Posted in September

What Can I Do For YouToday?

Advertisements

What can I do for you today? It’s the standard greeting I find I’m met with at every doctors appointment, no matter the speciality. Perfectly poliet, open ended so therefore inviting me to dive in to the promblem that has brought me to their office. Expcept lately that is not how that questions makes me feel, it leaves me biting my sarcastic answer off of my tongue. Fix me, take my pain away, how about just stop my constant deterioation please and i’ll make do as I am but please press pause in the meantime. Let me correct myself, it’s not sarcasm, it’s truth, it’s honest words from a scared vulnerable person who wont utter them because I know the reality is the Drs are trying but their isn’t much they can do.

I was diagnosed yesterday with Trigeminal Neuragia, along with being informed they no longer expect the sight I’ve lost (the majority of it) in my left eye to return; I can see blurry outlines but I cannot work out shapes or distance. It was a bit of a hit emotionally as whenever I have had Optic neuritis before my sight has recovered fairly well, however this has been going on for a while now and if anything the pain has gotten worse behind my eye, it is incredibly intense. I’m trying not to dwell on this too much while we await my Evoked Potential results and wait for a date for my lumbar puncture test. Hopefully these tests will shed some light as to what is going on currently.

In the mean time I feel much like this blog; I am all over the place, one minute quite happy dealing with things as they come, the next frustrated that despite almost a decade of chronic illness a level of normality is yet to be reached. I’m still fighting against the current of deteriation. It may be as useless as trying to swim the wrong way around wild rapids but it helps to know that I am trying to do something to counter the every growing pill box.

Stock photo of pillbox

Posted in Archive, march 2020, September

Isolation Week 2

Advertisements

Although I only received my instructions to isolate myself for the next 12 weeks from the government on Monday, we had infact already been in isolation for a week as both myself and my partner Damon bad been symptomatic. Whilst I’m pretty much symptom free now, Dame is still locked away upstairs as he remains unwell. Whilst he would only be considered a mild case, it’s worrying none the less.

We decided early on that we would follow all instructions to the letter as we know how risky a simple cold to me can be. The symptoms I had last week had me reaching for my inhalers constantly. What hit home in particular for me was our two year old son is also on the shielding list due to his medical issues. Luckiky, as much as he desperately wants to go to the park, he’s quiet happy accepting, that there’s a nasty bug outside, so for now he can’t.

It’s hard however to follow the governments instructions when my partners in isolation. For example I’m not really supposed to be particularly near our children and supposed to be three steps away from everyone. Well with Damon isolated I’m the sole parent, and they are now both sleeping in our room. There’s no alternative. But we’ve got to make the best out of a bad situation.

I’m starting to experience more spasms and pain as my Botox wears off. My next lot is supposedly in London at the end of next Month which I’m expecting to be canacled. I’m hoping an alternative can be arranged at a local hospital in the meantime.

I would love to hear how everyone’s isolation is going. So please in the comments on my Facebook page do let me know. I’m aiming to keep this isolation diary updated daily either with blogs here or VLOGS on the Dystonia and Me page.

Stay inside. Stay Safe. Support our NHS.

Posted in July 2019, September

New Prime Minister New Fears

Advertisements

With every general election, and with every leadership contest, we get new a new prime minister. A new figure, each with their own agenda and view. When it comes to politics, my number one concern has always been for the potential impact that the candidate and party will have on the NHS. Many laughed when America elected Trump to the presidency and in my eyes I worry that the conservative party may have just followed suit.

During President Trump’s recent visit to the UK he stated that everything was on the table for a deal – including our NHS! Whilst Theresa May later retracted his statement, it is clear where Trumps eyes are focused for trade and both he and Boris Johnson made it publicly known that they are on good terms. Is Boris as brazen as to go as far as ignoring May’s stance and instead pursuing a US/UK trade deal which involves the NHS to a degree? Who knows but I for one wouldn’t be surprised.

So why such concern? As with any service, the NHS has its issues which is to be expected when it is incredibly underfunded and overstretched, however the NHS is a complete blessing. Without our NHS I could not afford my treatment: regular injections and medications allow me to eat, drink, swallow, see and communicate with others verbally. It is literally life changing. For many, such as myself, the possibility that the NHS could be impacted is a terrifying prospect.

Posted in Archive, November 2018, September

Zebra or a Horse?

Advertisements

When you hear hoofbeats its’ time to take pause,
Remember your training it’s not a Zebra but a Horse,
Go on throw diagnostic criteria’s out the door,
Something much simpler is bound to be the cause.

Patient not quite fitting those tick boxes on the chart?
Have you ensured you’ve torn their mental health apart?
Depression, trauma, maybe be a life stressor or two,
Cancel their painkillers and make sure to push through,
A psychiatrist referral to review them a new.

Yet your patient sits there and loudly declares,
“I’m a Zebra, I’m striped and Lord knows I’m rare,
I’m dislocated, spasming, and bruised black and blue,
Please don’t be yet another Dr that lets me fall through”.

You can stop my medication and hang me out to dry,
Or perhaps just this once you could choose not to turn a blind eye,
My connective tissue is failing and my body’s been wrung through,
My brain sends faulty signals, and I don’t know what to do,

Dystonia, EDS, CRPS, I all but shout,
Should your really ignore the fact my joints are hanging out?
Or what about the psych assessment that states beyond a doubt,
‘Her issues are organic you should promptly check them out’.

It’s become clear that your training needs a change of course
Try “When you hear hoofbeats it could be a Zebra or a Horse”.

Authored by R. McDowall, 2018.

Posted in September

Mind, Heart, Body…

Advertisements

Midwifery. One word that for me will always be bitter sweet. My dreams and aspirations 6 years on are still pinned tightly to it. It’s one of the reasons I struggle with having good spells with my conditions, which I know sounds ridiculous. Whenever I’m going through a particularly well controlled phase there’s a voice in the back of my mind that starts questioning whether now’s the time to start an HE access to Midwifery course so that once my son is in school I can apply to return. It’s a cruel mindset that I seem unable to shift.

I know my reality. I know that my good spells don’t last. That eventually as my injections wear off I will be wracked with spasms once again. I am accuately aware that due to my EDS my joints will continue to deteriorate; I’m 25 and already have been told I need a double knee replacement. If I examine what a good period means to me, you would probably laugh; a good spell still involves dislocating at least one or more body parts a day, it still involves high levels of pain, it still involves spasms to varying degrees. I know this. Yet as I lie in bed trying to catch up on some rest whilst my son naps I find myself reading the latest Royal College of Midwives articles because I daren’t risk falling behind on the latest developments in Midwifery just incase in time I go back.

My head knows that I should accept all this, my heart longs for my return to working on the wards, and my body is like an ice sculpture that has been left in the sun and is starting to melt and crack.

Posted in Archive, September, September 2018

“Pull Yourself Together!”

Advertisements

This week on my personal social media profile I posted a status sharing a positive experience with my new GP. In typical EDS fashion, my belly button had split open along an old surgical scar, whilst my Dr tended to me he not only put me at ease but he made sure to impress on me that not only did he understand how real my symptoms were but also how debilitating they can be. He took the time to discuss my range of conditions and ask what more he could do to help. It was uplifting; naturally, I wanted to share this, as this is not how my appointments usually go.

Now I’m quite used to getting snide remarks off of able-bodied/healthy people and misinformed Doctors who don’t know any better. Over the last 6 years, I’ve learned to let their ignorance bounce off me and to use it as an opportunity to educate. However this week when I posted about my positive trip to the doctors, a fellow member of the spoonie community made a comment which blew me away “pull yourself together, you have got a family to take care of“. Wow.  There were a few choice words I still wish I had responded with, but instead that ‘friend’ was removed. Whilst I know that I don’t need to address what was said, here are just a few toned down thoughts.

I live with spasms, agonizing subluxations, and dislocations 24/7, and it’s now suspected that I have gastroparesis.  My list of diagnosis builds each year. To me none of that matters; I am a great mum despite my health. I take care of my family and they take care of me. Go eat some chocolate, it will release a bunch of endorphins, and think about why you felt the need to try and shame me for being ill whilst having a family.

Posted in Archive, August 2018, September

How Many Dislocations Is Too Many?

Advertisements

It has been a little over two weeks since my trip to the hospital where I was subsequently put on a strict liquid-only diet whilst I wait for a referral to see the oral surgeons. The liquid diet has to a degree reduced the overall number of dislocations I’m experiencing on a daily basis which is positive, however, my jaw dislocations are still very frequent. Days such as today I find quite frustrating, I don’t know how best to help myself.

The Dr. I saw who did not believe in Dystonia or have any understanding of EDS was extremely disapproving of the fact that my local hospital had given me a small dose of morphine after the third attempt to relocate my jaw failed. I’d spent over 24 hours dislocated and only had paracetamol throughout, I had not once asked for painkillers until this point. His attitude had left me worried about how to manage my pain at home. I am on my 12th jaw dislocation today. I have broken down in pain multiple times, yet all I have taken to manage it is ibuprofen and paracetamol, alongside applying lavender wheat bags to ease the surrounding muscle spasms that are aggravating it. Normally I would have taken something stronger such as Codeine or Tramadol by now,  which is a treatment plan agreed by both my GP and Neurologist, however I am so aware if on the off chance I have to return to the hospital for help with relocation I will need to inform them of what medications I have taken. I am fed of misinformed and ignorant professionals treating me like a drug seeker. I should not have to deprive myself of the painkillers I need because of one arrogant man.

I feel extremely frustrated. I know that referrals such as these take their time; however, I am concerned that this will just be the start of a very long process. Whatever ‘fix’ they come up with for my jaw, will have to take into account my Dystonia, and that seems like an impossible ask.

Posted in Archive, July 2018, September

6 Years Neurologically Challenged

Advertisements

Last Tuesday marked the 6 year anniversary since Dystonia made a joint shattering (literally) entrance into my life. Previously I’ve marked this day by reflecting on where my life is in comparison to where I had planned it to be; not a great way to spend it and usually resulted in a lot of tears. This year was remarkably different, for the first time in six years I didn’t spend the day in tears and focused on how truly blessed I am.

The reality of my conditions means that as I age my body gets deteriorates a lot faster than a healthy person would. I already need a double knee replacement but have agreed with the surgeons to delay this until my son is in school full time. I’m told its inevitable that I will end up reliant on power chair in the future. The time frame for this is unknown, so I’m focusing on doing what I can to strengthen my body against the battering it takes from the too frequent dislocations and spasms. I’m starting by shifting the weight, it’s slow progress but I am making progress. I’ve found some local HIIT classes for mums and babies that are happy for me to do what I can whilst my son plays beside me. A month ago I signed up to the body coaches 90 day plan, which unfortunately I’m only just starting as I dislocated both my knee and shoulder and needed to let my body recover. His workouts are harder than my body can cope with right now but I’m adapting them and feeling great.

6 years ago if you had told me that I would be OK with living with a mile long list of debilitating conditions I would most likely have bit your ear off. Now I can see how my experiences are shaping me, I’ve learnt to grasp every opportunity with open hands and jump feet first. Whilst the idea of a further 6 years living in this pain is not one that I can even start to wrap my head around. I know that I have the strength to battle it and succeed.

Posted in Archive, July 2018, September

Happy 70th Birthday NHS

Advertisements

Today the NHS celebrates its 70th birthday, and with this milestone it is important to acknowledge what a valuable asset it is. With a government that seems to care very little about it, it is more vital than ever before that we shout from the rooftops about the wonders it performs day and night 365 days a year, and make our opinions known when it comes to ensuring that the NHS receives the funds it needs to continue you the amazing work it currently performs.

I am lucky to have experienced both sides of our NHS, as a student midwife I witnessed the strain in staff numbers and how overworked they are; as a patient I honestly doubt whether I would still be alive without them. I’ve had more ambulance trips than I care to count, and spent many months over the years being cared for as an inpatient. Without my neurologist I know that I would have little quality of life; I would not be able to eat, drink, talk, see, or move my limbs. He enables me to live a life that is fulfilling.

To the NHS I say thank you. Without you many lives would be extinguished, and many more would be experiencing incredible suffering. Thank-you for doing your all every day and night all year long. Thank-you for continuing to provide outstanding care despite your own government failing to supply you adequately. Thank-you.

 

 

Posted in April 2018, Archive, September

Wonky But Happy

Advertisements

“Hmmm that’ a nasty dislocation to have long term, take some morphine.”

“When you next see your neurologist, if I were you I would discuss having your botox more regularly. This degree of deviation, pain and dislocation on a regular basis is not good for you.”

“Wow. Ehlers-Danlos, and Dystonia. You couldn’t have asked for a worse combination of conditions there.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go the hospital? I’m sure the A&E department will listen to you this time. I’ll even write you a note.”

These four word-for-word quotes from different health professionals give you an insight into the last week and a half of my life. My botox has worn off a couple of weeks ahead of schedule around my jaw, the rest is still working well, so overall I’m pretty happy. However this does mean I’ve been experiencing regular extreme spasms and dislocations in my jaw again, which in turn has an impact on my ability to talk, eat and drink.

Whilst my ability to communicate using British Sign Language is steadily improving, I took a trip to the doctors to get a prescription for some painkillers and muscle relaxants, as I’d like to eat, drink and talk in as little pain as possible. Whilst I have access to oramorph this is my last resort medication, and not something I am willing to take around my son unless it is an emergency. The doctor couldn’t quite believe the predicament I was in, let alone get his head around the fact that I did not fancy sitting for a couple of hours in my local A&E at a hospital that has repeatedly provided the wrong treatment despite direct instruction from my neurologist. I stated to him that as I don’t respond to local anaesthetic I would much rather take the painkillers and muscle relaxants at home and relocate my jaw myself when the spasm eased off. At this point I think he would have dragged me to the hospital if he could have.

We discussed at length (well I scribbled out for him what I was attempting to convey) my botox arrangement with my neurologist. It stunned him that I was willing to put up with these spasms for a further two and a half weeks. The moment was an odd one, with me not really in a great place with my distorted face, twisted neck and dislocated jaw to protest that actually I was doing great, but then he didn’t know me six years ago when I was bed bound, he didn’t even know me a week beforehand when my botox was working well, so I can see where his concern comes from.

At the time the above four quotes drove me nutty. But I know I’m easily wound up when in pain, so I can’t say that I am surprised. In reflection, whilst my jaw still is causing me significant pain from my current dislocation I can see my progress in pain management and self-care; which is an element I am proud to have improved on.