Not Just a Patient

I am a person.

I may be sick, I may be a professional patient, but I’m also a person, but sometimes I feel like less than that when doctors, nurses, or insurance agents treat with disrespect, have biases against me before even seeing me or getting to know me, or neglect my physical or mental health because I am a challenging, serious case on the inside and a young, blonde, smiling 22 year old on the outside; invisible illnesses, especially in young women, often lead to many instances of mistreatment from medical professionals.

I’m almost never late to appointments. I have never missed, skipped, or forgotten an appointment. I email doctors with updates, questions, and reminders so that I can keep things going as efficiently as possible. I fill my meds, do my feeds, and try pretty much every alternative therapy suggested. I treat doctors with respect, no matter what. Not to sound stuck up, but I truly can’t think of much I could do to become a better patient, but honestly, that’s not my job in all of this. I am the patient, and I pay for these doctors to help me.

The idea of “doctors working for me,” is something I had never thought of before about a year ago when someone said it to me after I had a doctor say some hurtful things to me; I don’t work for the doctors, they work for me. They have no right to treat me with any less respect than they expect me to have for them or than they would have for another doctor, a friend, or a family member.

In fact, they should be treating me with great respect even if I’m not being extra outgoing or outwardly friendly. I don’t get paid to be sick. I don’t want to go to the doctor all the time. I’m often traveling hours to see them for just 10-15 minutes and they’re often not even able to help me or offer me anything new, so if I’m upset or not talkative, it’s just out of disappointment and frustration with my situation.

But doctors have chosen to be there, to help people. They choose their specialty, choose where they work, what age they work with, and they get paid very well for what they do. But just because they get paid and because they went through medical school doesn’t mean they are better people or even that they know what’s right.

Having invisible illnesses is hard. Many of these conditions are rare and under researched, doctors in small towns and even doctors who work in highly respected hospitals but aren’t specialized just don’t know these conditions. I’ve been to endless doctors who can’t pronounce the names of my conditions, don’t know what they are or what the symptoms are, or think they know and insist they know but are downright incorrect.

Sadly, a lot of girls with conditions like mine deal with doctors being rude or curt, abrasive, neglectful, biased and judgmental, and even abusive. Whether doctors are just having a bad day or whether they think they can speak to us in hurtful ways just because we are young or pretty, appear healthy, or smile and laugh like “normal” people and aren’t bald or in wheelchairs 100% of the time, I don’t know, but I do know that their actions and words can affect us for a long time.

When we are treated so poorly by people we have put our trust into, it isn’t just upsetting for a moment, it often affects our ability to put our trust into doctors and the medical system in general. Sadly, the only way someone like me can live at all comfortably is by seeing a multitude of doctors and working very hard to find treatments and medications that help minimize symptoms. We’ve put our lives in the hands of these people, we literally cannot go on without them. There is no excuse for them to treat us poorly, but when they do, we lose trust for them and we lose what faith we had in the system.

Doctors can go home and take off their white coats and eat dinner with their families, never having to think again about how that day went or what a patient said or did, but we go home and have to deal with the consequences of appointments for days, weeks, months. We rely on doctors and nurses and insurance agencies not just to be alive, but to have any comfort on a day-to-day basis. It’s not an option whether or not to have doctors or treatments, so if we lose one doctor, we have to work hard to find another one who is as good or better and willing to take on a tough case.

Conditions like mine mean you sometimes have to be both patient and medical expert, which is frustrating and exhausting. I don’t ask my doctors for magical treatments or cures that aren’t out there yet, but I do ask them to treat me with respect and dignity. I’m a person, not just a patient.

Tips for Tubies: A Tubie’s Guide To Success Vol. 1

 

  1. The doctors work for YOU. Not the other way around. If a doctor (or a nurse, tech, or anyone else in the medical system) treats you with any less respect or dignity than you deserve, consider finding a new specialist.
  2. No question is a bad question. There are awkward questions and there can be a boatload of questions, but all of them are important. Ask until you’re satisfied, even if the doctor is acting rushed or distracted. Your health and confidence is more important than anything else.
  3. Some surgeons aren’t big talkers – they like to get the job done; make a list of questions and concerns and make sure to ask them the first time you see them pre-op/post-op or during your follow ups, it could be the only time you see them!
  4. Recovery can be even more challenging than surgery itself. Have people who will be around to help you or at least set up some people to come visit and check on you each day. Before surgery, set up a place by your bed or couch where you can keep some essential items so you won’t have to get up and down every time you need something.
  5. Don’t push yourself! There are no “shoulds” with chronic illnesses or tube feeding. If recovery is taking longer than planned, take some time off from school or work if you are able to! Learn that it is okay to say no when your friends want to go out to eat or get drinks late on a Friday night, if you feel cruddy or just don’t want to be around food, it’s okay to stay in or suggest a different plan. No guilt.
  6. Learn to advocate for yourself. It can be hard to really get doctors to understand what you truly feel and then to get what you need to be comfortable. Be persistent and thorough in explaining symptoms and how it affects your life. If you aren’t good at being forward, take a parent, spouse, relative, or friend who can help make sure everything gets covered.

 

These are just a few of the major tips for getting started with “tube life,” but they’re applicable throughout the journey with feeding tubes and really with any chronic illness. Learning to manage your case, advocate for yourself, and stay on top of appointments/doctors, questions, and treatments both past and present can be a big task, but staying organized and figuring out early on what methods work best for you to manage it all is really beneficial in the long run.

Keep your eyes out for more tips, the next round will be more tubie-specific regarding tube care and what to look out for vs what not to get freaked out over! 🙂

Thanks for reading and  I hope it was helpful! If you have questions or suggestions don’t hesitate to comment or message me!

 

 

Battling Gastroparesis: Happy Awareness Month!

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.

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Some more info about GP– symptoms especially! And yes, that is my tube and a donut tubie pad!

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Learning to embrace my medical devices 🙂 there should be no shame or shyness towards life saving devices like tubes and central lines!

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!

Xoxo

R

 

Desensitized to The Diagnosis

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.

A Word From Many: Ehlers Danlos Syndrome

As part of Ehlers Danlos Awareness Month I asked a large group of women with EDS to describe their journey with this condition in one word. Whether it be their most common symptom, an adjective that explains how their life has been affected, or an emotion that describes what EDS means to them, I just wanted to hear what EDS is to each person. I took all of these words and put them together to share in hopes that they will show how brutal EDS can be to so many people, but also to show the incredible strength that it brings to it’s sufferers and as a reminder that no one fights this alone.

So again, these words come from over a hundred different women– not just me! Many of the words were suggested by more than one person; the most commonly used ones are in the largest print. I don’t share these seeking pity, but because those living with EDS live complicated lives full of so many symptoms, emotions, and stressors that go unseen. Awareness month may be over, but every day we will continue to fight for better treatments, more awareness and understanding, and we will continue to fight for our lives.

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