Trainspotting (or a bit of a cock-up by me)

 

You know your life is a bit sad when you manage an almighty medication cock-up and see the immediate silver lining as being “well at least I have a blog post for next week”. Such were my first coherent words to my husband this morning after a night of sheer hell. All because I fell asleep ridiculously early and then forgot to take my medications, one of which is morphine.

 

I take morphine twice a day as a 12 hour slow release tablet. Before morphine I couldn’t get out of bed and had been stuck there for the majority of the time for several months. This was thanks to a dr who decided it would be a fantastic idea to have me walk the length of a hospital corridor. Whilst I managed it and may have seemed ok to her, the following day the repercussions were felt throughout my body. I had a flare up of bursitis in both hips, plantar fasciitis in both feet, my knees throbbed and my back felt like I had been trampled  by a horse. I worked my way through every other non opiate painkiller before both my doctor and I conceded defeat, there were no options left. At 37 I wasn’t prepared to spend what will hopefully be a very long life in that amount of pain on a daily basis.

 

In all the years I have been taking morphine (for the pain caused by having EDS and the early onset arthritis I developed because of it) I have never missed a dose. Over the last 6 years I have on occasion been a few hours late with no problems. I have always attempted to educate those who read my blog (if they don’t understand) the difference between addiction and dependence. An addict uses drugs to get high, someone who is physically dependent on morphine is using it to relieve pain. I have never got high and if you bumped into me in the street you wouldn’t know I took morphine.

 

However the results are the same for the addict and those physically dependent on a drug, if they miss a dose. The body goes into withdrawal. I am now 12 hours past the time I realised I had gone into withdrawal and I still feel like shit despite taking my morning meds. I am hoping tomorrow I feel better and my body will be more settled. Let me also tell you this, as long as there is breath in my body I will never miss a dose again.

 

I wrote in last week’s blog post that I went to the doctors, I was exhausted for the rest of the day. At 18:30 (yes I do know how rock and roll I am) I went to bed. It was too early to take my night time medications which I take between 19:00 -20:00, so I thought to myself, “no worries I will take it later”. I then promptly went to sleep, which I never expected to do. I thought I would listen to the radio and then take my tablets after The Archers had finished at 19:15. I didn’t hear The Archers, in fact I don’t remember hearing much of anything I just conked straight out.

 

I woke up at 21:30 drenched in sweat, now there is nothing unusual in that, I can suffer from reactive hypoglycemia. I even worked out in my head that the night sweat would be in line with it happening within 4 hours of eating. I was so tired I just rolled over and went back to sleep again. I then proceeded to wake up at 22:30, 23:30 00:15 01:30, 02:15 and then finally at 03:00am. Each time I woke up I was absolutely drenched in sweat feeling both boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time. On each awakening I was also feeling more agitated, panicky and nauseous. I thought I was coming down with the flu or something. I had also had to change my pyjamas 3 times and turn my duvet over twice as it was soaked through. I was still at this point blaming reactive hypoglycemia but knowing in my head that the time frame for this to occur had passed.

 

It wasn’t until around 03:20 when Willow knocked my pill-mate (box that divides pills into days/ mornings/lunch/ tea/ evenings) off the bedside cabinet and I turned the bedroom light on to put it back, that I realised Wednesday evenings pills were still sat in their compartment. I checked my mobile phone to see what day it was. My first thought was “shit, no wonder I feel so awful” then it was “what the hell do I do?” I was 8 hours past the normal time of taking them but 4 hours away from when they should be taken. I really didn’t want to mess up the times I take my meds. So I opted to take 10mg/5ml Oramorph and 10mg slow release (from a larger dose) out of my morning meds, to see if it would stop the withdrawal I was experiencing.

 

I tried to go back to sleep but I was still hot and cold at the same time and dripping with sweat. I decided to get up and have a cup of tea in the hope it would make me feel better. As in the half hour I had been tossing and turning I’d had to get up twice for a dump. (I know I am such a lady but that’s what opiate withdrawal does to you and it’s not pretty.) Jay was up when I got downstairs and I was in such a state I could barely speak. I was feeling really nauseous, agitated and angry. I was just praying that at some point the morphine would take the edge off. But as luck would have it my stomach was on a go slow and absorbing my medication really slowly.

 

At 6am I felt like I had the full-blown flu, I was sweating buckets and still feeling like I was burning up whilst be freezing cold at the same time. The nausea was getting worse and I was convinced I was just going to puke all over the lounge floor. I was counting down the minutes until 7am when I would be able to take my morning tablets. It took until 10am for me to feel anything like human again, even then though my pain levels were really high and I was exhausted.

 

For the remainder of the day I felt pretty grim, body aches, no energy, I felt really tearful and out of sorts. All day long all I could hear in my head was the song from the film Trainspotting Lust for life by Iggy Pop, which did make me giggle. Especially when I would catch myself singing it every now and again. I went to bed really early again but set an alarm on my phone to remind me. I was so determined not to go through the same thing again I couldn’t sleep until I knew I had taken my pills.

 

I have a set routine normally when it comes to taking my meds, normally if I go to bed early I set the alarm on my phone so it wakes me up. That night I was so tired I couldn’t even think straight. Also I am good at setting the alarm on my phone and then just turning it off when it sounds and not taking my meds. That is what normally happens when I fall asleep early and this is what has happened all the times I have taken them late. Jay would normally come in and check that I have taken them but he was also shattered that night and forgot. He also hates waking me up as I can be thoroughly evil when woken. Thrashing around thinking I have been attacked or being verbally abusive due to being semi conscious. So it’s hardly a nice thing for him to have to do.

 

I am now forcing myself to stay downstairs until just before 19:00 so that I don’t fall asleep before I take my pills. I never, ever want to end up in that situation again . Even attempting to put into words what my body felt like doesn’t even come close. It  took 24 hours for me to feel fully back to normal and for my pain levels to come down to normal. Mixed in with feeling shitty was also the anger at myself for forgetting to take them in the first place. I don’t mind if I make myself sicker than normal for a few days due to enjoying myself but to make myself sick through something entirely preventable made me seethe. The old negative self talk really kicked in, I didn’t have a nice word to say about myself. It was just so incredibly frustrating.

 

So I shall leave you with the track that has haunted me ever since Iggy Pop’s Lust for Life

Zebras not Horses

There is something fundamentally wrong with a medical system that leads those  who are training within it to believe that rare doesn’t happen. In chronic illness circles we often refer to ourselves as Zebras, which is in reference to the medical school phrase “ if you hear hoofbeats think horses not zebras”. It is to teach doctors that not every patient they see has a rare medical condition but has it gone so far in the other direction that they now see “rare” as a never event?

 

There was a question posed on a social media group I am part of over the bank holiday weekend around this subject. As you can imagine it provoked a flurry of responses. All of us come together in this group as we are suffering from rare conditions, perhaps our viewpoint is skewed because we are surrounded by “rare” conditions? I don’t think so, these groups contain 1,000’s of members based in the UK alone. Where newly diagnosed people join all the time. I am beginning to wonder that the figures used to ascertain the number of people diagnosed per year or the number per thousand diagnosed isn’t accurate. Possibly it’s because of better technology or testing is now available and we are still basing these figures on the number of people diagnosed with a condition before these better more reliable tests became available? Whatever  the reason behind the inaccuracy some “rare” conditions aren’t actually that rare, they are massively under diagnosed and that is another source leading to inaccurate statistics.

 

Reading patient UK over the weekend, I saw that the number of people diagnosed with the rare autoimmune disease Sarcoidosis per year was 3,000 (the population of the UK is estimated at just over 65 million – (Source ) now I am crap at maths so can’t do all the percentages for you but you’d have to agree 3000 new diagnoses per year in a population of 65 million is quite small. Yet I know 3 people with this disease, not through social media but in actual real life. Now obviously there  will be statistical anomalies, there always will be. However there are plenty of conditions that some doctors still class as rare yet aren’t, they are simply under diagnosed. What is even more frustrating is how simply some of these conditions can be diagnosed, crazily some can be diagnosed without the need for expensive tests, EDS hypermobility type and PoTs just being two of them.

 

When I first raised the possibility of EDS and PoTs with my old gp, I was told that EDS was too rare ( estimates at this time was 1 in 5,000 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK1279/) and would have been picked up in childhood, I was 37 and PoTs simply didn’t exist. He informed me quite confidently that everyone’s heart rate increased on standing. When I tried to argue with him that I wasn’t talking about a 15-20 bpm increase but up to 80 bpm, he told me that wasn’t possible, despite all the data I had captured on my blood pressure monitor whilst performing a poor man’s tilt table test, proving otherwise. He simply couldn’t get his head around the fact that rare doesn’t mean it never happens and nor was he educated about the existence of PoTs. Instead he was happy to go along with the label already given to me as somatization disorder.

 

So many people are ending up with a psychiatric label instead of dr’s just admitting that they don’t know what they are dealing with. We have moved away from doctors listening to the clues their patients are giving them and now have a situation where they are relying on expensive tests for what is known as a “gold standard” diagnosis. If your condition doesn’t fit with the medical textbook then it is completely dismissed as a possibility. We have moved so far away from understanding that rare means it will happen but not often to thinking that rare doesn’t exist. It means that doctors are no longer seeing a patient with an open mind or  realising that diseases/ conditions don’t read the textbooks they themselves are taught from.

 

I was lucky, I only had to battle for a year once I had worked out what was wrong with me (after countless hours searching on google, reading medical papers, joining patient forums etc) to get the test – a tilt table test, that would prove what I had been saying was indeed correct. It took paying for a private consultation to get the diagnosis of EDS hypermobility type (and even with the change in classification I still have EDS). However there are many other patients out there that have been desperate for a diagnosis for years being told that there is nothing wrong with them and that their symptoms are all in their heads.

 

The whole point of the saying “when you hear hoofbeats think Horses not Zebras” is to ensure that overzealous medical students don’t overlook the common conditions in the race to diagnose something rare. It doesn’t however say “if you hear hoofbeats always think Horses because Zebras are like unicorns and don’t exist”. Zebras are mentioned in the saying because although it is 9 times out of 10 more likely to be a horse than a Zebra, the odd Zebra will be seen during your medical career.

 

The problem of rare not happening becomes even worse if you’re like me when you only tend to do the rare (or possibly massively under diagnosed) conditions. In 2015 I was told by my then consultant that I spent too much time on the internet looking up syndromes to have, this was after telling him I was feeling very unwell (much worse than normal) and that I knew something wasn’t right in my body. Reluctantly he ordered some blood tests to placate me, at the time I was concerned I may have PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome). What the blood tests found was that my level of prolactin in my blood was too high (it’s a hormone that is produced by the body when we lactate / breast feed or it can be because you have a pituitary gland tumour). I never did get to the bottom of why my prolactin levels were high but a few months later another blood test showed that I had abnormally low luteinizing hormone. That is the hormone that is needed to produce eggs from your ovaries. It can indicate premature ovarian failure, unfortunately due to me then having a spontaneous cerebrospinal fluid leak investigations went no further. I was too unwell to be worrying about what my ovaries were doing when my head felt like it was going to explode on sitting up or standing. So in the space of a year I had two rare(ish) conditions on top of EDS and PoTs (the luteinizing hormone being low could have been due to the raised prolactin.) Now who says lightning doesn’t strike twice? In my family we only seem to do rare or rare presentations of common conditions.

 

I have been lucky in the last few years, that 99% of the doctors I have seen have understood that rare can and does happen. I have only had an issue with one dr in the last two years, someone who was supposed to be an expert yet within a few seconds of me being in the room it was clear that he wasn’t. Now when I come across those situations I don’t argue with them, I just do my dumb blonde act. There is no point trying to educate a person like that, as their mind is closed off. You are but a meer patient and have no knowledge as far as they are concerned. I suppose you could say that I pick my battles now. I don’t have the energy to waste on fights that I have no chance of winning. I now change doctors (when it is possible) or see my gp to explain what has gone on, to try to ensure that I don’t have to see that dr again. I am lucky, many people I know don’t have that kind of support from their gp and everything is a battle. I don’t take it for granted though as with my gp leaving back in February I don’t know what kind of support I will get in the future.

 

Thankfully on the day of finalising this piece I saw a new gp and the appointment went very well. I finally bit the bullet and decided after several days of horrendous back pain (which I have bored you all stupid with) to book an appointment. The upshot is I have to go back tomorrow (today for those of you reading this) for blood tests to ascertain if my inflammation markers are elevated plus I haven’t had any bloods done for about a year and they like to see what’s going on. The gp is also organising for me to have an x-ray of my back as it is just so tender to the touch, that I yelp and leap out-of-the-way when even just light pressure is applied. I have to go back once the x-ray has been done.