Living Life, Within the Limits of Chronic Illness

Tag: 2019 Page 4 of 7

Trip to London. Take 2.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while now you’ll know all about my epic (well epic for me!) train journey to London for a hospital appointment which I found out on arrival had actually been cancelled back in August of last year (If not read it here). That appointment was rescheduled for May 31st of this year, so how come you’re writing about it now I hear you ask? Well back in the middle of April I had a phone call rescheduling it again, this time to May 1st if it was convenient, which it was despite the relatively short notice.

This time though the plan was to get hospital transport, to make it that bit easier on my body. I have to admit, I hadn’t factored in the stress about not being in control of when we were leaving. We were told to be ready for 8:30am and we were, as the minutes ticked by after that the anxiety built; would they not turn up at all? Would we be late for my appointment? Did they know how to get down our road? (Soooo many people have got lost trying to find our house over the years, especially since part of it became one way so you can’t enter it directly from the main road, this wouldn’t have surprised me!) All these questions and more were going through my head as I sat and waited for the transport to arrive.

At about 9:35am a Toyota Prius slowed to a stop in the middle of the road outside my house, of course there was no parking nearby and so we opened the door and asked if he was from hospital transport, and he was! And so between the driver and my Dad they loaded my wheelchair into the boot while I loaded myself into the back of the car.

So the journey to London began, it actually only took an hour and a half to get to the hospital so I was there in plenty of time for my appointment. The advantage of having been up in August 2018 for that cancelled one, was that we knew the shortcuts to the cardiac department we needed to go to – we’d been told about them to make our journey out of the hospital quicker and easier back then, and now we were putting them to good use.

The appointment itself couldn’t have gone better. Although the beginning bit was rather dicey:

Cardiologist: “How old are you?”

Me: “Errrrrrm…..errrrr…..26?” *Looks at my Dad who came in with me just to double check* “Yes 26”

Cardiologist: “I have to warn you the questions only get harder from here on”

*We all burst out laughing*

That was the ice broken and from then on things went well. He actually listened, and didn’t dismiss anything as just me being a lazy, hypochondriac! After my last experience with a consultant this was my main worry about the appointment.

We discussed my huge array of symptoms, of which I had a list in my bag so I didn’t forget (such is the extensive number of them), and when he heard I had a list he asked if he could look at it and keep it for his records. I even told him about some of my weirder symptoms, such as my sternum cracking when I move sometimes, and the bright red blotchy rash I get which doesn’t itch but is unsightly and I can’t pinpoint a reason for. For both of those symptoms I began with the words, “This will sound mental but….”, and after telling him about them he told me it wasn’t mental at all.

The upshot of it all is I’ve got to have some tests, but I’m showing symptoms of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), as well as potentially a few other things. I had my ECG and some blood tests done there and then, to avoid too many more London trips. I had to have my blood done in the blood department though rather than cardiology, because I have a tendency to faint. This meant an hour wait, but ultimately it was worth it; I got a LOVELY phlebotomist who kept me talking the whole way through AND I didn’t even feel faint once, let alone actually faint!! A minor miracle in itself. (The hour wait in which I’d probably drunk over half a litre of squash probably helped matters too).

It was another hour or so wait for hospital transport home, in which time we made use of the Costa Coffee next door to the transport waiting area, picked up a Metro and started on the puzzles. Then another hour and a half drive, before we arrived home. Utterly exhausted but stupidly happy.

The weeks that have followed have been a little on the tough side; the post exertional malaise wasn’t as bad as I expected in the three or four days that followed. But a week on and I had the most awful headache, which would only ease a little, not completely go, for three or four days, and then BAM at around 11:30am on May 11th I felt like I’d been hit by a ton of bricks. I curled up on the sofa and dozed for the rest of the day. Hoping to feel better after a good night’s sleep, but alas I awoke physically worse. I could barely move, and I have been slowly recovering since.

There’s a couple more appointments in London over the coming months, for more tests on my heart. And weirdly right now I feel strangely calm about them all. The reason I say strangely calm is that I have never been a fan of hospitals, and as such try to avoid them at all costs. Whether it’s because I now have a doctor who actually believes there is something wrong, causing these symptoms and wants to help alleviate them I don’t know. But I currently don’t have that feeling of dread which usually accompanies the prospect of a hospital appointment, local or otherwise! I’m just going to go with the flow and trust that everything will work out the way it is supposed to, although there will probably be some anxiety on the day when waiting for hospital transport to arrive!

I will be a little more careful in the weeks that follow those appointments though, because I can only assume that this time round I did too much too soon even though it was less than I usually do. This will be difficult with the next appointment as I have 2 appointments in the week that follows it; both more local, with my Occupational Therapist and my GP but they will still take their toll.

Overall though I am optimistic that I am now on the way to getting some answers as to what is causing some of this vast array of symptoms I encounter on a day to day basis. Perhaps even some treatment which will not only mean those symptoms improve but allow me to manage a little more than I do now. There is finally a bit more hope that the medical professionals may actually be able to do something for me, and after 14 years of illness with very little support medically, this is a big thing.

Share this:

Those dreaded words…

Someone actually uttered five scary sounding words to me recently. “You’ll soon be turning thirty”.

Doesn’t sound like anything major I hear you say. Well to me it is.

Yes I still have a few years until I turn 30, although I am essentially the wrong side of 25 for it not to be classed as “fast approaching”. And here I am:

  • Still living with my parents
  • Being cared for by my parents
  • Unable to leave the house on my own
  • Dependent on someone to push my wheelchair when I do get out
  • Unable to drive
  • Unable to work
  • Never had a night out
  • And there’s a whole lot more I can’t think of at the moment.

I know this doesn’t really matter; age is just a number and we shouldn’t be judged on what we have achieved at each birthday. And yet with “milestone” birthdays, somehow it seems that much harder to just ignore and accept what chronic illness has robbed me of.

On my 18th, I managed to have a party at home with family, family friends and my best friend. Back then my M.E. was lot milder than it had been, and is now for that matter. But I still couldn’t manage a party out somewhere. I only had the one friend from school that I could invite as I hadn’t been in school for the previous 5 or 6 years due to illness. I was starting my degree at The Open University, studying from home part-time; not the university experience most 18 year olds go through.

On my 21st, I’d relapsed significantly in the years that had followed my 18th. I was back to having moderate M.E. and using a wheelchair to get out. Everything had to be carefully planned to avoid too many visitors at one time. We had a quiet family walk (wheel for me) round part of a local park, and lunch outside the cafe there. Then we went to my Grandparents for a buffet meal with them and a few other family members. I was around halfway through my Open University degree, while most friends had finished their degrees and were starting their careers.

Chronic illness almost factored in another milestone birthday on it’s own. My 24th birthday effectively marked the point where I’d been ill half of my life. That one was a hard one. I can’t really explain why, I guess its just a scary thought, being ill half your life. And I suppose it hammers home that this might just be the way life is going to be; the lack of improvement, the almost yearly relapses, it’s difficult to see a way in which things will change for the better.

For some reason or another, I have always hoped that I would be recovered by my next milestone birthday. Which makes each milestone birthday harder too; there’s always a sense of disappointment that despite my hopes and dreams of being recovered, or at the very least a lot better than I have been, by my next milestone birthday I’m not. My 18th was the exception but back then my hope had been that I would be fully recovered by my 18th, and so it was still very disappointing to still be ill, albeit not as severely.

And so it will come as no surprise that despite the fact I should really know better, I had hoped that by the time people started mentioning my thirtieth birthday I would be a bit better than I am. I would have a partner, possibly even have moved out of my parents home because of that. I would be working from home, managing to create a career that worked around my illness. Life certainly wouldn’t be pretty much the same as it has been for three or four years, there wouldn’t be endless medical appointments trying to find answers to worsening symptoms, and I wouldn’t be entirely dependent on others to get out of the house, even if I had to use a mobility scooter for that to be the case.

As much as I try to quash these hopes, and in the years in between milestone birthdays I generally just accept life the way it goes, each time a milestone birthday approaches I end up feeling disappointed that I’m not where I imagined I would be; even with allowances made for illness. I know it’s daft. I know not all dreams come true. But I can’t help but hope that one day, eventually, things will change for the better in some way.

Share this:

A Day in My Life 2019

Well it’s ME Awareness Day 2019 and as is tradition I’m writing about what it’s like to spend a day in my life with moderate ME.

I wake up at 8 am to the sound of my alarm, stretch out and shut the thing up so it doesn’t get any louder! I feel unrefreshed, as if I haven’t slept as much as I have. I stretch out assessing which joints and muscles hurt most today in order to decide just how I should move so I don’t exacerbate the pain. I sit myself up in bed and put my glasses on, then slowly swivel myself round so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed.

From there I reach out and grab my dressing gown, slipping it on whilst sat on the edge of the bed. Letting my body adjust to having my feet down and sitting up. I go downstairs and get myself a bowl of cereal and a drink before curling myself up in my armchair in the living room, eating breakfast before taking my morning pills.

I rest for a bit after breakfast before going upstairs to get some clothes ready to get dressed. I sit on my bed getting the clothes out of the drawers, only standing to get things out of the wardrobe when necessary. Then I make my way slowly back downstairs, before going to the bathroom to wash and dress. This is mostly done sitting down atop the closed lid of the toilet.

I then sit down and rest for a little while, the simple act of dressing having exhausted me. I’ll usually catch up on a couple of easy to follow TV shows while my Dad is out at work, this is followed by a bit of a rest before I do something crafty – card making, knitting or crochet usually- for a little while.

I have another rest before getting myself a sandwich or something similar for lunch which is eaten in the living room whilst seated in my armchair.

Afternoon’s are one of those things which these days are difficult to pin down an average of. I suppose more often than not they’re spent chatting with my parents and resting, not achieving a great deal. Mainly because the less average ones are spent venturing out in my wheelchair to shops while it is quieter than normal, and as a result I’m not able to do a lot on the other afternoons. And of course there are the days I have medical appointments which I always try and book in the afternoons because it is my ‘better’ part of the day.

Whatever happens in the afternoon by five o’clock I am at the very least beginning to flag. The exhaustion and pain levels are increasing and in recent times the light headedness that comes with feeling faint puts in more of an appearance than it has throughout the day.

I’ll get changed into my pyjamas, often with help from one of my parents, before curling up in the kitchen armchair and reading the recipe instructions for dinner to my Dad as he cooks – that’s about as useful as I get when it comes to cooking at the moment, and even then I often miss things out by mistake!

Dinner is eaten in the living room, tablets taken and then I settle down in my armchair listening to what’s going on around me, occasionally joining in, and sometimes knitting or crocheting a little bit more if my hands and concentration allow.

I take my last med of the night at 8:30pm, and by 10pm I am more than ready to get ready for bed. I shuffle off to the bathroom before dragging myself up the stairs with one of my parents following and/or supporting me as by this time it is a struggle to lift my foot high enough to get up each step.

I settle down in bed, write in my journal then turn out the light before finding the most comfortable position possible and wait for sleep to claim me.

As with previous years post this is just an average day. Some days are worse, some are better. I adjust my activity levels and the aids I use accordingly. But this is the amount of activity I think I can handle with no negative effects on my health. Anything more and I pay the next day.

Looking back on last year’s post it’s heartening to see things have improved a little since then, although the dizziness is the worst it’s been for a while, and I’m still not in the best of health, there have been small improvements over the past 12 months and that is something to be positive about.

Some things haven’t changed since last time though, so I shall quote from my post back then:

“…when people visit I always put on a brave face, an act so they don’t see just how bad the ME is. I don’t do this for my sake, but to protect them from the truth. There are some who see the ‘real’ me now but it’s taken a few years for me to ‘drop the act’ for them. And if they themselves are having troubles or stresses the ‘act’ of being better than I am and not letting on how bad I really am comes back to protect them. I don’t want to add to their worries.”

Share this:

Making Progress

So it’s been a busy few weeks here, I’ve been managing to tortoise along at a slow pace. Life seems to have calmed down for a little while, although judging by the look of next week things crank up again!

Things with my health have been pretty stable, I’ve adopted this new level of ‘normal’, and accept I may spend the odd evening lying on the living room floor to ease the dizziness. There is still a whole lot more I long to be doing, but for now I know I need to listen to my body and not push it too much.

I’m still not perfect though, and in certain situations there is no choice but to push it. For example my upcoming hospital appointment in London; the travelling there and back in a day, combined with the appointment itself will use more energy than I actually have, but it is necessary.

In true pacing style, I have finally managed to finish painting my bookcase; it’s taken three months, and a lot of help from my parents, but it is finally done and in my room! Now I’ve just got to unpack the boxes and sort out where everything is going again, a little bit at a time obviously.

I had hoped to do something for M.E. awareness day on May 12th, beyond my usual Day in my Life post, but unfortunately my plans have had to change as my hospital appointment has been brought forward from the end of May to the beginning of it. I don’t know how long it will take me to recover from that, so have reluctantly decided not to put myself under any pressure to do anything more than a blog post or two, and support other people’s events where possible.

 

Share this:

Page 4 of 7

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén