Truth v Gossip

There is one thing that I have found since having several chronic health conditions that people simply do not understand and that is the fatigue levels that come with them. I know some people have created this fairy tale in their heads that either have withdrawn from society or that Mr Myasthenia Kid doesn’t let me out in the world. People stupidly believe this gossip rather than actually ask me. They are simply untrue, the reason I don’t go out very much is because I get so exhausted by doing very little outside the home.

At home I have an environment I can control. I have regular household sounds, lighting etc. All of which my body is used to. The minute any of that becomes too much I can go to bed, lie down, limit the light and sound. Out of the home I have zero control over the additional stimuli my body is bombarded with. Also these days I am using a scooter a lot of the time, the concentration levels involved in driving this even for a short period of 20 minutes, drains me. It makes it hard for me to manage a conversation and drive. The minute I don’t concentrate like when driving a car accidents can happen. I have almost gone off the sea wall down at the seafront because I was trying to talk and drive. It takes a lot out of me and unless you have to balance your activity and rest periods people just don’t understand it.

Since Sunday I have had an extraordinarily busy week, for me. For normal people this will probably sound like a leisurely few days. On Sunday we went to Pets at Home the big one so around 20 minutes in the car to get there. Then we went to Tesco to upgrade our phones which took about an hour. We had Dembe with us who behaved beautifully. There were lots of people in Tesco that I knew that haven’t seen me since I have lost 49lbs in weight and who also wanted to meet Dembe. So it was very busy. After the morning we had around 90 minutes sit down and then we went to visit friends with Dembe. It was lovely to see them both and Dembe really enjoyed his visit too. However by 6pm I was completely drained and was up in bed resting, before dropping off just after 8pm.

Many of you will be thinking how can that low level of activity wear you out? I wish I knew, my only explanation is the assault on all my senses just physically and mentally wears me out. The extra noise, people, lights, smells, physical activity of driving a mobility scooter. Being upright with my legs down and blood pooling, changes in temperature, all those things combined just zap any charge that was left in my batteries. On Monday it took me hours to get moving. I was fit for nothing until about 2pm, which is crazy. My body just felt like there were 15lb weights attached to each limb and my head, well I just couldn’t really focus on anything that demanded more than a limited amount of mental acuity. 

On Tuesday I felt a lot better as I had spend Monday recuperating, which again if you have never suffered from bone crushing levels of fatigue you would struggle to understand. We needed to take Dembe to the vets to be weighed and to get his worming tablets / flea / tick treatment. We were there around 20 minutes as we like to have a catch up with the staff as Dembe is very popular there. We then popped up to Tesco for a few items, we took Dembe with us to give him some more environmentalization training. We only needed three things but Dembe has such a huge fan club amongst the staff and customers that it took 40 minutes. I then spent as much of the afternoon as I could resting with my feet up as in the evening we had our first night back at our weekly dog training class.

Evenings are the absolute worst time for me to be out of the house. Purely because I go to bed every evening between 7pm – 8pm or earlier if it is a rubbish day. By then I struggle to hold myself upright, co-ordinate my movements and as I discovered last night I can also end up struggling to talk because my brain can’t channel the words to my mouth. Ending up with me looking like a fish out of water. I thought I would be ok, after all I did the dog training in the summer. But I don’t think I had been out as much during the day. The dog training lessons are intense. Even though I just sit there and let Jay do all the training. I can’t do the walking around or being up on my feet that much. 

I coped ok in June and July so it was really surprising ( and frustrating ) to me last night to get half an hour in and to start feeling really, really unwell. I don’t know about anyone else but I hate having to ask for help or potentially making a scene due to being ill. I have in the past been known to wait for everyone to leave the room before I have allowed myself to projectile vomit. Thankfully there was nothing for anyone to see, although I may have gone more pale than normal. I just suddenly had the internal organ sinking feeling, then felt I experienced some feelings of dissociation. I knew I was in the room but I didn’t feel I was part of it. Unless you have felt this it is a difficult feeling to explain. I can feel like this just before I faint and I knew that is what my body was preparing to do. As I was sat down I rapidly starting clenching my bum cheek and tensing my calves in an attempt to get the blood moving. The whole time I was absolutely terrified I was going to wake up surrounded by people having taken a nosedive from the chair.

The weird thing was I could see poor Dembe trying to alert Jay to what was happening as hit lay down on the floor and had his head turned to me. He was watching ensuring I was ok. When I spoke to Jay afterwards to let him know what had happened he said “why didn’t you get up and go to the car so you could lie down?” which is a reasonable enough question as normally I do have quite a bit of warning so I can avert a faint. I just said to him that I felt so bad I was terrified if I stood up that I would go down with a bang. He then said “well why didn’t you shout me?” the simple fact of the matter was I just didn’t want to do anything that would draw attention to me.

 I really HATE the spotlight being on me, I hate it even more if it is because I am having a funny turn or have fainted. It is stupid I know but I just can’t, it makes me feel so very uncomfortable. Like I am causing a nuisance or being melodramatic. This probably goes back to various incidents at school and at work where I have been seriously unwell and been called a drama queen or that I was causing a scene. When I was younger I was never believed when I was sick, even when I have had major surgery, I had work colleagues say I was doing it for attention. How on earth you get a team of NHS surgeons to open you up from pubic bone to sternum just for fun I have no idea but apparently I can.

Thankfully my funny turn went after 10 minutes but it left me feeling seriously drained. I spent the entire journey home yawning non stop which is always a sign that my blood pressure has dropped. I was in bed by 8pm and asleep by 9pm.

Today ( Wednesday ) I am seriously pooped but like I always say I’d rather be knackered due to going out and having fun or just living a normal life than being this wiped out from doing nothing. Again it has taken me all morning to get going. I have been up since 7am and it is only now at 13.30 that I am starting to feel human and that I can do anything that needs any mental clarity. On days like this I have to take advantage of any window of opportunity when I feel well enough physically and mentally to be able to get up and crack on with something I want to do.

Obviously having the Weimaraners did curtail my activities outside the house. It was too expensive to get dog sitters in all the time and there are only so many times you can ask friends to do it for you. They were too destructive to leave by themselves, so in the end it just became easier to not go out or just one of us go, than stress out about finding someone to stay with them. Our friends have been fabulous, Imogen looked after them so much in 2015 when I had my CSF leak. If it hadn’t been for her I wouldn’t have been able to attend half the appointments I did. She also looked after them when we went to the Emma Bridgewater factory for the day which was a 14 hour (plus) stint . My friend Sharon also did us a massive favour when she stayed with them so that Jay could appear on Sewing Quarter TV. Both Ellie and Heather have stepped up too and looked after them, along with Tracey, Sarah and so many others over the years. But even with that massive pool of helpers it wasn’t fair to continually ask them to look after them. So our outside activities took a back seat, plus a lot of the time I just wasn’t well enough.

Now we have Dembe and we are training him to be my assistance dog it means the whole world has opened up to me again. It is really weird after having 12 years of not really going anywhere but the hospital, the doctors surgery or the dentist. Those visits also wiped me out. We are so used to being home we are having to force ourselves to go out. Which is another reason why we are doing all the training with Dembe as it means at least once a week I will leave the house and also that he will be a well behaved assistance dog whom we can take everywhere with us. But I will always have to pace my activities. I will never be well enough to go out all day, every day of the week. I just don’t have the stamina or physical reserves to be able to cope with that. And that is fine with me. I do quite like my own company and being able to do the things I want to do. I guess I am saying I like a balance.

So when someone tells you that someone is a recluse or that they aren’t allowed to go out. Have a good long think about that person’s circumstances. Think about if they have a chronic health condition, suffered a bereavement all manner of things that could be the cause of them not being outside in the world as much as you think they should. Don’t take the easy option and accept the gossip no matter how credible the source because it is just that their take on what they “think” is happening. Which doesn’t make it the truth.

My week

 

Over the last week I have been quite unwell, culminating in an emergency appointment at the doctors surgery yesterday. As is usual for me it wasn’t clear what exactly was wrong. I had severe abdominal pain in the lower right quadrant – I’m no stranger to abdominal pain, I have suffered with it for as long as I can remember. I can remember countless home visits by the gp where I was yet again diagnosed with a grumbling appendix.

 

I don’t think what I had yesterday was my appendix – its still sore today ( just not as bad). I think it is actually a cyst on my ovary, the doctors found one in 2015 but as it was only 2cm in size the protocol was not to monitor it. For years every few months I would get a pain in my lower right side. Loads of times I was convinced it was my appendix but after they found the cyst I realised that this made more sense. I started to track when I had the pain, it was always between the 20th to the 28th of each month and would last a few days. However over the last six months every two or so months the pain ramps up. I have a reasonably high pain threshold and it takes a lot to make me go to see the dr, let alone ring them up and demand an appointment. Normally I’m the patient running in the opposite direction.

 

Yesterday I couldn’t stand up straight when it was at its worst and when I was on the phone to the duty doctor I was curled up in a ball on the bed. I didn’t just have pain on the right side but the whole of my insides felt sore and were burning.  Thankfully the duty doctor agreed that I did need to be seen and set an appointment for an hour later. Thankfully Mr Myasthenia Kid was day off so he could drop me down there. I also had a pot to piss in ( ha ha ha ha!) my old gp used to give me a sample pot to use when I suspected I had a UTI. I forgot yesterday to ask for another one to replace it.

 

By the time I got to the doctors appointment the pain was already decreasing. I felt a bit of a fraud to be honest. Whilst I am typing the pain is ramping up again, I’ve taken pain killers so hopefully it will settle it again. I haven’t got a temperature and today I am not feeling unwell. I don’t feel right – I think all of us with a chronic illness or condition know when our bodies aren’t feeling right. Mine hasn’t felt right for a few weeks, initially I put it down to anxiety, stress, then the heat. But I know in my heart of hearts it’s more than that. It’s like the time I kept telling my old hospital consultant that I felt terribly unwell, I didn’t know what it was but he needed to listen to me. The arrogant twat didn’t, he sent me reluctantly for blood tests. Five days later I got a snotty letter telling me all my bloods were normal. Three days after that letter he had to backtrack because my prolactin levels were stupidly high. See I knew that something was wrong, never ignore your instinct about your health.

 

My urine was dipped and nothing was showing. I then had to get up on the couch and be examined. I knew it was coming, I made sure that front and back bottoms were scrupulously clean as I feared gloved fingers could be inserted into either orifice. Luckily I avoided that one! My stomach was palpated, as is usual the doctors always ask about the scar on my stomach. I’ve had a scar on my stomach since I was 3 and a bit. It’s been there so long that unless someone draws my attention to it I don’t remember it’s there. Now that will probably seem strange as it’s a horrific looking thing all thanks to EDS.

 

If I wasn’t such a lard-arse at the moment I may have taken a photo to show you. The scar runs from around an inch above my belly button to the top my pubic bone. It has healed very wide around an inch or more at the worst places and the skin is paper thin. I also have no sensation / feeling at all in my stomach about 2 inches either side of the scar as the nerves were cut ( I have had multiple surgeries). It’s caused me problems in the past due to burns. A few times I have ended up seeking hospital treatment as I have given myself a serious burn injury and not noticed until the skin has gone black. Like I said I have no feeling there.

 

The scar has also tethered at the end near my pubic bone. This means the scar tissue has adhered to the muscle underneath. It causes me no pain but means my stomach is divided into two parts due to the tethering.

 

I showed the doctor on my abdomen where the pain was, she felt it and I had to be peeled off the ceiling. At this point she told me that she wanted to ring the surgical team at the local hospital for advice as she felt it could be my appendix or it could be an ovarian cyst torsion ( meaning the ovary was twisting because of the cyst). Personally I thought with both I’d be in more pain than I was. I declined the call to the surgical team basically because I hate the local hospital. If I had been in severe pain, vomiting etc obviously I would have gone, I’m not an idiot. But I knew what would happen, lots of tests, no sleep, idiot medical professionals and sent home after being made to feel like a time waster. At this point all I wanted was my bed.

 

I made the doctor a solemn promise that should the pain intensify overnight that I would ring 999 and if it was bad tomorrow (now today) I’d ring them. She wasn’t totally happy but she knew I wasn’t going to hospital. I have to add here that even in that severe amount of pain my blood pressure reached the dizzying heights of 115/80 with a pulse of 95, oxygen 98%. When my blood pressure is normal ( doesn’t happen very often these days) when in pain I am normally in the 130/90 territory. So that just goes to show you how low my blood pressure has been of late.

Its not desperately low but I am 5ft 8 tall and not petite. Most doctors take my blood pressure and you can see that they are looking forward to giving me a lecture about my weight and high blood pressure. You can see the disappointment in their eyes when it comes back low! If my blood pressure is below around 115/80 I can be hideously symptomatic, every time I stand up I feel faint. This week I have been drinking expresso’s as it’s the only thing that gives my blood pressure a boost, even if it is only temporarily.

Around 2.30pm the doctor I saw yesterday rang to check how I was. That was really kind of her but I feel guilty for making her worry. It wasn’t a quick call either, she had a huge list of questions to ask to ensure I wasn’t brushing her off and telling her what I thought she wanted to hear. This is why I love the small practice I use as they have the time to care about their patients, it doesn’t feel like a conveyor belt. If you need longer than your allotted time then you get it and none of the other patients mind as they also know they won’t be rushed out the door.

 

My plan is when feeling slightly better that I will make a doctors appointment and ask to have this pain investigated. Personally I wouldn’t be surprised if my ovary is stuck to my appendix due to all the adhesions I have.  

 

I’ve been so rough over the last week or so I haven’t done very much in the way of sewing. I tried some hand sewing yesterday but couldn’t concentrate so gave up. Today I finished a Travis bag for one of my Instagram friends. Thankfully that was a quick bit of sewing as I had started it well over a week ago. I can’t put a photo up as she hasn’t received it yet. Jamie will be sending it tomorrow for me. The lovely lady and I have chatted a few times on IG and she asked me if she could send me one of her bags and give her an honest critique of her work, which is a bloody brave thing to do. The bag would be mine to keep. I couldn’t let her just send me a bag, as I knew she had a dog I thought I would send her a Travis bag.

 

This is the bag she sent me,

 

I absolutely love this bag. The quilting is amazing, she’s also used variegated thread so it goes dark and light which emphasises the quilting beautifully. I only wish that I could quilt as accurately as this!