IVIG can help eradicate Bartonella infection: My success thus far.

Photo of the sun setting into the Pacific ocean at dusk in San Francisco, California, USA
estimated reading time: 5 minutes 12 seconds

After almost seven years with this infection, I think the bartonella may be gone for good.

If you recall from this previous post, I talked about how my health was either about to nosedive or finally overthrow this infection thanks to the millions of antibodies I now get infused into my body every four weeks (certainly many of which are bartonella antibodies, since this bacteria is so common)… Guess which one happened?

Since April, I’ve been having none–none–of those symptoms I talked about eight months ago.

My favourite part of this (aside from the “won’t have bartonella-induced damage as a possible cause of death” thing, of course) is that I finally have my personality back, without a lapse every five or six days. I am emotionally stable! I also think that toxoplasmosis may have been playing a far greater role than my doctors originally thought, because my level of extraversion is also completely gone and I am now a solid INFJ instead of the ambivert I’d been for most of my life… But that’s a topic for another day.

As I said the first time the bartonella was painstakingly beaten into remission, it’s been known to relapse, sometimes even up to 15 years later. But for right now? It’s over.

It’s over it’s over it’s over.

And now, to elaborate on all the things that IVIG has done and is doing: Continue reading “IVIG can help eradicate Bartonella infection: My success thus far.”

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.” ♫

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. Continue reading “The Killer in the Crowd”

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

How do I sum this up in a title?

Avenue of the Giants, Humboldt Redwoods State Park

First, I can’t thank anyone enough for the response on my last post; it was quite unexpected. I’m glad to have touched the hearts of so many and to have received such a beautiful outpouring of love and support in the comments and e-mails that followed. It really helped me feel less alone, and you should all stop to think of how amazing you are for reaching out to a practical stranger. Thank you.

Right now the biggest thing on my mind is, a friend of mine who I wrote about several months ago, Brooke, is in the very final stages of myalgic encephalomyelitis. There were recently several weeks when insurance troubles denied her hospice care, during which she deteriorated very quickly. Last I heard, or anyone heard, she was re-evaluated and waiting to see if they would re-accompany her in her final days. I assume she’s received a decision from them thus far, but as anyone with or taking care of someone with M.E. knows, it’s all you can do to breathe sometimes, and I haven’t heard anything else. I do know she is getting at least some pain relief, and that is a blessing, and recent complications mean that it won’t be long…which is probably a blessing, too, if you ask me. She worked extremely hard to produce this post and a subsequent one to cover any confusion about her decision to deny “life saving” measures (questionable terminology) such as feeding tubes, which would only work to extend her suffering past her natural end. Her family will be delivering any updates as they occur…

[Edit: As of writing this, she’s managed to produce one more post clarifying that her amazing doctor convinced hospice to accept her for another 60 days. And amazingly, her bravery has led to being a part of an upcoming documentary about the severity of true myalgic encephalomyelitis, one that might chronicle her passing from this world in an effort that will accomplish her original goal of Documenting M.E. and all that it entails, to help spread the truth for us all.]

Also, I’m in the midst of a further relapse. My health has been in a state of decline since June, and additional stressor after additional stressor pushed my body over the edge. Or at least that’s what I assume happened, because I can’t pinpoint one particular thing that did it. I do know the emotionally draining act of writing a goodbye letter to my friend–because life happens–sent me into incapacitating illness for a straight week, during which I was struggling to remain conscious every single day. It was quite scary, but I’ve since become able to stay awake more easily…

It actually took me a while to realize I had relapsed. When I first felt the decline, I expected to recover in a few days, as my health is highly sporadic and changes every day, every hour, every ten minutes some days… And I even expected this recovery might be more extended because of the seemingly continuous stream of triggers… But while I was knocked out last week, it occurred to me that my waiting to improve had spanned about 8-9 weeks already.

I may write further posts on this and other topics, soon, but right now it’s easier for me to do other things that only require small periods of focus. I’m updating my website in several areas to include accurate information about the severity of Lyme disease, bartonella, and mycoplasma infection; a new section on Mindfulness; and a reference page for those needing help understanding/caring for people with severe myalgic encephalomyelitis, which will include Brooke’s post. (Speaking of which, Severe M.E. Awareness Day is August 8th. I don’t need reminded, though.)

Please continue to send your prayers, metta, and positive thoughts to our dear Brooke, her husband, and the rest of her friends and family. Also, to everyone who has recently subscribed here, thank you, and rest assured I will continue to write. (The Life Lessons section has a collection of my favourite posts, in the mean time.) My girlfriend might even be helping write a few sections and/or articles. I shall be focused on finding stability in this relapse.

If you think you can help with any of the sections or want to contribute either with writing or links that you’ve found particularly helpful, don’t be shy about getting in touch! This site is for my expression, but the information I stand behind should be for the benefit of all.

a rainbow at night

How Wrong I Was: My One-Year Anniversary Without Treatment

The Artist's Desk
Working on my latest piece; if this doesn’t say “artist’s desk” I’m not sure what does…

The other day I had an experience while having coffee with the squirrels. Well, sitting on the back porch, but same difference.

I was watching all of the animals, and listening to the birds, and feeling the gentle breeze. A chickadee, my favourite, was chirping in the midst. One might think this was a normal backyard any other day, but at that moment, it was like a sanctuary. There was so much out there: I counted at least ten species of animal within twenty minutes. And as everything just went along with its life, I was suddenly very overwhelmed with the knowledge that life always goes on. It’s humbling and frightening and comforting all at once.

When I opened the door to go outside, everything stopped to look at me. As I sat down quietly and started drinking my coffee, everything went back to its business of finding dinner and fluttering about. Their acceptance reminded me that I was also part of it all—I belonged there.

I glanced over at my house and the walls that separated my quarters from their quarters. Theirs, a tree; mine, a room and bed made from the tree. There were walls to “separate” me from the outside air and ground, protect me from danger and the harsher elements just like any other creature, but all that really separated me from those squirrels and birds and butterflies were four inches of material that the earth gave me in the first place. The stars are always above us even if all we see is a ceiling. We are part of everything. And the earth made room for me to exist, right here.


Then a few nights earlier, I did that thing where you open your closet to get something, and end up distracted by other things you find. Not quite Narnia, but I snatched the sweaters and shoes I’d bought earlier this year, for Autumn. Put on a hat. All on top of the dress I wore that day. Looking into my full-length mirror, witnessing how perfectly it all went together, I had a “moment.”

I felt so blessed to be able to experience this, all of this. Feeling “okay” with life, even if it is scary; wearing clothes that represent me, that I picked out instead of the clothes others had passed down to me; sharing my days with the love of my life, and being with them during both our favourite time of year; being close to my family; and miraculously having funds to take care of everything I need AND want…

It was as if the clothes were symbolic of the pieces of my life I’d chosen and changed over this year, hoping they would come together in the future, and the way they “fit,” a reminder of how my life had worked out. All my preparation–in wardrobe choices and life choices–had proved to be more perfect than I could have ever imagined. I had a distinct sense of “I made it.” My legs give out more and more lately, but I honestly didn’t even know if I’d still be walking at all, much less this well, after a year of no treatment, considering how quickly things progressed the previous times treatment failed… I just didn’t think any of this would be possible. How wrong I was. How wrong I was.


Today marks the first anniversary of my relapse in 2012, and the day I stopped treatment. (You know, regardless of calendar dates, Autumn has always felt like the beginning of the year, to me…)

Things AREN’T going how I thought they would. I did NOT experience remission from M.E. after ten years of living with it, like many do; I did NOT cure the bartonellosis; my pain continues to expand; I still have mycoplasmosis and I am NOT beating Lyme disease. I will NOT be going into any other treatment programs with the motive of being 100% cured of any disease. But I look at who I am now, and the people in my life, and the way I experience life, and I wonder if things could possibly be any better for someone in my situation… I really don’t think they could.

I Am Free

a rainbow at night

(PostScript: There are almost 300 of you following this blog, now. I don’t know how that happened, but thank you for being a part of this.)