Explaining to Those with “ME/CFS” That They Cannot Have Both

Here are some things I used to think about people who tried to tell me chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) was different from myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME):

  1. They’re just trying to cause a problem where there isn’t one.
  2. They’re “those advocacy-type people” who “make a big deal out of everything.”
  3. They just want it to sound more serious, when it’s actually the same illness.
  4. It really doesn’t matter what people call it; they just want their disease to be “special.”

Yes, I *legitimately used to think these things.*

Have you ever wondered why people continue using terms like “ME/CFS” “CFIDS/ME” (and now “ME/SEID”), despite being confronted with information that clearly details their differences? Ever wanted to inform someone you care about, but aren’t sure how?

I recently witnessed this beautiful exchange of words that took place across several days, about what all too often happens when people try to educate others on this matter. Brooke and her friends have graciously allowed me to post their conversation on why people resist this truth so fervently, as a guide for all of our understanding.

(She would post it on her own blog, but now lacks the cognitive flexibility to organize and edit as I’ve been blessed to accomplish here over the past week. I’ve edited the quotations only to clarify the intended meaning and combat the effects of cognitive disability.)

“All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.” Arthur Schopenhauer, German philosopher


Renee Roszkowski: “Just got called ‘disrespectful’ for trying to educate on the fact that M.E. and CFS are not the same thing and the term ME/CFS is not really a good term.”

Brooke: “I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, it’s not too uncommon for (some) people diagnosed with CFS to get upset when people try to explain the difference. I can understand: They go so long not knowing what’s wrong with them, being judged, told it’s all in their heads, etc, and then a doctor finally gives them a diagnosis frequently linked together with a very real, fairly well-understood, officially recognized neurological disorder, so they want to cling to that. Being told they may not have M.E. (and most likely don’t), puts them back in the position of, “Well, then what’s wrong with me?” And that’s difficult to accept.

It’s hard for those diagnosed with CFS to accept that they *don’t* actually have a diagnosed illness, yet; that all they have is a diagnosis that says doctors don’t know what their diagnosis is; that it’s not a single, treatable illness able to be researched like so many have been led to believe (despite it having never been intended for CFS to be seen that way ¹). Finding out that they need to go back to pushing doctors to do whatever tests are necessary to find their *true* diagnosis can be extremely disheartening. But as you know, people (mis)diagnosed with CFS claiming they have M.E. doesn’t help them any more than someone with bronchitis claiming they have lung cancer would be helped. It only hurts both groups.

It’s just difficult to help people get past the initial frustration or fear-induced reaction of disbelief, and help them move on to the idea of, “Hey, if I don’t actually have M.E., there’s a decent chance whatever I *do* have has at least some level of treatment available–maybe even a cure.” It’s difficult to go back to pushing for answers, but it is oh-so-worth-it for those who finally find them, and find some level of relief from their symptoms!

The more people spread the truth, the more it helps all of us.”

Renee: “I can totally understand, having been diagnosed with CFS, but actually having Chronic Epstein-Barr Virus, endometriosis, probable POTS (not yet diagnosed but I meet the diagnostic criteria), and potentially having a thyroid disorder, ALL of which have fatigue as a major symptom. I totally understand.”

Brooke: “Yeah, a lot of people diagnosed with CFS also have other diagnoses, which is kind of crazy if those other diagnoses can explain their fatigue, because a requirement for a CFS diagnosis is that your fatigue is not explained by any other illness ² (again differing from M.E., which, like any other neurological illness, you can have even if you also have other conditions causing similar symptoms). Why do doctors diagnose people with CFS if their symptoms are explained by other (testable) conditions? Not only is that medically incorrect/[completely against the criteria for diagnosis], it just doesn’t make sense to me. Diagnosing these individuals with CFS [when other conditions explain their symptoms] then saying it’s the same as M.E., is like doctors issuing a statement that everybody with a condition that causes any form of fatigue will now also be diagnosed with cancer.

Jennifer Phillips: “What people mean is too often not what actually gets heard. ‘CFS is not a real diagnosis’ can all too easily get heard as ‘CFS is not a real disease and you’re making up how sick you are.’ 

You need to approach it like this:

“You probably know that CFS captures a lot of different diseases that doctors just don’t know how to diagnose, right? People with CFS are sick, but not all in the same way. But M.E. has a distinct diagnosis and known cause. So if you’ve been diagnosed with CFS, you may or may not have M.E., depending on if the doctors have done these diagnostic tests or not. If you don’t have neurological problems, you probably do not have ME. This does not mean you are not sick, but that the knowledge about M.E. likely can’t help you and chances are your doctors need to keep figuring out what your CFS really is from.

Brooke: “That’s generally how I approach it when explaining to people who don’t already know all this stuff. I’m a bit more blunt (or rather, I just don’t take the time/energy to be extra careful in wording) with people who I know already get it and have the same views, but I agree, when educating you do have to be careful not to come across as saying the person is not sick. Most people diagnosed with CFS have heard that too much in their lives, and will be quick to get defensive–I know, because at one point I, too, was (mis)diagnosed with CFS. The vast majority of people with CFS don’t have M.E., so in a way I ‘lucked out’ once I had the CFS diagnosis, in that it wasn’t too hard to find the accurate diagnosis from there (with the proper tests to correctly diagnose it). But I do think most people with CFS have at least one physical illness of some kind. Even for those whose illness is psychiatric (for example, one study found over 30% of individuals with Major Depression are misdiagnosed with CFS ³), that’s nothing to look down on. There are often very real chemical/physical causes behind mental illness, too. They simply need to find the truth, whatever their true diagnosis is, so they can look for appropriate treatments.

Renee: “I told them that I have CFS and a friend with ME, so I don’t think I sounded dismissive.”

Brooke:One of the issues I see all too often is that many CFS patients actually *don’t know* that CFS includes people with lots of different illnesses. They’ve actually been told by their doctors and others that CFS is one single illness (“otherwise, why/how would anyone research it?”) and that “it” is synonymous with ME. They think that as long as you have unexplained fatigue lasting six months or longer, you have ME. Getting people to understand that (1) there is no single “it” when it comes to CFS, (2) that ME is something *entirely* different (most M.E. patients don’t even list “feeling fatigued” as a major symptom; our fatigue is at a cellular level and can contribute to the transient paralysis many of us experience), and (3) that *every* diagnosis of CFS is a misdiagnosis [because CFS is not a single disease but a diagnosis given when you have unexplained fatigue, nowadays particularly when you have unexplained fatigue with a post-exertional crash] – that can be a real challenge.”

Jennifer: “Which is why I phrase that point up front, as something they either know or don’t know, *not* something open to debate or telling them what to believe. Like you said, that confusion is why you want to educate people.”

Richard Heckart: “A closed mind is worse than an empty one. That’s my new saying from now on. Pass it on.”


To additionally put this in perspective for you:

It’d be like if the government suddenly stopped diagnosing Multiple Sclerosis and started calling all new cases “Weak Leg Syndrome,” deciding that the primary symptom of this new syndrome is weak legs. Eventually it gets dubbed “MS/Weak Leg Syndrome.” And now they’re saying that all you have to do to help weak leg syndrome is exercise because some people got better that way; they think other people simply have weak legs because they’re too depressed to move. Oh, and because MS = Weak Leg Syndrome now, no one ever gets diagnosed with actual MS anymore, so people with actual MS never get the correct life-saving treatment, therefore everyone who actually has Multiple Sclerosis, dies. Sounds crazy, right? Can you see this actually happening with any other well-known disease like this? Not at all. But that’s what happened to us.

So I hope people understand we are not just trying to nag you, or get validation for “our special disease” while leaving out everyone else. This isn’t a club anyone wants to be in. We recognize completely that everyone is suffering because of this international confusion, and because you can’t reliably study anything that isn’t clearly defined, no matter how many times they rename it or move around the same criteria, CFS still won’t be its own disease. There was no need to create CFIDS/CFS/SEID when the illness occurring in the 1980s epidemics already had diagnostic criteria, already had a known cause, and already had a name: Myalgic Encephalomyelitis. But instead of continuing to use it, the government created something entirely different, and all government-funded research on people with classic M.E. abruptly stopped. If you get diagnosed with CFS but don’t meet the diagnosis for the original illness–M.E.–it means you have something else that your doctors haven’t yet identified, ranging from the potentially treatable to the potentially fatal. So please continue to educate yourselves, *and* your doctors, because they are not omnipotent gods incapable of mistakes. There are also things you can do to slow down the progression of M.E., if you do indeed have it.

I have a friend in the UK who’s been diagnosed with “ME/CFS” for several years and she hasn’t even been given an MRI–yet she’s in a wheelchair, getting worse, and shows several defining symptoms of MS… Or maybe she just has Weak Leg Syndrome and needs to walk it off…

a rainbow at night


Resources
Note: Because of thirty years of confusion, some information labeled under CFS may be relevant to M.E., since some researchers use additional characteristics and biomarkers to select for different subsets of patients, for example, selecting the most severely affected (which through no coincidence, tend to be those with M.E., often due to years of being told to exercise when this leads to disease progression and premature death).

(1) Holmes, G. (1988). Chronic Fatigue Syndrome: A Working Case Definition. Annals of Internal Medicine, 387-387. “We also present a working definition for the chronic fatigue syndrome designed to improve the comparability and reproducibility of clinical research and epidemiologic studies, and to provide a rational basis for evaluating patients who have chronic fatigue of undetermined cause.
(2) The IOM recommended on Tuesday, February 10, 2015, that this requirement be lifted, but please bear in mind this has not yet been implemented by the CDC or become customary for doctors; diagnoses of CFS are still and have always been made on the basis of unexplained fatigue, whereby any other diagnosis is supposed to disqualify you from having CFS, because CFS is a diagnosis of exclusion, i.e., not a specific illness but a category people are put in when doctors cannot explain your fatigue and other symptoms, even if your symptom of fatigue is post-exertional fatigue.
(3) Jason et al. Evaluating the Centers for Disease Control’s Empirical Chronic Fatigue Syndrome Case Definition. (2008). Journal of Disability Policy Studies, 20(2), 93-100. Almost 2 of every 5 people diagnosed with Major Depression meet all the criteria for CFS, too. “Findings indicated that 38% of those with a diagnosis of a Major Depressive Disorder were misclassified as having CFS using the new CDC definition.”

It’s not easy, it’s just Now.

The Nutcracker

“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.” (Oscar Wilde)

When I look back at all that I’ve done over the past year, it really blows my mind. And I did it all because I first made the choice to live and enjoy within the confines of my circumstances, just like I did last year. I set in my mind what I wanted, made whatever arrangements I could on my own to help them manifest, and let the Universe work out the rest based on what I needed to experience.

If I wasn’t supposed to have something yet (or at all), well it wouldn’t have been from my lack of trying.

I’m not completely certain of the point for me writing this… I know the things I lived, I don’t need further documentation. I don’t imagine they’d be all that interesting to anyone else, in the same way your baby photos are only important to you, and slide shows of your vacations need to be ambushed upon unsuspecting house guests if you plan to share them.

Even if I were to sit here and explain how none of it would have happened if I just blindly accepted the identity of “sick person” that most family members and even doctors wanted to give me (and that for too many years I gave to myself, as well), because “sick people” don’t live life, they wait until they’re not so sick to start enjoying themselves again, right? They wait until they’re better, don’t they…? (Not so much.)

No, people only hear what they want to hear, and until they’re ready to change, all of it only looks like “of course YOU did it, you [insert excuse here for why it’s easier for everyone else besides you].” Or some want to be spoonfed the exact steps in order to do only as much work as is absolutely necessary. To quote inspirational speaker, minister, and author Iyanla Vanzant, “You must be willing to do the work.”

And yet more than a few people said to me during a week’s worth of time, that they wished something in their life was as easy as I seem to have it………………………..

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Because nothing–absolutely nothing–has come easy for me. No one comes to acquire these traits that make life seem “easy,” because life actually WAS easy. No, they arise from hardship, and those currently living in the troughs are knee-deep in the circumstances that produce any qualities in me you claim to admire.

What one might perceive as my ease of living is actually my choice to experience it as such, not any representation of the actual work required. I’ve metaphorically crossed over mountains to get to this place from where I was, because I was not raised to be peaceful. (Please read that. Okay?)

The “of course it’s easy for you” thing is also troubling because it’s an unconscious confession of (fear) self-sabotage, the excuses you’re telling yourself for why you can’t have what someone else has. It’s giving yourself an “out” based on something external you’re unable to control or something internal you perceive yourself not to have, helping foster the belief that your situation is out of your hands, so why bother? It’s a destructive twin of “I’ll be happy when…”

You can have a radically different life without changing a single external circumstance, because the only common denominator in your entire existence, is You.

Our lives aren’t defined by only the big decisions, goals, and occurrences. However much impact they have on the rest of our days, those major game-changers are few and far between. Society tells us from the day we step outside that your life is supposed to be about getting from point A to point B, and to pass your days filling in the rest with your to-do list of how to accomplish that. But that’s incorrect. That is NOT all life has to offer, and when you finally get to all those point B’s, you’re going to realize that. So listen to all of us “hippies” who are trying to get your attention before then:

Life is made up of all the little moments you encounter between those perceived checkpoints. It’s all the smaller things you do day in, and day out, that make up the most of your life and help determine your happiness.

And I guess that’s why it doesn’t matter too much to me anymore to explain all that I’ve accomPLISHED even with the accomPLICE of disease… Because the gift of those experiences will reside within me, always. And although reaching those goals was inexplicably amazing, it’s the process of living and thinking that helped me manifest them at all, which holds the most value in the long run. And that’s the part I really want to share with this blog.

If you want things to be easier, it doesn’t start with changing your circumstances. Because you can only manipulate your circumstances to the extent that you realize what is really yours to control. And that all starts with manipulating you.

 

a rainbow at night

The Killer in the Crowd

♪ "Who is the betrayer, who's the killer in the crowd The one who creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound." ♫

“Who is the betrayer, who’s the killer in the crowd?
The one who creeps in corridors and doesn’t make a sound.” ♫

All right. Something I never considered the IVIG would do (and luckily so, or else I might not have went forward with it!) was that it would so very obviously do the one thing I’ve avoided doing at all costs for the past two years: Wake up my immune system. Because that would re-activate the bartonella like it has every time in the past since I contracted this parasitic-bacteria.

And that’s exactly what it did.

Some of you may not remember my ordeal with this infection unless you’ve somehow been following my blog for the past four years, but this post from January 2012 might help a little. I realized a year later my symptoms were re-emerging, with my bloodwork also showing increasing signs. I did everything I could not to take anything immune-stimulating and DEFINITELY not any antibiotics (which are extremely immune-stimulating), and because of this, it remained somewhat latent. I know from past experience that activating my immune system in any way triggers it to attempt fighting infections wherever they exist, despite said immune system not having everything it needs to actually fight. To make it acutely aware of bartonella’s existence would be to also initiate my imminent decline. The first time this happened, I was bedbound within eight months; the next time, within just four months.

Well, all symptoms that occurred periodically since the bartonella relapsed are once again emerging VERY reliably every 5-6 days (usually 5, as is the reason bartonella “quintana” got its name). There are the frontal headaches; the unusual rashes and bumps on my feet, ankles, lower legs, and hands/fingers; the foot pain; the shin pain; chest pain; more arrhythmia; more anemia; the volatile moods that occur the worst on that 5th day, leading to rapid cycling between hopelessness, suicidal ideation, rage, paranoia, and anything else you can imagine, before it fades as quickly as it arrived; the worser “brain fog” and neurological dysfunction; low-grade fevers; excruciating fatigue; worse dehydration… Its reliability started five days after my first infusion in October, and has continued ever since.

Some part of me cannot believe this is happening again; the other part of me has not experienced something so dangerous since practicing Buddhism, and is able to be objective enough to find it fascinating how a body reacts to infection. I’ll try to write more on that, soon.

The worst flares, the ones that scare me, happen right before my infusions. I get IVIG every four weeks (right now) and the effects only last three weeks… So the fourth week, my immune system has fallen back to its normal deficient state, which means I am at mercy of an infection with little to give it pause. I discussed this with my immunologist today and he upped my dose; we’ll see with my next infusion (which will take place from my own bed in a couple weeks) if this new dose will last long enough to stretch the entire four weeks, but if not, we’ll try every three weeks. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll have to do it subcutaneously every week just to stay stable. :\

I felt so horrible the morning of my last infusion, I thought I might more likely end up in the emergency room than the office, and wasn’t even sure if I should go. But two minutes after praying for guidance, my doctor’s office called me and told me to come in, come in immediately. So I did, and by that evening I was a different person. I was hydrated, for one, but I also no longer felt like I was being mauled from the inside out. The flare completely stopped.

For the first time in over two years, I feel like I have a chance to slow these diseases’ progressions. And after seeing how my body can fight back after receiving an infusion containing the parts of my immune system I’ve never adequately been able to create on my own, I have hope that maybe I can be like everyone else who gets a bartonella infection, and just kill it off before it kills me. This can really only go one of two ways.

If I can continue getting IVIG reliably, then maybe several months from now my new-and-improved immune system (thanks to literally thousands, upon thousands, upon thousands of donors) can finally overthrow this bartonella (and the other, less-rapidly-progressive bugs), and I’ll never have to worry about it again. That’d be nice… Really nice. But if not, I know this is still my path. I regret nothing.

a rainbow at night

There’s this friend I have…

I make sure they take their medicine on time and I’ve helped them figure out what’s actually helpful so they won’t have to take any more than necessary. I’ve helped them find interesting pill cases to take off the mental stress of staring at a dozen pill bottles always by their bed, which I know they have to reach for multiple times a day. I listen to the extensive list of doctors everyone wants them to see, and help them figure out which appointments are really important and suggest they prioritize those above the rest. I’ve called and written for them so they can get any procedure possible done from home, so they won’t have to deal with the physical exhaustion of leaving the house “just” for uncomfortable treatments, or the mental burden of being surrounded by a medical establishment that has traumatized them over the years.

I’ve helped them find clothes that were of soft fabric to help with neuropathy; helped strategize their budget to find money for important purchases that make their life easier, like an overbed desk, a smartphone to stay connected to friends that only exist outside their city, and a stereo that uses bluetooth so they can listen to anything instantly using their phone as the remote. I’ve introduced them to mindfulness and stressed how important it is to take care of their inner world, almost more so than their outer body, because they can’t always control their circumstances, their disease, or natural physical changes, but they can always decide how to think about them.

I’ve helped them make extremely difficult decisions about their treatment and supported them endlessly in whatever they had to choose, trusting that only they know what’s right for them, and that no matter what, it will be the best for them and subsequently everyone around them, including me. I’ve shared with them any and all of my collective wisdom to help make their travels on this earth a little easier, hopefully none more difficult than they must be. And I’ve done all this and more because I love them and want their life to be the best possible. I’m already so proud of them, for things sometimes I wonder if they even realize.

I’m proud of them for getting out of bed whenever they have the option. I’m proud of them for not giving up on life after it turned out so drastically different from their plans. I’m proud of them for continuing to try new things whenever they have the capacity, and for acknowledging, accepting, and loving themselves whenever they DON’T have it. I’m proud of them for taking care of their body even though that can be a full-time job in itself, and they’re disabled. I’m proud of them for continuing to do the things they love, even though they had to learn to participate in new ways; I think that’s so amazing. I’m proud of them for reaching out to others even when not many reached out to them. And I’m very proud of them for letting go of the ones who never reached out to them, because I’ve seen that it left them more energy to spend on the people who truly cherish them. I’m proud of them for not settling for anything less than authenticity.

And once the time comes–because it will–for them to move forward to the next phase of their existence? Don’t be fooled by the media or even friends and family: They’re not losing any battle against disease. They’ll simply be finished here. To paraphrase Eckhart Tolle: You don’t “have” a life, you ARE life. They are Life. I am Life. You are Life Itself, and you cannot lose something that you are. And the friend I mentioned, is myself.

a rainbow at night

My tonsil got me potentially-life-altering IVIG therapy.

And here’s how.

Intravenous immunoglobulin (or IVIG) is a blood product made from thousands of donors to produce just a single dose, and used in the treatment of immunodeficiency and immune-mediated neurological disease, amongst other serious things.

I guess the story starts several months ago, when I began contemplating seeing my immunologist again to have my immune function retested. Not that long after, I began getting spots on my tonsils which, after having some lymph node pain in my neck and ear pain, I figured was the result of an ear infection trying to push its way through; the tonsils are lymph nodes, after all.

After my ear improved with tea tree oil drops for three days, the tonsil spots proceeded to go away…and then come back worse. There I was thinking my immune system had won against something, but no! Accompanying this, my neck and face felt like they were on fire, and I had stabbing lymph node pain from my face to my right arm all day. It seemed to irritate the previous nerve damage in my face. (And mind you, I’m already on ibuprofen and percocet daily–the pain was going through them.) I wondered if I had gotten some type of stubborn virus, began to worry, and decided I needed to make an appointment because I couldn’t handle this one on my own anymore. And getting that appointment went something like this:

Mentally pair my current problem with having wanted to get my immune system checked, anyway. Decide that’s perfect, I can do two in one; have a great feeling about that. Call to make an appointment and find out my usual immunologist left, so made appointment with new woman in the office. Suddenly start to feel uneasy that I made that decision while distracted by two people in my car. Call back to inquire about which immunologist in that office likes complicated cases. Receptionist says she doesn’t know, but the one I just made an appointment with was available more (in town more often), so that might be something I could consider; I say okay and hang up. Still feel uneasy and nagging intuition that I should call back AGAIN and take the cancellation they offered for The Other doctor, even though it was two days later than the one I’d just made and I was really hurting. Try to find an explanation for this intuition (because I just like to have explanation for things, if I can); begin doing research. Find out the Other Doctor loves complicated cases, AND he has thirty years experience, AND he’s the same doctor I saw twelve years ago at the onset of the M.E. (who helped me even without realizing it by giving me a steroid to slow down the initial inflammation). Immediately called back for a third time that day to take the cancellation–finally feel at ease.

I felt ridiculous calling back so many times to change appointment dates and doctors, but. Intuition over feeling silly for a few seconds. The strange thing was that when I called to change the appointment–which I’d scheduled with the reason of having tonsil trouble and needing to recheck my immune system function–they asked me, “and you’re beginning IVIG?” I said, “…No? No one has ever offered me that!” and she said, “Hmm, that’s weird! Someone wrote down that you were starting it!” Hmmm…

I’d almost canceled my appointment before ever going to see him, because the grapefruit seed extract/olive leaf extract rinse I’d been using had–between making the appointment while in severe pain and the days before the appointment actually arrived–helped my tonsil to the point of there being no spots left. “Luckily” I didn’t. By the time I arrived, he actually said it was fine!

Long story short, my current doctor, the “Other Doctor,” who shall henceforth be referred to as My Immunologist, is wonderful. He doesn’t know fully what M.E. is, but understands that it inflames my brain and causes progressive muscle weakness. He was knowledgable that once you get certain infections there’s a possibility of them going chronic, so we didn’t have to argue over that. And for some reason, in his chart as well, was written that I was there to start IVIG. I told him the same thing, that I’d never even mentioned IVIG to anyone, and no one had ever offered it to me. (If you’re not aware, there’s a certain supply of IVIG and they don’t just give it to anyone.) So, staring at my page-long medical history and at a loss of how to help me, he offered it to me!

So, because of this tonsil and the other dozen quirky things that got me to that appointment at that time with that doctor, I have now gone through the system, gotten approved with the help of test results showing that my immune system is still.. well, my immune system, and both doesn’t have enough of things or produce adequate antibodies, and am starting my first IVIG infusion tomorrow, Monday, October 6th, at 9am at an infusion center. This will do either one of two things: Help me, or affirmatively rule out that this is never going to be one of my options so I can finally lay it to rest. But I’m obviously banking on it helping! And if I feel safe enough, they can even come do the infusions in my home!! Which, by the way? Is a method of infusion that my insurance had only begun approving three days before that appointment.

Of course, my tonsil has done what it’s been doing for literally months now and the spots have returned and even popped up on both sides of my mouth. We’ve at least ruled out strep, though. He immediately called me in an appointment to the local office to do a culture with his associate, the lady doctor, upon hearing the spots abruptly came back over the weekend and spread. Neither one of them is sure why this is suddenly happening, but she thinks those and my other lymph node pains have been the result of an overburdened lymphatic system and weakened immune system, because nothing else has changed besides my relapse back in June. Basically my body is probably just overwhelmed. I liken it to a skin infection I get on my neck only when my immune system is overwhelmed. This could lead to tonsil stones if it doesn’t clear up, but he’s hoping the IVIG will help that, too. Frankly, since the severe pain has subsided, I’m content to let it work itself out, now! (With some grapefruit seed extract rinse, to help things along.)

My favourite part about this, besides the actual IVIG, is that I get fluids before and after each all-day infusion because of my chronic dehydration. And I get to do this once a month. Which means I get fluids once a month. I haven’t said anything here, but I’ve returned to needing fluids in the ER every few months. Some friends helped me discover coconut water in June, which has helped a lot–now I just come very close but can usually “save myself”–but it’s still a daily battle. So if the IVIG goes well, I can continue getting monthly fluids as well, and dehydration will be one less thing on my balancing plate. I finally see a new endocrinologist later this month to discuss treatment for what was in 2009 borderline adrenal insufficiency, which should help that even more.

Another thing my bloodwork revealed was a high eosinophil count, which for me means the bartonella and/or mycoplasma are active–no kidding–as that was one of their first presentations. They’re not as high as they were before when things were progressing really quickly, though, so that’s comforting–maybe this IVIG can help subdue them! I’m very eager to see what will happen when I can actually make antibodies!

I’ve joined the Immunodeficiency Foundation, so if you’re on there, look out for me, or let me know your username! My thoughts about primary immunodeficiency usually take the back-burner in comparison to everything else I must balance, but when I think about it, living with it really does add a layer to my life that people with full-functioning immune systems just don’t have to worry about. I’m looking forward to being part of the support community.

 

As of this month, it’s now been two years since the big relapse (before this one) that made me stop all treatment in favor of, um, living… Now I get to try this! I’m thinking surely it will do something, for all of these factors to have led me to this point? I don’t believe in coincidence! I’ve been visited by multiple types of owls in my backyard almost every night since this whole tonsil thing started, despite maybe only hearing a wild owl three times in my entire life before this. Owls are symbolic of intuition, wisdom, the ability to see what others do not, and their presence announces a symbolic death, major life transition and upcoming change. 

Last night the Great Horned Owl visited me again.

a rainbow at night