Hey everyone, I hope your Summer is starting well. Here's another update on my recovery. The news is all good.
1. My body is getting steadily stronger. I no longer need a walker. I used a cane for a few days but don't need that either. I now walk normally. Still bump into fire hydrants but that's due to the vision thing.
My legs can now also climb stairs so nobody is safe from a visit. :)
2. During the first two months of my hospital stay I had -- in addition to an autoimmune condition (myasthenia gravis) -- something called "ICU delirium." Extremely potent drugs used to sedate me led my brain to create an alternate reality, a world as real to me as this one is for you. Unfortunately that world was not pleasant: I interpreted ICU medical treatments (I had 9 tubes inserted) as TORTURE by an evil group trying to harm me. I reacted to that baleful threat by ripping IVs out (causing a blood clot in my arm) and fighting male attendants. Ultimately doctors put me in physical restraint and assigned a PCA to watch me 24/7. During one quasi-lucid moment I told Robin I'd forgive her if she let chthonic people kill me.
I mention this ugly episode today to happily report the delusions are gone. I perceive our shared reality the same as you and am back to being the piquant badass I was before. My cognitive ability was tested repeatedly in the hospital; one neurologist said she'd never had anyone score as high (a perfect 100) on their key diagnostic test. Thus, all future expressions coming from me are authentic and not the by-product of hallucinogenic drugs.
3. For the first three months of my hospital stay I had a feeding tube inserted into my belly. It was awful: all nutrition and medicine were delivered through it. (Myasthenia gravis affects swallowing so I couldn't accept anything orally.) I wasn't allowed to eat food during those three months which sucked enormously. You have no idea how important eating is to our emotional health. I watched meal trays get delivered to fellow patients with deep envy. For solace I made lists of ambrosia I wanted to eat in the future. That reminded me of when I was a teenager: I frequently starved myself to qualify for wrestling weight-limit classes. (Everyone wrestled at 10-20 lbs. under their normal weight.)
On May 5th I finally passed the "swallow test" during which you're X-ray-ed swallowing to make sure food goes down the right pipe. Myasthenia gravis was causing me to "aspirate" food into my lungs, a dangerous thing. Yesterday I had the feed-tube removed. Shockingly, during that process I saw the tube is over two feet long. Imagine a tube being pulled out of your belly that's two feet long. A rubber snake was inside me for five months. Geez...
4. Last note: Doctors tried two common medicines on me for myasthenia gravis but both had terrible side-effects. One accelerated my heart so fast it became life-threatening; another caused unstoppable secretions that choked me and prevented sleep. Doctors finally found a treatment that works (Solaris) which is vital because I need treatment for the rest of my life. That third treatment is delivered every two weeks by IV, which can be painful. (I once had five unsuccessful attempts to insert an IV in one hour.)
Good news: There is a new replacement drug for Solaris called Ultomiris. Ultomiris needs to be injected only once every eight weeks. I just qualified for it by taking six vaccines to prevent deadly side-effects.
Ultomiris is advertised on TV dozens of times every day. You see those ads even if you aren't paying attention. Similarly there are ads for other myasthenia gravis meds so, if you listen, you'll hear those words spoken too. Often we don't see/hear things unless we relate to them, like when you buy a Mazda Miata and suddenly see dozens of them on the road.
A big lesson I learned from the first half of this year is the intensity of pain and discomfort people can experience from serious illness. Sympathize with those poor folks -- whom you may join someday -- because their struggle is our struggle. Nobody is immune from disease and none of us should ignore the suffering of others. Appreciate your good health; don't take it for granted; and open your heart to the less fortunate.
Aloha.
Welcome back, piquant badass ❤️
ReplyDeleteThe other month I read a write from a disabled activist, who said something along the lines of "the disabled community is one minority anyone can join, at any time of life." As a carer of someone with long term health issues and my own business with Fate - car crash, mental health, etc - it's easy to see how quickly our luck can change, and why is important to be kind to folk struggling.
I'm sorry to hear you had such a bad run of luck with your health, and the treatment induced hallucinations sound awful, bless you. My late father in law had a spell of those, such were caused by an infection. They were frilly upsetting for him and his partner.
Wishing you a speedy recovery and I hope your able to enjoy food & drink once again.
Thanks, Lynn. As we age the likelihood of us confronting challenges increases every day. Some are almost inevitable.
DeleteYour nightmare hospital stay sounds traumatizing. I'm so very happy to learn that you are starting to feel like you're on the road to becoming a self that you recognize again.
ReplyDeleteDelirium is terrifying and so many people in hospitals experience it.
I can't imagine having a feeding tube for that length of time. It must have felt surreal to have real food in your mouth again.
Having lived through some serious health issues with my husband and some of my own I know how quickly life can turn on a dime. It's important to recognize and appreciate all the things our bodies do for us daily.
Big hugs and continued strength to you my friend.
Suzanne
Thank you, pal. You understand better than most and I appreciate that compassion.
DeleteYour time in hospital, with all the delusions, sounds very scary! I am so glad you were in good hands. It's so very, very true about how we have no understanding about the effect of constant pain until it happens to us. I am so glad your strength is growing, fire-hydrant collisions aside!
ReplyDeleteThe thought of not being able to eat real food is awful. I have a work colleague whose 9 year old son is currently undergoing tests for Crohns and has not been able to eat anything except 3 nutrimilkshakes for 9 weeks. I feel so sorry for him and I know how important food is to you, so I know that must have been an extra factor of sadness in a difficult time of recovery.
Sending you many hugs!
xx
Thanks, Kezzie. I'm grateful for your empathy.
DeleteI'm happy to read that the news is all good, and particularly that you are back to being a piquant badass ;-)
ReplyDeleteYour time in hospital sounds really horrible, particularly those scary delusions and not being able to swallow food.
I don't think we truly appreciate our good healths until we experience serious illness.
Sending you the biggest hug possible! xxx
Thanks, Ann. And you're right: nobody appreciates their health until it gets shaken.
DeleteI am very sorry to hear about this. It shows I haven't visited your blog in a while. I cannot imagine what you have been through, what you describe sounds terrible. I hope soon things improve for you. Take care.
ReplyDeleteThanks, buddy. My blog's been quiet for months so few people knew of my hospitalization. Hope you're well.
DeleteI'm so sorry to hear about your health ordeal. I was recently hospitalized myself and still struggle a bit. Immune illnesses are extremely unpredictable and hard. Take care!
ReplyDeleteThanks, pal. I hope your health improves, too.
DeleteWelcome back, Ally! I think maybe you should add a subtitle to your blog's name: Piquant Badass! That's quite the adventure you had - including being persecuted and tortured by cthlonics!? It's also very scary, and reminds us that our health is very precarious! Big hugs to you!!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sheila. And you're right: we're always on the precipice of trouble. I went to my eye doctor today. He said my eyes are good but when I asked him about his health he got silent. He's wrestling with his own medical issue. None of us escapes trouble.
DeleteSo glad to see more updates from you, even if the content is pretty horrific. I'm so sorry you had to endure all of that, and at the same time, so grateful to see your usual humor and frank assessment of facts back at full force. Disconnection from reality is such a total--excuse my French--mindfuck, and I'm not sure the average person really grasps how destabilizing it can be. That said, I'm not at all surprised to hear of your high cognitive scores once you recovered from the episode :)
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I read the word "Solaris", I knew I recognized it from prescription commercials! I'd never paid them much mind, but apparently I've heard enough for the word to stick.
Also, I want to hear more about your ambrosia list! What's on it, what have you enjoyed so far, what are you looking forward to most??
Thanks for your attention and compassion. You raise two good points.
DeleteFirst, our shared perception of reality isn't universal or absolute. I learned this during a high school field trip to a mental hospital. Seeing patients arrantly detached from shared reality was shocking. They truly were in their OWN world, not ours. I previously didn't know that was possible. From my hospital experience I now know it is.
Second, ambrosia. Big topic, complex answer. The good news is I'm cooking and eating; the bad news is much (about half) of what I put in my mouth tastes bad. It's a side-effect of the Solaris/Ultomiris and mentioned in ads as "bad taste." An unpleasant chemical flavor that overpowers and destroys the natural flavors we expect from certain foods. I can and will describe the undisturbed flavors but in a different place. Thanks again.