When you are living with multiple chronic illnesses things can quickly spiral out of control.  Cruising along getting through the day to day and then suddenly you are veering off the road and into the dark unknown.

What started as a tiny pimple turned into a nightmare.  I got a cellulitis infection on my neck which triggered a chain of events leading to a devastating new diagnosis.  How did I get here alone in the dark and how do I get back on the road?

When the tiny “pimple” grew to half my neck in size in 72 hours time, my doctor told me he’d meet me in the ER.  When you are immunocompromized (as I am), you don’t take risks with infections.  I decided to have my caregiver Nathalie drive me an hour to the big city hospital where all my specialists are on the off chance they decided to admit me.  This turned out to be a wise move on my part as I they almost immediately decided to admit me for IV antibiotics.

But even as the infection started to clear over the next few days of IV vancomyocin, things started to go downhill.  A familiar yet mysterious pattern emerged reminiscent of my hospitalization in May.

I developed both blurry and double vision.  Then I started having severe weakness borderline on paralysis in my left leg.  Then my right leg.  That is where things had stopped in the past and in May, but this time the paralysis continued to ascend.  I could no longer control my bladder and had to be catheterized.  Then I began having trouble moving my arms.  Finally my breathing muscles were effected.

My doctors quickly moved me to the ICU.  Effectively paralyzed, I was intubated and put on a ventilator.  I received a high dose pulse of steroids to help calm down my immune system which was attacking my nerves, preventing me from breathing on my own.

After a week of having  a machine breathe for me.  I was able to breathe on my own again and was moved out of the ICU to a monitored floor.  But the mystery remained.  What had caused all this?

Well the answer came in the form of another infection – a kidney infection.  With the new infection the blurry/double vision and paralysis got worse again rather rapidly.  Turns out the antibiotic being used to treat the infection can make symptoms worse for people with a certain disease which matched many of  the symptoms I have.

So my neurologist decided to test it by giving me a medication called Mestinon which specifically helps weakness in people with this disease.  Sure enough within  a very short time of taking the medication I could move my legs again!  And when the medication wears off I go back to near paralysis.

And so last night my doctor officially diagnosed me with Myasthenia Gravis.  And here I am veared off the side of the road with this scary new diagnosis.  And unfortuantely this new diagnosis doesn’t replace any of my other diagnosises.  I still have Sjogren’s Syndrome, Autoimmune Pancreatitis, Autoimmune Hepatitis, Hashimoto’s Thyroidis, Fibromyalgia, and so on and so forth.  And I still have an undiagnosed neurological component – the autoimmune brain stem inflammation.

Here’s some information about Myasthenia Gravis from the Mayo Clinic site:

Myasthenia gravis (mi-uhs-THEE-ne-uh GRA-vis) is characterized by weakness and rapid fatigue of any of the muscles under your voluntary control. The cause of myasthenia gravis is a breakdown in the normal communication between nerves and muscles.

There is no cure for myasthenia gravis, but treatment can help relieve signs and symptoms — such as weakness of arm or leg muscles, double vision, drooping eyelids, and difficulties with speech, chewing, swallowing and breathing.

What I had was what’s called a Myasthenic Crisis where my breathing muscles became too weak to do their job.  Scary!  That is why I ended up on a ventilator in the ICU for a week.  Now it was all starting to make a frightening sort of sense.

I just got moved to a non-monitored floor, so I’m overall doing much better physically.  Though I have several tests scheduled for next week to determine where the disease process is at and if I still need a special kind of blood filtering called plasmapheresis to help me recover the rest of the way.  I also have to have a scan checked to see if I might need surgery as well.  That’s in the short term.  In the long term I still need to get off all the prednsione I’m on that has somewhat been keeping this disease at bay.  That means some harder core immunosuppressant medications or possibly chemo agents to suppress my immune system so it will stop attacking me.

But where does this all leave me emotionally?  Well its like I’ve veered off the road.  This diagnosis wasn’t on the route I was expecting to travel.  And I suddenly feel alone in the dark in a strange place and I don’t quite know where I am.  On one hand I am happy to finally have some answers.  On the other hand this is not a good diagnosis to have.  The idea of ending up back on a ventilator in the ICU every time this gets flared up terrifies me.

It’s tempting to just act the the scared little girl I feel like and curl up in the corner and have a good long cry.  But that won’t really get me anywhere but feeling more miserable and in just a bad situation.  So how do I get back on the road?

I think I will have that cry.  I need to vent some of the shear grief I’m experiencing at the news of this diagnosis.  I’m really really scared and I shouldn’t feel like I have to hide that or put on a happy face to please everyone.  I need some time to feel the weight of my diagnosis and experience the bad feelings associated with it without denying them or stuffing them down.  This doesn’t mean I will wallow in them either though.  But there is a time and place for a healthy dose of sadness.  In fact, I believe it’s perfectly possible to be deeply sad about something and still consider yourself a happy person.

So I’ve veered off the road and had my cry in the dark.  How do I get back?  Now more than ever I must turn to God and Christ to guide me back.  To provide me the strength and comfort I need.  With them I will never be alone in this.  I turn to them in prayer and in the study of scripture.  When people tell me how strong I am in all this, I really feel all that strength isn’t me at all, but my faith in Christ.  With the Holy Ghost as my constant companion  I can’t feel too afraid.  And I can’t feel alone.  The knowledge of Christ’s eternal love for me and knowledge of the pain I’m going through guides me back to the path so that I am no longer veered off the road in the dark.

Finally I have to have trust in myself that I can get through this.  I have found ways to adapt to every obstacle in my path thus far, and I will find ways to adjust to this too in time.  Yes right now I feel crushed, but I will not let this crush me.  I feel devastated, but this will not devastate my spirit.  But in the meantime, to be perfectly honest, there will be a lot of tears shed.  And I’m okay with that.  It’s all part of the process of getting back on the road again.

Image by Stewf via Flickr

17

The number of diagnoses I’ve accumulated so far… Sjogren’s Syndrome, Autoimmune Pancreatitis, Autoimmune Hepatitis, Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, Cerebritis, Neuropathy, Autonomic Dysfunction, Fibromyalgia, Raynaud’s, Erythromelagia, IgA Deficiency, Asthma, Sleep Apnea, OCD, Depression, Anxiety, and ADD.

7

The number of years it took to be diagnosed with Sjogren’s Syndrome.

26

The number of years I’ve been living on this earth.

28

The number of medications I take

150

The number of pounds I’ve gained from Prednisone.

30

The number of pounds I’ve lost recently.

3

The number of pants sizes I’ve dropped recently.

8

My pain level right now.

17

How old I was when I when I last felt at all healthy.

3

The number of surgeries I’ve had… appendix removed, gallbladder removed, bladder stimulator implanted.

2

The number of doctors appointments I have next week.

13

The number of doctors I see on a regular basis.

0

The number of days I’m without pain.

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).

1. The illness I live with is:  Sjogren’s Syndrome, but I also have Autoimmune Pancreatitis, Autoimmune Hepatitis, Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, Fibromyalgia, and Arthritis.
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2007
3. But I had symptoms since: I was a small child.
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: to life in a wheelchair.
5. Most people assume: that I’m too young to have this many health problems.
6. The hardest part about mornings are: waking up way to early in pain and never getting enough sleep.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: House, I suppose, but I don’t really watch it anymore.  I have a hard time concentrating on TV.
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: my mac.  It is my connection to the rest of the world.
9. The hardest part about nights are: trying to get sleepy despite the pain.
10. Each day I take 28 different medications. (No comments, please)
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: am only open to trying ones that have been shown to work in some sort of clinical trial.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose:  an invisible one.  Since I’ve recently started using a wheelchair, my illness has become move visible and I long to look “normal” again.
13. Regarding working and career: I am currently on disability.
14. People would be surprised to know: that I don’t remember what “no pain” feels like.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: that I can’t just push through the pain and exhaustion without making myself sicker.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was:  travel for pleasure, but I recently went to an alternative reality gaming conference in Portland.
17. The commercials about my illness: don’t exist (which could be why no one seems to have heard of it).
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: hiking and other physical outdoor activities.
19. It was really hard to have to give up: my independence, but I’ve had to learn to accept a lot of help from others.
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: scrapbooking.  I’m completely obsessed and even do it from bed when I can’t sit up at the table.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: backpacking through Australia.
22. My illness has taught me: that happiness is where you make it for yourself.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: “You just need to exercise more.”
24. But I love it when people: Call or email me out of the blue to let me know they are thinking of me even if I haven’t been up to hanging out lately.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is:  Everything might not happen for a reason, but you can make a reason out of everything that happens.
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: that life isn’t over and that they will find ways to cope and adjust.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: how much opening up and sharing about my illness has given me the opportunity to meet new people who in turn share about themselves.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: lug all my scrapbooking supplies to me in the hospital, so I could take my mind off being there with my favorite activity.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: I hope by raising awareness people will have more sensitivity and empathy for the people in their lives with invisible illnesses.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: hopeful that my sharing about my experiences will make positive difference.

Find out more about National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week and the 5-day free virtual conference with 20 speakers Sept 14-18, 2009 at www.invisibleillness.com