Friday, 15 July 2022

How I Caught Covid-19

Well, it finally happened. After two and a half years of trying to avoid it, the ol' Corona Virus finally caught me.

And, would you believe, I got infected the first time I let my guard down, and went without a mask in public?! It's like a storyline from a teen soap opera to scare kids in to being sensible, except it really did happen. 

I came down with cold symptoms two days after I got home from seeing Ronan Keating live in Bournemouth at the end of June. It was my first concert in almost three years, and my first time in a large crowd since before the pandemic. I haven't been anywhere else in ages, so there's no doubt where I caught it. I went in intending to wear a mask to try to stay safe, but it was so hot in the venue that I felt faint, and had to remove it before I'd even made it in to my seat. I felt anxious about it at first, but it felt just like old times, and I soon forgot about it and let myself relax. That was definitely a stupid move on my part, but I only saw a handful of mask-wearers in a crowd of thousands, so I doubt wearing a mask would've made much of a difference, anyway. With everyone singing and screaming along to the show, the virus must've been a thick smog in the air. I didn't get too close to anyone, but there was someone coughing nearby, which I can hear in most of the videos I took of the gig, so I'm totally going to blame that person for going to the gig sick and infecting me. (Although, there were probably loads of people there who were Covid-positive, whether they knew it or not). 

I tried to wear a mask as much as possible for the rest of our trip to Bournemouth, including in taxis and shops, but I also made the mistake of not keeping my mask on on the bus because, again, I was uncomfortably hot from the heatwave. I just popped it on whenever people were boarding or disembarking the bus, so if I didn't catch Covid at the concert, it will have been on the journey there or back.

I feel so stupid for being so complacent because I've been so careful since the pandemic began. I haven't been near people in public without wearing a mask, I regularly anti-bac my hands, and I still disinfect any parcels that come in to the house just to be on the safe side. I've tried to be extra careful to keep my family safe, and because my immune system isn't as strong as it used to be, and what do I do? I undo two and a half years of caution by trying to enjoy one of my favourite pastimes without overheating, and get so distracted by a singing Irish man that I catch it anyway. Oh, well, at least I caught it doing something I love. It was worth it.

We stayed over night and got home the next afternoon. I felt fine at first, but two days later, on the Sunday, I woke up with a sore throat, and a temperature, and started getting the sniffles. I did a test right away, but I didn't test positive until another two days later, five days after the gig. (It's definitely important to keep testing if you get cold symptoms, because it can take five days or more to show).

Fortunately, Covid hasn't been much worse than a bad cold for me, except that most of the symptoms have stayed much longer than with a normal cold. The first couple of days I was positive were awful. I had such a high temperature, I was sweating through my clothes; my whole body felt like it was on fire. I felt fatigued, I got sharp pains in my abdomen (not cramps, stabbing pain), and my whole body ached, with all of my joints and usual pain points hurting much worse than usual. I almost completely lost my voice, I got a terrible dry cough that I just couldn't clear as there was so much mucus on my chest, and my poor nose ran like a tap. There was also a day at the beginning where my breathing was a bit laboured, and I felt like I couldn't breathe properly when I laid down, which was all I wanted to do as I felt like crap. It was like there was a crushing weight pushing my organs in from the sides. Luckily, the laboured breathing only lasted a day, and once my temperature broke and the cough began to loosen, I didn't feel too bad. It didn't linger too long in my head and sinuses the way a cold can, so that made it a lot easier to deal with. It's mostly been a lot of sneezing, a raw throat, and burning up with a temperature, with a dry wheezing cough on and off. In all honesty, I think I've had worse colds, so I've been very lucky.

I began to feel more like myself after a week or so, but the symptoms persisted, and I kept testing positive until day thirteen (day fifteen with symptoms), when I finally tested negative again. I'm still a little wheezy almost three weeks on, and still have a cough, although, it's thankfully not persistent, and mostly just gets irritated when I eat or talk. Hopefully I'll be able to shake it off really soon. I'm so over it now.

I've spent the last three weeks isolating in my bedroom, missing another concert I'd been looking forward to for two and a half years (I'm still devastated), and spending my birthday in bed on my own, in the hopes of not spreading Covid to anyone else. I only left my room to use the bathroom while I had Covid, but despite isolating, wearing a mask, and disinfecting anything I touched, everyone in the house (except the dog) caught it, anyway. My Mum was the first to catch it a few days after I did, but she had been around me before I tested positive. My younger sister got it a few days after that, and my Dad several days later, and while I feel incredibly guilty (and have been blamed daily for them catching it), I refuse to take full responsibility since neither of them stayed away from either myself or my Mum while we were infected. I'm not being blamed for their recklessness. I at least tried to contain it, and even stayed away from Rosie, in case she got sick, too- even when she was breaking my heart scratching at and howling outside my bedroom door, not understanding why I couldn't let her in. 

My family catching Covid has been one of my biggest fears since the pandemic began, particularly because of health conditions and with my parents getting older, but thankfully, nobody's had any complications, and we've all had quite mild cases. Even my Dad, who has chronic asthma, got through it easily. I'm just grateful we caught it now and not two years ago, when the virus was stronger and much more serious. My parents were lucky and were both negative again after just 4-5 days, and are recovering well. My sister still has it, but is definitely doing a lot better.

Miraculously, my other sister, who came with me to the gig, came away unscathed. I was beginning to wonder if she was immune, and was thinking of sacrificing her to Big Pharma as a cure for mankind, but now she and my brother-in-law have got it, too. Though, thankfully I can't be blamed for that; it sounds like she caught it from a colleague at work. 

Covid is definitely rife in the UK again at the moment. So many people are catching it after avoiding it all this time. I don't think there's a lot we can do to avoid it now that so few are wearing masks in public. It's clearly still very contagious, and we're just going to keep catching it like colds and the flu unless masks are made a legal requirement again. (Which I don't see happening). I don't think most people need to fear it anymore, but it's still better to try to keep vulnerable people safe, and avoid getting sick yourself. I'm going to keep wearing masks in public and anti-bac-ing my hands to avoid catching it again too soon, and next time I go to a gig, I'm going to try to keep a mask on. If only to avoid another three weeks of blame from my family. Their scorn was worse than the virus!

If you're going to a gig or a festival this summer, or are going to be in any kind of crowd, I'd definitely advise against going maskless, or you might come home with more than a band t-shirt and a heart full of good memories. Learn from my mistakes!

Have you caught the dreaded Corona Virus yet?

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Wednesday, 8 September 2021

Ten Years With Chronic Pain and Illness


Today is a weird milestone in my life; one I never thought I'd be marking, one I'm not sure how to feel about.

Today, I have officially been living with debilitating chronic pain and illness for ten whole years. (It isn't the beginning of my chronic pain journey- it actually began twenty-three years ago when I was just thirteen... but that's a story for another day).

I honestly can't believe that this milestone is a part of my life. I can't believe I'm sitting here reflecting on a decade of living with life-changing chronic pain and chronic illness. If you'd told me ten years ago that I would still be in severe pain ten years later or how much my health would change my life, I'm not sure I would've believed you. I wouldn't have been able to comprehend it, and if I had, I would probably have just given up the fight there and then. I couldn't imagine lasting another week in pain, let alone another decade, and didn't think I'd have to. Back then, I assumed I'd just injured myself somehow, and thought I'd be as right as rain in a few days if I ignored it, and just kept going. 

Boy, was I wrong!

The pain didn't just continue but grew worse as the days blurred in to weeks, months and years.

Now here I am, a decade later, still in pain and diagnosed with multiple chronic illnesses- Ankylosing Spondylitis, Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Bertolotti's Disease, Degenerative Disc Disease, and Tachycardia, plus a naturally fused spine, and a facet fused to my sacrum. Even though the warning signs were there, I never imagined for a moment how extensive my problems would turn out to be. It didn't even enter my head.

A decade ago, I was just a normal, able-bodied twenty-six-year-old, working as a visual merchandiser in retail, and spending my days off going shopping, to the cinema, and to concerts with friends. I got mild aching pains in my bones and joints (undiagnosed Arthritis), but they hadn't so much as slowed me down since my mid-teens. Then one September morning, I woke up with back pain, and in less than a fortnight, my whole life was turned upside down. Now I'm a disabled and chronically ill thirty-six-year-old with multiple conditions, living mostly housebound, and spending much of my time in bed alone riding out the pain and fatigue, or going to medical appointments. (Can you hear that chorus of tiny violins?!) What a difference a decade makes! It's crazy how quickly your entire life can change beyond recognition. If I had known what was coming, I would have tried to live a much fuller life. (Although, life's too short for the shoulda coulda wouldas).

Still, as it's the anniversary, I can't help thinking about everything I've been through these past ten years.

I'm not going to sugar-coat it; the last ten years have been some of the hardest years of my life- not just physically, mentally, and emotionally, but socially, and financially, too. 

I've spent every waking second in extreme pain, getting very little or no relief from any painkillers or treatments. Pain so bad it makes a broken bone feel like a broken nail, and would reduce burly grown men to tears. Pain in my joints and in my bones and in my muscles and in my skin. Shooting pain, stabbing pain, throbbing pain, radiating pain, aching pain, burning pain, I've experienced it all- and then some. Then there's been painful back spasms, stiff and swollen joints, twitching nerves, muscle aches, debilitating fatigue, persistent tachycardia (which has quite frankly been terrifying), challenging brain fog, and a whole host of delightful symptoms I've had to contend with on a daily or regular basis.

The pain has been so overwhelming that there have been times when I've wanted to not be here at all. Thankfully, those thoughts don't happen often now, but it hasn't always been that easy. The first year was definitely the hardest; I can't think how many times I silently cried myself to sleep during the first six months, just wanting the pain to stop, and to get my old life back. Fortunately, I never gave up, and the days got easier as I got diagnosed, and learnt to navigate life with chronic pain and illness, but it was hard-going for a while.

I had to fight to be believed, diagnosed, and be given the treatment I deserve. For years all I heard was that I was 'too young to be in pain', and I'd be 'fine in a week or two', as I was shooed away with another sick note and another prescription that never touched the pain. It wasn't until I ventured in to private health care three years later that I started to get answers and support. Those early years almost broke me.

I've been x-rayed, scanned, and jabbed with needles. I've tried treatment after treatment, and countless painkillers and anti-inflammatories.

I went through one horrific weekend of withdrawal after an incompetent doctor I went to for help yelled at me and took me off all of my meds cold turkey. I've never been so ill in my life. 

I've ended up in A&E twice with ridiculously fast tachycardia and palpitations, and have had several ECGs.

I had to give up my job in visual merchandising, and my dreams of getting back in to animal care. I was making plans to go back to college to study animal care again when I got ill, which sadly had to go out the window.

I've spent most of the last decade bed ridden or housebound, missing out on new experiences and meeting new people out in the real world because my pain has been so debilitating. Living housebound with chronic illness has been extremely isolating, and while I'm an introvert and enjoy time alone, it's been hard not having regular interactions with people outside my own family. I've lost friends since I've been sick, too, and that hurt a lot. 

I've also had to say goodbye to many of the things I knew and enjoyed in life. I had to mourn the life I knew, and the person that I was, as well as the future I'd hoped to make for myself. I'm not going to lie; this has been hard at times. I've missed out on so much during what could have been some of the best years of my life, and sometimes I can't help feeling left behind because I don't have or haven't experienced many of the things society says I should have by my age. Thankfully, I have learnt to make my peace with that, as well as knowing that my future could be very different to the one I'd imagined, but it's only natural to feel sad about that sometimes.

Fortunately, as a socially-awkward introvert, housebound life hasn't been that hard for me to cope with overall. I like my own company, and I've learnt plenty of ways to fill my time. This blog has been a particularly invaluable coping mechanism, giving me something to throw myself in to, and has always keep me busy. I've also found comfort in reading, crafting, watching movies, hanging out with my dog, and all kinds of little things. I've gotten used to a quieter way of living, and have learnt to appreciate the little things in life, and make the most of every day. When I do get to go out and do something fun, I appreciate it so much more.

The last ten years have also been hard financially. I've had to jump through hoops to prove I'm deserving of financial help, and went through a soul-crushing fifteen months without a penny to live on because the DWP decided being able to go the hospital for medical care meant I wasn't sick enough to need help. (Seriously). Luckily, I appealed, and won my case at court, but the whole experience was a nightmare.

I've been through a hell of a lot in such a short space of time, and sometimes I don't know how I made it through.

This is probably going to make me sound like a self-indulgent twat, so feel free to roll your eyes, but I'm proud of myself for getting through the last ten years. I'm proud of the way I've handled every hurdle, from my life being turned upside down to living in constant pain to dealing with each diagnosis. None of it has been easy, but I've got through every day and every challenge without having a break down or giving up. There have been times when the pain has been so overwhelming I've not wanted to be here, but I've somehow found the strength to keep going, to keep fighting through the pain and the fatigue, the stress and the isolation, and I'm proud of myself for that. 

I know I must be coming across as incredibly negative today, but I don't think about the last ten years in a negative light. I've always just accepted my life for what it is, and tried to make the best of every day. Sure, there have been plenty of awful days, but there have been plenty of positives, too. The journey has taught me so much. I've learnt so much about life, and about myself as I've navigated this unconventional life with chronic illness. I've learnt what I'm capable of, how strong I can be, and just how much I can endure when pushed beyond my limits. I've learnt to appreciate the little things in life, and make the best of every day, with what I have. I no longer take life for granted, like I used to. I know how quickly everything can change and be taken away from you. I'm grateful for everything this experience has taught me, as I wouldn't be the person I am now if I hadn't gone through it all.

I don't know where the future will take me- and I don't really like to think about it, as thinking about the future with chronic illness scares me- but wherever the next ten years lead me, I know I'll get through it. If the last ten years has taught me anything, it's that I'm stronger than I give myself credit for, and if I can get through all that I have, I can get through anything. 

Even though I'm being reflective and letting my feelings out here today, I don't want to focus on the negatives today, nor remember what I've lost or what I've been missing out on. (I wrote this post a few days early to process my feelings ahead of time). I'll of course be acknowledging what this day means and will be giving the last decade some head space, but I'm hoping to make today a positive one so this date isn't just 'The Day My Back Pain Began' or 'The Day My Life Changed Forever.' I'm currently in one of my favourite places enjoying a week's holiday, so I'm hoping to make some nice memories today to cancel out the bad ones. I want today to be a good one. I don't know where the day will take me, but I'm hoping I'll be well enough to take a short day trip or at least go for a walk on the beach. I'm going to eat some good food, breathe in the sea air, let the sea breeze carry away the stress, and relax to the sound of the seagulls. It's going to be a better day than this day was ten years ago, I'll make sure of it. I've not come this far and gone through what I have to let one bad day a decade ago spoil another day of my life.

Life is far too short for that.

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Tuesday, 30 March 2021

My Experience of the Covid-19 Astra Zeneca Vaccine

 

Last Thursday, I finally got my first Covid-19 vaccine!

I'm officially part of the Astra Zeneca club.

I got a phone call from my doctor's surgery about a week earlier asking if I'd booked myself in for the Covid vaccine, but it was news to me. It turns out, they'd been trying to contact me by text for a while, but I never got the messages as my mobile's broken. Luckily, instead of having to make an appointment via text message, the receptionist was able to book me in for an appointment at my local doctor's surgery over the phone. All I had to do was print and fill out some vaccination forms, and take them along to the appointment. Simple as that.

I thought I'd share my experience of getting the Astra Zeneca vaccine with you guys for anyone who might like to know what to expect from the vaccine, and the side effects you might develop afterwards. Of course, the process might differ slightly from place to place, and everyone reacts differently to the vaccine, but it should help you get a feel for it.

So, on Thursday afternoon, I arrived at my local doctor's surgery ten minutes early, along with my younger sister, who was booked in at the same time. We weren't supposed to arrive early, but fortunately, the surgery was quiet, and they were able to see us straight away. 

A woman was waiting at reception, who passed our forms to the receptionists to check, and stuck a green dot sticker on our clothes. She then sent us across to another woman who provided pamphlets on what to expect from the vaccine, including a list of side effects we might experience. Before I even had a chance to glance at them, she told me a doctor was available, and sent me straight on through.

My doctor's surgery had converted their waiting room in to a vaccination point, and had a small set up with a Perspex screen separating the area from reception, but not from each doctor and patient. They merely had a few vaccination points with a doctor or nurse working from a small work space, with a few chairs beside them, and an aisle running in a square in between. I found it surprising that each area wasn't spaced far apart or separated from the others with walls for safety and privacy, but there were only a couple of other patients around (one was my sister), and apart from having to pass right by a lingering man to reach the doctor, it felt safe and relaxed.

I was seen by one of the doctors, who indicated that he was free, and invited me to sit down. He took my forms from me, told me that I would be having the Astra Zeneca vaccine, and asked me if I had any questions. I told him that I didn't, since I already felt well informed, and wasn't concerned about the tiny risk of blood clots recently reported on the news. He took a moment to prepare the needle and syringe while making small talk, warned me that I might feel a small scratch, and injected me in my upper arm. I barely felt a thing- it honestly hurt less than a routine blood test. After it was done, he told me I would need my second vaccine in eleven to twelve weeks time, and gave me a vaccine card, which I have to hold on to until the second appointment. I was then advised not to drive for fifteen minutes, and was free to go. The whole process, from entering the building to leaving, took all of two minutes. It was so easy and efficient, and completely painless.         

For the rest of the day, my arm only had a slight ache around the injection point, and I started to get a mild headache in the back of my head in the evening. I felt hopeful that I'd be one of the lucky ones, and would get off lightly with side-effects.

Who was I kidding? I'm never the lucky one. The next day, I awoke with similar symptoms, but within a few hours, I started to get aches all over, and then developed a temperature, a fever, and dizziness. I felt really fluish by the evening, and kept going from boiling hot to freezing cold. My head was so sore I could hear all the blood rushing around, and I just basically felt horrendous. On top of that, my Fibromyalgia and Arthritis were also flaring, and my lower back felt soooo inflamed I wanted to cry- although, I'm not sure if the vaccine aggravated my chronic pain, or if it was just a coincidence. I personally think it aggravated them.

Luckily, I woke up on Saturday, feeling much better, apart from a slight temperature, which went away a few hours later. By Sunday, all of the symptoms I had experienced had gone away completely, and I was back to my normal state of ill health except for my upper arm which had started to swell. I had hoped it would be better by Monday, but yesterday, the swelling was even worse. My upper arm was swollen up like a tennis ball, and my skin was stretched so tight it hurt. It's definitely gone down a bit over night, but it's still uncomfortable, and feels sore if I move it, touch it, or accidentally lean against something. Fingers crossed it'll be back to normal in a day or two.

It could be much worse, and I think I've gotten off lightly with this vaccine, only having one day of mild flu-like symptoms and a few days with a swollen arm. My Mum was ill for over a week with her first vaccine a few weeks ago. They're perfectly normal side effects in any case, and just show that the vaccine and my body are doing their jobs. I think a day or two of feeling ill is totally worth it to finally have some immunity against Covid-19, and help bring us another step closer in getting this terrible virus under control once and for all. It's a small price to pay if it can help save lives, weaken the virus, and help the world return to normal again. I'd much rather have a day or two of mild flu-like symptoms than have to fight for my life in ICU, hooked up to a ventilator with Covid-19.                                         

If you're still worried about getting the vaccine, don't be. It's so quick and painless. The side effects really aren't that bad, and you might get lucky and not get any at all. My Dad, for example, only got a mild headache. If you've got any concerns about having it, don't listen to the anti-vaxxers; have a chat with your doctor and let them answer any questions you might have. They'll be able to put your mind at ease. My parents, my sisters, my Nana, and an older Auntie have all been vaccinated so far, and we're all doing fine. 

I personally feel relieved to have been given the vaccine, and that several members of my family have had their's, too. It's a relief to have some immunity, and to know that if any of us catch the virus, it should help us survive it. I won't feel relaxed about the virus until we've all had our second jabs, and probably not even then, but it's a good start, and hopefully the beginning of the end of living in fear. It feels like we're one step closer to the end of the pandemic in England, and one step closer to reclaiming normality again. It feels good.

Have you had your first Covid-19 vaccination yet?

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Tuesday, 8 September 2020

Nine Years With Chronic Pain



Today, I have officially been living with chronic pain and illness for nine whole years of my adult life.

One more year, and it will be an entire decade.

How did that happen?

Where did the time go?

One minute I was waking up to back pain as an able-bodied twenty-six year old, and now here I am, nine years later, aged thirty-five, still in pain, and chronically ill with Ankylosing Spondylitis, Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Degenerative Disc Disease, Bertolotti's Disease, and Tachycardia. I'll say it again: how did that happen?

I can still remember that first day as if it were yesterday.

At six am on the 8th of September 2011, I awakened to pain radiating from deep within my lower back. It was faint at first, but it felt different to any pain I'd ever felt before, and I instinctively knew something was wrong. Ironically, I was woken up by my sister who was sick and needed me to take her to A&E, so I did my best to ignore the pain, and took her to the hospital. I continued to ignore the pain in my back for almost two weeks, hoping if I kept working and moving around it would just go away on its own. Instead, it was getting worse day by day, and on the twelfth day, I came home from work after a nine hour shift and collapsed on the kitchen floor. I gave in and phoned the doctor, and while it took years to get diagnosed, from that point, my life was never the same again.

Sometimes it feels like no time at all has passed since those early days, and other times it feels like this has been my life forever. I've become so used to this way of life; living housebound with constant pain and fatigue, taking medication, regular trips to the doctor's, blood tests, treatments, flares, reduced mobility, rarely leaving the house, and needing help from family with every day tasks. It's just as normal to me now as my life before chronic illness was. (Although, if you'd have told me nine years ago that I would still be in pain nine years later and chronically ill with multiple conditions, I never would've believed you. In fact, I would've probably laughed in your face).

I made my peace with the changes to my life a long time ago, but of course, there are still days when I miss my old healthy life, and mourn what I've lost. I was only twenty-six when my life was turned upside down, and sometimes I do mourn all the things I've missed out on during what should've been some of the best years of my life. I'm only human. I had to give up my job and dreams of going back in to animal care. I lost friends when I got sick. I've missed out on travel and meeting new people, getting my own place, and a world of possibility. Sometimes I do feel sad thinking of what I've missed, and I can't help wondering where I'd be now if I hadn't gotten ill.


However, these thoughts only hit me occasionally (albeit, a little more frequently recently after realising how many years have passed) and I try not to think of the changes to my health and life too negatively too often. I shouldn't be thinking of it as a life lost. I'm not dead. Just because my life is different now, doesn't mean it has to be a terrible life. Yes, living with chronic illnesses is challenging every single day, but I have plenty of things in my life to be thankful for, and lots of little things that bring me joy and make my life worth living.

I can't go out all the time and live my life to the full the way I wish I could, so I've learnt to find other ways to fill my time from home, and try to appreciate the little things in life. A good book, nature I can see outside my bedroom window, craft projects, sunny days, cuddles from my dog, good food, new brooches, music, movies... all kinds of little things. It's a different, slower way of living, but it's still a life. And it's the only one I've got.

I'd love to get my old life back, but let's be realistic; it's never going to happen. Most days I can barely even get out of bed for the pain. I won't get better, and will likely only get worse as I age and my conditions degenerate. The old days are gone, and I can only look forward.

I'm never going to be one of those inspirational disabled people who overcome their challenges to climb mountains or sail solo around the world (but let's face, I never did those things before chronic illness, either), but I'm proud of myself for how I've coped every step of the way over the last nine years. They've been the most life-altering and debilitating years of my life. I've been through a lot, life's been hard at times, but I'm still here, still fighting, and making it from one day to the next. I'm proud of myself for never giving up even though at times I may have wanted to when the pain has been unbearable, and yet another doctor wouldn't take my symptoms seriously. I'm proud that I'm stubborn, and don't give up so easily.

I got through the last nine years, I got through another period of chronic pain in my teens, and I know I can get through all the years of chronic pain and illness that might be ahead of me. I just need to take each day one at a time, and keep making the best out of the life I have. 

That's all anybody can do, right?

I can't help but wonder where the next nine years will take me.

It's probably not far, but I'll keep you informed!
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Monday, 9 December 2019

50 Things To Do This Christmas If You Have a Chronic Illness


Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year, but for those of us living with a debilitating chronic illness, it is often also the most challenging and exhausting time of year for us, too.

We suddenly have to find extra (but non-existent) spoons to do all those necessary Christmas tasks like decorating our homes for Christmas, wrapping presents, hosting or visiting family and friends and cooking a feast, while also navigating our usual daily hurdles that already take it out of us. This can leave many of us in too much pain or too exhausted to mobilise and get out and about to enjoy the festivities, which can be so difficult to accept if you love Christmas- especially if you were once able to enjoy the holidays without your body holding you back.

The good news is, there are still plenty of ways you can immerse yourself in the Christmas spirit with a chronic illness, even while resting in bed or on your sofa. You don't have to miss out on all the festive fun just because you can't go out to the Christmas party, enjoy the Christmas markets, or travel to see family. In fact, I've come up with a list of 50 things to do this Christmas for all you spoonies, with everything from making your own Christmas cards to enjoying a Christmas movie marathon to give you a few ideas. Obviously, what you can do will depend on your personal circumstances, as everyone's conditions affect them differently, but I hope there are ideas here to make everyone's December a little more festive. If you don't have a chronic illness or an ongoing illness or injury, don't worry; all of these ideas are suitable for all you able-bodied folks, too.


1. Have at least one Christmas movie marathon. You could also try to watch as many Christmas films as you can before Christmas is over.

2. Read a Christmas novel... or challenge yourself to read a set number of Christmas-themed novels by New Year's. I'd recommend Little Women and A Christmas Carol.

3. Watch festive TV. All those Christmas specials, craft shows, and cookery programmes never fail to get me in the festive spirit.

4. Relax with a Christmas colouring book. There are so many great ones for adults now, like Johanna's Christmas and Christmas to Color. Grab some coloured pencils and a lap tray, and you'll soon feel any stress lifting away as you get stuck in.

5. Sew a Christmas cross stitch or embroidery. I'm currently making this cross stitch from Satsuma Street.

6. Make your own Christmas crackers. I like to make and fill my own every year.

7. Play a board game. You could even play one from your bed, and get someone else to move the pieces for you if you're not up to stretching.

8. Play a festive computer game. I'm currently playing Animal Crossing New Leaf which allows you to collect Christmas furniture and clothes, has festive activities, and has even started to snow! My holly bushes are in bloom, and I've even added a Christmas path to my town. You also get to start making snowmen when the snow blankets the ground for Winter from mid-month! It's really fun and can keep me occupied for hours.

9. Dress in a festive outfit. Nothing makes you feel more festive than wearing your best Christmas jumpers, dresses, and / or jewellery.

10. Dress your pet up for Christmas. You may need to stay in your PJs, but that doesn't mean you can't dress your dog up in a Christmas jumper and a pair of antlers and take a million photos of them looking cute and humiliated.

11. Beat the crowds and do all of your Christmas shopping online from the comfort of your warm, cosy bed or sofa. 

12. Decorate your tree / home / bedroom for Christmas and turn your space in to a Winter Wonderland. If you're not up to decking the halls yourself, enlist someone to do it for you, so you can still enjoy the pretty decorations while you're resting.

13. Enjoy a hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows, at home or at a coffee shop.

14. Bake and decorate Christmas cookies or cupcakes. If you need to skip steps to be able to do this, buy a cake mix or pre-baked dessert to make life easier, and then just decorate them at home.

15. Challenge yourself to wrap your Christmas presents as beautifully and creatively as you can.


16. Write your Christmas cards and letters. Use a lap-tray so you can write them comfortably from your bed or sofa.

17. Have a Christmas pamper night with festive scented beauty products, like face masks and bath bombs. Lush and The Body Shop always do the best festive products at this time of year.

18. If you like to write, why not have a go at writing some Christmas themed creative writing?

19. Make your own Christmas wreath to hang on the door or above the fireplace. You don't have to go down the traditional route and stick to foliage; you could make a Christmas pudding pom pom wreath, or asymmetric floral pom pom wreath.

20. Make some Christmas fabric hoop art. Take some festive fabric, frame them in embroidery hoops, sew up the backs, and hang on the wall. Easy.

21. Knit or crochet something festive. You could make Christmas decorations, garlands, blankets, scarves, even a Christmas jumper for yourself or your dog.

22. Do some festive art or bullet journaling, and get creative with your layouts.

23. If you're artistic, make some festive art.

24. If you can use your hands, why not have a go at some Christmas nail art? You'll find heaps of ideas on Pinterest.

25. Get out your favourite eyeshadows and try creating a killer festive make up look. I'm not talented enough to create a work of art, but I love wearing green on my lids at this time of year with a glittery liner.

26. Create and post lots of Christmas content on your blog.

27. Catch up on Blogmas posts from your favourite blogs.

28. Fill your Instagram account with festive photos.

29. Have fun filling out some festive Insta story templates.

30. If you can spare a few pounds this Christmas, put together a box of gifts for someone in need like the homeless or a child living in poverty. 


31. Learn how to play a piece of Christmas music on an instrument.

32. Make a festive playlist full of your favourite Christmas songs, and listen to it up loud at every opportunity.

33. Sing along to your favourite festive tunes. It never fails to lighten the mood.

34. Forgot the diet, and treat yourself to lots of delicious holiday treats. You deserve it.

35. Invite a friend over for coffee / wine, and Christmas nibbles.

36. Have a festive girls / guys night in, with festive films, tunes, drinks, and food.

37. Enjoy an Advent calendar every day of Advent. A little treat every day could make your days a little brighter.

38. Light an Advent candle or delicious festive-scented candles every night to make those dark December evenings extra cosy.

39. Use Christmas crockery and mugs for all of your December meals, snacks, and beverages. It's the little things in life...

40. If you can mobilise a little and have the energy, you could even have a go at creating a beautiful Christmas tablescape for your Christmas meal.

41. Make a Christmas cake or pudding to impress your guests with this Christmas.

42. Look through old photos taken at Christmas time, and reminisce about Christmases past.

43. Try to recreate an old family photo taken at Christmas time, and give everyone something to laugh and get nostalgic about this Christmas.

44. Have a go at make your own Christmas cards. You'll find everything you'll ever need for card-making in craft shops like Hobbycraft. 

45. Create Elf on a Shelf escapades for your kids- or Instagram account.


46. Blog honestly about life with chronic illness at Christmas. It's not all roses, I can assure you.

47. Put a stocking together for your loved one(s), and fill with the loveliest gifts you can find.

48. Make a garland for the tree or banister. You could string up popcorn and cranberries the old fashioned way, make it out of pom poms, or even crochet one. The possibilities are endless.

49. Create your Christmas list on Pinterest, so if anyone asks you what you want for Christmas, you can point them in the right direction.

50. And if all else fails, wear cosy new Christmas pyjamas all month, so you can feel festive even when you're resting in bed or lying on the sofa struggling through a flare and a nasty bought of fatigue.

And those are 50 things you may be able to do this Christmas if you have a chronic illness.

I hope my list has given you a few ideas, and that you're able to enjoy some of the festivities this Christmas, even if you're too ill to participate in the big things like Christmas parties and travelling to see family.

What Christmas activities do you enjoy despite your chronic illnesses? 

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Monday, 15 January 2018

15 Ways To Beat The Winter Blues

Apparently today is 'Blue Monday'. a day in the middle of January that is supposedly the most depressing day of the year. I don't know if there's any evidence to support that, but ever since Christmas, I haven't been able to shake those soul-crushing Winter Blues, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.

It's the middle of Winter, it's cold, dark, and dreary, Christmas is a distant memory, life has slowed down again, and it's still ages 'til payday. In short, January is the worst. After a month of festive cheer, celebrations, parties, indulging, socialising, and getting showered with presents, it's no wonder January seems so dull and boring in contrast, and so many of us feel the effects of the Winter Blues. January is brutal.

The Winter Blues hits me like clockwork as soon as Christmas is over every year, continuing for most of January and sometimes even 'til Spring. I lose my motivation to do anything, boredom crushes me, I feel suffocated by the darkness, and feel stressed and miserable because I have no money and nothing exciting to look forward to. Sound familiar? Luckily, I've got plenty of coping methods I try to employ to help me beat those pesky blues, and I thought I'd share some of them with you today in case they might be helpful to you or anyone suffering with their mental health at this time of year. Please note, these are by no means official, medically proven ways to treat the blues, SAD or depression, just methods that work for me, and if you're really struggling with your mental health, please talk to your doctor for professional advice. They should be able to help you find the right treatment for you, or refer you to someone that can. At least confide in a friend or loved one, and let them know how you're feeling. Don't suffer in silence; you have nothing to be ashamed of.

If you're interested in reading some tips and ideas from a fellow suffer, then here are my 15 ways to beat the Winter Blues...


1. Plan Something To Look Forward To
Book or plan something to look forward to- a holiday, a concert, a trip to the theatre, a night out with friends... something that will fill you with so much excitement you could burst. It helps to have something exciting to concentrate on and keep going for, especially during the really bleak days.

2. Do What Makes You Happy
Do whatever it is that makes you ridiculously happy, whether that's spending time with your favourite people, watching cat videos in your PJs, going to see your fave bands play live, exploring somewhere new, making things, or going out dancing. Whatever it is that sets your heart on fire, do it!

3. Start A New Project
Start a new project, preferably something that will take a little while to complete, so it can keep you busy and distracted for weeks or months. Crochet a blanket, upcycle a piece of furniture, learn to paint, take up gardening, learn photography, write, start a blog... the possibilities are endless. I find cross-stitching, painting, and creative writing particularly relaxing and therapeutic.

4. Colour Those Blues Away
Pick up a colouring book and colour those winter blues away. There are loads of colouring books for adults now, and trust me, colouring is so therapeutic. It's a great mood-lifter, and should help you to destress, and relax in minutes.

5. Play Some Happy Tunes
Play your favourite happy, uplifting songs up loud. Avoid listening to anything melancholy.

6. Watch Your Favourite Feel Good Movies
Watch your favourite feel good movies with a big bowl of popcorn or your favourite chocolates. It's an instant mood-lifter. Mamma Mia, Julie and Julia, Steel Magnolias and Little Women never fail to make me smile and lighten my mood.

7. Keep Yourself Busy
Try to keep yourself busy. I find boredom only aggravates my SAD, so I like to keep myself as busy as possible to distract myself. I'll usually get crafting, blogging, or writing, but getting lost in my Instagram feed, catching up on some housework, or binge-watching a new TV series works just as well.

8. Hang Out With People You Love
Spend some quality time with the people you love and enjoy being around. Avoid spending time around negative and toxic people that only bring you down. You deserve better than that.

9. Get Washed and Dressed
Get out of your PJs, get showered, put on fresh clean clothes, and spend some time doing your hair, and make up, if you wear it. I don't know about you, but I always feel so much better after a good shower when my hair's all nice and clean, I've changed in to some clean clothes, and put my face on. I feel so much better equipped to face the day.

10. Treat Yourself To A Hair Cut
Get a hair cut. Whether you go for a trim or a whole new look, a good hair cut can be a huge mood-lifter, and give your confidence a boost, too.

11. Eat Well, Drink Plenty Of Water, and Exercise
Eat well, drink plenty of water, and get some exercise to get those endorphins pumping. You don't need to spend hundreds of pounds joining a gym; exercise outside for free! Go for a walk or a run, make use of a skipping rope, dance, take the dog for a walk, or follow an exercise DVD at home.  

12. Get Enough Natural Daylight
Get as much natural day light as possible. Try to get up as close to sunrise as you can so you can get the maximum hours of light available, and make sure you get outside every day for at least 10 minutes to soak up enough Vitamin D.

13. Go For A Walk
Wrap up warm, get outside, and go for a long walk. Breathe in the fresh air, take in the sights and sounds, soak up a little day light, and clear your mind.

14. Avoid New Year Diet and Exercise Talk
Avoid reading fashion and gossip magazines which are filled with diet and exercise talk at this time of year. Reading articles that shame size zero celebrities for gaining three pounds and bombards you with diet tips will only make you feel like crap.

15. Talk To Someone
If you're struggling with your mental health, please don't suffer in silence; talk to someone. Confide in a friend or family member you can trust, and ask your doctor for help. They may be able to offer some treatment to help you or refer you to someone who can. If you can't speak to a loved one or a doctor, there are mental health helplines you can call, which you can find a list of here if you're in the UK. I know it's scary, but there's nothing to be ashamed or afraid of, and you're not alone.

How do you beat the Winter blues?
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Thursday, 27 July 2017

Another Boring Health Update

It's been a few months since I last sat down and wrote an update on everything that's been going on with my health, so I thought it was about time I wrote a fresh post to fill you in.


If you read my last health update in March, you might remember that in February I suddenly began experiencing some pretty intense tachycardia and palpitations that resulted in an emergency visit to A&E for an ECG. I had numerous tests at the hospital and with my GP, but the doctors couldn't find the cause of the problem because all of the other tests came back perfectly healthy, and the only conclusion was that my medication could be to blame. However, weeks after I was taken off the drug, my heart rate wasn't showing any signs of slowing down, so my GP eventually decided to refer me to a cardiologist for further tests, and an expert opinion.

And so I waited.

I eventually got an appointment through for the end of May, three and a half months after the symptoms began, which was a long, worrying wait when your heart is racing continuously, and you have no idea why. I have to admit that the length of time I had to wait scared me to begin with, because not knowing what was going on with my heart, I didn't know if my heart was going to hang in there long enough to get me there. I know that makes me sound over-dramatic, but three and a half months feels like an eternity when an organ you rely on to live is suddenly malfunctioning, and you have no idea why. All I could do was pray my heart kept beating long enough to get me to the appointment.

In the meantime, I had a number of appointments and blood tests with my GP to keep an eye on things. Thankfully, all the tests came back perfectly healthy, apart from my heart rate, and the usual high inflammatory and parathyroid levels which have been abnormal for years.

My GP was eager for me to go back and see my rheumatologist as a few months had passed since I'd last met with him, although I was waiting for the issues with my heart to stop before I continued with his care because it was more than I had strength for, and at the time, travelling was only increasing my heart rate. Of course, not long afterwards I received an appointment slip through the post... three days after the stated appointment date. I still have no idea who made the appointment. My GP didn't know anything about it, but she had contacted the rheumatologist to fill him in on the latest developments with my permission, so perhaps he made it. In the end, I had to rebook an appointment to see him, even though I knew it would be a complete waste of time and money because I couldn't take any new medicines, try any new treatments, or exert myself with exercise until I knew what was going on with my heart. It turns out, I was right; my rheumatologist wasn't willing to proceed with treatment until I'd seen the cardiologist, and we knew what was going on. He wasn't convinced the sulfasalazine tablets were to blame for my increased heart rate and palpitations, but he ran a few tests on me, and took my pulse, which was still beating away at around 120BPM! He was baffled, and curious to know what was going on.

While I was there, he suggested a couple of new anti-inflammatory drugs we could try once the heart issues were resolved as a replacement for the sulfasalazine, and talked about the results of my blood tests. My parathyroid, which is the thyroid which regulates how the body uses and stores calcium in the blood and bones, is still very high, and apparently if the hormone remains high for a long time, it can do so permanently which can lead to all sorts of problems like softening bones and kidney failure. If it remains high much longer, I may have to have surgery to remove the parathyroid glands from my neck, but if it happens, it happens. I'm told it's just a simple procedure so I'm not worried. Whatever I need to do to keep myself in working order. I'd rather go through the surgery than further health issues as a result of doing nothing.

There wasn't a lot else he could do until we knew what was going on with my heart, so we agreed to put care for my chronic illnesses on hold until I'd met with the cardiologist, and left it at that. That was £95 down the drain.

With everything going on with my heart,  my chronic pain and chronic illnesses have had to take a back seat, so I've had very little care, and no scans or treatments so far this year. I've not been making any progress, but as no painkiller or treatment has ever reduced my pain, or improved my mobility, it hasn't had a negative impact or made any difference to my life. I would just like to resume my care with the rheumatologist and spinal surgeon soon to try to find something that might help me improve enough to get some resemblance of a life back.

Between that appointment in April and the appointment with the cardiologist at the end of May, very little happened with my health care, apart from more blood tests to keep an eye on things. My heart continued to race uncontrollably at various speeds, and while now and then it slowed down a little, it's not gone back to normal since it all kicked off in February. There were a number of days when it raced so fast I was on the verge of going back to A&E because it was scaring me so much, but I didn't bother because I knew they wouldn't be able to do anything, and I'd have just been wasting their limited time, and resources. I had and continue to have a lot of sleepless nights because when your heart is beating uncontrollably fast it's not only uncomfortable, but surprisingly difficult to relax, and switch off enough to drift off to dreamland. On the particularly bad nights, the speed of my heart puts me on edge, and every time my eyes grow heavy or I feel my heart slow a little, I jolt awake with a fright, scared I'm about to die instead of go to sleep. It's exhausting.

At the end of May, I finally had my appointment with a cardiologist at the John Radcliffe. First I had to have an ultrasound on my heart, which included scanning my chest and left breast up to and including my neck. It was no big deal at all, except that it was actually quite uncomfortable in places, particularly when she scanned my throat, because they have to press down so hard with the Doppler to get a clear image. I also had another ECG- my heart rate was still around 120BPM- and my blood pressure was taken, which was completely healthy.

After the tests, I had to wait around for a while to see the cardiologist for the results. It turns out my heart is perfectly healthy and functioning at it should- apart from beating much too fast, of course. They don't believe my heart complaints are the result of a heart condition, which was a massive relief to hear, but in another way, it's frustrating because I still don't know what is causing the problem. When I asked the cardiologist if X, Y, and Z could cause tachycardia, he told me it could be caused by pain, stress, medication, anxiety, caffeine, other health conditions, nothing at all, and all sorts of other things, and then kinda rudely implied that he thought I looked like the type of person who would be overly anxious. I have to say, I was really offended because I'd only been in the room about thirty seconds, and had barely had a chance to open my mouth. Yes, I do suffer from anxiety but I wouldn't call myself overly anxious these days, as it's currently well-managed, and affects me more in social situations. I know it's not the reason because I've not been feeling anxious at all lately. I've noticed stress aggravates my symptoms, but I don't believe that's the cause, either. I still think the medication, or the strain of almost six years of constant pain is to blame, but lately I've been wondering if my laptop could be contributing to it because I use it so much when I'm propped up in bed with it sitting against my legs and stomach. Although, it was still racing like crazy when I was in Cornwall and away from technology for a week, so who knows. Perhaps I'll never get to the bottom of it.

The cardiologist suggested prescribing me some beta blockers to help slow down my heart a little, but advised that they have a tendency to cause extreme fatigue, which isn't what you need more of when you're living with fibromyalgia!

I finally began taking the beta blockers a couple of weeks ago. Unfortunately, all they did was increase my heart rate further, give me palpitations, and make me ill, so I had to stop taking them. I still need to speak to my GP about it, and find out if there's an alternative I can try, but I don't want to continue taking them.

I also recently went for an ultrasound on my ovaries to investigate the pain I was getting in my ovaries, groin, and abdomen at the same time my heart first began to race. I don't know if it was connected, but it seemed important to find out in case something in that region could be the cause. I noticed the pain was returning in monthly intervals and seemed to be be coming from the area around my reproductive organs, so I brought it up with the doctor, who wanted me to get an ultrasound to see what was going on. The scan was more to find out if I have PCOS, which I've always been pretty certain I have because I've never functioned normally, and it runs in my family, but I had never talked to a doctor about it. To be honest, it's never bothered me and I don't particularly want kids, so I never felt the need to. I'm still waiting for the results, but it'll be interesting to find out if anything is going on there, and if the results could give a reason for my heart issues. 

Everything seems to be a bit faulty with my body these days. I think I need to go in for repairs or a full body transplant! Haha!


So, it's been an eventful few months, and a lot has been happening, but it could've been a lot worse. My heart is still racing away five months down the line, and I still have no idea why, but the main thing is I'm still alive and fighting, and getting by just fine. I'm not giving up just yet! The grim reaper will have to try harder than that if he wants to catch me!

Well, that's me... how have you been?
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Wednesday, 8 March 2017

Health Update | One Racing Heart and Two ECGs


I'm sorry it's been so quiet on the blog these past couple of weeks. I've been having a crazy, eventful and pretty scary time with my health lately, this time with my heart deciding to join the bandwagon of body part trolls that are committed to making my life insufferable. It's been so bad I ended up in A&E the Sunday before last, and found myself going through two ECGs in one week. To be honest, those weren't even the worst parts.

To explain, I guess I'm going to have to rewind a few weeks...

This is going to be one of those posts where I ramble and just let my thoughts and feelings spill out on to the page like a diary entry, because I think it's the only way I can explain properly, make sense of it all, and hopefully clear my mind of the stress in the process. It's probably going to be a bit of a long one, and I'm sorry if a lot of it doesn't make much sense.

About three weeks ago, I began getting some really weird symptoms. I had intense abdominal pain for a few days that was so painful I genuinely thought something had or was about to rupture, which then faded and gave way to excruciating, electric, nerve pain (like horrendously painful pins and needles) in my torso, arms, back, and spine. I was also getting numbness in places, and tender pain in parts of my spine that don't usually cause me too much grief, and all the while I was shaking constantly from head to toe, like my whole body had gone in to shock or I'd spent too long listening to Trump being a racist, sexist, self-obsessed dick. 

The problem was, I wasn't sure whether something new had happened, like a trapped nerve or another slipped disc, I'd caught a bug, or I was just having a particularly nasty flare up from one of my conditions, so I decided to hold off on going to the doctors, hoping it would magically improve on it's own in a couple of days. In my gut, I knew something wasn't quite right, but I didn't want to waste their time and I was even less eager to go in case it resulted in another scan (major claustrophobe right here) or getting hospitalised, if it did turn out to be serious, so I took my chances.

By the Saturday before last (18th Feb), the nerve pain had died down, but the shaking was only getting faster, and it was driving me crazy. Trembling constantly gets pretty irritating after a while. At 11pm or 12am that night, the shaking grew even faster and my heart began racing like crazy along with it. It was thumping so fast I thought my heart was going to explode. I tried everything I could think of to keep myself calm,and relaxed- deep breaths, concentrating on the TV, listening to some comforting music, reading... but nothing made a difference and it just wouldn't slow down. I couldn't relax, so I ended up being awake all night, too scared to sleep, thinking my heart was going to quit on me. I eventually drifted off around 6 or 7AM for two hours, but by 9AM I was awake again for the day, well and truly exhausted.

On the Sunday morning (19th Feb), the shakiness had climbed to a whole new level, and my heart was still beating furiously, so I was beginning to worry that something serious was going on with me. I decided to tell my Mum what was going on around midday, but I didn't know what to do- whether to go to A&E, wait to call the doctor the next morning, or do nothing and try to ride it out. I mulled it over and did my best to make myself as comfortable as I could curled up in bed, trying to distract myself with the TV and my cross stitch, but that didn't work at all. My heart rate was freaking me out so much it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.

After taking my second dose of medication for the day, around 3pm, my heart suddenly began beating uncontrollably, to the point I was struggling to catch my breath, and it just kept getting worse and worse. I was really starting to get scared by this point, so I knew it was time to see a doctor. I was adamant I didn't want anyone to call for an ambulance because I didn't want to take one away from someone who needed it more, when I was probably just making a mountain out of a mole hill. My Mum was panicking, so my sister, Marie, who used to be a nurse, came round, took charge and after feeling my pulse and being able to see my heart beating through my skin, phoned 111. After answering a million questions, about my symptoms and my health, he encouraged me to go straight to A&E, so I quickly chucked on some clothes, and found myself stressing about going out in public with no bra and dirty, tangled hair I'd not been well enough to wash in over a week more than my heart rate. I have my priorities down!

Marie drove me to A&E, and during the journey, it quickly got a lot worse. My heart was racing uncontrollably, and I began to get pain and tightness in my chest, made worse by every little bump in the road. By the time we got to the hospital in Oxford about 25 minutes later (I live out in the sticks), it was so tight and painful I felt horrendous, and was struggling to put one foot in front of the other to walk from the car in to the hospital. Marie wanted to go get me a wheelchair but I asked her not to because I was a little scared (by my heart, not of the hospital) and didn't want to be on my own feeling like that in a dark, quiet car park. Thankfully, a kind paramedic in the ambulance bay let us walk in through the ambulance entrance to A&E because I don't think I would have made it all the way through to the public entrance- it was quite a trek.

I somehow made it to the waiting room, and in to a chair, and Marie had to leave me on my own for a bit to check me in at reception. I honestly think that was the worst part of the whole ordeal for me that day because, although there were only about half a dozen people in the queue, there was only one person working on reception and the queue just wasn't moving. According to Marie, the woman was working at a snail's pace. She must have been waiting a good ten or fifteen minutes to be seen, but to me it felt like an eternity. I was feeling absolutely atrocious by this point, like I had the flu on top of the agonising chest pain that felt like my heart was being constricted within an inch of its life, I didn't think I was having a heart attack before I reached that waiting room, but I sure thought I was about to have one while I was sitting there alone.

Thankfully, once Marie had checked in, I only had to wait a few minutes before I was seen by a really friendly (possibly South American or Spanish) male nurse. I guess it was lucky that it was a Sunday night, and one of the quieter times of the week. It wasn't deserted, and there were dozens of patients, but it was far quieter than I'd expected the John Radcliffe A&E to be, even on a Sunday night. He really helped to put me at ease so from that point I was completely calm and stopped worrying because I felt like I was in good hands. He took all my medical info, along with my blood pressure (which I think got up to 150/110), temperature, and blood oxygen levels (both perfectly healthy), plus a bunch of other stats, and then directed me to a small waiting room within A&E where Marie and I waited until I was collected by a doctor a short while later.

I had two young doctors working on me at the same time, a man and a woman, neither were particularly chatty, but they did a good job of looking after me, and trying to work out what was going on through tests and asking loads of questions. I had some blood tests done, which ended up taking a while because they had difficulty finding a vein and drawing blood, and then was fitted with a cannula. Then after taking some stats, I was moved in to a cubicle, got hooked up to some monitors for a couple of hours, had various tests done, and had my very first ECG.

I was completely relaxed and unfazed, lying on the hospital bed having all these tests, but my heart rate was, unbelievably, racing away at up to 160BPM!! I don't know what it is usually, but I think it's in the region of around 70-75. I may be fat and chronically ill, but I've always had a really healthy heart rate for my size, even when exercising. It's never climbed even close to as high before, and I've never had any heart problems before, either. After a while it was still fluctuating between 127-140BPM, but it was beating steadily and consistently, apart from the occasional nerve twitch, and the doctors were scratching their heads because apart from my heart rate and blood pressure being a little high, all of the tests came back perfectly healthy. It was a relief to know I wasn't having a heart attack, but it still didn't explain why my heart was racing like crazy. I did tell the doctor that I had recently had my sulfasalazine dosage increased, but he didn't think anything of that, and after waiting around for the results of my blood tests for an hour or so, his best guess was I was probably just suffering from dehydration- although, I wasn't convinced that was all it was. He felt confident enough to discharge me by about half ten, so we made our way home again back to the sticks.

During the journey my heart rate got a little faster again, but I was hopeful I'd feel better in a day or two and just had to ride it out. Once I got home, I got some fluids in to me, managed to eat half a sandwich, as I'd eaten nothing all day, and took my painkillers, leaving out the sulfasalazine as I felt like I would vomit if I took another mouthful of water in order to swallow it. I crawled in to bed absolutely exhausted, and in agony, and thankfully, managed to fall asleep around 2AM.

The next morning (Feb 20th), I was feeling a little better, and my heart rate had slowed down a bit overnight, which was an encouraging step in the right direction. At 3PM, it began getting faster again, and after taking my last dose of medication for the day, at 12:20AM that night / Tuesday morning, it suddenly pounded to life once more, hammering away uncontrollably beneath my skin like a drummer on seventy-six cans of Red Bull beating the shit out of a drum kit. I automatically realised that my heart rate had noticeably increased after taking my medication that day, the afternoon before, and on Saturday night, and only during the doses that included my anti inflammatory drug, sulfasalazine. When I thought back, I was able to work out the shakiness and unusual symptoms had started around the time I'd had the dosage increased from three to four tablets a day. I Googled the known side effects of the drug to see if any of them matched up and whether I could be right... fast heart beat, chest pain, difficulty breathing, dizziness, abdominal pain possibly radiating to the back, gastric upset, bluish skin... so many of them fit. I was pretty certain I'd found the culprit, but that didn't stop me from spending another night being extremely panicky and struggling to remain calm. I couldn't catch my breath again, and I was so freaked out by the speed my heart was thundering I didn't fall asleep until dawn.


From early Tuesday morning (Feb 21st) and throughout Tuesday, my heart rate felt like it was speeding even faster than it was on the night I ended up in A&E, and I completely admit I was terrified. I hadn't taken any more of the tablets, but it wasn't slowing down, and it just felt like it was out of control. I couldn't calm myself down, I couldn't catch my breath, and my chest felt so tight, I was having difficulty breathing and speaking. I was so freaked out and unwell, I was in tears. I didn't see the point in going back to A&E after all of those tests had shown I was otherwise healthy, but we phoned my GP for advice mid-afternoon. She wasn't able to phone me back until 6:30PM, by which time the surgery was closed for the night, but she was pretty shocked to hear of what was and had been happening. She put me on hold while she looked up the reports from the hospital, and in to the side effects of sulfasalazine, and although she couldn't find increased heart rate listed in whatever literature she referred to, she agreed it probably was the cause, and not to take any again. She was quite concerned, so she booked me in to have another ECG at the doctors surgery the next morning, and to see her afterwards, but told me I was to go back to the hospital for help if I got worse at any stage beforehand.

So, I went in for my second ever ECG at midday the next day with a nurse at the practise, and was surprised that this time it only took five minutes. I'd fully expected to be there for at least an hour. My heart rate had slowed down considerably since the day before, but it was still very high, going at 117BPM- four and a half days after it first started racing. I think it climbed to around 180 BPM the night before, as I was averaging three beats a second, but I can't be certain because my medical knowledge is limited to two years of animal care, common sense, and episodes of Grey's Anatomy.

My GP saw me a little later and I have to say, she was very thorough, running all sorts of tests on me, to the point she even measured and compared the circumference of my calves. I'm still not sure why that was or what it had to do with my heart rate, but they didn't appear to be a problem. She was very concerned about my heart rate, but utterly bewildered because, by all accounts, everything was healthy and normal apart from my heart rate. She still wasn't entirely certain it was all caused by the sulfasalazine, but after hearing my evidence, it was the only conclusion she was able to make there and then. I was advised not to take them again, and asked to cut my amitriptyline dosage in half as apparently that can also increase the heart rate. I've been on that drug for over five years and nobody has ever told me that. She took more bloods before I left, and arranged for me to see her again the following Monday, but told me to contact her or go back to A&E if certain symptoms got worse at any point in the following days.

Over the following days, my heart continued to race with eagerness at various speeds, and I was basically on edge the entire time, freaking out whenever it sped up, slowed down, continued racing, or morphed in to palpitations. Basically every waking second. It probably sounds like I was being ridiculous and over-dramatic, but I kept worrying it was either going to turn in to a heart attack, or suddenly stop beating, exhausted and damaged from racing continuously for so long, because surely hearts can only withstand so much. It was really frightening. I found myself crawling down the stairs on a number of occasions when I could barely even stand because of my chronic pain, out of fear of being alone in my room feeling so on edge, in need of people to distract me from focusing on it.

On one particularly bad evening, Rosie, my dog, laid herself over my legs on the sofa, and wouldn't leave me, and kept watching me with this really concerned, fearful look in her eyes that I've never seen her make before. She even got up and put her foot on my heart a couple of times. Call me crazy, but I honestly think she knew I was ill and was trying to look after me.

By last weekend (25th-26th Feb), it finally felt like my heart was slowing down, and perhaps I was beginning to recover, except for the fact I now had palpitations, and my heart beat was fluttering every five or six seconds. It got a little faster again on the Sunday night, and kept me awake, so I was only able to catch two hours sleep before I was up for my doctor's appointment first thing last Monday morning (27th Feb).

At the doctor's surgery once more, my heart rate was fast again, and my GP was concerned that it still wasn't back to normal over a week since it had first began to race and I'd stopped taking the drug. (Although, it could have been racing because I had a pounding headache and every little sound in the noisy waiting room had been torture. My head hasn't stopped pounding in a fortnight). My blood tests had come back clear- my kidneys were healthy, my white blood count was normal... everything except my inflammation levels were perfectly fine, but we already know they're warped. She suggested that I should meet with a cardiologist for a 24 hour map of my heart (I think it was called a holtor test- like an ECG, but for an entire 24 hours) to get a more in depth look at how my heart is functioning, and hopefully get to the bottom of all of this, if the medication isn't the cause. I think it's a sensible idea at this stage, so I'm now waiting to hear back with an appointment.

She also pitched the idea about weaning me of my Amitriptyline and Tramadol painkillers, because apparently they can also speed up the heart. I had to be honest with her, and told her I'm barely coping with my chronic pain as it and I'm in so much pain 24/7 that I'm bed ridden most of the time and can't even look after myself properly, needing help from my family for a lot of things. I know I would not be able to function at all if she took me off both of them and left me with just paracetamol and vitamin D! I've experienced it before- an absolute twat of a doctor took me off all my meds cold turkey about four years ago, and I went through horrific withdrawal symptoms for three days because of his actions. I was in so much pain I was writhing in agony and couldn't even lie in one spot for more than ten seconds; it was agony and I've never been so sick or in so much pain in my life. I still get a little distressed when I think back to it, and I just can't go through that again. I agreed to cut my Amitriptyline down even further from 100mg to 25mg, but for now we're leaving the Tramadol as it is. Of course, if it does turn out something serious is going on with my heart, it's something I will have to consider, but I personally don't think it's currently causing me any of the problems.

When I got home, I got to thinking that perhaps it wasn't just the sulfasalazine causing the problem, but that it was still continuing because I had cut caffeine out of my diet since the night in A&E, to avoid aggravating my heart rate further, and that I could in fact be experiencing withdrawal symptoms from caffeine, alongside a reaction to the drug.

Here's where I admit I've had a pretty bad addiction to cola since I was about fifteen or sixteen, and have barely gone a day without at least one can of coke since the turn of the millennium. I'm now thirty-one. I'm not proud of it. I've completely wrecked my teeth, and I know it's extremely unhealthy to consume regularly, but I've never managed to kick the habit. I've tried, but never succeeded for more than a few days. I've been drinking maybe two or three cans a day in recent years, but since that night in the hospital, I've only drank one can altogether. It may or may not have been what started up my heart in the first place, but I'm becoming more and more certain that it's the reason why it's continued for so long: I've probably been experiencing withdrawal from caffeine these past two weeks! After doing a lot of Googling on caffeine withdrawal, the symptoms seem to fit, and I think I've found my answer. I queried this last night with my GP when she phoned to check how I was getting on, and she agreed it was highly likely to be what was going on. I'd had a bad reaction to sulfasalazine and aggravated it with caffeine withdrawal.

Let's just say, I'm not in a hurry to drink caffeine again any time soon.

My heart continued to race and flutter throughout last week, and at times I felt extremely unwell, but by Thursday, it finally began to slow down, and I started to feel more like myself again, with my chronic pain taking the lead once more. I still have palpitations and irregularities and it hasn't quite returned to a normal speed or rhythm just yet- and it picked up speed again over night and it's racing again now- but I'm hopeful I'm on the road to recovery now. I feel so much better this week, and can't wait for life to get back to normal. I guess time will tell if my medication and the caffeine were to blame, or if something more serious is underlying with my heart, but fingers crossed it's the former and I never have to go through something like this again. I can honestly say I've never been more scared in my life than I have been these past three weeks. I've been frightened and on edge the entire time and aware of every single beat thumping and fluttering under my skin. As much as I've tried, it's been near impossible to switch off and relax, and far too easy to focus on my own mortality. Give me chronic pain any day; it's much easier to live with.

I did attempt to blog a few times during all the craziness, but I found that trying to curate a blog post was too stressful and was increasing my heart rate, so I decided it was best to take a break from blogging until I was through the worst of it.  I couldn't even turn on my laptop much because I felt nauseated just looking at the screen. I'm sorry I went AWOL for a while, but now I'm finally feeling more like myself again, I'm hoping I'll be able to get back in to the swing of things, and start bringing you lots of exciting new content again. I have so much I want to blog about, but I think I'll just have to take it one day at a time and ease myself back in gently while I recover. One day at a time...

If you made it through to the end, thanks for reading, and listening to my boring rambles. I hope I've not sent you to sleep! I promise there'll be some more exciting posts on the blog soon!

Have you ever had a bad reaction to your medication, caffeine withdrawal, or problems with your heart?
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