Archive for the ‘migraines’ Category


So I got up yesterday morning to ready myself for work, as one does. I do it prior to coffee. I do it prior to the daughters getting ready. I turn on the TV to listen to local news for the weather and headlines.

There was about what you would expect at 5:dark o’kiss my ass it’s too early for anything. Watching/listening with my bedroom TV that I can’t rewind, so really, at first I didn’t really believe what I was hearing. Later I went downstairs where, when I hear what seems like ridiculous news, is often confirmed downstairs because that’s the TV that tells me the truth.

Yes. The Today Show confirmed what seemed like the imminent dramedy of:

The Most Ridiculous News Story Diverting Attention From Important Headlines Today

Loves, I regret to inform you that Sarah Palin is whoring herself out yet again in a phenomenally new and unexpected way. She has plans in the works to  have a television show just like Judge Judy Sheinlin of Judge Judy fame where she, Sarah Whackadoodle Palin, is the judge. Or judge-like person. Judging people in court.

What are her qualifications, you ask? Well, I thought maybe she’d whip out a secret law degree or some such thing but, well, Sarah Whackadoodle Dee Dee Palin being who she is believes that she’s qualified enough to be a judge in a court having, you know, chosen plenty of judges during her tenure as a governor of Alaska.

That’s not all, folks!

She also has all of that experience IN TELEVISION THESE PAST EIGHT YEARS since the 2008 Presidential Elections, y’all!

If you don’t believe me, you have Google Fingers.

Now, here’s a warning. If you’re a Sarah Palin supporter and you think she’s a really classy lady, and you feel like telling me how women ought to be supporting women rather than tearing each other down, I’ll disagree with you on point A and agree with you on point B. My explanation on point B is because I disagree on point A. I’ve blogged in the distant past as to why. I won’t go into that now because I’ll use up all of the words I didn’t use yesterday when I blogged about Trump Fatigue.

 

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There’s a meme going around with an ancient quote from a sixth century philosopher, Lao Tzu, so-called father of Taoism. It reads:

If you are depressed, you live in the past.
If you are anxious, you live in the future.
If you are at peace, you are living in the present.

I know this is meant to soothe or be, you know, wise. I know that some therapists use a similar approach with their patients.

The more I see this float around Facebook and other social media… the more I see this in my support groups… especially the ones where so many of us have anxiety and depression in addition to our physical disabilities… the more this quote makes me realize how much it’s adding to the stigma and misinformation about Depression and Anxiety Disorders.

It insinuates heavily that we can choose our state of peacefulness, anxiety, or depression. Granted this quote is from the sixth century when they didn’t have the knowledge we have now about neurological differences and disorders like Major Depressive Disorders, Anxiety Disorders, Bipolar Disorders, Schizophrenia, Traumatic Brain Injuries, Intellectual Disabilities, Emotional Disorders, Mental Health Disorders, Behavioral Disorders, and more neurodiversity. Even if Depression and Anxiety aren’t the primary diagnoses, they can still be a secondary diagnosis and still be significant. There’s a biological basis for these concerns.

In other words, you’re born with it. You don’t choose it.

Depression has nothing to do with living in the past. Anxiety has little to do with living in the future. And let me tell you, living in the present is not usually a picnic but is in fact very often what causes anxiety and depression if we’re talking about situational depression and anxiety.

If we’re talking about situational depression and anxiety, talk therapy and using tools learned in therapy and coping mechanisms learned by experience in life can help ease the symptoms. Talking down, getting sunlight, exercise, proper diet, and all of those mood boosting things that we endorse (I do, really I endorse them because they’re helpful) are wonderful for situational depression.

If we’re talking about Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety, if we’re talking about other neurologically based depressive disorders and anxieties tied to them, there’s no control involved. There’s no talking it through. It’s not rational. Talk therapy may help, medical treatment may help more.

But it’s not a choice. And this meme… this meme of this quote is damaging to those of us who aren’t just going through Seasonal Affective Disorder or are sad because our boyfriend is cheating. We can’t just buck up and get over it because it’s not situational. It’s biological and we can’t turn it off. We have to let it cycle. A situation or mood may trigger it, but there’s usually a lead up with signs pointing to it. We can’t always see them or recognize them.

Please, if you see this meme with this quote, pretty lettering and all, don’t share it.

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Using All The Spoons

Using All The Spoons

I think it was one of my doctors that said,

“There is nothing noble about having to endure severe pain when there are options that will help alleviate the pain. I don’t care if its severe physical pain, or if its severe emotional pain. We put ourselves through too much pain, because we think that it’s some sort of spiritual, strengthening experience and it proves something about us as an individual. I don’t believe that.  Asking for help and pain relief is not a sign of weakness but of pride. Knowing when to ask for help is a strength.”

That’s been rattling inside my head for months, and I believe it’s true.

I’ve seen people online in support groups and in real life say that they endure the pain of Fibromyalgia and Lupus and other chronic pain disorders without asking for any relief from doctors or any support from friends and family because it’s a test from God. If Jesus could die on the cross for our sins then the least they could do is endure their pain without complaint outside of the Fibro support group.

I want to scream at those people that the entire point of Jesus dying on the cross for us was to sacrifice himself for our sins so that there would never have to be another blood sacrifice again to God. No more pain from sin, because he was carrying it. So any pain we’re going through isn’t because of sin, or because God wants us to go through it as some sort of test. God created scientists and doctors for a reason. God created nutritionists and yes, even homeopaths for a reason. To help us improve our health and ease pain. If we try and it doesn’t work, we simply (ha) having found the right combination yet.

So many of us that have chronic pain like Fibromyalgia seem to think that showing signs of pain and asking for help or support is a sign of weakness, and if we show any kind of weakness then others will walk all over us and take advantage of us.

We think that obtaining pain relief and admitting that natural remedies we’re trying don’t work well enough or are no longer working and we need to try something else is a sign of weakness.

We don’t want people to think we’re faking.

We don’t want people thinking we’re exaggerating.

We don’t want people thinking we’re whining.

We don’t want anyone to think we’re trying to suck The System dry and take Your Tax Dollars In Benefits We Don’t Deserve.

We believe that you have a right to judge our pain relatively while at the same time, believing that you have no right to judge.

We believe that we should be able to endure any kind of pain in silence, that we shouldn’t burden other people with our pain.

We believe we’re burdens.

We hope our spouses and loved ones stay by us steadfastly  no matter what, and refuse to see us as burdens and make great effort to understand us even when we’re at our worst moods and least ability.

We believe that our children shouldn’t see our pain and disability and how we handle it…. just like how so many people believe children should never see their parents fight and make up… without realizing that children who witness and learn to deal with disabilities in their families grow up with compassion and an ability to understand disabilities.

We believe we’re burdens even to our doctors ( if we don’t already believe Big Pharmacy is out to get us, poison us, take all our money, and all doctors are in on it). We forget that doctors are our employees who work for us and with us, and we get a say in our treatment. We forget that we have a voice, but that we need to learn to use it.

Our burden shouldn’t ever be someone else’s burden. Yet… when our loved ones don’t ask us how we’re feeling or offer to help us, offer to try to relieve us some how, some way, so many of us are hurt and insulted and complain that our friends and family must not care. We spend so much of our lives hiding our feelings, emotions, pain, and disability that we forget we’re not really letting them in. They don’t really know us because they only know what we’ve shown them until now. If it appears as if we don’t need help or care or support, they’re not going to offer it. If we don’t tell them we need anything, they won’t offer it. If we don’t ask, no one will help.

And if we don’t inform spouses and children that they’re expected to help, they won’t.

Yet we take on their burdens as if they were our own without complaints even if we can’t afford it, and we’ve nearly run out of spoons. Why do we do that? Because we need to prove ourselves. We need to prove that we’re fine and can handle our own burdens, those burdens that no one else is supposed to notice, as well as be helpful and loving to everyone else.

We need to prove that we can overcome. We can bust through disability that’s in our way. We need to defeat disability and illness and disorders and differences. If we can’t we need to pretend and try to pass so as not to make others uncomfortable.

We need to always be Hope and Inspiration. We need to be wanted.

The stigma of pain and disability has been built into  our society for so long that people who endure challenges from disabilities and chronic severe pain perpetuate that stigma by behaving as if we’re ashamed of our pain. That’s what hiding our disabilities and pain really does. When we minimize our experiences and we even go so far as to say,

“Someone else has it worse than I do. I shouldn’t complain.”

We’re saying that we don’t matter enough to be taken care of and to be paid attention to and to be pampered. We don’t matter enough, period.

Do I always want to look for strength in my disabilities? No. Hell no. I have some terribly horrible days where I don’t have any strength of any kind at all mentally, emotionally, or physically. I’m not an inspiration or hope to anyone on those days. I’m not trying to be.

The strength lies in our ability to ask for help.

More of us need to learn to insist on help from our loved ones, and explain what we need when we ask for help and support.

It’s not enough to hope and beg and pray that our loved ones will simply know that we need them, and that they will know what exactly it is we need. The problem is they’re not mind readers. How can they possibly know what we need if we don’t tell them explicitly what we need. Our doctors don’t even know unless we tell them explicitly. And when we tell people we love, as well as our doctors, we need to use a strong voice. We need to use our no nonsense voice in order to get our message across. I’m known for bringing printouts with a list of things I want to talk about. I’m also known for bringing printout of research I’ve done, and I bring links to online research which I know my doctors probably should have done or have already done so that they know there’s a resource that they can go to. When loved ones don’t seem to understand what I’m going through I have learned to show them research. I’m still learning to show my pain rather than hide it. I’m learning that hiding my pain and enduring my pain is not Noble. It does not make me a stronger person. When I need help I am learning to ask for help.

But perhaps even more importantly, when I need help and someone offers their help I am learning to say yes and accept it. It’s hard to do that because of pride, but I have learned that more people than not do have a good heart and even if they don’t understand what I’m enduring if I let them see my pain even if they cannot empathize with me they still want to help. If they can see an actual physical need that’s obvious to them they’re more likely to help. Someone sees simply pain and they don’t know what to do it’s hard to endure it it’s hard to know how to help. People feel helpless when there’s not an obvious task to say here let me help you with this. It’s hard to say what can I do to help you when there’s no clear solution to expect the person they want to help.

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I survived another birthday. I survived another year. I survived the changing of the leaves. I’m surviving the bipolar change in seasons so far. I’m surviving working.

I’ve been blessed to see my daughters grow and spend time with my loving husband.

I feel as if I’ve been able to begin healing relationships that need it, but I know there’s room for improvement. I know that I need to put more effort into additional healing, additional relationships.

I’ve just looked back on what I’ve written. It’s odd how I’m using the language, “I survived.” It’s odd that I chose to write about that, using that language, before I wrote about my family and relationships. Is that what pain has done to me in this past year? Has it really progressed that far again? I was going to write about something else but this probably tells me more about myself at this very moment than anything else I was planning to write.  That’s a little bit jarring.

This post isn’t at all what I expected, so I think I may need to come back to the subject later. How odd. Forgive me.

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I stumbled across this article on a new-to-me blog that I’m now following. It has some great tips that I never considered when thinking about going to the emergency room as someone who has chronic pain and related issues. This blog entry is talking about CRPS, which is Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. It’s a chronic pain disorder that is separate from Fibromyalgia but can be a co-diagnosis with Fibromyalgia. Each disorder can also be misdiagnosed for the other. She goes into more detail with each bullet point, and you should click the link to see the reasoning why. I’ve begun using these suggestions at work and although it’s been a couple of years since I’ve broken down and gone to the ER, I’m going to be taking this advice.

Considering the Emergency Room? Here Are Some Pointers to Keep in Mind if You Have Chronic Pain. |.

 

  1. Make sure that you have a regular physician who treats your chronic pain.
  2. Show that you have tried to contact your regular doctor before you go to the ER … only using the emergency room as your treatment of last resort, as opposed to the primary place you go for pain medication.
  3. Bring a letter from your doctor.
  4. Bring a list of medications.
  5. Work cooperatively with emergency room staff. It might not be fair, but if a patient comes in screaming and shouting that they need pain medication right away, the staff isn’t going to like it.
  6. If you have a CRPS card, hand it to them and ask for it to be put in your file.
  7. Ask for a nurse advocate or make sure someone is with you.
  8. If at all possible, use the same Emergency Department as the last one you went to, your pain will be that much more believable if you always use the same place.
  9. …keep a folder handy with all those details written down, as well as a copy of most everything I need to bring with me

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I had a 6-month check up with my PCP on Wednesday.  Since my Fibromyalgia diagnosis, this has been something she insists on in order to see the progression of my pain and how I’m handling it.  She does what amounts to a physical except I get to keep my clothes on at these check ups.  

7 Kinds of Fibromyalgia Pain

7 Kinds of Fibromyalgia Pain

We talk about exercise (yoga and some walking) and my diet (vegetarian with little sugar, plus no HFCS or food dyes; reduced dairy and reduced animal byproducts).  She checks my weight (hey, I lost ten pounds since my last appointment!).  She checks how I move; motions I can and can’t make; triggers for pain and other issues; posture; word recall; language usage; asthma and lungs; ears; spine; skin issues; eyes; mouth; reflexes; asks questions about the pain itself regarding location and the nature and quality of the pain.  Um, I forget the term for that.  The… the… diffuse pain and describing what it feels like.  It has to do with the seven types of pain that Fibro-sufferers feel.  There’s an info-graphic I’ll have to try to dig up.

My PCP wasn’t happy with the progression of my pain because A.) the flare ups have increased in frequency and I rarely have occasions of tolerable or “feeling really good.” I have a majority of time where I feel sick from the pain it’s so high, and it affects my sleep, moods, and anxiety levels.  B.) Even when I’m feeling “good” the pain is high, which means my baseline pain, the pain I feel at the lowest possible pain level all over my body, can be distracting.  C.) I have a lot of breakthrough pain where I have to take something in addition to my daily med.  And yet, when I’ve accidentally missed a dose of the Gabapentin/Neurontin (only 200 mg, taken 3X a day = 600 per day), the pain is quadrupled.  I don’t feel side effects, I just feel pain so excruciating I feel like throwing up and wish for nothing but being unconscious.  I didn’t explain things quite like that to my doctor, but gave her an abbreviated explanation.  I tried to hold it in for the appointment.  

She was able to see through my bravado (I had one of my daughters with me) that I was in severe pain in spite of taking my meds exactly as prescribed, and with my insistence that they’re working and minimizing the pain. I insisted I was tired, it had been a long day, and the weather being so cold wasn’t helping matters.  She said,

“Mmm hmmm.  The weather.  Yes that has a grande effect but it can’t always be the answer.  You are doing everything right to minimize your disease and it’s not your fault.  But you know Fibromyalgia is progressive.  You are in a lot of pain.  I see it and you need something more than what I can prescribe.  Your current dose of Gabapentin is as high as I can go.  You take the Tramadol for breakthrough pain, but you don’t want to take it often and usage is increasing, so the answer is the pain management doctor.  I know you don’t want to do that, but my dear, you are at the point that you need it.  Please trust me.”

Sigh.

I had refused a referral to a pain management doctor a year ago and again six months ago.  I think this time, I need to trust her as she asked.  Luckily it’s one in my own doctor’s group, who has a great reputation, and my PCP knows her as a coworker in the same building.

Then she asked me about my current Rheumatologist.  

“So, my dear, I have your list of medications: one for allergy, migraine, one for depression, sleep, and one for pain plus the occasional Tramadol.  But I have nothing listed from your Rheumatologist.  What is she treating you with? How is she treating your Fibromyalgia?”

I told her the simple answer: She’s not.  You don’t see any medications or treatment plan from Dr. Rheumatologist because although she considers herself a diagnostician for Fibromyalgia, she doesn’t feel comfortable prescribing medications for it and believes it’s a sleep disorder.  She refuses to accept that an inability to sleep well is a result of being in too much pain to sleep.  She also believes it’s related to anxiety, caused by anxiety and depression refusing to see those things as being mainly/partially caused by Fibro.  She doesn’t even believe it’s a neurological disorder yet feels a Neurologist is better suited to prescribing Fibro meds or barring that it’s the job of the PCP.

I think my doctor’s jaw dropped. Her lips pursed and she huffed through her nose.

And then:

“Hmm.  I know a Rheumatologist who will accept this referral I’m sending, and since you have the diagnosis and this doctor is my colleague, he should accept you into the practice.  Fibromyalgia is one of the specialties.”

 

Guess what? I  had a message on my home voicemail when I got home from work today.  It was from the new Rheumatologist inviting me to call as soon as possible, and if I couldn’t get to them before noon today to call them on Monday to set up an appointment.  

Suddenly I’m remembering my prayer… and The White Rabbit.

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Using All The Spoons

Using All The Spoons

I think I’ve said that flare-ups suck donkey balls.  I’m fairly certain that I’ve said it, but if not, I’ll say it now.

Pain flare-ups from Fibro suck donkey balls.  Especially when said flare-ups last more than just a few days or a week.  I’m going on a little over a month.  Feels like it’s getting worse instead of better.  I can understand why some who have Fibro turn to narcotics or to medicinal Mary Jane.

I’ve been in such a bad pain flare-up that I just can’t seem to get out of it, and I’m having trouble now caring about how I handle it.  Not caring about avoiding trigger foods; it’s an effort to ignore the danger foods at picnics and as a guest at someone’s house.  Not caring about how much pain I’m actually in as long as I can rest and not think about much.  Reading helps.  I doze if I watch TV.  The chronic fatigue hits badly during this flare.

I can’t even muster up enough energy to feel discouraged.  My body is tired, my brain is tired, and I’ve been feeling Mom Guilt over not being available for all of the girls’ school things the way I should be.  The way I promised I would be, and I promised wouldn’t change when I went back to work.  I never imagined my weekends would be for recovery and I would dread going out anywhere most times on a weekend, especially on a Friday after work.  I dread going anywhere on a day after work.  I’m off today, though, to attend a PPT and for another appointment.

Since starting work again, my social life has definitely tanked.  I’m just too tired.  Friendships have suffered.  My wallet enjoys the paycheck for sure.  So do our groceries and bills.  But I’m nearly too tired for anything else.  Gracie frequently asks me when my boss is going to fire me.  My youngest, 9, recently informed me that she also hates it when she’s home and I’m not there to greet her off the bus.  The girls are all three of them upset that the “new” routine of 19 MONTHS now means I’m not home as much as they’d like.    They’re upset that I’m in more pain more often, and it seems to them I’m more tired all the time.  I probably am.  So, you know, Mom Guilt.  Especially when I have to send The Husband in my place.  The sad thing? The girls are getting used to it and don’t complain much any more when I’m in so much pain or feeling so sick from the pain that I can’t go with them all.

Weekends are usually used, when possible, to recover from the week.  I try to take it easy and do what needs to be done at a leisurely pace.  Of course that isn’t always possible.  The flare is not going away, and I wonder if my inability to have any sort of recovery time is to blame.

The past two or three weekends were unheard of.  Just on Memorial Day weekend: two birthday parties and a barbeque, one party for each day of the long Memorial Day weekend.  This weekend we had my beautiful niece “Kay” sleep over and she’s just a joy to have around no matter what.  Thinking about her is making me grin while I write this.  Then Sunday after bringing her home, we celebrated three more birthdays and stayed out all day long.  I overdid it both weekend.

I did wake up with a new pain in my right shoulder which could be due to being manipulated and maneuvered by my PCP yesterday at my physical.  I could have slept wrong last night, but in any case it’s there.  Sharp.  Worsens when I walk or move my left arm (what???) or turn my head or try to flip pancakes.  I’m going with “happened during the physical because of how she made me position myself.”  OH!!! I’m so special that she likes to see me for an annual physical every six months now.  ::sigh::  But here’s why I love her: she has clearly done a lot of homework regarding Fibromyalgia.  She wasn’t quite as knowledgeable the last couple of times I saw her.  She was ok with the knowledge but a lot of it had been somewhat outdated.  This time she was on the ball and up-to-date and far more compassionate.  She’s always been compassionate but she was able to connect so many issues I’ve had for years and asked me a lot of questions and said,

“Oh, don’t blame yourself on this.  It’s the Fibromyalgia.  You try.  You work hard.  But you still have the Fibromyalgia and that makes it harder.  I’m not worried about your weight.  Maybe you now pay attention and eat more calories and get more fat… your body is making too much sugar and you don’t get enough calories.  But you eat right, you are active and you work and spend time with your family.”

I do love this doctor.  She’s really good, with a great bedside manner.

I was so anxious about going to that appointment.  I always have anxiety going to my physicals.  When I walked in yesterday it was an increasingly high pain day, and she noticed.  I think everyone noticed.  I think I’ve fooled myself into believing that when I’m having breakthrough pain, pain that my Gabapentin can’t reduce my daily pain to “still hurts but is tolerable and can be ignored,” I can still hide the face that I’m having severe pain.  Pain that, if I weren’t taking the Gabapentin I would be writhing on the floor crying.  Anyway, she noticed and was very gentle and I could see the compassion on her face.  I didn’t see that compassion on my rheumatologist’s face.  I’m still certain that my rheumatologist thought I was drug-seeking.  Luckily my PCP knows me and has since I was 25.

We actually talked about that yesterday: pain management and being fearful of looking like a drug-seeking addict.  She turned to me and said,

“Don’t ever say that.  You need to manage the pain.  Pain is not good for the rest of your health.  If you’re in pain, you can’t be healthy or do anything.  Besides, you went far too long to even ask for help managing your pain. ::scoff::”

And then I remembered how she has tracked my pain, and how when I asked her how to go about diagnosing and getting a rheumatologist, etc, she chastised me for waiting so long to ask for help managing the pain (gently and like a mother).

I know, pain is a bummer of a topic but hey, it’s sort of in my face right now.  It’s not really a bootstrap moment.  But that’s another blog entry.

I know I have a lot to be grateful for.  I’ll even do a gratitude journal, which I haven’t done in a long time.  It’s not about not being grateful.  It’s not about not counting blessings.  It’s about, well, the nature of depression, anxiety, and the pain that came and triggered it.  The pain is just so much to deal with that I think when it gets this bad for so long, my brain breaks a little bit.  My word recall and memory are sucking wind.

Hell, just do a search in my search bar for “fibro fog” and Fibro and you’ll find a mess of stuff about why I feel this way in my brain.  My brain is so foggy right now I don’t think I can go through the whole fact thing again and repeat it in this entry.  It’s already taken me five or six stops and starts and several revisions on this entry.  :-)

I know I’ll shake it off eventually.  For now I think I need to feel this.  I need to go through it and cycle it.  I make great efforts to remain positive as long as possible every day, but I admit that it’s much more difficult when the pain is so high and I lose hair in handfuls from the flare up, sometimes three times in a week.  Maintaining the positivity and the hope for extended periods of time… well… that can feel fake and make the anxiety and depression feel worse.  But then I don’t want to bring anyone else down.  That feels stressful and… I snap.  And I know I’m not as nice as I should be.  I find it harder to censor my brain-to-mouth stuff, and people look at me funny.  Well, half the time it’s probably because it came out with words in the wrong order or I stated the definition of a word instead of the word itself.  But with my nice-filter off… oh, I’m not nice.

I can be vicious.  I don’t like being vicious.  It’s worse if I feel as if someone has personally attacked my character and motives.  It’s much, much worse if I don’t get my morning coffee.

Pain, pain, go away, come again, like, never.

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