I pretty much take an entire pharmacy every day
On Thursday morning, I woke up and immediately knew something was very wrong. My whole body ached. I had an awful headache. I was dizzy. I was too nauseous to even think about food or water. It was that familiar set of symptoms that meant one thing: I was in for a terrible Lyme herx.
2 antibiotics, 3 other meds, and 8 supplements: my weapons of choice against Lyme
“It’s Lyme disease.”
They were three words that shattered all of my expectations for recovery from PANS… Three words that I still struggle to accept… Three words that are going to change my life…
Could IVIG #3 be the end of PANS for me?
Today, just two weeks after my third IVIG, I’m happy to say I’ve made tremendous progress. I’m no longer afraid of food and calories, so I’ve probably gained back about half of the weight I lost. I’ve gotten strong enough to run (slowly). My POTS symptoms are basically gone, and my parents have told me that there’s life in my eyes again. Oh, and I’ve even finished all of the summer coursework for the classes I had to take incompletes in—including a twelve-page research paper!
So am I better now? Is life perfectly peachy now that I’ve had IVIG? (more…)
My body is cooking up trouble with POTS and PANS
“You’re going to hate me when I tell you this,” my cardiologist said this week.
I braced myself to be told my heart was damaged from Rheumatic Fever—or to be told my symptoms were all in my head, as so many doctors had said over the years…
Sometimes, you have to try a few antibiotics for PANS before you find the right one.
Since being diagnosed with PANS, I’ve been on antibiotics for twenty months straight, save for one two-week break. I’ll continue until six months after my last symptom, or at the very least, through my senior year of college.
As I made my way through the halls to my neurologist’s office last May, I stopped in my tracks as I saw a face I recognized. She was receiving IVIG and roaming the halls hooked up to an IV bag pole, accompanied by her mother and a nurse. She was exhausted. There was no light in her eyes. She had a sense of burden and deep sadness about her that penetrated to the depths of her soul.
Once you’ve seen the face of a child with PANDAS, you can never forget it.
There are some things doctors don’t tell you about recovery…
Last week, I celebrated the one-year mark since my first IVIG. It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year, yet my recovery has seemed to go so much slower than I thought it would.
There are many things that no one ever told me before my first IVIG. I was warned about the fatigue and nausea and headaches afterward and the post-IVIG flare that would come in a few weeks. I was even warned it could take a year before all my symptoms went away, but I was never told what that year might be like.
Everything is different now, like a new day
Those are two words I never thought I’d hear from my doctor. But this week, I finally did.
As my mom and I made the trip to my doctor’s office this week, I couldn’t help but feel that things were different this time—and most of all, that I was different. I was more present. I was more aware. I was bright-eyed again. I was finally myself.
This time, unlike my last visit in May, I opened the office doors myself, grabbing the handles without flinching. I pushed the elevator buttons. I sat in the waiting room chairs without thinking about Lysoling myself when I got home. I realized that contamination OCD was finally letting me go.
My breakfast, lunch, and dinner!
When I first found out that I needed a tonsillectomy, I made three appointments with three different doctors at two hospitals. While this may sound excessive, based on past experiences, I knew the first doctor or two might refuse to do the surgery as soon as I mentioned PANDAS, especially since my tonsils looked healthy on the outside.
Indeed, when my records were sent to the first doctor, my appointment was cancelled within two hours and my case passed to a different doctor in the practice.
This week, I have wonderful news… Instead of moving home for the summer like I’d planned, I’ve decided to remain at school to take classes and work.
While this may sound like a “normal” summer for an almost-20-year-old, for me, it’s a huge victory. Not too long ago, I hated everything and wanted nothing more than to go home and spend my summer lying on the couch or in bed (just like last summer). But now, I want to keep pursuing my dreams in this city—dreams that I’d pushed to the back burner for far too long because of my illness.
This week, I finally hit the post-IVIG flare that we were all dreading. Thanks to a six-day burst of high-dose Prednisone, I’ve come out of it now, but I hope I don’t have to go through that ever again. Unfortunately, I probably will.
Until my most recent IVIG, my flares were getting worse and worse. One night a few weeks ago, I found myself spacing out at the kitchen table for about two hours, unable to make myself get up, because I had too many OCD compulsions. When I realized I’d been doing nothing for two hours and thought about how hard it would be to do anything with the burden of OCD, I just lost it—I spent twenty minutes walking around my apartment screaming and hitting the walls.
I just finished my second, and hopefully last, IVIG treatment!
Recently, I’d been feeling like I’d made no progress with any of my symptoms after my first IVIG. But strangely, it was the process of going back for another IVIG that showed me this was simply untrue.
When I had the first IVIG in August, if I got out of the chair to stand up and stretch my legs, I started doing a wild choreiform movement dance. I couldn’t even look at my doctor to talk to her because I was moving so much. I had to hold onto the IV bag pole to keep from falling down when I tried to walk down the hall to the bathroom.
This time, I hardly had any movements, and the ones I did have were barely noticeable to anyone besides me—except for when I took one spill in the hallway… (more…)
As spring break approached, I did everything I could to avoid answering that dreaded question: “What are you doing over break?”
“Oh, I’m just taking a short trip to the city and then going home and resting,” I told most people.
But the whole truth is that I’ll be sitting in my doctor’s office for two days hooked up to an IV to get a bunch of people’s antibodies poured into my body. The truth is that I desperately need this treatment so that my own bad antibodies will stop attacking my brain. The truth is that I’m going for my second round of IVIG to hopefully wipe out this disease once and for all.
Recently, I had the misfortune of losing my wallet. Anyone would be upset and worried about losing something that contained your credit and ATM cards, driver’s license, school ID, cash, car keys, and apartment keys. But I had another concern: as soon as you open my wallet, you can see a medical information card that gives away all kinds of personal health information.
If I were ever in an accident or had another emergency, it’s a good thing that this information is so easily accessible. But in this case, I couldn’t help but wonder who was going to read it. There’s no way whoever found my wallet wouldn’t see it. I had managed to keep my illness a complete secret from everyone but my close friends and professors, because I didn’t want to be treated differently. Would this be the day that everyone found out?
So I went to see a PANDAS specialist this week, and I’ve finally been diagnosed with PANDAS. My doctor was wonderful and finally took my symptoms seriously. She even said my mysterious illness from 2006-2007 may have been Rheumatic Fever. And unfortunately, she told me I’m not just having tics, but also chorea, which could explain my strange falls when I walk. The best words my doctor said were, “You’re going to get better.”
This week, I’m going to be seeing three neurologists including one PANDAS specialist. As you can imagine, I’m very nervous but also excited about the possibility of figuring out what has gone on with me for the past eight years. In order to prepare for the appointments, I’ve been trying to get my hands on my own medical records for awhile—with little success. Forgive me, because I need to vent… (more…)
I’m no doctor, but recent developments have shown I almost certainly have PANDAS or PANS.
A standard way to see if symptoms are autoimmune-related is to do a steroid burst for five days. The theory is that if inflammation is the culprit, the symptoms will improve with the steroids. (more…)