
When I think about what a PANS flare looks like, rage episodes, wild involuntary movements, crippling OCD, short-term memory loss, and panic attacks are what normally come to my mind.
When I think about what a PANS flare looks like, rage episodes, wild involuntary movements, crippling OCD, short-term memory loss, and panic attacks are what normally come to my mind.
This Valentine’s Day was my twentieth in a row of being single.
Some of you have noticed my lack of discussion regarding my romance life, and a few have asked whether or not I’ve been able to date while dealing with PANS.
The answer is… It’s complicated.
Yesterday, I humiliated myself in front of the whole class.
Most days now, I feel that I have my mind back—that I can actually think without anxiety and malfunctioning cognitive processes clouding my every thought. But every once in a while, I do something really strange or stupid, and I find myself truly questioning my recovery all over again.
Call me the Grinch, but for people with PANS, the holidays aren’t necessarily “the most wonderful time of the year.” For me, the season brings back painful memories of when I was sicker. Plus, symptoms can be more pronounced when contrasted with holiday activities, family gatherings, and Christmas parties.
With Thanksgiving this week, as I returned home and sat around the table with my family, despite flaring recently, I couldn’t help but be thankful for the progress I’ve made over the last year-and-a-half that allowed me to be at that table—and for the family surrounding me, who helped me get there.
As awful as the latest flare was, now that I’ve switched my antibiotic to Azithromycin and am doing better, I’m all the more grateful for everything I have. It may sound like a cliché, but it’s true that there’s nothing like losing something to make you understand its value…
Last Friday, I would’ve said I was 100% symptom-free. I went the whole day with no tics or OCD symptoms or depression, and most astonishing of all, I could pay attention in class. My mind was the clearest it’d been in years.
But just as I’d put my life back together after the last flare, it suddenly fell apart.
To be faced with PANDAS is to have a lot of debilitating symptoms and feelings all at once that, in essence, make you lose who you are. There is much to say about what it feels like to have PANDAS, but if I had to sum up my experience in one word, I would say…
Terror.
It’s 8 AM on a Saturday, and rather than sleeping in as you might expect for a college student, I’m lacing up my running shoes and getting ready to bolt across town.
However, this weekend, when I opened my blinds, I almost pulled the covers back over me; I saw it was raining with no sign of stopping.
I’d never run in the rain before, and the mere idea of it caused the shivers. I had so much homework, and the only time I had to spare was in the morning. But I love running so much. How could I let a little bad weather keep me from it?
One of the hardest things about PANDAS is that you never know what it’s going to do next. Just as you’ve finally gotten your life back, it can strike again. Or just as you’re sure the fight is hopeless, things might turn a corner. Sometimes, it seems like there’s no rhyme or reason to its course.
Indeed, it wasn’t too long ago that my doctor said I was in remission. My family and I were stunned at the improvements I was making after my tonsillectomy. But this week, the unthinkable has happened: I am, once again, having a flare.
When most people who’ve dealt with PANDAS or PANS think about being out of control, what probably comes to mind are episodes of rage, debilitating OCD, constant tics, and panic attacks. While these things are the most characteristic of the disorder, during the last few weeks, I’ve been finding that sometimes, you can be out-of-control and look totally fine on the outside.