Thursday, 18 November 2010
Gifts of Illness
I had a very traumatic childhood and lived amongst some quite horrific day-to-day events. I had to witness things that no child should be subjected to and I was forced to give up the normal care-free childhood and grow up too quickly. And yet, although I wouldn't in a million years want to repeat those experiences, I have always been aware that they brought their own unexpected gifts. I gained a level of maturity and sensitivity much earlier than my peers, I came to appreciate the immense importance of a home environment that is secure and full of love. I realised the damage alcohol abuse can cause and therefore greatly reduced my likelihood of ever having a drinking problem. And I developed a hatred of violence that made me someone who didn't see my fists as ways of resolving anything.
In the same way, getting sick recently has allowed me to receive positive insights that will also hopefully stay with me throughout my life. I have gained an appreciation of the simple pleasures that can lift my spirits. None of those things are related to how much money I have, what type of car I own or whether I have the latest gadgets or designer clothes. My cat wrapping her big bushy tail around me when I'm in pain or feeling down. The sound of raindrops on the window. Being able to walk across the room without being breathless. There are countless other examples but what links them all is that they are essentially free and often taken for granted.
This also extends to my body. The old truism "at least you have your health" really cannot be argued with. I know that now, although I never did before. Now that all those 'automatic' functions we all take for granted have gone haywire in my body I can finally appreciate what a wonderful instrument the human body truly is. For years it served me well, even if I taxed it with various toxins or unhealthy additions. Just think about it for a minute - our temperature, heart beat, breathing, energy supply, brain function, blood flow ... they all just 'work' ... until they don't. Never again will I be so dismissive of good health.
And then there are others in my life. I have always been very comfortable being in my own company, sometimes too much so, and I've been very cautious about allowing people into my world or offering my friendship. I've also always been a little too aware of how I might portray myself to others. Now, my dignity is hanging by a thread. Thankfully, I can still carry out all my 'personal care' needs but it's touch and go sometimes. And so, I am starting to discover the joy of surrounding myself with people who accept me for me. People who don't need me to impress or entertain them. This is also allowing me to develop more compassion for humanity. I have been quite hard and cynical over the years, probably as a result of what I learnt about how unreliable and selfish people could be when I was a child. Now I am beginning to appreciate the beauty in certain individuals much more and to give them, and myself, more of a break. The standards I've set for myself and those around me have always been far too high and now I can be much more forgiving.
The other side of that though is that I have an acceptance that there are people who have been in my life who will naturally drift out of it now I'm not able to partake in socialising etc. I was sad about that at first but now I'm accepting and calm about it. There will also be people who I come to realise are not helpful to my wellbeing now that I have so little energy to spare. Another gift of getting ill is that I no longer feel the need to try to work out and solve everyone's problems for them. I used to do that even if they never asked or wanted me to!
Finally, I have been given the gift of just being who I am. It's ironic that I worked on trying to uncover the real me for years without success and now that I've been struck down the real me has come to the fore naturally. I realise this may all sound rather 'new age' but I don't care. I'll end with a gift that all of us have but don't take advantage of ... the joy of doing and thinking nothing. Sometimes I have no choice but to just disconnect from any type of activity and remove all thoughts. Those periods of staring into space with a glazed expression and a slack jaw are wonderful - try it ;)
Thursday, 30 September 2010
The Hard Truth
The past week has contained some challenging days. Days where I've seriously wondered whether I have the desire and strength to persevere for the long haul. To clarify, I don't mean I am suicidal or depressed (although I naturally have periods of low mood, as anyone in this situation would). I mean from a more pragmatic point of view. If my life for the foreseeable future is to be led from a sofa/bed and I am unable to retain enough energy and concentration to do meaningful things that stimulate my mind then how much quality of life is there?
Part of my journey has been to learn as much as I can about my illness and how best to manage it. I now feel I have a reasonable grasp of what I'm up against and have digested the views of many different leading practitioners who have been working with M.E. patients for some time.
The first thing my knowledge has provided is a dose of realism. It's natural that people will tell me I'll get better soon etc. Even I still sometimes refer to myself as being temporarily unwell. But let's be realistic and use real data involving real people. The likelihood of me making a full recovery and being the person I was before I got ill is around 5%. Which of course means there is a 95% chance I won't ever be the old me again. Amongst that 95%, it is roughly split in half between the probability of having periods of remission and relapses (boom and bust in economic terms!) and the probability of getting progressively worse before I stabilise.
Now, I'm not being a doom and gloom merchant here and I'm not giving up all hope of a recovery. Rather, I am merely being realistic in gathering comprehensive data as opposed to anecdotal tales of individual outcomes. So, what about the stories of 'magical' recovery using techniques such as the Lightning Process or other 'mind over matter' approaches?
Undoubtedly the mind is a massively powerful tool and plays a huge part in how we feel physically. I completely accept that. However, if I do indeed have M.E. then there are various things going wrong within my body at a cellular level that positive thought or determination cannot possibly cure. I mentioned in my previous post that the landscape of understanding of M.E. is a rather unruly mess. To expand on that a little, I think I now have a better grasp of why M.E. and CFS should not be used on an interchanging basis.
Chronic fatigue is a symptom rather than a diagnosis. Yes, I have fatigue but it is only one element and probably not even the main one. I have had post-viral fatigue before and I can say with absolute certainty that this is way different. In fact, this all probably started with post-viral fatigue (I was sleeping lots and lots in the early period) but it has developed into something much wider. I'm still not totally convinced that M.E. (as defined by the World Health Organisation) is the correct term for whatever is wrong with me but I must accept that there is currently not an adequate clinical definition at this stage. It is my belief and hope that this will change in the future and that a better understanding of my condition will lead to a more appropriate clinical definition. It's not an easy task as every time I try to pin a description on it I am reminded that I am describing symptoms rather than disease itself.
I am therefore convinced that there needs to be a separation of those who have chronic fatigue syndrom/post-viral syndrome from those who have what we currently know as M.E. in order that clinical diagnostics are more readily definable. It might sound like I'm saying I am more ill than someone with post-viral fatigue syndrome or more deserving of research/sympathy/compassion but that isn't it at all. The waters are murky because a whole load of conditions are being lumped together under the M.E./CFS bracket and that makes the task of classifying, researching and treating the conditions almost impossible.
So, now that I've dipped my toes into these politically charged waters and risked the wrath of those in the community who disagree with me, what next?
Independent research is still the way forward, I feel. I've been able to build up a comprehensive understanding of what different treatment methods are being used in various specialist clinics (not NHS ones, i'll come to that in a minute!) and of the theories surrounding what is going on within my body. I am still of the view that nobody has yet uncovered the full picture and therefore I must approach each theory with a healthy dose of skepticism. However, impressive track records exist in various countries, including my own, in terms of managing similar conditions and I should not ignore that.
I mentioned the NHS. The current NICE guidelines worry me a lot and the more research I do the more I am convinced that I should retain control of my own treatment plan. Graded Exercise Therapy is a key tenet of those guidelines and is something I will be encouraged to partake in. There is overwhelming evidence that suggests to me this increases the likelihood of a severe worsening of the condition and I will be refusing that particular method of treatment.
So, now I've mentioned all that is wrong - what is right? Well, I will make use of this blog to cover in detail the treatments I am going to be relying on. In fact, my next post will begin that process in earnest. I say this with a full understanding that I am merely 'managing' my illness. There is no cure (yet!) but my understanding of what is going wrong within my body, and the clues afforded by various pioneering souls in the medical community, does allow me to make some pragmatic choices about how best to lessen symptoms. That in itself would have a major impact on my daily life. Imagine if I could have a shower without feeling like I'm going to pass out afterwards or walk to the bathroom without feeling like my heart is going to burst out of my chest or without breathing like a breathless old man. Yes indeed, managing symptoms and reducing their severity even a little will benefit me greatly.
Take care,
Barry
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
What Next?
Again, it's a little while since I updated. This time it wasn't just down to feeling crappy, I'm glad to say. I actually had a couple of 'good' days and it was great to be alert and well enough to spend them just chilling out with my girlfriend. She had taken the day off work on Friday to take me for my MRI so we were able to have a pretty relaxing weekend after that, watching movies etc. Of course, I also managed to fit in some footy matches, haha. Unfortunately I'm back to feeling bad again now but I'm grateful for those few days of having a little bit of energy and of my mind being alive again.
The MRI results can apparently take 2 or 3 weeks to be available. Seems an awful long time but I'm assuming they will contact me quicker if there is a tumour the size of a cricket ball in my head! I'm expecting everything to be fine though. Even if I've got something completely unrelated to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/M.E. I very much doubt I have MS or a tumour or anything that will show abnormalities on an MRI scan. The ECG I had on Friday was fine and I was confident it would be. Although my heart-rate is worryingly elevated when I'm walking around, I have had my heart checked a great many times due to developing a heart murmur after childhood meningitis (healthy sort, aren't I?).
Another positive I noticed over the weekend was in my breathing and capacity to stay upright. On the Friday, the short walk from the hospital car park to the relevant department was accompanied by me breathing very heavily. Pretty much like you'd expect an 80 year old to be. My girlfriend said I sounded like a dirty phone call. On the Sunday, the same walk from the same car park was less effort and my breathing was much less of a problem. Again, I'm back to finding the walk up to the bathroom a struggle but those couple of days where breathing was easier were very much appreciated.
One of the key changes I'm trying to implement, hopefully with a degree of success is already, is to accept my limitations and also accept I am very likely battling something that will not be cured by any miracle pill. Although this sounds like resigning myself to being unwell (and the positive thinking brigade sure do hate that!) it actually makes my life more positive in many ways. Rather than researching like crazy every potential cure I can find, I am accepting of being ill and am trying to manage the symptoms and my new lifestyle as best I can. So, whether it be taking a year away from University or admitting that a weekend away with my girlfriend at a riding event is too much for me, accepting the realistic truth allows me to make life easier on myself and not get upset about how life has changed.
This also includes an acceptance of the fact that I need to care for my body as best I can. So, whether it be removing processed foods and artificial ingredients from my diet, looking into a gluten-free lifestyle or supplementing my body with vitamins and minerals, all of these practical changes have the possibility of easing my symptoms somewhat. If this doesn't turn out to be a temporary illness I need to learn to live with it and to give my body every help I can in not falling apart. I stopped comfort-eating last week and that has shown instant results as I lost 3lb. I am by no means starving myself or eating a wholly virtuous diet but stopping myself from grieving with the use of junk food has definitely helped.
So, that's the immediate future for me. Be realistic, look after my body, stop feeling sorry for myself, avoid finding comfort in food.
I also want to post a round-up of some interesting articles I have read lately but this post has already become rather long so I will add a new one later.
Take care,
Barry