From my main blog:
Okay, so I've given up a few times (like throwing a hissy fit when Dr. Kevorkian died and when Nick refused to take me to the animal hospital to be put down). I'm looking at the big picture here!
I still don't understand how I went from being healthy to so sick, almost overnight. It just seemed like one specialist led to the next, each adding a new diagnosis. Although I've tested negative more than once, I still have to wonder if it's Lyme disease.
By far the most frustrating aspect of this, which I've mentioned before, is trying to rule out one thing, only to be hit with another.
"Well, your CT Scan didn't show a mass in your stomach, but you do have pneumonia!" Woo hoo!
My biggest struggle lately has been with meds. I hate them.
I can hear my kids telling me not to use the word hate, so I'll say it the way they would:
I detest meds with a great burning passion!
I feel this way for a couple of different reasons:
1) First of all, I detest with a great burning passion the need for them!
At one point, I was taking a ridiculous amount of meds. That was when
the pharmacist at our large chain called to wish me a happy birthday,
and suggested that we grace their wall with a family portrait since we
were single-handedly keeping them in business!
Over the past year, I adopted a whole foods plant-based diet, in an
attempt to regain my health.
Overall, I'd made a lot of progress. I was feeling really good, I was really excited about an upcoming family vacation, and I'd been able to discontinue taking many of the meds I once took. The problem lies in my expectations. I fully expected that, after one year, I would be healthy and would be off of all of my meds. (The exception is one med that I realize that I will probably have to take forever. I'm okay with that, since the alternative is a much shorter forever!)
Overall, I'd made a lot of progress. I was feeling really good, I was really excited about an upcoming family vacation, and I'd been able to discontinue taking many of the meds I once took. The problem lies in my expectations. I fully expected that, after one year, I would be healthy and would be off of all of my meds. (The exception is one med that I realize that I will probably have to take forever. I'm okay with that, since the alternative is a much shorter forever!)
I half accidentally/half intentionally went off of all of the other meds
last month. I was kind of devastated to realize that life is still
pretty tough without them.
2) The other reason, the main reason, is that I detest with a
great burning passion, the side effects of medications, which often lead
to the need for more meds to counteract those side effects.
Case in point:
Last month, we were in a car accident on the way to the family
vacation. I was injured and was prescribed steroids for swelling in my
spine, a muscle relaxant for the spasms in my back and neck, and a
narcotic pain killer for my shoulder and other pain.
I took those at the same time that I stopped my other meds (one for
fibromyalgia and one for lymphedema), because I'd forgotten to bring
them with me. I asked my doctor to call them in to the local pharmacy,
so that I could pick them up if I needed them. I never picked them up
because, even though I knew that it wasn't good to stop them cold
turkey, I felt okay (undoubtedly because I was on the other three meds
which would mask withdrawal symptoms).
I was still in quite a bit of pain, but I spent time relaxing,
especially in the hot tub and pool at our vacation house. The hot tub
in particular really helped get me deal with the pain.
My expectation was that I would come home feeling as good as new.
That's not exactly how it happened. Instead, I ended up in the ER in
the middle of the night with a severe infection in my leg. Add IV and
then PO antibiotics to my meds list. A few days later, I was back in
the hospital, this time for five days. More IV antibiotics...and nice
IM blood thinners so that I didn't croak from another pulmonary
embolism.
Good times.
When I got home, I had to take another course of PO antibiotics, in
addition to a powerful PO anti-fungal since yeast was now playing havoc
with my body.
The problem with taking the anti-fungal (besides the horrific list of
side effects) was that, while I was on it, I would have to stop the one
medication that I was still needed to take. That med is responsible for
keeping my tumor small enough that it doesn't have to be removed
surgically. I don't take stopping it lightly.
While I continued on the antibiotics and anti-fungal, I couldn't deny
that the lymphedema was getting worse. I reluctantly went back on those
meds.
I finally finished up the other meds a few days ago, so I could start taking the tumor medication again.
The other night, out of the blue, I became really nauseated and dizzy. I
pushed through, wondering if I'd eaten something that didn't agree with
me, but not knowing what, since I usually eat the same sorts of foods.
It was still there when I woke up the next morning, until I finally
announced that I had to go lie down. Since I'm usually at the point
where I think that death is imminent before I'll lie down, everyone knew
it was serious. :)
I'm now on day four of feeling like I can't take another minute of this,
and it wasn't until last night that I remembered the one other time
that I felt this way! It was when I first started taking the tumor
medication! I'd been warned (and of course I researched, because that's
what I do) about these most unpleasant side effects, and that it would
take a month or so before my body adapted to the medication. I never
dreamed that I'd have to go through this all over again, after having
been off of the meds for just a little over a week!
So, I'm sitting at home, while everyone else is at a pool party,
clutching my stomach and feeling the room spin. Oh yeah, and feeling
very sorry for myself! :)
I detest with a great burning passion the fact that this week will mark
one year on a whole foods, plant-based diet, and this is how I'm
feeling! I expected to be celebrating, shouting my great results from
the rooftops, and best of all, rejoining life.
A little too much ego there? Definitely.
I know that I need to go back to taking one baby step at a time, but I'm
still mad. I got a taste of what it was like to feel human again, and
just as quickly as I got it, it was snatched away from me.
I guess I'll wallow in self-pity for a little while (probably until
these nasty side effects go away), and then pick myself up, and take the
next step.
