As an adult with a neuroimmune condition that most doctors don’t know how to diagnose, let alone treat, all too often, I’ve felt like there was nothing I could do to change their minds. I would bring papers and mention the many fine hospitals that are researching PANS only to be dismissed and gaslighted. Why? Partly due to arrogance or wanting to maintain the status quo. But these behaviors have their root in the “P” being for pediatric, the fact none of the research studies mention adults, and the lack of enough large-scale studies in general.
Have you ever felt alone and frustrated by how little help is available while you watch your life waste away?
As I opened my eyes to the morning sunlight peeking through my blinds, for a feel blissful seconds, I forgot the many reasons I shouldn’t feel as calm as I did in that moment.But not a minute later, it all came rushing back, and my stomach did a somersault.
It was with a truckload of emotions that I pulled up to my apartment last Monday night, before my eighth semester of college. While being at school means seeing my friends again and keeping busy with interesting things, it also usually means grinding myself into pieces as I try to get all the required work done in the midst of PANS and Lyme. College isn’t easy for anyone, but trying to do it with these chronic illnesses can make it a hundred times worse.
Anorexia nervosa: two words that hold an unspeakable amount of pain and torment; an illness that takes over your mind and ravages your body; a disease that kills 5% of its victims; a nightmare that ruins your life; a condition that might happen to other people, but not to me… Until it did.
During one of my many insomniac nights recently, I found myself watching the second Hunger Games movie, Catching Fire. While I knew this wouldn’t exactly soothe me to sleep, there was one quote in particular that’s haunted me continuously:
Haymitch: No one ever wins the Games… There are survivors. There are no winners.
Okay, I’m keeping it shorter this week, because I’m doing so well that I’ve been extremely busy! As I’ve said in the past, the better I’m doing, the less I tend to post and tweet, because I’m away from the blog living my life.
At 93 pounds, I was so miserable and malnourished that I didn’t even know how ill I was. At the time, when I found myself sitting in an infusion chair receiving my third IVIG, I silently wondered to myself what I was doing there. How could I have PANDAS if I wasn’t “that sick”? Why was I getting such a heavy-handed treatment? But with my weight nearing the so-called “starvation” range, many of my organs weren’t working properly anymore. My psychiatrist warned that I’d be in the hospital soon.