“Too young.”

That is a phrase I have heard a lot in different contexts since I’ve been dealing with chronic illness.  I’ve been told I’m “too young to be this sick”, “too young to have to use a wheelchair”, and “too young to have to use a walker”.  Most recently I was told I’m “too young to increase my dose of pain meds” by my pain management specialist.

I went to my monthly pain management specialist appointment last week.  I’ve been having a lot more pain some days lately.  Stabbing pain in my joints that wake me from sleep and make me gasp in pain when I walk (but yes I’m still walking 99% of the time!).  I went to my appointment with the hope that I would get some relief.  But my doctor felt that I am “too young” to increase my pain meds.  I left feeling disappointed, a little angry, and still in pain.

On one hand I understand her concern.  If I have to keep increasing my pain meds now, what will I do in five, ten, or twenty years for my chronic pain?  What will I do if I end up in the hospital with an acute flare of Autoimmune Pancreatitis which is extremely painful and no pain meds will work anymore?

But on the other hand, I’m in pain now.  And despite what people what people might say, the unfortunate reality is that I’m not “too young” to be in this much pain.  And my age doesn’t make my pain any less painful or any less valid.  And my age especially doesn’t make my pain any less deserving of treatment.

Overall I’ve been happy with my pain specialist doctor.  I’m grateful that she is willing to prescribe me pain medication at all.  I went through several doctors before her who flat out refused to treat me because of my age.

The crux of the problem I think is that chronic pain is invisible.  No one can see my pain.  My pain specialist doctor certainly can’t.  Only I can feel it.  However, though my pain is invisible, I certainly am not.  And I cannot let my invisible pain (nor any of my other invisible illnesses) make me feel invisible.

So what do I do?

I need to speak up for myself and advocate for myself more.  I cannot let myself feel intimidated about telling my pain specialist that I disagree with her decisions.  If I shrink back and keep this to myself, I make myself invisible as my pain.

I also need to share my experience with the people in my life, so they can understand what I’m going through.  I’m not talking about whining about being in pain, but, in the appropriate settings, tell the people in my life what it feels like physically and emotionally to be in my shoes.  Part of that is this blog.  Sharing my journey on this blog helps me feel empowered and lets me make my invisible illness visible.

The bottom line is I am “too young” for just one thing… I am “too young” to let this beat me!

This week is Invisible Illness Awareness Week!  Nearly 1 in 2 people live w/ a chronic condition, most of them invisible. If it’s not you, it’s someone you love.  Help spread the word!

Things have been emotionally rough and raw lately.  Lot’s of things are in transition.  Relationships in flux.  And I’m still stuck in the hospital (33 consecutive days and 39 total days in the hospital by my count).  I’m trying to think of it as being 39 days closer to being released from the hospital.  It doesn’t work that well though.  But cheery flowers like these ones I got from my Great Aunt and Cousins brightened my room and my mood.

Tests a trickling in and no definitive diagnosis concerning the cause of my brain stem inflammation is yet emerging.

So I was especially pleasantly surprised to receive this cuddly visitor today.  It was just what the doctor ordered.

In the midst of confusion, I often turn to poetry to help capture my thoughts.  I wrote this one in about ten minutes, and I rather like it.  An emotional moment forever frozen like a bug trapped in amber.

A Place For Him

by Lauren Soffer

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
So she goes it alone
As she makes her way home

But the time she tripped
And she didn’t fall
A silent scream
Yet He heard the call
Still She goes it alone
As she makes her way home

Not ready
Not ready to let go
Not ready
For a hand to hold
Cause even crying all alone
At least she knows
It’s all she knows

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
This girl must
Grow up
Not a child anymore
Stand up
Reach out a hand
Lift up
Her heart till it holds
Always
A place for Him

EDIT: Last night my friends Spencer, Kristi, and I had a blast in my hospital room writing music to my lyrics.  Here’s a REALLY rough take of it – complete with my voice still completely hoarse from an allergic reaction and nasal from having a feeding tube up my nose.  Hehe.  So forgive my lack of ability to hit any of the notes right now, but I at least wanted to give you the idea.

I’m Daddy’s little girl all grown up, but I still need my daddy.  I want to bask in his strong embrace.  Instead he gives my heart a chase.  He pushes me away into the wrong kind of space.

My dad and I hold polar opposite believes when it comes to the treatment of medicine.  I believe in studies and the scientific method.  He believes in testimonials and isolated case reports.  But that it is neither here nor there. In our differential beliefs we are at in impasse.  And no matter how I beg and plead I can’t get him to respect my wishes.

I even tried a different tact.  I recently agreed that once I am recovered from this current hospitalization I would agree to spend two sessions with an alternativie medicine worker of his choice and fully hear them out and what they think I should do for my health.  But then, my dad went the very next day against my will and set up a consultation between an alternative medicine doctor out of state and my current internist.  This is only one recent example of what has gone on over the years as I have struggled to find my path to health and he as struggled to get me to follow a completely different path.

Feelings are hurt, boundaries has been crossed, trust has been broken.  I am left unsure if I want him in my life at all right now.  As much as it would hurt to cut him out when I need his support the most, he doesn’t seem capable of giving me the support I need anyway.  So much trust has been broken.  I just want him to hold me and tell me it it will all be okay.  Instead he hold me at arms length and tells me what I’m dong wrong.

And the stress from this has been tremendous.  I can’t stop crying.  Between the being sick itself (34 total days in the hospital and counting) and the fear of the great unknown – all we really know so far is that my problem is with some kind of inflammation in the brain stem – it might be MS (multiple sclerosis) or something like it.  And then there’s my dad making it worse.  Telling me the treatment I’m choosing for myself is going to kill me.  He needs to respect that its my body and my choice and he just can’t for whatever issues he has gong n his inner psyche.

So in the meantime…  I will get by without him.

EDITED: to include clarification about my willingness to see certain alternative medicine practictioners.

Though I am a Novel Patient, patience isn’t my strong suit.  But patience is what is required of me right now.

My kidney infection has triggered a flare of my Autoimmune Pancreatitis.  I’ve completely lost my appetite and am having severe upper abdominal pain that bores through to my back.  Luckily I am at the hospital with all my specialists including my Pancreatic specialist.  In terms of treatment, my doctors are really afraid to give me more Prednisone (a steroid) while I am still fighting this infection.  Plus they don’t want to undo my progress in tapering the Prednisone.  So the treatment is to keep me completely off anything by mouth – no food or even water – for several days until this hopefully calms itself down again.

So they are keeping me here through the weekend, and I get to practice being patient.

I am plain tired of it all though.  I am tired of being in the hospital so often that it becomes so commonplace to my family that they hardly bat an eye.  I am tired of having IVs and PICC lines hanging out of my arm and being covered with bruises from botched attempts at them.  I am tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to get my vitals checked.  I’m tired of all the medications and the side effects.  (A new fun one from the IV antibiotic is blurred vision.)  I’m tired of being bored and lonely and alone in the hospital.  I am tired of being so tired.

I wrote a poem just now:

In The Hospital

In the hospital
Knowing only pain
And loneliness
Poked and prodded
Woken in the night
Woken in to a nightmare
But this is no nightmare
This is my life
So I search
For a beacon of hope
For a way to get through
And make this trial a tool
To grow and evolve
Past the loneliness
And past the pain
Poking and prodding
My soul into change
Though I dream
And I hope
For health
I cannot wait
So one day at a time
In the hospital

On the upside, I get to take a shower tomorrow.  A REAL shower!!!  I can’t explain how much I’m looking forward to that!

Also my church has been amazing!  They’ve been calling and texting and most importantly visiting me.  It’s been awesome to have such a source of support for the first time in my life!  Their visits have broken up the monotony and made it so much easier to be patient.

And patient I must be – a novelly patient patient.

As the month draws to a close, I am reminded that April is Sjogren’s Syndrome Awareness Month.  Sjogren’s is my primary diagnosis, the overarching disease process that ties all (or most) or my symptoms together.

But what is Sjogren’s Syndrome?  According to Sjogrens.org:

Sjögren’s syndrome is a chronic autoimmune disease in which people’s white blood cells attack their moisture-producing glands. Today, as many as four million Americans are living with this disease.

Although the hallmark symptoms are dry eyes and dry mouth, Sjögren’s may also cause dysfunction of other organs such as the kidneys, gastrointestinal system, blood vessels, lungs, liver, pancreas, and the central nervous system. Patients may also experience extreme fatigue and joint pain and have a higher risk of developing lymphoma.

With upwards of 4,000,000 Americans suffering from Sjögren’s syndrome, it is one of the most prevalent autoimmune disorders. Nine out of 10 patients are women.

To make it more personal…

• Imagine you can’t eat crackers because you don’t have enough saliva to swallow them.
• Imagine you are so dry that it hurts to use tampons.
• Imagine your eyes are too dry and painful to wear contacts.
• Imagine you need to take 29 medications to keep your illness under control.
• Imagine the disease effects your central nervous system and causes difficulty concentrating and remembering things.  Imagine it sometimes even causes vertigo, seizures, numbness, facial drooping, and episodes of paralysis.
• Imagine the disease has spread to your pancreas in the form of autoimmune pancreatitis causing severe pain and making it difficult to digest food without the help of medications and sometimes a feeding tube.
• Imagine the disease causes such severe joint pain you are confined to a wheelchair for over a year and now use a walker to stand and walk.
• Imagine you are hospitalized several times a year for up to six weeks at a time.
• Imagine you have Sjogren’s Syndrome.

There are so many facets to it this doesn’t even begin to cover how Sjogren’s Syndrome affects me, but I hope this provides a glimpse into my world.

For more information see my post from last year on Sjogren’s Syndrome Awareness Month or visit Sjogrens.org.