Having a chronic illness can rob you of your independence.  Suddenly you find yourself dependent on other people to do basic things you had always taken for granted, and this changes your relationships forever.

Before I got sick I was a super independent person.  I always preferred to do things on my own and avoided asking for help even when I really needed it.  With the onset of my autoimmune diseases, especially the neurological symptoms and symptoms that limited my mobility, asking for help became an unavoidable way of life.

Now I need help with even basic things like getting dressed or washing my hair – things I have done on my own for most of my life.  Those were the hardest things to ask for and accept help with at first.  It was frustrating for me and it was frustrating for my mom who initially found herself as my only caregiver.  Suddenly she was caring for me in a way she hadn’t needed to since I was a small child.  It tested our relationship.

At the time I felt very hurt at her frustration.  I wondered why she didn’t just automatically understand how much I had to humble myself to even ask for help in the first place.  It hurt when she responded with questions about whether I really needed the help or if I was feeling as badly as I was saying.  We fought a lot at a time when I really just needed her support.  Eventually I came to understand that I was failing to communicate.  I was also blinded by my own experience.  I was so caught up in dealing with the implications of a chronic illness and how it had shaken my world that I failed to see how profoundly it was affecting her as well.

But when I started to communicate this to her – that I knew how hard this was for her too  and that I appreciated all she was giving up to take care of me and that I knew it was also hard to watch her daughter get sick – the fighting tapered off.  I also found new ways to help her in return  that I could still do – mostly various types of computer and technical help.

When my mom simply couldn’t do it alone anymore, my need for help blessed me with two beautiful friendships in the form of two wonderful caregivers.  Sarina, my first caregiver, is more than a friend to me.  Born exactly one year apart, we say we are twins separated by a year at birth.  But it was odd at first having someone – a stranger – my age helping me with the very personal things I needed help with especially since I had been abandoned by several of my closest friends over the prior year.  They simply didn’t want deal with my new found illness and subsequent dependency.  Some stopped being my friend because they didn’t even believe I was actually sick and some of them just found it too much to handle and some I will never know their reasons.  In any case it hurt.  A lot.  But Sarina came in and loved me and accepted me and my illness.  She was truly a blessing and still is.

After Sarina moved away to further her career and get married, Melissa, my current caregiver, came into my life.  She is an angel in my life.  She, like Sarina, is always there for me.  We laugh a lot.  And through both of them I found that though I was sick I could still be a good friend in return.  I could still listen and be there for people.  I didn’t just need help from them, I could give it in return.

But at the end of the day I am still dependent on other people.  And I still hate that.  I don’t think I’ll ever not hate watching my mom or Melissa assemble my back backbreakingly heavy wheelchair.  I hate that I can’t just do it myself.  Though in a lot of ways, my relationships have grown and been strengthened by my need for help, and for that I am grateful, I am still eager to find ways to lessen my dependency.

So I am VERY pleased to announce that I’ve taken a step in the right direction – nine of them.  Last week  I walked (with the help of my walker) nine steps.  It was the first time I’ve walked in over a year!  I was having a low pain day and just went for it.  It was incredibly painful but even more incredibly worth it!

This post is my entry in February’s Health Activist Blog Carnival. If you’re interested in participating too, you can read all about it HERE.

I don’t really know what to write.  I’ve been kind of a writing funk.  More precisely the stress of everything it getting to me.  I’m in trouble financially, my doctors aren’t currently doing anything to help me get better, and I’ve been doing a lot of “being there” for my friends and family which I am more than happy to do – it’s just that its emotionally draining.

It’s so important to stay stress free when you have any chronic illness but especially one that’s autoimmune related.  High levels of stress lead to flareups of my illness.

Once upon a time I was a cutter.  Since then I have found other ways to de-stress that don’t involve hurting myself.  Now I have a little chocolate therapy on occasion (or rather frequently), I watch a favorite movie (usually The Princess Bride when I’m not feeling well), I talk to a friend or my sister about what’s bothering me, I scrapbook, or I force myself to write in this blog.  I’m feeling a little better already.

What do you do to de-stress when the road gets too bumpy?

A page from my Peace Book.

Appearances can be deceiving with a chronic illness.  Looking at a person you usually can’t even begin to see what they are going through.  Sometimes even your doctor can’t see what’s right in front of them.  Sometimes you have to spell it out for them.  Especially when you have a lot of symptoms and medical problems, I’ve found it extremely helpful to bring your doctor a printed list summarizing your medical history and list of symptoms broken down by category.

This serves another purpose as well.  When you have an unexpected and most unwelcome flare of autoimmune pancreatitis pain, you can distract yourself by making it into art while you wait for your pain meds to kick in!

Head over to Wordle to try it out for yourself (and feel free to link me in the comments).

Sometimes you expect one thing and get another… especially when living with multiple chronic illnesses. I finally saw the Sjogren’s specialist at yesterday.  He spent a good 40 minutes pouring over my records and taking notes on them.  He listened to my insanely long list of symptoms.

The interesting thing is he came to the conclusion that Sjogren’s probably isn’t my main diagnosis.  He really feels that I have some sort of autoimmune neurological disorder going on causing the seizures, episodes of paralysis, tremor, severe pain upon standing that has me in a wheelchair, motility problems, bladder problems, memory problems, and recent facial drooping and uneven pupil dilation.  He thinks the Sjogren’s is secondary to whatever is causing all of that.

He’s going to be coordinating with my normal rheumy to get me a lot more specific tests to work me up for this and try and figure out if this is originating in the peripheral nerves, ganglia, or brain.  He said he suspects that it is probably in both either the peripheral nerves or ganglia and also in the brain.  He also probably wants to me travel to John Hopkins to see a neurologist specializing in this there.  He said my case is one of the most unusual and complex and in my situation I need to go to the top doctor even if he or she is located on the other side of the country.

I’m not totally sure what to think and am still processing this.  I went to him expecting to discuss other treatment options for Sjogren’s and am now going to be pursuing an alternative primary diagnosis instead.

I’m also feeling pretty scared.  I feel like I’ve been thrown back out into unknown territory again.  Back trying to tread water in the deep end of the pool.  I also know that the kind of disease he thinks I probably have is not something that is good to be diagnosed with.  I’m also frustrated that no one has really seriously pursued the neuro stuff thus far and that I had to drive 3.5 hours to see a Sjogren’s specialist to figure that Sjogren’s probably isn’t my main problem.  Sigh.

I guess part of it too is that another whole year of my life has rolled by… I just turned 26… and now we are back at trying to diagnose me again which means its going to be even longer till we can start a treatment other than prednisone again which means its going to be even longer before I have some hope of having some semblance of a “normal” life back again.  Maybe its because it’s that time of the month right now as well, but I’m just feeling really upset and like this is a step backwards.  I know intellectually it is really maybe FINALLY a step in the right direction, but it sure doesn’t feel that way right now.  I’m 26 and I want my life back.  I’ve been too ill to have a “normal” life since I was 18.  I’m just so tired of it all.

I guess the worst part is the not knowing what’s going on or what to expect.  If the doctor were to just tell me I’m going to be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life at least I could learn to live with that fact.  But I don’t have any facts right now to learn to live with so I can grieve and move on.  Yes I suppose that’s the worst part of all.

I feel so lost right now I don’t know what to do with myself really.

In the meantime, my mom and I are staying at my grandma’s since she lives by this new Sjogren’s specialist which was 3.5 hours away from where I live.  We’ll be driving back on Wednesday.  The Sjogren’s specialist said he’d get back to me in about 2 weeks  – after he has a chance to talk to my current rheumy and review all the neurological testing I’ve already had done, so that we don’t repeat any tests unnecessarily.  Then there are a bunch of specialized neuro tests that I’ll need to have done either around here or at Johns Hopkins.

Intellectually I know this is a good thing and that finally getting the correct diagnosis will lead to the right treatment that will eventually get me healthier and able to live more of a life.  Right now I’m just feeling kind of depressed about the whole thing.  I’ll be okay though.  Just takes a little time to process all of this.

In the meantime I’m staying more than busy.  I’ve been continuing on with National Novel Writing Month where you try to write a 50k word novel in 30 days.  So far I’m at about 12k words, so I’m doing fairly well.  I’ve been letting a handful of beta-readers read along as I write it, and the feedback has been extremely positive and motivating for me to keep writing.  I’m also working on designing two online games and working on a huge needle point.  So at least I’m not bored. 

It all really comes back to maintaining hope.  Emotionally this has been a bit of a setback for me because I was expecting answers and got more questions.  But I choose to maintain hope that this will lead me to the right treatment in time.  Ultimately I already have whatever I have.  The diagnosis — the label — won’t change that.  I am learning to live with whatever it is regardless.  And I have faith in myself that I will get through this.  As long as I don’t loose hope I haven’t really lost anything.  There are always new options and opportunities I can make for myself if I remain hopeful and open to them!

“How would you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?”

I detest this question.  But I get asked it all the time from my doctors.  How can you apply a pain scale to chronic pain?  I don’t even remember what no pain feels like.  So the whole scale seems to shift.  Pain is so relative.  I have gotten used to being in pain all the time.  I’ve gotten used to the constant stomach pain from the Autoimmune Pancreatitis and the debilitating joint pain that keeps in the wheelchair.  Not something you want to get used to.  But it’s amazing how much I can even take my normal level of pain for granted.

The last 3 days I was without my pain medication due to a major pharmacy mess up coupled with a significant insurance snag.  My stomach hurt and my joints seemed to be screaming with pain.  In more pain, I was more drained, more cranky, more emotional.  I couldn’t sleep well.  I’m yawning even now from the last few nights of poor sleep.  But strange thing was, I didn’t let myself realize how much pain I was really in until it was over… after I finally got my pain meds today again.

The sudden relief from pain was dramatic.  It’s amazing what you can live with when you have no choice, but I won’t be taking my “normal” level of pain for granted so quickly again.