Coffee From A Broken Cup
The fatigue that comes with chronic illness is so much more than just feeling tired or sleep deprived. Continue reading Coffee From A Broken Cup
The Martian Princess Chronicles
A Martian Princess living with the hidden disabilities caused by residing on planet Earth
The fatigue that comes with chronic illness is so much more than just feeling tired or sleep deprived. Continue reading Coffee From A Broken Cup
This is not a rhetorical question. Can somebody please help me to understand how to utilise talking therapies? Because in all truth and honesty they have never made sense or been of any use to me. Continue reading “I Have A Penchant For Rejecting Talking Therapies. How Do I Overcome This?”
Due to some unfortunate experiences over the years I would usually say an emphatic ‘no’ to any medical treatment that that upsets my body’s hormonal balance. But after my last trip to the emergency room, I realised that I had to reconsider my position.
This was not my first dance with the drug PROSTAP, but unlike so many of the other hormonal treatments I’d had in the past, it didn’t exacerbate my symptoms (everything else caused excessive bleeding) or create a slew of hideous side effects (the Mirena Coil issues are a blog post unto themselves). PROSTAP in effect creates a chemical menopause, switching my ovaries off (or turning them down to a point where their effects are negligible) and thus curbing most of the worst symptoms of Endometriosis.
I was still quite reluctant when the idea was originally floated, but it was made quite clear to me that it would be disastrous for my internal organs to continue being bathed in hot, trapped menstrual blood on a regular basis. So even though I was technically being offered a choice between wrecking my internal organs or disrupting my hormones, it was clear that only one option was actually viable. Figuring that perhaps enough time had passed since my last dalliance with this kind of medical intervention, I took the plunge. Continue reading “Animal Magnetism: Ear Acupuncture & A Chemical Menopause”
Having suffered from Endometriosis for far longer than Fibromyalgia, ‘flare-ups’ were something that I really only associated with my deeply damaged reproductive system. They were excruciating and crippling, but also familiar and understood – I knew, for the most part, what to expect and for how long I would be a non-functioning lump of flesh. On the other hand, I would think of Fibromyalgia in terms of good or bad days and (or) weeks, but it never truly occurred to me that I was experiencing mislabelled cluster-eruptions of Fibro-specific symptoms. My almost blissful ignorance finally came to an end a couple of weeks ago. Continue reading “Feeling SO Martian Right Now…”
As I stepped through the double doors that led to the sports hall I knew I was either just about to do something incredibly awesome, or awesomely stupid. After two diagnoses, more hospital visits that I can remember, and a full twelve months worth of distance, I I had decided to return to Roller Derby.
Now, I’m not crazy; I am well acquainted with the sport and know full well that I’d be pushing my luck straight off a cliff if I recklessly attempted to become a player, again. No, this time I planned to step into the oval as a trainee referee. Continue reading “Wheels, Pain & The First Avenger”
I’m going to try really hard not to make this a rant but, be warned, for reasons I am bizarrely unsure of, I am in full Grinch mode this Christmas. It’s either due to the medical treatment I’m currently undergoing, or an unexpected lack of Ice Hockey… Continue reading “3 Tips On How To Treat Your Chronically Ill Guest At Christmas”
Desperation is something that the chronically ill experience on a regular basis. It is often the driving force behind our endless internet searches, our impatience with cloth-eared medical professionals and our, apparently, ‘finicky’ eating. But it is also often what leads us to accept a seemingly pointless, or downright risky, treatment option; even though we know it probably will not provide that fiercely desired light at the end of the tunnel.
Continue reading “It May Not Seem Like It – But This Is Progress”
Fibromyalgia is a bit of a ‘catch all’ diagnosis. It’s often handed down when doctors don’t know (or do not have the incentive to discover) what’s causing the myriad symptoms that the patient is suffering with – and those symptoms are myriad; over 200 at the last count. Because of this complexity, finding the root cause or best treatment for each individual can be akin to searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Add to the mix the fact that Fibromyalgia loves company, and rarely travels without a companion illness, and it becomes clear that medicinal platitudes are rarely going to be helpful; it’s the person that has to be treated, not the illness. This is why some of the best allies are the ones who listen.
Like a lot of people whose disabilities are invisible, casual ableism is not something that sits permanently on my radar: I generally don’t have to think about wheelchair ramps or the absence of verbal prompts on a city bus. What I do have to concerns myself with is someone shaving parmesan onto my gluten free penne at a restaurant (this actually happened) because they don’t realise that what they may see as a dietary choice is really something that is keeping me out of the hospital. So when I first read a rather odd hit piece in a national newspaper last year, rubbishing a device that has huge potential for personalised health care, I didn’t understand at the time that the anger I was feeling towards the author was because she was clearly dismissing the experiences of so many of us whose bodies don’t run ‘like clockwork’. Continue reading “A Mile In Our Shoes”
I’m not writing this for your sympathy: I have no need, or desire, to receive a plethora of ‘get well soon’ messages (not to be ungrateful – it’s just a little beside the point…) I’m writing this for the people who, like myself, cannot use the word ‘allergy’, but know all too well that certain substances are detrimental to their health. I’m also writing this for the people that goad them. The people that claim that an absence of an EpiPen is a sign that we are merely fussy eaters: that the substances we put into our bodies have zero effect on the illnesses we suffer from. The ones who believe that if a reaction isn’t immediate and deadly that the ‘sensitivity’ is fake. This horror show is for you.
WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF THE MENSTRUAL CYCLE ARE CONTAINED IN THIS POST. Continue reading “Bread, Barley and Blood”