Fears of Becoming Home-Bound

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I’m still struggling with bad neck pain. Yesterday it felt a little bit better, so I figured I would try to get out of the house for the first time in a while (other than ER visits). Unfortunately, once I got in the car, the vibrations from the car itself and the movement from driving kicked the pain back into high gear. I did at least make it to Wendy’s so my husband and I could get some dinner, but then it was straight back home because I was in too much pain to do anything else.

Honestly, after two weeks of these headaches and severe neck pain, I’m starting to worry this might be a long-term problem, just like my right shoulder blade and the arches of my feet. I’ve been incredibly depressed the last few days, partly because of the pain itself, partly because I can’t do much of anything, and lastly because I worry if my body continues to deteriorate at the rate it seems to be going, I may eventually become completely home-bound. I believe that all these chronic pain issues are mostly related to my Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which sucks even more because there is no cure for connective tissue disorders 😦

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I Hate Disappointing People

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You ever go to a doctor’s appointment and feel like you somehow disappointed them? That’s how I’m feeling today. I went to see my psychiatrist and while he didn’t say anything overly negative or mean, I just left with the feeling that somehow he was a little disappointed in me.

Perhaps I am projecting here, but I kind of feel like he isn’t quite as supportive as my other doctors about my going on SSDI. Not because he doesn’t think I have real problems and medical conditions, but because he seems to think I have a lot of potential and maybe he thinks if I get disability I’m just going to sit around and do nothing the rest of my life.

This may be partly my fault if he has that impression. After all, I don’t normally talk about all the stuff I do enjoy doing while there. I only see him every couple months for a short visit, so I tend to focus on what is going wrong, not what is going right. I don’t talk about all the art I make and sell or the books I write and sell. I don’t talk about my blogging. I don’t talk about all the people I correspond with on social media. I didn’t mention that I was recently made a board member on the International Board of Sensory Accessibility. I didn’t tell him about the art contest I submitted three artworks to this month. I don’t tell him about the online communities for chronic illness, chronic pain, autism, and other conditions that have given me a chance to support others and receive support myself.

I kind of wish I had mentioned some of those things now. Maybe next time.

My Four Day Migraine – Ouch!

Well, my one-day migraine from Wednesday turned into a four-day migraine that I finally had to go to the emergency room to get rid of this morning. They pumped me full of a bunch of drugs that did take the worst of it away, although I must admit I’m scared it will come back once those wear off. They did give me a steroid shot to help stop rebound migraines, so hopefully that will work.

I’m exhausted and somewhat depressed about the whole situation. I went at least a couple years with barely any migraines and then this just pops up out of nowhere. I can’t help but think part of it might be all the stress about my upcoming SSDI hearing. I try not to consciously think about it, but that doesn’t work so well for obsessive minds like mine.

I’m sure you guys understand that this will be a short post since I’m not feeling too great, but here is a picture of an extremely ugly, grumpy stuffed lion for you to enjoy:

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Rough Week, But Some Good News

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This has undoubtedly been a rough week for me so far, but some good things have happened too. Here is a short run-down of the last few days:

Sunday and Monday, one of our pipes froze because of the freakishly cold weather so we had no water until that section thawed out. Luckily, it didn’t cause the pipes to burst or anything like that. My husband thinks he solved the issue by replacing the insulation around the pipe, but I guess we’ll find out the next time we all freeze.

Yesterday I had my appointment with the rheumatologist to get my Ehlers Danlos testing done. I’m officially a zebra! Right now my diagnosis is Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos, although I do plan to try to pursue genetic testing to make sure none of the other EDS genes are playing a part. The doctor also highly suspected I have POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), which would help explain my dizzy spells, vertigo, feeling faint, and maybe even a few episodes of passing out when I was younger. It sucks that there is no cure or really even further treatment other than what I’m already doing, but it is wonderful to have some answers that finally make sense!

Tuesday I made the mistake of posting in a Facebook chronic illness group about my surprise that a zoo we want to visit charges $25 for the use of a wheelchair for a couple hours. Soon I was accused of being entitled, expecting everyone else to pay for my disability, and even being too poor to go to the zoo if I couldn’t afford the extra charge. The attacks got to the point that it actually made me cry because it hurt my feelings so much. I wasn’t even saying that the zoo had no right to charge for use of their equipment, I was just questioning whether the price was a bit high for the time it would be used. Of course, then I heard that some zoos and theme parks charge way more, some even over $100 a day! I can’t help but feel personally that is taking advantage of the disabled. Maybe I’m wrong, but I still feel that way.

Last night all this stress took its toll on me. I had the worse migraine I have had in years. Luckily, I still had some migraine pills from the last time I filled the prescription which was several years ago. They were technically expired, but still did their job. Today I have that slight headachy, hung over feeling I always get after a severe migraine.

 

I’m a High-Strung Mess

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I am currently a high-strung mess. As my SSDI hearing looms nearer and nearer, I find myself obsessing way too much over it and almost panicking about the fact that I feel powerless over what will happen in the end. I am trying to do absolutely everything I can think of to prepare for it and make sure we have good medical documentation especially, but that in itself is stressing me out because it means having to be assertive and ask for things from my physicians which I despise having to do. I HATE having to ask ANYONE for ANYTHING. It is just the way I am, but sometimes you have to do the things you hate…

I do not do well when I feel like I am not in control of a situation. My anxiety can’t handle the uncertainty and the endless waiting. I would almost rather deal with the worst case scenario immediately rather than be in limbo for months waiting for someone else to decide my fate. On top of that, I feel like I am annoying those around me (lawyer office employees, doctors, my poor husband) because of my intense anxiety state. I talked to a paralegal today and she told me to take a deep breath and relax lol. If only I could! I can do the deep breath, but the relaxing part just ain’t kicking in.

The heightened stress is taking a physical toll too, as it always does. My upper back/shoulder/neck area is flaring again to the point that I am regularly rolling on Lidocaine and had to take some Tramadol. The pain is so bad I can’t do any household tasks, which makes me feel bad too. Even typing this is painful and requires frequent breaks.

Now I feel like my whining is probably annoying all of you too lol. Sorry if that is the case, but I just needed to vent!

Poetry: Waiting for the Doctor

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Waiting for the Doctor
By: Maranda Russell

Perch on the edge
kick the drawers down below
lay back
wish I had a pillow
turn to the side
curl up in a ball
poke a hole
through the thick
tissue paper cover
read the poster
about acid reflux
for the 15th time
flip onto back again
count the ceiling tiles
12 in all
play with the blood pressure
thingy on the wall
stand up
run the water in the sink
look through the cabinets
hear doorknob start to turn
hop back onto examination table
try to look innocent.

Why Doctors Frustrate Me – Trying to Get Testing Done

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I want to begin this post by sharing a horrible dream I had last night. I was sitting in row G of a live outdoor show (my dreams are pretty specific sometimes), when someone behind me threw up all over my head. It was disgusting! I still remember the smell and feel of the vomit as it trickled down my face and hair. Ick! By the way, how do you “smell” things in a dream? I don’t know, but I sure did!

Ok, now that I got that off my chest, on to the main topic of this post. I am frustrated with doctors. Why? Because time and time again, I have had to fight to get testing that I feel is important, because many doctors tend to think I am just being a hypochondriac or overly anxious when I tell them I suspect a particular diagnosis.

However, time and time again, I have been proven RIGHT when I finally got the testing. C Diff, MRSA, medication allergies, asthma, CFS, fibromyalgia, costochondritis, pancreatitis, Aspergers, bipolar…all of these are conditions I highly suspected long before I actually got diagnosed, and yet, I had to fight to even get them checked out because doctors thought I was just being paranoid.

The most recent testing I am fighting for is Ehlers Danlos (EDS). I meet the major and most of the minor criteria for the condition, but have been fighting to even get a referral for testing. EDS is often comorbid with high-functioning autism, so that is what first made me interested in the condition. I am positive I score at least 6 or 7 out of 9 on the Beighton Score (higher on the Brighton Score).

I guess I can sum up this post in one sentence: Why is it so damn hard to get a simple test done???

Back Doctor and Pain Management Clinic Rant – Why So Insensitive?

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This is going to be a bit of a rant. Yesterday I received a letter from the orthopedic doctor and pain management clinic I was seeing for my upper back/neck pain. That letter turned my mood sour quickly. It said that I had been non-compliant with physical therapy and the spinal injections they had ordered, so they were kicking me out of the practice.

Why did it tick me off? Because the way they expressed it is totally not what we had discussed in person. First of all, I was not “non-compliant” with physical therapy. I tried it for several weeks and it WORSENED the pain rather than helping. It also caused widespread fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome flares throughout my body. This wasn’t the first time I had tried physical therapy, so I had been worried from the start, but they had promised they would accommodate my conditions, which they didn’t actually seem to do.

When I called the physical therapy office to explain that it was worsening my back pain and my fibromyalgia/cfs symptoms, they seemed understanding at the time. I was also having issues driving myself to therapy because when my back pain flares up, I can barely turn my head because of the neck pain. I asked the physical therapy office if I should perhaps try again in the summer when my husband could drive me, but the lady said that if the sessions were causing me that many problems, trying it again in the summer didn’t make much sense.

As for the spinal shots, the main reason I was fearful about going through with them is because they would not offer any kind of sedation. You see, I had been told how important it is for spinal injections that you be absolutely still during the process or you could cause damage to the spine. As an autistic person with severe sensory issues and intense over-sensitivity to any kind of sensory input (including pain), this worried me. I also have severe anxiety and that can sometimes make me shake and tremble involuntarily.

I had researched the shots and noticed that many other places offer sedation. I even talked to a few other people who had undergone the shots and had been sedated. I was not trying to be a pain or a drama queen, I was simply being cautious. Affording the shots was also a major issue at the time (since they required full payment up front), which I had explained to them.

In the end, I’m not upset that they were unable to further help me, I had already kind of figured that out. However, I am upset at the accusatory tone of the letter they sent me and the obvious insensitivity and lack of understanding for people who suffer from chronic pain/chronic illness and people who happen to have autism or other sensory processing difficulties. By the way, I will be sending them a letter back stating much of what I just said here. Hopefully they will learn something.

 

Psychiatrist Visit Update: I Hate Feeling Vulnerable!

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I figured I would do a short follow up post about my psychiatrist visit a couple days ago. It went ok I guess. Instead of switching me off the Prozac, he decided to try upping it one more time to see if that would do the trick, but promised me that if that didn’t make me feel better we would try something new next time. He did mention Wellbutrin as a possibility, which I have never taken. If anyone has experience with that drug, please let me know your thoughts on it!

The first few minutes of our visit, we talked about Netflix and the shows I have been binge watching recently (Black Mirror, Atypical, Stranger Things, American Horror Story). Then he asked how therapy was going, and I felt like at that time I needed to admit how bad my depression had gotten and that my therapist was actually worried about how low I was feeling.

My psychiatrist asked me why I didn’t bring that up immediately when our session started and he kind of jumped to the conclusion that I was trying to be “a good patient and not complain”, but I had to explain to him that his assumption was wrong. I wasn’t trying to make things easier for him, it is just simply hard for me to talk to anyone in person about how bad I really feel when at my lowest. It makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I hate that.

I know that last sentence may seem weird, considering the fact that I am so open and bluntly honest in my blog writing about how low and horrible I feel sometimes, but it is just easier for some reason to write that all out to a blank page and post it to the ether of the internet. Being in front of a living, breathing human, it is so much harder to peel the layers away and let my real self be seen.