diagnosed with an Upper GI series, an endoscopy, and a 90 minute gastric emptying scan. Since then, I’ve had 3 more 4 hour emptying scans, multiple endoscopies, countless EKGs, lots of ultrasounds, endless x-rays, a breath test (SIBO), esophageal manometry, anal manometry, smart pill test, CT scans, MRIs, and so much more. And these are only the tests that have to do with GP—not my other conditions.
I’ve tried physical therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy, acupuncture, dry needling, chiropractors, and essential oils. I try keeping up with walking and core strength and I keep a positive mind set—no one can tell me I’m sick because I’m depressed! 😉 I’ve even read mindfulness books and watched documentaries on how to “heal your body,” although I wasn’t 100% sure about that one!
When I was able to eat, I’ve also tried a lot of diet adaptation. I was on the BRATS diet, low FODMAP diet, gluten free, dairy free, a gastroparesis diet, a liquid diet more than once, and I’ve been on both TPN and tube feeds. As of now I am completely dependent on my feeding tube for nutrition and my port for IV fluids daily.
I stared with a picc line for TPN, then I had an NJ tube for a trial run with tube feeds before quickly deciding to have a GJ tube placed surgically in March of 2015. Since then, I’ve had my tube changed out over 26 times in IR due to either clogs, having it flipped into my stomach, or just needing a new tube (every 3-5 months). I also had a port a cath placed in August of 2016 and have that accessed 24/7 for fluids and nausea medication.
I won’t even list all of the medications I’ve tried because that’s just a ridiculous number and I don’t think you or I have the attention span for that. But you name a motility agent, a nausea med, a non FDA approved trial drug for GP, or pretty much anything used to control symptoms or promote motility or hunger and I’ve almost definitely either tried it or discussed it with my doctors and ruled it out as an option.
Over these (almost) four years I went from being able to manage my symptoms with a specialized diet and nausea medications to not being able to eat at all. Gastroparesis and generalized dysmotility are cruel illnesses, and paired with my genetic condition, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, they’re relentless and grievous. My condition has progressed to a very serious level and I’ve tried most of the options available to me.
Almost a year ago I saw my motility specialist at Cleveland Clinic, a man who is considered to be the best of the best, and he gave me three options. We’ve ruled it down to one option, but sadly insurance isn’t thrilled with it. 9 months later and we are still fighting for it. But we won’t give up. Gastroparesis won’t win this fight.
Happy Awareness Month! Keep your eyes out for more posts from me and others as we try to spread awareness and work our way towards a much needed cure!
Yesterday I got a new diagnosis. But in all honesty, a new diagnosis doesn’t phase me much anymore. When I was 16 I got my first diagnosis, Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), but I had no idea that 5 years later I would have more diagnoses than I can count on both hands.
In 2016 I was diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, a genetic condition that affects connective tissue and collagen in your body. For me, this diagnosis explained a lot. I had already been diagnosed with Dysautnomia/POTS/NCS as well as Gastroparesis and generalized dysmotility in my colon and intestines. I had been struggling with unexplained chronic joint and nerve pain and I finally had an answer; although EDS wasn’t an easy answer and it meant I will likely never be completely free of illness, I finally had answers.
You probably won’t understand this unless you’re chronically ill, but after receiving that diagnosis, the ones that followed haven’t been surprising to hear or hard to accept. EDS has a lot of co-morbid conditions, and as mine has progressed and as I’ve seen more specialists, I’ve collected a nice array of conditions. Because I know my illness and understand what it can cause, I’m prepared for all of the co-morbid conditions it can bring on.
It’s never good news when I get another diagnosis, but I like to think that a diagnosis simply means we are moving forward towards treatments and answers, it doesn’t actually change anything symptom wise. I’m the same as I was before the diagnosis, I just have more answers and another syndrome/condition on my records. Usually a diagnosis actually brings me more relief because doctors actually start treating a conditions once it has a label and is no longer just unexplained symptoms.
I don’t mean to minimize the severity or seriousness of chronic illness; every illness I have I take very seriously and we treat each to the best of our ability. But after being sick for so, so long and being diagnosed with so many things, there is a desensitization to the process. Maybe it’s a protective mechanism, a coping mechanism, or maybe it’s just because it becomes your life, but just because I’m progressively ill doesn’t mean I have to let each diagnosis set me back.
Nine months ago my motility specialist gave me three treatment options. My digestive tract paralysis had progressed from my stomach into my intestines and colon and there just isn’t much they can do for that.
Option one– a specific medication –was quickly ruled out due to risks with another condition I have and the third option is not doable either, so we were left with one option.
Our one treatment option was IVIG therapy, or IV immunoglobulin therapy. This is a treatment that focuses on rebooting the immune system and can sometimes help reset some of the issues with the central nervous system. It’s used to treat immune deficiencies and other conditions that can lead to a weak immune system. For me, the goal is to boost my system in hopes that my digestive tract will be positively affected. There are no guarantees and it’s only about a 50/50 chance that it would make any difference at all for me, but it is our best and only real option right now.
It’s been nine months since we put the prescriptions in for that and I’ve been denied by insurance twice. My illnesses aren’t on their list of conditions that require IVIG for treatment and each round of IVIG costs $10-15,000, so it’s not easy to get approved for patients like me.
That said, this is my only option for treatment that may help me improve, not just keep me comfortable. Even if all it does is help me tolerate my tube feeds better and have less pain or nausea, it would be a huge victory. This is what my doctors think I need. So being denied the opportunity to try it is really upsetting; sadly, we see this happen a lot in the chronic illness community.
Our medical system is a money making business, so a lot of medications and treatments take pre-authorization, out of pocket co-pays, repeated appeals, and some are not covered at all. But for those of us with severe, chronic and progressive illnesses, this can make it hard for us to live any semblance of a “normal” life.
I am so thankful to have good health insurance, but the hoops I have to jump through and the delays in my care are extremely frustrating at times. My parents and I spend hours each month calling the insurance agency and calling doctors and pharmacies to advocate for the treatments I need. I’m lucky to have people who fight for my care when I’m not strong enough to do it myself, not everyone is that blessed.
If our doctors prescribe us a medication or treatment option that they think is vital to our health care, insurance agencies should not be so quick to deny it. The lives and well being of patients should be the first concern of every part of our medical system.