Celebrating 3 years of blogging and the beginning of the end of my battle?
Three years ago today, I published my first post on this blog.
At the time, I was in a downwards spiral, falling apart and losing my mind. My doctors were baffled and running out of treatment options, and I was threatening to take my life. But then, my family figured out I had PANDAS/PANS. Thus began a three-year fight to regain everything my illness had so suddenly stolen from me.
What happens when you’re diagnosed with narcolepsy, and every treatment fails?
Three years ago, I wanted nothing more than to be awake.
After a sore throat on my first day of college, I’d become increasingly incapacitated with sleepiness that nothing could relieve. I spent the majority of freshman year asleep, existing in a dream-like state where I never seemed to attain full consciousness. I hoped for a solution to my problem that worked as quickly as it had begun, but nothing prepared me for what my sleep neurologist said instead, on that fateful May afternoon: (more…)
PANS can mean losing your very self… And then trying to get it back in recovery.
The other day, while filling out forms for an appointment, I froze, as I came upon the medical history section. How could I even begin to explain it all? Moreover, how could I fit everything on two little lines?
Being symptom-free was like waking up from a ten-year slumber
Last week, as I climbed into bed and turned out the lights, I experienced something very strange: I realized I was looking forward to my tomorrow. In that moment, it struck me that after ten years of PANS, I couldn’t recall the last time I was truly excited about waking up for another day.
I’m choosing recovery… One day and one meal at a time
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.
Does anyone ever win the PANDAS Games?
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.
Sometimes just when you think it’s hopeless, you get better!
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.
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…)
With this latest relapse, I’ve been living as a ghost in my own life.
In a single day, I went from eagerly and excitedly whittling away at homework for my summer classes, to crying at the thought of writing a single paragraph of a paper. I went from enjoying meals and coffees with my friends, to being terrified of any group of people and not eating lunch at all. I went from being praised at school for contributions I made in my department, to wanting absolutely nothing to do with my chosen field.
2016: The year I’m finally well?
I haven’t had time to write a longer post for a few weeks, but I just wanted to assure you that I haven’t disappeared.
I’ve been away, not because I’m ill, but because I’m well. In fact, I’d say I’m the best I’ve been in the last nine years.
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.
Wellbutrin XL: The Latest Addition to the Daily Pile of Meds & Supplements
As my two-month IVIG follow-up approached, I was sure I would have bad news no matter what. It would be bad news if my doctor decided I needed an invasive plasmapheresis treatment. It would be just as bad if she told me we had to “wait and see” if this second IVIG worked, because certain symptoms were still making me miserable.
Well, I didn’t exactly get either piece of news. We made a plan that involved neither option…
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 signed up to run in my first half-marathon. I was planning to cross the finish line this summer as the ultimate way to overcome PANDAS. I was hoping to be able to say, “Nine months ago, I couldn’t walk, but today, I’m totally healthy and symptom-free!”
But my plans have been ruined, and my dreams have been shattered.
When I underwent high-dose IVIG therapy in August, for the first time since I got sick eight years ago, I was hopeful about making a full recovery. I knew it could take up to a year for me to get completely better, but I didn’t mind. As long as I was getting better, no matter how slowly, I could keep hoping.
But then I stopped getting better.
It’s been over four months since I had IVIG—and six months since the abrupt onset of my tics and other movement problems. On the whole, I’d say I’m much better. I’ve even started tapering off the steroids. The way I put it with my family is that I finally feel like a person again. I’m almost back to where I was before I started flaring two years ago—with the addition of tics, some walking issues, and hypersomnia. It’s not all forward progress, though. It’s really more of a two-steps-forward-one-step back process.
Today is the three month anniversary of my IVIG treatment. It’s hard to believe it’s already been that long, but at the same time, it seems like an eternity ago because the last three months have been such a wild and difficult ride.
So far, the main improvement I’ve seen is with the chorea and tics. I’m starting to have a lot of days where they’re barely noticeable. The chorea is usually just a slight arm or leg jerk here or there—I don’t look like I’m constantly dancing anymore. I can actually sit still!
I’ve ditched the cane!
Last week, I had my worst flare since everything really went downhill in June. I’m happy to say that the flare is gone now (thanks to more Prednisone and maybe the IVIG), but now that I’m coherent again, I thought I’d share what my PANDAS flares can look like. Please bear in mind that every person reacts differently to this disease, though.
IVIG: Intravenous Immunoglobulin from 1000+ donors
So I just got back from IVIG, and it really wasn’t that bad. I did it over two days, with the first day lasting about four hours and the second for six. I still have headaches from it, a bit of nausea, and some fatigue, but I don’t really care, because I feel hopeful that the therapy will give me my life back. These temporary side effects are such a small price to pay for my freedom.
Now, I just have to wait for the positive effects to kick in—and hope and pray that they actually do kick in at all. Apparently, for most people, it takes three to six months to see a big improvement, but sometimes you start feeling better in a couple weeks. It can take up to a year for all the PANS/PANDAS symptoms to disappear completely. Occasionally, IVIG doesn’t work at all. But my nurse said to me, “Don’t worry. If you responded really well to steroids, IVIG is going to work.”
I don’t usually show my emotions much, but I broke down and cried as soon as she said that. Could one IVIG really heal me? Yes, it should. The thought that this eight-year ordeal is going to end and the idea that I will know what it’s like to feel good again—well… It’s overwhelming. But I’m ready for it.