Unpopular opinion time: Which is better?

I don’t know why this is an unpopular opinion, but it is:

I feel blessed to live in a country where I can obtain so many accomodations to offset the effects of my disease.

If I were in many other places, or a third world country, I would have died within a few months of getting sick; there would have been no chance for me. Obviously that wasn’t the journey I was meant to take, would not have given me the lessons I was meant to learn, so here I am.

Things are not perfect, but it is a wonderful thing that we do have support systems in place for people in my situation, regardless of how many politicians call us malingerers or how many bitter people try to loop everyone on social security/welfare into one big “something for nothing” group.

All these things–social security, medications, things like laptops that help us connect to others in a housebound state, and things like wheelchairs and adjustable beds and home IV therapy–give us a chance at life that many before us never had.

This thinking I’m doing comes from a frame of mind that doesn’t expect other people to owe us anything. It comes from pondering Buddhist philosophies which simply seek to be realistic, accept What Is, and not live life in a constant state of wanting. It comes from thinking that we are worthy of love and joy and peace simply because we exist, but that suffering also exists– as a fact and not a punishment.

Yes I am upset at the discrimination of the now-infamous “47%”; yes I think it’s our responsibility as human beings to try and care for one another and get help to those who need it; yes I think it’s our responsibility to speak out against injustice, when we have so many means to help people, and those in places of power are not cooperating.

I’m not suggesting we simply turn up our noses, say “it is what it is” and not try to change it. But while you’re waiting for things to change, you have to accept the way things currently are; you have to realize what you have, and realize how blessed/fortunate you are to even have that. If you have something that the majority of the world does not, you are blessed.

You have to realize how amazing it is that you have methods to help manage your illness; medicine to help ease your pain; things like soft beds to lie in; the right food to eat when so many of us have allergies and intolerances, a place to live that has temperature control when most of us have dysautonomia. Many in developed countries, I think, forget that the majority of the world does not have these things to the exceeding surplus that we do.

I can’t forget that if I were somewhere else without these accomodations, I would perish.

Of course it is disappointing when there exists external items to help you even further, that are created for the purpose of helping–like money, certain foods, certain medical treatments–and for whatever reason, you don’t have access to them.

All the time, I see people with myalgic encephalomyelitis with no hope of getting better because research for our disease is not being funded (though the FDA did recently vow to find medications to treat both CFS and M.E.–not “ME/CFS,” but both seperate, distinct conditions). I see people with Lyme disease and its related infections trying to raise funds for their own treatment and cure which DOES exist, but because our government does not currently believe in our illness, getting access to it is sometimes impossible. I see people who are disabled and, due to the system we’ve created, should be able to receive benefits to live on, but are not getting them. Things are not perfect.

But what about what you do have? What about the things that help you face the day, without which you’d have been gone long ago?

Sometimes when I am in those situations–lacking things that I “should” have, but do not–I try to find gratitude for those that do have them. I try to be happy for those whose test results and various means of funding enabled them to get PICC lines and ports and hyperbaric oxygen therapy; somewhere there is a person who cannot get any antibiotics, who wishes they had the medication I do. Somewhere out there is a person who wishes they had a doctor who believed them; adequate pain management; funding to get accomodations for daily living; friends who were there for them; family who supported them.

I’m still going to be extremely disgruntled when my head feels like it’d be better off removed.

I’m still going to feel like crying when I hear another child with M.E. has been forced into asylym because their doctors do not understand what they’re doing.

I’m still going to be bothered by the fact that I will never be able to get IV antibiotics with my test results, just because my immune system is too poor to make the tests show my positive antibiodies.

Again, I am not saying we are to be emotionless zombies without a reaction to anything. I don’t want to type this and make it seem like I live in another world where nothing bothers me. I am trying my best to improve my state of being through whatever means available, just like the next person, even if often my body cannot cooperate yet.

I just find it better to guide our thoughts into being thankful, instead of dedicating so much of our time and energy to things we do not possess; self-compassion is better than self-pity. I find it better to realize that having anything to help us through disease is a miracle, because we are not, in fact, entitled, but blessed that we got sick in a place where anything at all could be done for us.

I just find it better to live in gratitude.

 

a rainbow at night

(Postscript: I was honestly scared to post this. I feel like, if absorbed in the wrong way, it will seem like I’m saying, “You’re lucky to get what you get, so shut up,” and that is not my intention. I know I’m not entirely responsible for how people perceive my writing, but I do hope I’ve framed it enough in the way of, “You are lucky to get what you get, and I think it’s best to focus on that while you try to get whatever else you need.”)

Asthma, reflections on having PANDAS, and mycoplasma.

First off, I have to say I was shocked at the response I got on my last blog entry. I halfway expected people to yell at me for saying it, but I’m glad everyone connected with it so much!

As for me, I had no idea it’d already been two weeks since I last posted. I have been more social than ever (online), and also more fatigued than ever. Because of this (and my arms, of course) I’ve had to choose my activities wisely, and pick one main thing to do per day.

 

The most important thing to report this time is that my random cough continued to be persistent and began to worsen, so I saw my primary physician who says I now have asthma. (Well, asthmatic bronchitis–two in one, aren’t I lucky!) If I were to assume this to be infection and/or herxing related, I would say this:

Since I’m fighting Mycoplasma pneumoniae, a bacterium that usually causes pneumonia (but also loves to attack your nervous system), my best guess is that treating this beast has caused a lot of die-off in my lungs, where it’s most likely been hiding out, at least partially. And said die-off may be causing the inflammation that’s triggering this asthmatic response… I mean, it can’t be any coincidence that as soon as I start trying to kill the pathogen that has caused lung problems for me in the past, I get inflammation in my lungs, right?

If that’s not it, then I have genetics to thank. But I’m going to go with “will hopefully go away as I treat Mycoplasma” until it proves itself otherwise. At least I’m not having any trouble breathing. I just have this cough, which, after three days on Dulera (which is literally just my Nasonex in an inhalable form…mixed with formoterol), I’m much, much better. :)

 

Also, I’m convinced I had PANDAS as a child. It stands for “pediatric autoimmune illness associated with streptococci,” and is basically what it sounds like: An autoimmune response to a streptococcal infection that causes damage to the brain, primarily resulting in obsessive-compulsive disorder and tic-disorders. In the “My Story” section I ponder over whether or not something triggered my childhood disorders of OCD and Tourette’s Syndrome, whether it could have been a brush with tick-borne infection, or something similar. But this makes too much sense…

  • My immunodeficiency making me extremely susceptible to infections (especially Strep),
  • a history of autoimmune responses to things (like vaccinations),
  • the fact that my OCD and Tourette’s were acute-onset…

With that lovely combination of factors, I was practically a walking target to get M.E. in the future, wasn’t I? :\

People with a history of PANDAS are supposed to stay on prophylactic antibiotics until age 21… Why? To prevent additional episodes of this infection-triggered disorder that could lead to further brain damage. Now I wonder, if my doctors had known about that… If I had been on prophylactic antibiotics until age 21, and that had prevented the two years of slaughter my immune system went through, contracting every infection that passed my way after I got that Hepatitis B inoculation, if the bug that triggered my M.E. would have still triggered it, or maybe I wouldn’t have gotten it… It doesn’t quite matter, at this point. But. It’s interesting. Like another piece of my puzzle…

 

On that note, I have to state the obvious, that Mycoplasma and Strep are very similar in this respect: They usually cause upper respiratory infection, but in the immunocompromised, they can wreak havoc everywhere, especially the nervous system. You know what happened to me when I got both Bartonella and Mycoplasma a month apart from each other in 2008? My Tourette’s syndrome and stuttering flared up so bad I could barely talk to people; I also got extremely paranoid, showing clear neuropsychiatric involvement. Additionally, that’s when my movement disorder began worsening. I had the beginning signs of the dystonia since getting Lyme disease (even though I didn’t know I’d gotten Lyme, yet), but after those two infections, things progressed very quickly. (The Tourette’s and stuttering eventually died back down, though they love to pop up at random, especially when I’m under stress.)

Treating Bartonella helped it A LOT…a lot a lot. But the thing is, the antibiotics that treat Bartonella are the same antibiotics that treat Mycoplasma (or at least the ones I was on, except for Bactrim), so I have no idea of knowing which infection is responsible for it. It’s not gone yet (as evidenced by my oromandibular dystonia showing itself more lately), but the worst parts of it stopped progressing after a year on Rifampin (with other antibiotics). That would suggest to me that the Mycoplasma may have been the trigger, while Bartonella aggravated it because it agitates the nervous system so very much.

This is one of the reasons I can’t type up a post explaining my Bartonella experience and treatment: Because even though I can pinpoint a lot of which symptoms were caused by Bartonella–especially the ones that recurred every 5-7 days–I have absolutely no way of knowing exactly which infection caused what, specifically in regards to my dystonia and other related movement disorders. Because I got those infections a month apart from each other, and I treated them both at the same time. I can type about my theories, but I can’t put a bunch of information out there that people are going to read, without being sure. All I have are correlations, and patterns, which I happen to have a talent at spotting.

Two years ago I hypothesized that Mycoplasma (which I easily tested positive for on the first try, unlike the others which I had to coax out with speciality labs) was going to play a much larger role in my health issues than I had at first assumed… I had no idea how right that would be.

If anyone has any experience or information they want to share with me about PANDAS, suspected PANDAS, or similar things triggering OCD and Tourette’s Syndrome, feel free to comment or contact me.

a rainbow at night

“Pay attention to me, pay attention to how I got this, and how hard it is for me to get my health back, so you can avoid it.”

I was going to make a more drawn-out post explaining why I’m not participating in any of the awareness campaigns of May concerning my illnesses…but then I came upon the realization that I don’t owe anyone justification for my actions! Or wise inactions, as they were.

And I am comforted by the knowledge that many other people with these conditions are feeling the same way I am: For those who can advocate–and I do it at random, it does have its purpose, particularly in our government to let them know we’re still here–that is fine. If it gives you purpose and belonging, then do it. For others like myself, my entire life is an advocacy campaign. I don’t need a month. Or a day. I get 365 days, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day, of “this is what this disease does.”

Pay attention to me, pay attention to how I got this, and how hard it is for me to get my health back, so you can avoid it. Know that I was just like you, once. Know that I didn’t think it could’ve happened to me, either. That’s the biggest advocacy I can do.

Talking about Lyme or M.E. every second of every day for a month (and nothing coming of it, because people who have their minds made up are NOT willing to hear anything else) is not going to help me at all. I am not my disease. I am not Lyme disease, or mycoplasma, or myalgic encephalomyelitis, or autonomic neuropathy, or dystonia.

They’re just things that have passed into my life to help shape and change it into something else. That’s all.

I’ve spent the past decade in advocacy-mode. I’ve done my part, I think. In my absence there will be others. I personally think people learn more if you’re not yelling at them in desperation. I’ve been blessed to help several people find out they had Lyme, for example, and it had nothing to do with advocacy. You can’t force the information on anyone–if they want to know, they will seek. And if they’re interested, I am here.

So instead of advocacy, myself and several, several others I know, are focusing on what makes us feel normal. Sure, our every waking moment may be imposed upon by symptoms and dysfunction, but that is not all we are. No matter how sick I’ve ever gotten, nor how sick I will ever be, there’s always more to me than an illness. This blog is my health diary, yes, that is the POINT of this journal, to track my symptoms and such, but I don’t want anyone to get the idea that it’s all that I am. I have friends and family and pets and hobbies and interests (often obscure ones) just like anyone else. And I am an artist. Not because the title makes me feel important, but because at my core, that’s how I express myself, it’s who I become when my physical limitations allow.

“Every job is a self-portrait of the person who did it. Autograph your work with excellence.”

So yes, no posts about my conditions (though I did finish the “What is M.E.?” section a while back). It’s time to cultivate the parts of my life that inspire and enhance, what makes me feel human and normal, not advertise what makes my life a living hell for the other 90% of the day, mostly to people who already know what I go through, anyway. And I’m glad I’m not alone in thinking this.

I’ll leave you with this link: 60 Ways To Make Life Simple Again

a rainbow at night