At first I just said "my stomach hurts" because at 12 every thing in that general vicinity is your stomach. After ruling out anything GI related my pediatrician sent me to a gynecologist at the incredibly tender age of 13. Though I went to dire straits to boycott this terrifying appointment, it ended up not being so bad. After medication and eventually a laparoscopy I was diagnosed with severe Endometriosis. Before my beloved ob/gyn retired last year he said he never did see another case of such a young girl with such aggressive endo.
Anyway. After another year of treatments I started noticing the symptoms were changing and I was also having urinary symptoms. So at 15 we did some rounds to find a good urologist who would take me on with my complicated symptoms and age. Finally we found a good one.
She quickly diagnosed me with interstitial cystitis then we began the arduous journey of battling IC.
Symptoms came and went, treatments helped and failed, there were lots of highs but even more lows.
We blamed any weird, seemingly unrelated issues on medications or just my body fighting back after years of pain.
Things spiraled out of control until I found myself 28 years old with no uterus, ovaries, cervix, bladder or urethra. The doctors had run out of treatments so the only thing to do was remove the diseased organs out of my otherwise (seemingly) healthy body.
There were side effects and complications as is expected of major surgeries and reconfiguration but we kept moving forward expecting these bizarre, write-off symptoms to go away eventually.
And yet. They didn't. Here I am a year after my last major surgery and I'm still struggling man. I have all these symptoms that I never focused on because I had bigger, badder things to worry about and it was easy to brush them off after dousing them in blame from other things.
I was literally taking a bucket full of medications just a year ago but now all I take is a half of a Valium for muscle tension and 2 Benadryl for nausea and to help me sleep so these random things can't be blamed on meds. (Admittedly I did just stop taking hydroxazine as needed for nausea and I took off my scopalamine nausea patch to see if that helps with these creeper symptoms.)
I'm still having nausea and diarrhea daily which can be shooed away with the fact that I had two intestinal surgeries within one year. Oh and I'm gaining weight faster than a Jr. High wrestler trying to hit the next weight class.
Then I have weird ghostly symptoms like urgency and the feeling of a full bladder even though it's literally an empty cavern in there... Occasionally I have horrible urgency like I have to pee, sometimes I will go as far as sitting on the toilet or taking a shower to trick my body. I also get regular flank (kidney) pain and swelling. These all might be phantom pains but they could also be signs of UTI's... Yes you can still get a UTI without a urethra or bladder. If you want more info about that, give this blog a quick gander...
http://how-ic-it.blogspot.com/2015/09/i-planned-on-writing-blogs-detailing.html
http://how-ic-it.blogspot.com/2015/09/i-planned-on-writing-blogs-detailing.html
I also have occasional fevers, thick, rank urine and unsatisfiable (I think I made that word up but I like it) exhaustion. No clear explanation for that.
Then! I started really noticing a symptom I've had for years but have always blamed on medication or treatments. However I wasn't on those anymore and I was still having these crazy episodes. It usually starts with my toes, they curl up and spasm in all sorts of wonky ways. I try to make them do it on my own when they're relaxed but I physically can't make them do what these spasms make them do. All my toes go in different directions, one twitching while the others stay stiff, etc... It's like they're possessed. Then it travels up to my calves creating horrendous Charley horse like spasms.
Then I started noticing how regularly at least one part of my legs and/ or arms are numb or tingling. I have always blamed that on bad circulation or whatever and never paid much attention to it but once again, these little things starting sticking out to me.
I wasn't too concerned about these seemingly minor things until I started falling. That's right, I am just minding my own business standing or walking when suddenly my legs give out and I'm on the ground. It's not a big dramatic fall from some Melissa McCarthy comedy. I literally just drop down like I'm in the ghetto hearing gun shots.
My hands also have had weakness causing me to drop my colored pencil mid color while coloring a bright jungle scene in my grown up coloring book... Don't get me started on my increased inability to open barely tightened bottles. In the ghetto. (I liked the previous ghetto mention so I'm going with it... keep up.)
So what's a girl to do?! I went to my primary care physician who has always been great! He treats me with respect, knows I'm not a drug seeker (he saw me wean from 25 morphine a day to 0 in 6 months on my own), and he knows how much I want a real life. So when I presented these "new", actually old just ignored, symptoms with tears in my eyes I expected a light bulb and an instant theory that would not just explain the recent additions but the last 16 years of constant health issues.
Not so much.
He kind of ho-hummed for a while, reminding himself out loud that I wasn't crazy and then said he really didn't think it was anything neurological but it was worth testing. For the first time in his office I started to get that horrible, humiliating creepy feeling that I get when healthcare professionals start to categorize me as a kook when he brazenly mentioned an antidepressant.
If you know me or you've read my blogs before then you know how Ludacris (yes I know it's spelled ludicrous but I'm a millennial and early 2000's hip hop (not to mention The Fast and The Furious) will forever live in my soul) it is that I would need an antidepressant.... It would literally be like giving a chubbier, less glamours but equally spunky and snarky Miss Piggy antidepressants. Some how I feel like my husband might disagree with that comparison... Comments babe?
Anyway! When my PCP saw the panic, fear, sadness, defeat... Whatever flashed in my eyes when he gave that offensive offering of antidepressants he quickly said first we would rule out damage to the nerves and the majors like MS and ALS by doing a nerve conduction study.
I felt a weird shred of hope. I didn't want these lifelong, horrible, debilitating disease but I also didn't want to be miserable without knowing why and I really didn't want to be labeled by the one doctor I thought I could still trust.
Well. That shred of hope was ripped into a million tiny shreds as I had the test today which came back completely normal. Hooray! I'm not dying and I don't have a degenerative neurological disease but what the (Grandma close your eyes) H-E-Double Hockey Sticks is going on then?!
I walked out of the exam room where they did the nerve conduction test that made me feel like I was an inmate being shocked for practice on death row.
Humiliation and defeat overwhelmed my senses. Sounds were mumbled, faces were blurry... Life hadn't changed at all but I felt like I was just delivered a sentence. Not a death sentence because at least that would be over relatively quickly, this was something more cruel and deserving of only the most vindictive, repulsive sorts. A lifetime of unproved, undiagnosed, untreated pain and symptoms.
Humiliation and defeat overwhelmed my senses. Sounds were mumbled, faces were blurry... Life hadn't changed at all but I felt like I was just delivered a sentence. Not a death sentence because at least that would be over relatively quickly, this was something more cruel and deserving of only the most vindictive, repulsive sorts. A lifetime of unproved, undiagnosed, untreated pain and symptoms.
I kind of lost it for a few hours. I withdrew into my personal turtle shell and shut everyone out. I slunk out to call my PCP to see what was next (he had briefly mentioned an MRI at my last appointment) but I wish I hadn't because for some reason the nurse didn't put me on hold... She just told my PCP that the nerve test came back normal with me just an airwave away. I heard him mumble and the nurse repeated what he said as he said it "it's probably just in your brain.... Not that you're crazy... Ha. Ha. But ya know, you and your body have been through a lot... Let's schedule a follow up."
For the first times I didn't happily thank her for her time and toss out frilly salutations, I just hung up.
Then I sobbed.
Like, boyfriend broke up with me a week before prom kind of sob. Like, suddenly realizing my son is going to grow up and marry a girl and I'll be useless to him and I don't even have a daughter who will still visit on holidays kind of sob. Like, Parenthood finale kind of sob. Primal devastation.
That was about 12 hours ago. I'm doing slightly better. I'm not sure why. I spent about 3 hours having my pity party in my turtle shell and then I just kind of moved on. It's just another hard day in this life I've been given. I would be lying if I said there wasn't a moment today I was thinking death would be such a lovely departure from it all... Not that I was suicidal, I just can't stand the thought of 60 more years living like this.
I know this was just the first step of this whole new diagnostic process but I'm scared the my PCP is going to give up on me or just go with the easy out and pin the giant "W" on my lapel... Whack Job.
I know this was just the first step of this whole new diagnostic process but I'm scared the my PCP is going to give up on me or just go with the easy out and pin the giant "W" on my lapel... Whack Job.
Unfortunately this is such a common problem in the IC/ chronic pain community. The doctors are stumped so they stick us in a box of whiners, attention/ drug seekers, worry warts, hypochondriacs, low pain tolerant wussies, and apparently geniuses who can create physical symptoms with our minds.... Then they just move us along with a condescending pat on the head and reminder to drink lots of water, not dwell on the pain (that they put in air quotes in their mind), and to be active!
By the way... Not that it's related to this blog... Well I'm not sure what would be related to this Christmas light cluster of a blog but I thought I would mention... I know I've told you in past blogs about my aversion to hospitals, especially ER's so I think I am fighting another UTI on my own as I wait for fever and vomiting so that I'll know for sure that it's full blow nephritis or that it's gone septic so they will take me seriously. Maybe that makes me stubborn or stupid but I'd rather feel that than how they make me feel when I show up with "colonized bacteria in my urine and a high sensitivity to pain"... As far as the muscle symptoms and falling, I don't know.
So.
I'll just keeping doing what I've done for 16 years and take it day by day.
By the way... Not that it's related to this blog... Well I'm not sure what would be related to this Christmas light cluster of a blog but I thought I would mention... I know I've told you in past blogs about my aversion to hospitals, especially ER's so I think I am fighting another UTI on my own as I wait for fever and vomiting so that I'll know for sure that it's full blow nephritis or that it's gone septic so they will take me seriously. Maybe that makes me stubborn or stupid but I'd rather feel that than how they make me feel when I show up with "colonized bacteria in my urine and a high sensitivity to pain"... As far as the muscle symptoms and falling, I don't know.
So.
I'll just keeping doing what I've done for 16 years and take it day by day.
Ugh. Sorry for the lengthy, dreary post. I live in the Seattle suburbs and it's February... Surely I'm allowed one blog to match the weather.
To end on a lighter note... A funny Titus (my 4 year old son) story... He was eating a sucker and I asked for a lick... He looked at me kind of weird then shrugged his little shoulders and stuck his tongue out as he started to lick my arm... I was laughing so hard I could barely tell him that I meant I wanted a lick of his sucker not for him to lick me! He's such a sweet, silly boy... He makes the grind of each day so much brighter with little moments like that!
To end on a lighter note... A funny Titus (my 4 year old son) story... He was eating a sucker and I asked for a lick... He looked at me kind of weird then shrugged his little shoulders and stuck his tongue out as he started to lick my arm... I was laughing so hard I could barely tell him that I meant I wanted a lick of his sucker not for him to lick me! He's such a sweet, silly boy... He makes the grind of each day so much brighter with little moments like that!