wizard level health management

Tossing this one over here. I probably put way too much of this stuff on Pinky blog.

The Good- I got boosted to moderator on my fave game server this weekend. 😍

The Bad- I think I've overshot my tolerance level for Nick Jr. Can't wait for snow days to stop happening.

The Ugly- Currently overlapping tamiflu and z-pack, doubling all my antihistamines (zyrtec- long acting H1, benadryl- short acting H1, pepcid- H2), requested inhaler, hopefully that gets filled tomorrow. Crazy weather changes and living in cedar/juniper country brought a pollen burst upon all the flu/crud/cold suffering in my area and there are alerts going around now about asthma can kill in these conditions. Lungs are clear but bronchials squirting like lawn sprinklers reacting to the pollen and I'm racing to stay ahead of all the wet in there, crossing my fingers I don't wind up on pred. Can't take cough meds, so I'm doing what I can not to cough, but the resulting upper torso fibro flare is real and today was charley horse hell around my entire ribcage for awhile, literally couldn't move for about an hour and just stood around attempting to stretch some of it out without triggering it worse. Ear pain has reached suckage level. Throat feels punched. Eye slime is starting to dry up, so that's a good sign. Thrilled I never once developed a fever while influenza B was active in my household.

~~~~~~~~

Tomorrow I make two trips into town, which means 80 miles of driving. Really hoping Wed and Thurs are real days off for me. I desperately need to decrust my kitchen floor and reclaim a few surfaces. Have started spring/summer planning aka it's time to watch the super sales and replace clothes wearing out. I'm still in a lot of the clothes I got before Bunny was conceived, which means most of it is over 5 years old, and as frugal as I am, I've been wondering for several months now how a particular pair of jeans hasn't poofed away like dust.

Pain management needs to happen, but I'll be taking it much slower this year. Neuro said I could double gabapentin as needed since it's a baby dose (does NOT work like tylenol or ibuprofen or opioids), but we all know I won't just sporadically do that on whims after what happened last year when he tripled my dose and I had to cut that back down. I'll be touching base with the arm/hand surgeon in March, hoping to wind back up in occupational therapy on arms for another try. Of all the things I've been assessed for, no one has actually looked at arthritis in shoulder, so this could get stupidly painful in therapy. I'm keeping range of motion ok, but losing strength and grip through the range of motion, and the pain is referring like crazy last few months. Will also be assessing feet around that time, although neuro says indication is arthritis coming on in hip joint and referring to feet. This is on top of neuropathies I've had for years from injury and flares, so I'm wrapping my head around getting a controlled burn/crash plan in place for the rest of my aging. Totally dreading going back on full meds. Most of the time I'm too busy to think about this stuff, but experience keeps tapping me for attention and reminding that putting it off too long will mean more work getting control over it later.

Have to stay healthy! I breezed through gallbladder removal recovery and a house full of flu victims last 4 months, so it's actually pretty exciting that I have gotten such good control over my health planning that I'm not the one dragging everyone else down for a change. Water, proteins, raw veg, good sleep, and taking the time to move around and keep up my stretches and nerve glosses, was even able to start walking a bit again this month. Keeping the allergens down in a house full of people has been challenging but I'm a washaholic with anything laundry, Scott compulsively vacuums, and we have HEPA air purifiers in several rooms. I know my CPAP has made a huge difference since I breathe through more filters in my sleep. Pre and probiotics are a big deal, too. Healthy gut, healthy body. As long as I control my glucose levels and keep up all the rest, I can take fewer pills, less impact on my liver and kidneys, faster healing, and now I've leveled up to fewer actual sick days for the first time in a decade, and that's with a small child bringing every germ from school into the house. I worked really hard getting here.

when I'm alone with my demons- pain spikes, PTSD, and anxiety attacks

I've been talking about some of this stuff on Pinky blog, but this one is super long and just needs to go back over here.

So last Friday morning was the MRI bright and early, and as per my monthly epic fail quota, I missed calendar syncing it on all the calendars around my house, so good thing I actually compulsively opened my pocket planner for a quick confirmation, prompting an abrupt charge out the door just in the nick of time.

~Blood-y-HELL~ blogger just took it upon itself to try publishing this already. wtf, dude, I'm not done yet.

>=l

Ok, so anyway, squeaked into my MRI right on the dot, thanx to @bonenado's awesome driving skillz, and then listened to 50s music for 20 minutes.

Reality check 1- The ear plugs did NOT say latex free on the package, and there's no way I can lay through that noise going way past full blown autie sensory overload, so I calculated that I could get through 20 minutes of ear plugs on the zyrtec I'd taken and then start slamming benadryl afterward if I came out with my cheeks all red and puffing up, so going in the tube first thing with anxiety on top of the claustrophobia, rightonrighton. I'd taken a whole xanax, thank goodness. I did take benadryl afterward, but had very little in the way of skin reaction. This is a big deal since I have to wash my hands after I put on my athletic shoes, and the last time I was in a shoe store I wound up in ER and the last time I had shea butter in PT my entire back turned a nasty neon pink. Latex allergies are super real, and it's everywhere. Anyhoo, I choose 50s music because the songs are shorter and I can count them. I figure 10 songs max, this time it took 8. Aspienado does a lot of counting during medical testing. The countdown is the only thing that keeps me from pushing that little button. Oh, and I no longer do contrast. I once had contrast reaction in the tube, and they didn't pull me out while I was begging to be pulled out. Yeah, what's the point of telling a claustrophobic there's a button if they ignore it during an actual reaction. My skin was on fire from head to toe like I was really burning, and by the time they got me out of there I was a weepy mess. I am so very lucky that reaction wasn't worse. Back in 2008 I was ignored, well, nowadays they are required to put a reaction disclaimer in every room where you change into your little gown. I don't do gadol any more, thanx. Anyway, you can see that only added to the overall anxiety problems, right?

Reality check 2- Laying rock still for 20 minutes in an uncomfortable position under duress triggers fantastic pain spikes for several days, no matter how much sedation you're on. Fibro blows up and then goes into full spasm lock mode, nerve trunks and nerve centers light up like it's Black Friday, and there is absolutely nothing any more I can take to make any of it stop or even slow down. I just have to grit my teeth and keep myself distracted and busy till it all calms down again. A simple 20 minute MRI can affect me for days.

I've talked about anxiety and PTSD, and y'all know I'm home alone 12 hours a day, so I thought Hey, why not share how I deal with this? Because I'm not popping pills and calling people, right? So this is Aspienado's tutorial on how I get through a major anxiety spike, like I'm having this morning.

There are nerve centers in your back under your shoulder blades that can trigger upward and wreak havoc, sometimes resulting in nasty headaches or wild lightning pain spikes shooting around your torso in various ways. I've learned over many years that the worst of this lasts about 20 minutes for me and then starts ebbing, so once it kicks up to the top notch, I just hafta get through 20 minutes and then coast down during the rest of it, which can take anywhere from another 20 minutes to several hours. BUT, that first 20 minutes is pure hell, thanks to a big chemical dump on my nervous system.

I used to go to ER. During that first 20 minutes I mimic every symptom of heart attack and stroke, and I've been through the whole EKG, CT, x-ray, holter monitor so many times that I finally decided the only way I might ever be able to tell if I'm really having one is whether I'm still able to easily breathe, so that's the first thing I do, take a deep breath and ignore the pain spikes that rip around my ribcage, because fibro of the chest wall is a real thing and can be easily confused with other real things like pleurisy, which is also exquisitely painful. (Don't ignore this part in case you have a blood clot in your lung, women on birth control, especially smokers, are high risk for that.) So I'm breathing ok, I can walk without gasping, so the next thing I do is get a big drink of water and make sure I've taken my pills correctly for the day. Hydration is pretty awesome, and missing pills can get pretty stupid.

After that, if I'm still walking around breathing ok without any dizziness or something else taking me down, I go through all the motions of getting ready for work, like I used to do in the old days. It's amazing how focusing on obsessing over brushing and flossing your teeth can actually help get you through part of that nasty anxiety attack. It's not only useful and healthy, but after the anxiety comes down you have fresh breath. Hey, I'm not laughing, this is really real for me. I brush my teeth a LOT, and guess what- I don't get cavities, and I've only ever had one root canal in my whole life. (Imagine the anxiety that'll save you at the dentist!) I'm not saying brushing your teeth saves anything if you're genetically inclined for something like receding gums (that's a real thing), but it's still useful. And you can think of other things instead of thinking about dying while you brush your teeth, like how you never see actors with less than glossy teeth, and then you wonder what sort of regime they must go through every single day to always have such clean looking teeth. By the time I'm done drinking my glass of water and checking my pills and brushing my teeth, I've made it through at least 4 minutes of the worst part of the anxiety attack. If you're not taking that long, go back and floss! Doing a crap job won't make the anxiety attack any shorter.

Next is clean clothes. Just strip off, start all over with deodorant and a washcloth and fresh clothes, and then brush your hair. I can't do makeup because allergic (thank you nuts and citrus and the word 'bright' in cosmetic sales), so sometimes if it's really bad I look for weird little hairs to tweeze or something. If I find myself getting lost in that, I know I'll be fine, but sometimes it's just really bad and I can't stand there and have to keep moving.

So after that is getting shoes on, even if I'm not going anywhere. I get my shoes on, make sure my bugout bag and epipurse are stocked, and if I'm not doing any worse by then, I start walking mini laps around my house. I have one of those houses where you can walk from room to room around in a circle back to where you were, so that's my racetrack. If the anxiety is still spiking, I hafta kinda hold myself back a bit so I won't load more heart work on, because anxiety is already stressing cardiovascular, right? But a steady walk usually helps. Sometimes just 5 or 10 minutes of relaxed walking does the trick, and while I walk I can continue to assess how I'm doing or distract myself thinking about other stuff. Sometimes I pick up the house while I walk the racetrack, start a load of laundry or a load dishes soaking, and I've actually been known to come out of anxiety attacks with a cleaner house. Srsly, all the time, guys. I live like this. It is getting better over time, but for a number of years it was pure hell nearly every single day.

During all this, I'm usually dealing with random nasty pain spiking out from the nerve center under my left shoulder blade, damage that goes back to a bad car accident and virtually unreachable in physical therapy. I have a special stretch I can do for a particular muscle that runs underneath, but beyond that, it's all a waiting game. Laying still in an MRI for 20 minutes really sucks to trigger that nerve center for several days, and this morning (3rd day out) is hopefully the last big gasp before it lets go in there. There's nothing like a pain spike to trigger an anxiety attack, and when your pain is unfocused and vague and running along nerve pathways, it's really difficult to tell whether it's something immediately life threatening. Stay off WebMD while you're spiking pain through anxiety attacks. When in doubt, just call 9-1-1. You won't be able to tell if your anxiety attack is ebbing if you keep triggering it with more fear. Just saying. Years of experience here.

My pain spikes travel along nerve pathways, and the word for it feeling like lightning is Lhermitte's. I still have no evidence of MS (they've been checking for years) and a rheumatologist once told me I perfectly described Lyme (I tested positive as a carrier and it's known to neurologically affect people for years, but my doctors still ignore it as causative of anything current), but I did get a solid Lhermitte's notation from a pain specialist in a surgical center several years ago. (A couple of people I know who've had shingles say it sounds like I've lived in continual shingles-like pain most of my adult life, so there you go if you need context.) I go through stringent medical assessment every little bit, and so far the best we can do is 'pain disorder' along with fibromyalgia, although I did finally get a trigeminal neuralgia note in my history, which I'm pretty sure started with being thrown out of a vehicle. Anyway, I'm always very glad they never find any hard evidence for why the pain spikes happen, but that doesn't make it less real, and my medical team in the Mercy system is very sweet to help me find ways to handle living like this.

Anyway, the point is that it doesn't take much to trigger pain and stress, and then it doesn't take much for those to trigger anxiety attacks and PTSD, and then it's all about getting through that horrible surge of fight of flight gripping you when a bunch of chemicals very suddenly dump into your bloodstream without any warning. One thing I've learned to do is check my blood sugar. You'd be surprised how often anxiety attacks follow on the heels of a glucose spike when you're diabetic. I'm not saying glucose spikes cause anxiety attacks, just saying a carby meal can sure make them worse if you are prone to them and have diabetes. Lots of experience here. Don't eat a bunch of sweets for breakfast, ok? Eat proteins and healthy fats so your body can work through that anxiety attack more efficiently.

During the anxiety attack your blood pressure can go nuts, too, and I've learned to NOT check it, because it'll be scary and then go even higher. My highest recorded is 230/115 or something like that. I know someone who's gone higher. If your blood pressure popping freaks you out, you can call 9-1-1 and they'll get you on oxygen and sometimes IV, spray nitro under your tongue, and by the time you get to ER it'll already be coming down if there's nothing else going on besides the anxiety attack. I've done this so many times. Local ambulance noted I'm a frequent flyer several years ago, and as insurance and medicare really don't like picking up that tab, I am doing better and better about getting through these nasty 'panic attacks' all by myself because I'd rather spend what little money I have on food and tech and stuff. Remember, I'm home alone 12 hours a day, and I'm way out of town. Most of my neighbors (I have 3 close by) are gone during the day. It's up to me to learn how to deal with my stuff. Yes, I have actually learned how to prioritize having anxiety attacks so I don't have to deal with the added fear and guilt that comes with how much money they cost, although some people do the opposite and drop dead at home because they don't think it's worth finding out nothing's wrong, so don't be dumb about it, ok? There really are people out there going to ER every day during bad PTSD months and others that eventually get found alone in their houses, so- moderation. You don't have to assume something is wrong or not wrong, all you have to do is NOTICE THE PATTERN.

It takes time. Keep notes. Look at the clock, notice how you feel, write it down, look back at the clock in a couple minutes, notice how you feel again, write it down, and do this every time you have an anxiety attack. It didn't take more than 5 of them for me to realize I actually have a pattern. Some people have different patterns. After noting my pattern- 20 minutes of hell followed by 2 to 4 hours of misery but lessening fear- I began noting events leading up to the anxiety attacks going off. I have figured out several trigger events, and that some of them aren't even true anxiety attacks! Some of it was actually food reactions, imagine that. Stop eating something, fewer anxiety attacks. I can't eat a lot of potatoes. I hold back on them anyway because I'm diabetic, but guess what- people with latex allergies are supposed to be weary of potatoes. Wild, huh? So if I eat a half a baked potato once a week, I usually eat one of those chewable children's benadryls with it (I also take a zyrtec once a day), and I don't seem to have that problem. Sometimes I need a little benadryl when I eat a big salad. During peak allergy seasons, my higher histamine levels seem to make me more food reactive, and if I'm not paying attention, it feels like I'm having an anxiety attack, when really it's a food irritation.

And then there are stress triggers. I'm extremely triggerable. I avoid so much stuff to avoid either weeping all day or going into massive anxiety attacks, including entire radio stations, most of the facebook and twitter people I follow, nearly everything related to news updates, pretty much anything that triggers me emotionally. (This was way worse on muscle relaxers and other meds that can affect mood. Getting slowly cleaned off meds helped me a LOT with the continual trigger thing. Please remember I did this under supervision from my doctor and a psychologist, and then it had to be approved by a psychiatrist, which took another year. Supervision is key. Be honest with your medical team and trust them to really help you.) Once an emotional trigger hits me, I just toss off the rest of the day, because I generally don't recover from that kind of trigger, and if I don't want to wind up having anxiety attacks, I have to just ignore everything and everyone and stay busy writing or cleaning my house or whatever. Nowadays it's minecraft, thank goodness. We've all noticed it's getting worse as I get older, and I think it has everything to do with progressive nervous system something going on, because I've been dealing with nervous system problems since my 20s. Call it Lyme or fibro or whatevs, I don't care. There's no cure coming and since it's apparently affecting my brain, all my plans going forward revolve around crash control, every single day, any given moment. I'm "brain training". My number one goal is even if everything else fails, including memory, I want to be pleasant enough for my family to handle being around me, so I'm doing my best to brain train every day toward less negativity, less automatic reaction kind of stuff, more blowing off what I don't get right way, letting go of control issues, learning the ways of automated politeness, anything that will stave off regrets with my loved ones.

My mom went down smiling. She was so brain trained from childhood to keep that mask on that 5 years of nursing home staff never had a real clue just how much pain she was in, because she would only cry for us. I'm very different from her, masks come clattering off and I fight for what I need, especially if the world isn't making sense. I'm looking for the happy medium nowadays, learning how to trust other people to take care of things and look out for me. I was often left to my own emotional and even physical survival as a child, so trust is a huge thing for me to learn.

I think there are lots of people out there like me, caught in between the old timers and the younger hipster gen, and we're confused how to be ourselves and be honest without becoming the legendary crabby old person. We don't want to become what others mock. We watch ourselves losing who we were, not sure who we still are sometimes, knowing we're still important but not sure what to do with it.

Well, this is what you do with it. Share what you've learned. Other people still need us to see how to handle the scary stuff. Getting older and surviving crap isn't a joke, and there are other people following us that want to know they're going to be ok going down this road, too, and there's not a soul on this earth who won't.

You're going to be ok. Go brush your teeth when you're scared. Think about how you never see your fave celebrity with sticky teeth and how it would be cool to have lots of money to blow getting mouth swag. Or something else if that's not your thing.

wizard level unlocked

I haven't been very bloggy over here, have I? But I do have a few things that need to be noted.

natural red light from a heat lamp bulb, not edited

First off, still have hair, yay! Went through a month over the summer where I lost a bit again, have a couple of kinda bare patches, but I think those were the roots resting and now there is new growth coming in there again. I just can't believe it's this long. I don't think it's been this long in over ten years. Again, diet change. Cannot express enough what a difference dropping carbs and adding more protein and some healthy fats has made. No other special anything at all because I'm allergic to everything- can't use product, no special vitamins or natural treatments. Growth starts on the inside.

That is also my real skin. too. No makeup at all (except penciled eyebrows, stopped growing eyebrows years ago), never mask or exfoliate, no cover ups of any kind, just the barest bit of Johnson's baby lotion because, again, I'm allergic to everything. Several years ago I had to be crashed off birth control (and then crashed off my thyroid med for a couple of months), and after I went through all that, a gyno specialist told me I'd start to see some aging now. I was on birth control for about 25 years, and controlled hormones have a lot to do with skin anti-aging or something. He's right, I've seen a little aging since then, but other people can't tell because I'm supposed to look older than this. I'm the only one in my family who's been able to tolerate birth control (we're all PCOS), but it wreaked havoc with my blood pressure and we finally just couldn't control it any more with meds. HOWEVER. My skin did not look this good until the last couple of years. It looked very unhealthy and gross because my overall health wasn't good, which leads to the next paragraph.

My diabetes is more controlled than it's ever been because I've become so used to naturally watching what I eat. (Remember, a doctor pulled me off meds because I'm so med intolerant.) My fasting glucose regularly ranges from 84-96 without even trying, but I still spike real bad if I eat the wrong stuff, so I can't just munch out willy nilly. Because my blood sugar stays in the normal range throughout the day (rarely goes over 140 on a snacky day, usually 130 tops after eating, and I know this because I test), I continue to have a much easier time with headaches, joint pains, and whatever viruses are going around than I used to in the old days when I was more miserable all the time. Also, I've noted on this blog what a huge difference keeping my blood sugar down has made on my anxiety, which in the past has been noted many times as "severe". All these things being so positively impacted by diet control means I can handle getting through every day with far less medication nowadays, which is awesome, despite what I'm about to write in the next paragraph.

My fibromyalgia has always been documented as "severe", but over this last year, several assessments during therapy programs have noted a strong fibrotic response (scarring throughout my tissues) that will probably need to be maintained regularly (deep tissue work to keep it microfissured as my muscles harden), several areas down both arms that had developed nerve entrapment (requiring deep soft tissue work), and "moderate" to "significant" localized arthritis in my spine (requiring more core strength and flexibility training). So far nothing terrible or immediately worrisome (although hella painful), but definitely will cripple me back up if I don't stay on it. When I first started therapies about 4 years ago and saw improvement, I thought each improvement would be another solid step up, but I'm finding out that reconditioning and healing aren't permanent unless they are regularly maintained. If I don't want to be crippled again, like I was from summer 2007 to summer 2014 (yes, that's how long I was descending and fighting my way back out of complete immobility), it's up to me to stay on top of being able to keep moving for the rest of my life. I know from hard experience that not a single one of the handfuls of meds they had me on for years stopped any of that, and I wound up having to get off all that stuff just to become functional again. I'm happy to say this last year has been my most functional ever since 2004.

Bringing up 2004 opens the door for cognitive assessment, because that was the year I went through brain fail and finally had to quit work and could barely handle going back to college for one semester afterward. I went from brainiac to ignoramous in a few short weeks, thanks to a viral infection that hit my nervous system and affected brain function. I lived with severe brain fog and memory problems for years afterward, but over this last year have started seeing remarkable improvement in capability and function. I still go through some brain fog and short term memory deficit when I'm tired, but considering how difficult it was to string sentences together into paragraphs and make a single blog post around this time 3 years ago (I really like that post, I'm glad I wrote it, took hours), I feel like I'm in the fast lane now, even though I haven't yet gotten back to what I was capable of before 2004. What I'm saying is, the sentences fly out on their own now. I don't have to think about it any more. I still make loads of typos, but after several paragraphs fly out of my fingers, I just laugh now.

The next bit is my favorite. I haven't gone autoimmune all year. I even got permission from my doctor to try to go autoimmune, really push myself and see if I could flare up, and even though I hit a few hard walls, it just never happened. I still have to be careful about autoimmune hyper response around things that trigger allergic reactions, but so far so good, best year I've had in a very long time. I have to wonder if a lot of that is keeping my diabetes controlled. My body is healthier, so it's not falling all over itself over responding to stress and fatigue.

The reason I started this particular blog was because I needed some place to write the truth about the person behind the other blogs, where I do way more fun and distracting writing. I needed a place to practice learning how to say the hard stuff without being a drag. Over time it became a blog of hope. You guys really would not believe how crippled and ugly I got for several years. It was so terribly depressing, and I really did believe I was going to die soon. You know what? I decided I'm not dying yet. I'm not DONE yet. I have more to do, more to say, more to see and hear and know. I'm very lucky that we have internet nowadays to help me find information and figure out how to apply it to my own life.

I know it's hard. I know you might not believe me. But I also know there's hope. If you are not willing to give up what's killing you, that's your business and your choice. It's not a sin to die naturally from old age and illness and just getting worn out. But in case you aren't done yet, go back through this blog and follow me out of your hell. If you want this, you can do this. You've gotta want it more than anything. You'll have very hard days (but when do we not?) and feel discouraged (we feel that anyway) and sometimes you'll backslide (that part is really eye opening for seeing how far you've really come), but one day you'll wake up and go Wo, how. did. I. get. here???  I can breathe again, I can bend again, I can smile at people again. I can THINK again. There are some wonderful moments waiting for you down the hard road.

We can do this, guys.

I should be dancing

My physical therapy homework until I go back in a couple weeks to dive back into deep tissue therapy via aggressive ASTYM (basically, targeted micro-shredding to induce directed healing) is neural glides for my old friends (and yours), the median, radial, and ulnar nerve branches that run down the length of our arms. I knew my hands were hurting, but holy cow. And that was just the opener.

The goal going back in is simple- to experiment. Also to keep improving, but the reason my doctor approved MOAR is so a professional can observe how I trigger upper core flares (a wall I've kept hitting for years that we haven't broken through yet, resulting in 10-level pain and nasty headaches), figure out if she can fix that problem (deep tissue work, pinpointing problematic nerve dysfunction, if any), and if not, go back to my doctor during a flare and get the kind of bloodwork that would determine whether I'm actually stimulating autoimmune response (which would need medical treatment to control) or just kicking off a really badass fibro feedback flare that no one knows what to do with any more.

Quick review if you're new to me- I was told in my mid-20's before the word 'fibrositis' became medically fashionable (pre-fibro days) that I would wind up in a nursing home by my 40's because there is no cure. I watched my mother do exactly that (not as quickly as her 40's, thanks to pain pills and stuff), slowly paralyzing into severe 'frozen shoulders' and deficits until she was completely disabled. A few decades ago it wasn't uncommon to see older people's arms and hands curl up into hardened knots until they couldn't even hold something, mostly passed off as an arthritic condition. I got my first muscle contracture down my left arm during nursing school, but since I was learning all about contractures, I used my jeans pocket to hook a finger on while I'd casually stretch-flex my wrist to pull that muscle out without anyone noticing what I was doing, and over a couple of months the contracture eased up and disappeared. I only happened to notice it one day because I looked down and saw that, even though my arm was hanging straight down, my hand was cinched up crooked at my wrist. It didn't hurt at all at the time. If I hadn't know what it was, I'd have blown it off and it would've gotten worse.

Because of nursing school, I've been very aware of what's going on in my body over time and have been able to communicate well with people helping me with my medical difficulties. Most of my progress the last seven years is me making the decision that I want to be as functional as I can for as long as I can, no matter what the cost, even if I go through more pain doing it. I had nothing left to lose by the time I made that decision.

Today's assessment was one of the most validating I've ever been through. It's nice that a person can see from my history that I'm willing to do anything to improve, which means I'm actively willing to allow someone to cause me more pain in order to gain more control over the pain I live with. It took only seconds for her to determine I'm left-side weak and severely right-side nerve responsive. (Those few seconds made it really hard to make a quick stop at Target and then drive home, my arms felt so rough. She used the same moves Steven Seagal uses on perps, only more nicely.) The next steps will be to explore if and where I might have nerve entrapment and whether upper core strengthening will have anything to do with pain control or just keep making it worse.

If you need context, one of the questions was whether pain keeps me from reading books. YES. I cannot hold a book. I must use a table to hold the book or read from my laptop screen. Years of dropping things. No one really knows the love that goes into preparing meals when one can barely use their arms and fakes their way through it all pretending nothing is wrong. And, like I said, my hands are just the first step in the door.

A doctor told me one year I perfectly described ankylosing spondilitis, but there's no visible sign of it. Another doctor is convinced I had a Lyme event (I tested positive), but there is nothing anyone can do about it decades later. Another doctor kept checking me for multiple sclerosis. About 18 months or so ago, an ER doctor made sure I didn't have lupus involvement in my brain. I've been cleared for tumors, aneurysms, strokes, spinal fluid problems, and brain cancer so many times I've lost count.

Fibromyalgia isn't supposed to be progressive or a true inflammatory disease, 'just' a disorder (or two, or three) that isn't supposed to affect overall mortality. The incongruity of being comforted by someone saying "Well, at least it isn't killing you" when they have no answers is like telling someone who lost a limb in an accident "At least you didn't lose your life"- No, but you lost function, to which they reply Ah, but not really lose function, like a true progressive condition, to which I reply, Ah, but lost quality of life. I've lost so much more than a person who's lost a limb.

When every move a person makes every single hour of every single day of every single week of every single month of every single year for decades is based on a unfortunately misinterpreted nervous system signal during an unapologetically long and miserable existence, one might question whether existence is even necessary, much less the kindness and charity we're supposed to develop along with it. Because, and I don't know about you guys, I feel like plowing through a placid crowd of movie goers like Ash with his chainsaw on most days. The argument over whether the pain is 'real' or not is ridiculously beside the point. Here, step into my body for a few minutes...

So when a physical therapist actually looks thrilled that I'm clearly begging her to hurt me even more so that she can do her job better, and she can tell that I'll actually be an enthusiastic compliant cooperative patient instead of the usual crabby drudge that drops out before they get anywhere because 'it hurts', I know I've made someone's day. It was like handing her chocolate cake and tickets to a Halloween screamfest or something. All grins. I think she's going to be my favorite.

Yes, IT HURTS. But every single day of my life HURTS, and every single thing I do HURTS, so why not explore just how far I can go with this? It's going to hurt anyway, for crying out loud.

This is my head when I find people who are willing to go into my pain with me and help me find ways to keep living with it, ways to control it, and even ways to improve it. Yes, it takes years and the kind of determination that makes regular people quail and cringe, but until the day I die, I want this to be me in my head.

Hugs to anyone reading this who hurts. We can do this. Especially in our heads.

middle of the night chronic spoonie lurker jackpot

Pix click out to other sites and sources. Some amusingly have nothing to do with what we're talking about.

I was very ill for about a year before I finally felt desperate enough to seek out medical help. I'd lost 75 pounds and hurt profusely all over, and felt like my spine was being microwaved, as if the spinal cord must have a fever. My first doctor was an ancient country doctor on the brink of retirement. My bloodwork inspired him to let me know I would be in a nursing home by 40, and that there was nothing that could be done. Then he prescribed the biggest jar of aspirin I ever saw in my life and told me to take it every day. About a couple of weeks into the aspirin I went through a full week of hallucinating and 'visions' and should probably have been in a hospital. I never went back to that doctor, and stopped the aspirin. I was in my mid 20s.

A few months after that I dragged myself into a city clinic and saw a real rheumatologist. He asked why I was there. I told him I thought I might have lupus. He asked me ten questions, and I said yes to all ten, including losing my hair, which was noticeable to my family. Without ordering a single blood test, he laughed and told me I don't look sick, and said I was skipping down a rosy little path to a psychiatric illness. I dragged back out to my car and sat there crying for almost an hour. Note- several years later, a doctor sent me back to that same rheumatologist who was now in an even bigger clinic, and after touching my rock hard shoulders exclaimed that I had the worst fibromayalgia he'd ever seen and demanded to know why I wasn't being treated for it.

I was too devastated to try again for another year, until I finally couldn't take it any more. It was a horrible time for single parents on medicaid, no clinic I called would take me. I finally drove back to the city to a clinic I hadn't called yet and dragged from office to office asking if someone could please see me. Finally, on the third floor, one doctor said yes and saw me that day.

From Fibromyalgia- University of Maryland Medical Center
"Fibromyalgia can be difficult to diagnose. It can take 5 years for the average person with the condition to finally get a diagnosis. As many as three out of every four people with fibromyalgia remain undiagnosed."
I was fast tracked to rheum and diagnosed within a week.

From Do I have lupus or fibromyalgia?- Fibromyalgia Information Foundation
"As many of the symptoms of fibromyalgia are similar to those experienced by lupus patients, there is a natural concern that the symptoms of a fibromyalgia flare could be the underlying lupus picking up steam. Ultimately, the treating physician has to make a call on these increased symptoms. In general, lupus patients who are undergoing a flare have other findings; such as evidence of true arthritis (usually with joint swelling), skin rashes, sores in their mouth, fever, hair fall or evidence of specific organ disease such as pleurisy or microscopic amounts of blood and protein in the urine. Furthermore, in active lupus, blood tests such as the sedimentation rate often become elevated, the white count (particularly the lymphocyte subset) becomes depressed and there is often an increase in the level of anti-DNA antibodies. None of these findings are a feature of fibromyalgia -- thus the distinction between a flare of fibromyalgia and a flare of lupus should not be too difficult if the problem is approached systematically."
I was also dx'd simultaneously and treated immediately for lupus based on positive ANA and high SEDs which refused to come down for several years even on meds. Medicaid wasn't paying for a new drug called Ansaid, so my doctor kept me on samples for five months. I credit him with saving my life. He also dx'd me with Hashimoto's (autoimmune thyroid) about a year later, based on radioactive iodine uptake.

My SEDs hovered between 75 and 100 for several years. I felt like my bones had been crushed and nothing touched the pain, but the Ansaid kept me functioning enough to work on my college degree.

In the years since, photosensitivity called polymorphic light eruption (PLE) was confirmed by a dermatologist, a liver condition called NASH was confirmed by an endocrinologist, and I underwent heart surgery at 38 to correct a rhythm problem that started in high school after I had measles, which I just lived with until it became unbearable. During my worst year I went through nerve fail which caused such severe dry eye (I still make only 3% moisture in one eye, confirmed by an opthamolagist) and dry mouth that I developed cavities all over my mouth. My dentist was thrilled when the moisture finally came back on, and I have had only one cavity in the years since.

I'm also positive for lyme, esptein-barr, bartonella, and CMV, plus I had the measles in high school. What doesn't kill you doesn't always make you stronger. Sometimes it makes you a puny sickie.

Why am I saying all this? Because I still have doctors asking Are you sure it's lupus? (Yeah, they're asking me.) I've never been hospitalized and managed to fake my way through 15 months on a desk job (my last job after years of more laborious jobs) without missing a day before I finally fell apart because when I was growing up, we never went to doctors. I grew up on a farm working like a dog since I was very young, pushing animals 4-8 times my size around regularly, and using my hands so hard that I'd developed carpal tunnel by the time I was in high school (recently confirmed as 'severe' by a neurologist). Then I went on to survive being thrown out of a car crash without any pain meds at all. After living with nasty trigeminal pain from damage for years, a neurologist finally dx'd me with trigeminal neuralgia.

I've come through a whole lot of thick and thin, have been through several epic health crashes, but what started turning it all around was 1- finally being dx'd with diabetes and changing my diet, and 2- slowly weaning off the handfuls of meds that kept me 'drunk' for years. AFTER THESE TWO THINGS, my liver tests finally went back into a normal range. I had elevated liver enzymes for two decades until I changed those two things. One year my liver was so sick that my doctor wanted to test me for autoimmune liver disease, but I felt too rotten to go through a long needle penetration. I still get symptoms once in awhile, so maybe I do, but it sucks so I avoid flaring it as much as possible.

Ever since I made these changes, which have taken several years (four years since the diet changes, seven years since I first started weaning off meds one by one under doctor supervision), my health has slowly but steadily improved. I have come back from being convinced death was close (using a cane and sometimes a transport chair and daily advair just to be able to breathe, and needing help dressing and bathing), to living a pretty normal life in my own home now. I still have mini flares, I still get SED spikes once in awhile, but for the most part nearly everything in my body is improving as I age after years of immobility and misery.

I still look around for tips and advice from other spoonies on rough weeks, and what I call my rough weeks are still spectacularly rough compared to non-spoonies, but to me now, they're a vast improvement over rough years.

I wrote this down in one place to give other people hope. There really is hope.

If you are a very sick and puny person and are still drinking soda pop and smoking cigarettes, you cannot get better until you stop that.

If you are a fatigued scatterbrain who enjoys a little too much pasta and dessert, you cannot get more energy until you stop that.

If you are overworked and eating salads and and torturing yourself to 'be healthy', you cannot feel healthy until you stop that. Get some real rest and more protein in your diet.

If you are buying extra makeup and putting more chemicals in your hair trying not to look bad, stop that and take a step back- do a real self assessment, prioritize some goals, make a PLAN, and spend the next 2-5 years implementing. It took you years to go to pot, it'll take a few years to come back from that.

I am a workaholic. I'm also an alcoholic (20 years dry now), a very heavy smoker (3 packs a day, 25 years off now), a codeine-benzo-caffeine addict (never cold turkey off benzos, guys, it sucks and it's dangerous, and guess how I know that), a chocoholic (a severe nut allergy popping up cures that real quick, read a few labels and laugh with me about how most of the chocolate in the world is processed in facilities also processing nuts), a sweets junkie (I'm an artist with decadent baking), ok you get the point. All that stuff piles up. And once you've overloaded, it takes years to undo damage to your immune system, your liver and kidneys, your eyes, even your brain. You can't take ginseng and improve your brain power and still do all this stuff.

There are people out there who do everything right and don't get better. Hugs to you guys, I've watched a few friends go down and I know it's really hard. There are other people out there who do everything wrong and live long lives without ever getting sick or cancer. High five on you guys, good on your magic DNA. Trade me bodies sometime. And don't gloat or feel better than other people because we all know it was the luck of the draw, and it's not like you got to pick your body before you were born.

It's not your fault. Yes, we have science and medicine now, yes, you know better than to be ingesting things and not exercising and whatnot, but just because we know this stuff doesn't mean it's your fault. 300 years ago, people died all the time and no one knew why (unless it was murder or some crazy accident). Now we know why, and basically it really is the luck of the draw- you are stuck with the DNA you were born with. Some people are prone to cancers, some prone to diabetes, some prone to autoimmune problems, whatever. You were born that way.

True story. My husband's granny lived to 102 with full blown diabetes. She avoided stuff that spiked her blood sugar. Her daughter (my husband's mother) eats bags of candy and to this day in her 80s remains completely free of diabetes. Eating sugar doesn't cause diabetes, but it will make you very sick if you have diabetes. My husband has been hovering on the brink of 'pre-diabetes' (that's such a joke, just call it what it is) for years because he's a hard worker and manages to keep his fasting glucose low enough to keep the doctor hesitating, even though he carb loads like crazy sometimes. When he does that, his heart races, and we know there is some damage going on at the cellular level, but he thinks he can get away with cheating. He's never yet been treated and he doesn't count carbs, he just works really hard.

On the other hand, I come from everyone going diabetic on my mom's side, lots of strokes and vascular disease kind of stuff, and she didn't make it to 70. I watched diabetes destroy her. She suddenly started wasting away and I thought she had cancer. She said she never felt better in her life. I don't know if that was true, because I also know her feet started going numb, and it took her months to recover properly after a simple gall bladder surgery.

I was going down way faster than my mom. Way faster. Now I'm doing much better at this age than she did. Way better.

I just want to let you guys know there really is hope, but you are the one who has to decide whether to make it possible. Whatever your diagnosis, whether they're missing something or not, even if it feels dire, you can make decisions that change how you feel down the road. Where do you want to be in five years? Make a list. Fewer headaches, maybe. Heartburn gone for good. Bladder control. Less brain fog. A little more energy. You might surprise yourself if you make a decision and stick to it. Just 5 years ago I was using a motor cart to buy groceries. Now I trot all over Walmart.

Little steps over several years add up to really big changes.

TMI time, but you'll thank me

You know your physical therapy on lower back pain is working when sex pain dramatically decreases.

Sex and Low Back Pain
Best and Worst Sex Positions for Back Pain

I've been in and out of physical therapy for low back pain for a couple of years, and this round is more fine tuning specific weak spots because I started getting shooting nerve pain down to my foot several months ago, on top of a few other new pains. It wasn't exactly back to the drawing board, but I'm evidently still doing something that triggers enough extra nerve compression at L5S1 that it felt like everything suddenly got way worse. Well, they say it's a little worse, but still manageable, and the two big things I'm working on now are being aware of what I'm doing so I avoid the trigger movements (no more picking up little kids, basically) and tightening up my core strength around the muscle areas allowing the compression to worsen. Some people have more damage than me and less pain, others have less damage and more pain, so low back pain is a very individual experience.

I bet a lot of you didn't know that sex pain can be caused by nerve compression in the lower back. Even if you have no other back or leg pain, whatever position or movements you're doing could be all it takes, and wham, it feels like someone ripped a new hole or a stab goes down your leg, or suddenly your hip locks up and you're beating out a charley horse in your glut.

When my lower back first flared back up again, I couldn't tell it was my back. I had nasty pain all around my pelvis and it kept feeling like I had a terrible bladder infection. Over time I've been checked and cleared for several things, including cancers and tumors. Nothing was ever wrong. It wasn't until I went to physical therapy and started core strength training that I could tell (feel) it actually started in my back. The nerve compression made that spot in my back feel numb. I could tell, though, that simple things like sitting or standing too long made all the other pain worse, and I had to learn all over how to properly stretch, move, and even walk.

Part of all that was sex pain, and it got pretty excruciating off and on. I could never tell when it would be bad, and it would hit so hard and fast in the middle of it that I'd double up in pain. I blamed it on aging, a mild cystocele that my gyno assured me wasn't a problem, hormones, fibromyalgia- but it always gets better with physical therapy for my lower back.

The L5S1 is the most common site for lower back pain because that joint connection takes the most weight, and the nerve there branches out in such a way that all kinds of weird sensations or pain or numbness can travel around in the oddest ways, even if you still seem to be fully functional and capable.

Describing a new syndrome in L5-S1 disc herniation: Sexual and sphincter dysfunction without pain and muscle weakness (click)

"A syndrome in L5-S1 disc herniation with sexual and sphincter dysfunction without pain and muscle weakness was noted. We think that it is crucial for neurosurgeons to early realise that paralysis of the sphincter and sexual dysfunction are possible in patients with lumbar L5-S1 disc disease."

That basically means that sex pain and/or dysfunction might be a first warning sign of disc degeneration years ahead of disc damage showing up on x-rays or MRI. This goes for both men and women.

I can tell you from experience that pain meds and sitting around on a couch do NOT make this any better, even if the pain lessens. The only thing that has genuinely improved this kind of pain for me is core stretches and exercises specifically designed to strengthen the muscles that support the spine. (That is why it's called core.)

Even if you normally don't work out and hate exercise, you will love core if you spend a little time getting through the tough first day or week, and after that it becomes the tough first few minutes, and over time your body will almost beg you to do something core. Like hang a leg off a bed a certain way. I didn't know that was a core stretch that can relieve pressure right there on that spot, and after I've done the core stuff, which takes about 15-20 minutes if I do everything I'm told, the pain lessens quite dramatically, especially now that I've been using physical therapy somewhat regularly to control my pain. No pills I ever took made the pain lighten up like that, and I've taken handfuls of gigantic and very colorful pills in my life. I was even crippled for a couple of years because the pain was so bad. My worst year I thought I'd never be able to dress myself again.

Or have sex.

I'm having sex, guys.

mean is how I show my love

There's a new policy agreement I had to sign before my physical therapy assessment this time. They have so many no-shows and cancellations that they're losing a substantial amount of money flow, and THAT, my friends, is why insurance is so stupidly high. Don't blame it all on poor people and ERs. Blame the people who have insurance and medicare who are purposely noncompliant with care plans.

Physical therapy is hard work. It's not for the faint of heart. I've been there- in and out of wheelchairs, using a cane, needing a driver and assistance in and out of the shower, and help getting dressed. I know exactly what it feels like to be a burden and spiral down a black hole of hopelessness. I'm such a good friend with pain that I actually miss it when it's gone, because I almost get high off of it, even without meds.

It's so easy to take the whiny way out. I hurt. Yeah, join the club. I have a headache. My worst headache lasted 6 weeks and I got at most ten minutes of sleep at a time that entire time, because it was so bad I couldn't even lay down, so I hear ya. It's hard. So is having babies, and that's not stopping anybody. I can't do it. Then curl up and die, you big baby.

That's me talking to my head. I have said all the things everyone else has said. And then I kicked my butt and slammed my head into a wall and GOT TO WORK. I got pissed off enough to get up and do something about my whining.

It was hard believing I could do this. Every morning I had to actually literally SAY "I can do this." Sometimes it was just a whisper in my mind while I cried. Sometimes it was a hopeless defiant shout in the dark. But many times I really did say it out loud on my way in to physical therapy.

Yesterday was hard. I'm in a better place than I've been in years, but it was still hard getting through another assessment and core review. I'm not out of the woods. I can't just flop my body into a chair and pop pain pills when I sit too long. I can't be lazy without backsliding into more pain and disability and eventually major surgery. Yes, I can ask them to turn the pain off and risk paralysis and sepsis and a whole list of other possibilities in a 50/50 gamble, because that's what surgical pain management is. It doesn't fix anything. It actually harms the body even more so you just can't feel it. There's no guarantee how long it'll last, and once it's done you can't go back and undo it. I know too many people this has backfired on. It's way too easy to skip ahead to the last resort and then hear the horror stories- multiple procedures melting down into meth addiction trying to handle pain that simply can't be killed off. Procedures that went well but then catastrophic fail happened after a blood clot in the spine, making the disability so much worse than it was before. Pain being replaced with maddening numbness. Asking someone to cauterize a nerve is such a leap of faith, I can't imagine doing that unless I was ready to commit suicide anyway. My psychologist told me a few times I'm a cynic. That's putting it mildly. I look at it like this- if a surgeon tells me he won't do pain control on me even in radiology with a needle because my history contraindicates success (nice of him to be honest), then I'm going to find another way to live like this.

There is this wonderful program in place to help people who are sinking into quagmires of pain and disability. It's called physical therapy. It's there for just about everyone- medicare is very supportive, and most insurance plans will take the brunt of the cost. All it takes is a person telling their doctor they'd like some help with a specific pain- how to move correctly, how to strengthen that area, how to become more functional around the house. I can say from experience that it's like working miracles, but it takes participation. You can get a whole team of people in on it, and they'll all tell you the same thing- pain shots, PT, and even surgery all work better with regular stretching and exercise, and good nutrition and hydration. You wanna heal? Cut the crap. You don't make a car run better pouring sugar in the gas tank. You don't stick a cigarette in your dog's mouth. You don't give babies beer bottles. You don't pick a fantasy football player who doesn't make the workouts. The logic is sound. All we have to do is apply it.

Several years ago I made a decision. Do I want to LIVE? If I don't save myself, no one else has to. Get out there and GET TO WORK. It made differences nothing else ever did.

I went through a little backsliding the last 8 months, so I'm back in GET TO WORK mode. I'm slapping myself to get up and MOVE, I'm plugging my ears and singing lalalalala when my head whines that this is too hard, I'm gritting my teeth and psyching up and telling myself that actors and professional athletes are where they are because they were willing to work for it. There is nothing in this world saying a writer doesn't need that kind of one on one physical training, as well. Sitting in a chair writing words isn't easy. Anyone who thinks it's easy is an idiot.

I know I sound mean. Sometimes you gotta get mean if you wanna stick around longer for your family. Whining my way to an early grave is unacceptable to me. I've got things to do, people to meet, a world to change...

The Darker Side of the Force- Sith Lords and Carpal Tunnel

I think the reason the Force was invented was because of carpal tunnel. Everyone keeps dropping their weapons at inopportune times, just easier to will stuff to fly off a wall than hang on to your lightsaber. The worse your carpal tunnel, the more powerful you become in the Force.

My challenge is eggs. Well, anything smooth and curved that I can't hook a finger on or scoop from underneath well or catch on an angle. But eggs got so bad I stopped eating them. I know what you're thinking, all I have to do is just turn my arm over and cradle the egg till I get to where I'm going with it. BUT, first you have to grip it in order to get it to turn with your hand as your arm turns over... I have dropped so many eggs. It got so bad that I learned not to stoop and clean it up because I'd drop the next one, as well, may as well clean up two at the same time. Or three, you get the picture. Got the bright idea to grab the carton to carry over, dropped the carton, most of the eggs smashed. Use the two-hand-gentle-hug-to-the-chest method and then drop it at the destination. Some days it looks a little spectacular, like I'm tossing them around on purpose. Solution? Don't eat eggs.

Click for more fun stuff

Yesterday I learned all about a cool torture called needle EMG testing for if I ever snap and lash out on the world, except I got to learn it the hard way with the needles stuck into me. If you'd like to learn how to torture, as well, here's an intro. Some people make really good money doing this. After a bit of questioning, it became clear to the neurologist that my labor-intensive childhood probably ruined (my word) my hands, because I've spent my entire adult life dropping/throwing things. Years of milking goats by hand (yes, I'm serious), helping move hay bails, holding heavy animals still (imagine your children tangling with animals 4X their size or weight), and hand cranking meat grinders (I beat you all at 'organic living'), plucking mountains of chickens and pitting gallons of cherries, shucking rows and rows of corn and peas- my hands ache just remembering this stuff.

Click for cool behind the scenes info

I watch the Food Network for chuckles. I like seeing professionals sweat and freak out in Kitchen Stadium and noobs fall to pieces in competition shows.

Free plug, check it out

Fave SW comic routine ever. (language caution)


Actually went in for my left elbow, which turned out to be, laughably, nothing compared to what I didn't know about my right hand. Never mind that I've been living with every single symptom of carpal tunnel for years now, to the point of not being able to sign checks or tie shoes during part of my 40s. I'm being extremely serious, I literally could not turn door knobs or keys or can openers or even make a pony tail. Never once dawned on me that was carpal tunnel because I've had so much other nerve stuff going on all over my body anyway that I thought it was all part of the same thing. Apparently not. I thought I've been using my hands much better nowadays, can do all kinds of stuff now, so I was very surprised how quickly I crumbled when we started on my right hand. By crumble I mean uncontrollable weeping. (@bonenado would have fainted.) I barely had the power to point my index finger while that needle was poking in my muscle, pushing back was nearly impossible, like all my strength went super fail. I may have broken and confessed a few of my lesser crimes, but I never once slugged the neurologist, as badly as I wanted to. I asked him if anyone had ever hit him, which probably wound up in his notes...

Click for instructional video

(If you clicked and watched that video and want to see more, here you go.)

Solution for left elbow- stop picking Bunny up, because I keep super fibro flaring around the joint.

Solution for hand(s), YES, HANDSSSS, more surgeries any time I decide I'm ready for them. You know what this means? I'm up to four surgeries now any time I want them. My jaw dropped, b@*#k that. In the meantime, I have been commanded to REST MY HANDS. This means I'll be practicing surprise levitation on random people using only the power of my mind.

I hope to one day recruit an assistant to handle the lesser duties of my Dark Side while I continue to hone my Force choking skillz. In the meantime, every day I'm keyboarding.

spoonies and the periodic table- stop throwing darts at your life

I may be formally redacting my new year's resolution to avoid chocolate, and I'll tell you why. I used to get magnesium in my diet via cashews, which I loved until that blew up into an anaphylactic reaction back in 2011. Since then I've been ordered by several doctors to avoid all nuts, including even more foods by family extension. The next best thing on the list (besides whole grains, which I don't pursue because diabetes) is leafy greens. I'm discovering that even though brussels sprouts qualifies even more than leafy greens, it somehow fails to make the usual leafy green list, but since I love brussels sprouts, yay.

However, after a series of food reactions last September, I chopped out several major food items for a length of time, particularly chocolate since it is known to raise histamine levels. Up to that point, I'd been eating at least one teaspoon or more of cocoa powder nearly every day for years because I make my own hot chocolate with my favorite protein powder. Cocoa powder is rich in magnesium, and although it's difficult to eat enough of it on a continual basis to be worth it (let's assume I don't want the extra glucose and calories and caffeine), it does actually make sense to include it if I do so sensibly. I'm making this decision after I got this test result back.

One of the most noticeable changes I've had over the fall/winter holidays is my fibromyalgia doing something new. I've been getting long hard streaks in major muscle groups, easily felt with fingertips, feeling like I have stripes running through my muscles. They are sometimes excruciatingly painful, worse than my normal fibro flares where an entire muscle group goes hard and stays hard until it is vigorously massaged and stretched out, which is a lot more work than most people go through before they get their healthy exercise. Magnesium is one of the biggies with fibro because it's crucial in muscle conduction (it's all about ion exchange and enzymes, but I digress), and it dawned on me that I'd chopped out my major daily source, so I tried supplementing with tablets out of a bottle.

I grew up on handfuls of supplements. I know way too much about supplements, thanks to an exuberant mother. I know all the debates by heart- oxides vs citrates vs chelates vs stearates vs... Back then it was all about dolomite, which has warnings, now it's about liquid. How can you tell which is the best? Point blank, magnesium supplements hurt my stomach. I break them down into smaller portions, bury them in food, skip days, doesn't matter. I'd rather eat the plants that magnesium comes in. I love brussels sprouts (and broccoli, another good source), but I can eat only so much. I'm going to try going back to putting a spoon of cocoa powder in my protein drink several times a week. If I have to chew another children's benadryl doing it, so be it, but so far my body seems to be ok with it.

Why is that a big deal? Because after about a week of magnesium supplements my stomach hurts so bad I'm doubled over, and as I've done this off and on through the years and complain about it, my doctor wants to do stuff like ultrasound on my gall bladder or a colonoscopy. Tests always turn out FINE, and I finally learned the pain goes away when I stop taking the magnesium supplements. I'm tired of tests. I'm tired of magnesium supplements. Bodies don't digest rocks very well, no matter what form the molecule takes. If humans could digest rocks we'd be grinding them up and eating them. Filtering them back out of plants and calling it a different name doesn't make a lot of difference in my stomach, I'm still swallowing a rock. However, I have to wonder how the above test result would look if I weren't trying so hard. Would it be worse? Would it even matter? Magnesium deficiency is notoriously difficult to test for, yet I live with many of the symptoms almost continuously even though I still remain within a 'standard range', albeit on the low side, according to blood tests.

See that chart? Yeah, that's me at rock bottom the first time they tested and then four days after an injection. I bottomed out even worse six months later and got another injection, but  21 days later was nowhere near the level I reached after my first injection, so I guess over an extra couple of weeks I lost that much serum magnesium, which might be a normal rate of loss after an injection for all I know. Now, fifteen months later it looks, by sheer comparison, like my magnesium level is better than it used to be, right? BUT. I've been struggling with supplementation and attempts to get more magnesium in my diet. I just know that I was having an easier time when I was at the 1.9 mg/dL on 2/14/13, four days after an injection. My latest result was 1.8, so at least I know supplements are doing some good. It just doesn't feel good enough, and I know if I stop trying, it'll bottom out again.

Side note- since I've received magnesium injections in the ER a couple of times while still being within 'standard range', arguably at the very low end as in the chart above, and feeling better afterward along with cessation of particular symptoms, I am able to correlate how I feel now with magnesium. For instance, one of the symptoms I was having both times I got the magnesium injection was a weird numby sensation all over my face, which Rx lists put in the 'severe' range of deficiency symptoms. Of course, that could be related to nerve damage I'm still healing from, as noted in previous posts, but I don't live with it continuously- this symptom being markedly worse at the same time as a low magnesium result is pretty clear cut for me. Regular doctors want me to take xanax or head meds for that, and a neurologist says it's something I have to live with, even though it went away with a magnesium injection. So when my lips and face start feeling sort of numbish, if I'm having no other symptoms of allergic food reaction, I think magnesium, especially if my fibro is flaring.

My point is that even though I'm keeping my serum magnesium level up, I'm having symptoms again, so serum blood level may not accurately reflect what is going on with me. I can only imagine what would be happening with me this winter if I weren't even trying. I sometimes entertain the notion of feeling bitter about going through another slump, but then surprise ripples through the area as a person my age keels over from a heart attack. They all say Too young, but 'young' doesn't mean 'healthy'. Hard to feel bitter about having to try so hard to get healthier when someone else who wasn't trying at all just bit the big one, or just barely survived thanks to a life saving surgery and most likely a big shot of magnesium along with it.

Magnesium deficiency is prevalent and preventable. (I'm not being paid to link anything in this post.) I am a product of big pharma. I started extricating myself from big pharma in 2008. It has taken a lot of planning and dedication, and I'm feeling way better than I did in 2008. This guys explains in a very easy way how bad it got for me.



If you arrived at this post searching for a light in the dark, I wish you all the best. I'm here to say there is hope, but it's up to you to want it badly enough to plan your extrication. Please don't stop meds cold turkey without thorough research on how to do that, and please stay in touch with your doctors so they can help you monitor. Once my doctor saw me breaking free, he switched directions with me and continues to cheer me on.

I don't know if I'm being brave or stupid

Anxiety attacks are no joke. My blood pressure hit 171/92 at 7:20 this morning because of stuff I was writing elsewhere that kept hitting and pinging some of my worst triggers and took 20 minutes to come back down below the 140/90 line that my doctor freaks out about. I was kinda proud of that, usually takes an hour or two, in the past, even longer, and it's gone way higher than that, too. But my stomach and chest have still been tight all day and I'm doing maintenance workouts in small batches that won't trigger the fibro after all that hooplah.

Some people say "Get a grip." I have to very seriously UN-grip my whole body. It's been an all-day job staying on top of this while I keep working on that other writing, also in small batches. So why am I even doing it???

Because I can. Because I've come this far. Because I want to.

They say face your fears. They never say what to do after that. My biggest fear is my own body over reacting to everything. To me, anxiety attacks are like facing down a dog that is about to leap and bite or getting on a big horse that wants to bolt. (I've actually done both in my life several times, and honestly, I'll take the dog and horse any day over anxiety attacks.)

One of the jokes around my house is that if the world falls apart from some doomsday scenario, I'll be among the first wave to die, if for no other reason than because I won't be able to get my thyroid pills. Ever think about that? Five years ago I was on handfuls of medications, and I very clearly wouldn't have lasted through a major crisis like a nationwide economic crash.

I'm changing all that. I used to be real tough. An accident and a couple of illnesses changed all that for a long time, but I'm changing it back. Because I want to. Some day my anxiety attacks will last only a few minutes while I face even harder triggers, if they don't give me a heart attack first. I'm working on lowering that risk, not because I'm scared, but because I want to.

I used to be able to run. It's been a long time since my sister and brother and I pushed 200 head of nearly wild cattle between woods and hills through 2 miles of pasture to a chute, but we never stopped until it was done, and then the real work began.

I want to be able to run like that again.

a plan that works- spoonie survivalist

Yowza, back to start another round of physical therapy yesterday. Ideally, lower back core strength would be pool work, but being around the pool sets off asthma (chemicals?) and winds up counterproductive. I started out that way in 2008 and loved it, but breathing kind of takes precedence.

So yesterday it was back to balance workouts, and then deep tissue ASTYM, which I think actually gets more work done in half the time anyway because it pinpoints and concentrates on problem areas instead of continuing to use general overcompensation while strength training. I work with weights, balls, stretchy bands, and sometimes foam pads that force me to fine tune balance even more.

I am usually the youngest person I see in physical therapy, unless someone else has come in for athletic or accident related injury. Most of the work is older people trying to regain mobility and lower their pain levels. Since I've already been through nearly complete immobility and screaming high pain levels, I have a lot of empathy for them being old on top of it.

I was told by the very first doctor I saw in my mid-20's that I would be living in a nursing home by the time I was 40. Back then, before 'fibrositis' was a thing (now fibromyalgia), it wasn't that uncommon for people to wind up in severe contractures as they grew older, to the point of great suffering and losing ability to care for themselves. One of the focuses we learned in nursing school was how to care plan around patients with contractures. I saw very clearly where I was headed if I didn't get a handle on living with severe fibromyalgia complicated with autoimmune flare ups. Having diabetes with it makes it monumentally worse because ketones further slow down vital nutrient flow through the muscles. I watched my mother disintegrate into 'frozen shoulders' and severe physical and cognitive deficits before she finally died in a nursing home. If everything I'm going through is genetically inclined, I know exactly how it's all going to end.

click this for cute story

But not if I can help it! There is so much new knowledge nowadays. In 2008 I made the decision to taper off medications that didn't improve my quality of life in either function or pain control, and now I'm nearly free of meds. I put together a care team of my own that included my regular doctor (who refers me as needed to pulmonologist, rheumatologist, cardioloist, ENT, allergist, etc), psychologist, and chiropractor. I coordinated all this with my endocrinologist and gynocologist. It helps being in a system like Mercy that is software integrating all my medical info, but I started this self integration before they had that technology in place. It takes some effort and focus, but taking that first step to become my own health care advocate was the beginning of me changing my life. I know a lot of people who still have unsynchronized medical charts between widely disparate clinics and doctor groups, and I can see how this hampers the help they hope to get, especially if they're not very good yet at communicating to every doctor they see. My psychologist helped me learn to communicate my needs and goals to my doctors, and that made a lot of difference.

Disability is an unfortunate part of my life, and I resisted for years. I hid my problems as best I could until I quite literally could no longer function and started making big mistakes at work. It felt like my body and mind were closing down and I was trapped inside, and everything got really hard. It was hard to move around, hard to interact in social settings, hard to think. I even discussed becoming a nondriver with my doctor. My driving got pretty scary.

funny pix when u click

Fortunately, I discovered that Medicare has strong physical therapy support and encourages people to use their yearly programs that are designed to channel the patient's needs through one-on-one assessment and training. I couldn't see how this could help at first, but a new wave has been sweeping the country- ASTYM is all the rage now. I am one of the first in my area to go through comprehensive ASTYM therapy along with core strength training with several different therapists because I'm stubborn and want to get healthy. Because I accept that 1- I must work for this, 2- pain is ok and not to be avoided (many people stop because the pain doesn't stop right away), and 3- it really is up to ME being persistent to properly heal, I have regained not only a world of mobility I had lost for years, but also the strength and endurance to keep moving. I am able to do things again that I held no hope for in my future, and much of it with drastically reduced pain levels.

I still have rough days, weeks, even months, but I know now that I don't have to backslide to darkness and despair. It's up to me to be a vital person. It's my choice to work hard so that I can continue to be useful in this life. It took quite a lot of grit with no promise to cling to when I first started out. It's been 6 years since I began my first physical therapy. I've been able to avoid several spinal surgeries, many cortisone shots, and have probably reduced my fall risk by at least 80%. I'm not pain free and probably never will be, and every time I take a break from physical therapy the old stuff tries to creep back up on me. This isn't a cure. But it has become a lifestyle, and I'm grateful that I stuck through it this long because I'm reaching a place where life feels better, I feel happier, and I actually have hope for my future now.

I'm writing all this down because I remember how I used to search through the night for other people like me- how does one survive? How does one get through this hard stuff? How does one hang on when everything utterly sucks and life looks so sad? Especially in the wee hours of the night when there is no one to talk to.

I am drawing a road map. I'm finding my way through this jungle, and one day I'm going to make it easy for all of us to follow the map. In the meantime, this is me checking in on another prednisone taper and another round of physical therapy.

lol