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Category Archives: EDS

  1. Online shopping and planning for a birthday.

    It’s Amy’s birthday in a few days and I’ve been slowly buying her presents online.

    Of course, that isn’t going to stop the mad dash the day before, braving Father’s Day sales and actual people to pick up the last few bits and pieces, plus food.

    It’s insanity, I swear.

    The problem with online buying is despite knowing when things are meant to ship, you’re never really certain when they’re going to show up. So it’s a bit of a lucky dip.

    Not to mention the excitement when the postman shows up and then the heartbreak when I won’t let her open the parcels RIGHT THEN.

    Anyway, online shopping. I think it’s saving my sanity.

    I am no good with shopping centres, with crowds, with one child tugging me in one direction while the other wails that we’re not going towards that THING. What thing? THAT THING ARRGGGGGHHHHHH.

    Plus, my lovely EDSy issues mean I’m easily exhausted. And really, I’d prefer to use my precious energy on fun things, like the park, not stressful things like hunting down presents.

    So, online shopping.

    The only problem seems to be, department stores that do online ordering seem to have a teensy weensy selection.

    Sigh.

    It doesn’t really matter, as this birthday I’m operating on a less-is-more principle. Less presents, better quality, good food and people who love her.

    Surely I can’t go wrong with that?

    Excuse me while I go write a hundred more lists and work out what food we’re eating.

    Posted in Amy, EDS.

  2. Kidspot’s Top 50 – Blog your way to Dunk Island.

    I’ve not had a major holiday in a long time. Never since I’ve been with Nathan and certainly not since our children came along. In fact, the thought of a holiday, while sending me giddy with excitement, also freaks me out a little bit because wow, have you met my daughter? She’s a bit challenging. So we’ve never had a family holiday, which is a shame. I’m sure we’re missing out on something.

    The last holiday I had, I was 13. I saved up for my plane fares and I went to Adelaide with my grandmother for Easter, and she was, obviously, still alive then. We had a brilliant time working out bus routes into the city and shopping and exploring Adelaide. Oh my word, the shopping. That woman was fun to shop with. We ate sushi for the first time (we were hooked) and it was a blast.

    But you know, I was 13 and my Nan wasn’t dead, so I may have my rose coloured glasses on a little here.

    Anyway, I was named one of Kidspot’s Top 50 Mummy Bloggers, which is kind of a big deal for me. The sponsors love us apparently and want to send one of the top 50 mummy bloggers to stay in tropical paradise for a week. Which is my ideal holiday, imagine how well my joints would do if thrown into warmth? And not Tassie Pseudo Warmth, but actual real warmth? I digress.

    On the flip side, I am up there alongside some amazing women, who desperately deserve a holiday of their own. Tiff for instance, my amazing friend, who has spent more time in hospital with Ivy these last few months than anyone should ever have to.

    My last 18 months has been a bit of a nightmare. Cancer diagnoses, hospitalisations, Nan dying, anxiety attacks, more hospitalisations, geneticists, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, a coeliacs diagnosis, Paed appointment after Paed appointment, broken arms and finally, early intervention and the beginnings of a diagnosis that is looking likely to end up as Aspergers for Amy. Yes, I finally said it out loud here, despite not wanting to jinx myself. We think Amy has Aspergers. There is a lot going on with Amy that I’ve not even been able to bring myself to blog about, because how do you tell the InterWebs that your daughter is amazingly talented, but oh my God, I think something is not entirely right here.

    I would love a holiday and you can actually vote for me over there. You can also click through and have a look at my three favourite posts and what I’ve got to say for myself.

    By the same token, I am absolutely thrilled to have ended up as a top 50 blogger. I’ve been doing this for a very long time now and it’s nice to have someone say that they enjoy reading here. Every email I get, every new commenter who says ‘I get where you’re coming from’ makes me happy.

    And sometimes, being happy with what you’ve got is enough, no matter how long ago the last holiday was.

    ***

    Have you been on holiday with your family recently? Where did you go? Where would your dream destination be if you had unlimited funds? (Unlimited funds would send me straight to England to visit my very favourite bloggers over there, before a quick trip to Kansas and then home again.)

    I’m half hoping that this summer, we can go and spend a few days on a beach up at St Helens with the kids because that would be lovely and relaxing. Failing that, a day trip to the beach would be nice. Or anywhere I can keep the kids semi contained while I lay in the sun with a book and my sunscreen. Like the backyard. Maybe here, in the depths of winter, I’m just longing for sunshine and warmth. A very real possibility.

    Posted in Amy, Blogging, Cancer, EDS, Grief, Headfuck.

  3. Terrible skin and asking advice.

    My skin is terrible. So terrible that in most photos of me, I utilise the power of the ‘heal’ tool in photoshop.

    I think most of it is EDS and not healing very well, or very fast, but my skin = shocking. I get a lot of period related pimples and they take forever to heal, leaving me with giant red spots all over my face.

    Sexy, right?

    I’ve had some sucess with using an insane amount of vitamin C to help with healing, but as for skin products, I use very few.

    So I’m asking your advice, my lovely beautiful internets on what works for you. My skin is combination/oily and at the moment, I use a garnier daily moisture cream and avon clearskin cleanser and warm water.

    Obviously that regime is working SO WELL.

    However, while the vitamin C isn’t really helping with the pimples and healing, it does seem to be having some effect on the bruises I develop. 80% of the time I don’t look like a beaten wife. I used to joke that someone seeing my legs would think that Nathan was hitting me. Luckily the bruising seems to be limited to my legs/bum/back, with a few on my upper arms. I don’t think I’d cope very well if I was bruising everywhere – lovebites are disgusting looking and even worse if they’ve just appeared for no reason.

    So what do you think would work well for my face? My skin is quite sensitive and I’d like something that cleared up blackheads too, as *shudder* they are the scourge of my life.

    Dammit, I’m broken enough, the least I could get would be awesome pretty skin! Wouldn’t it be nice if pimples stopped with the end of puberty?

    Posted in EDS, Life.

  4. Ehlers Danlos and Nausea

    Probably one of the hardest things I find about dealing with EDS is the incessant nausea. It’s one of those things, that if the nausea went away, the rest of the EDS would be easier to deal with.

    But add nausea to extreme fatigue, joint pain and constant dislocations and I get a little miserable.

    Some things help – oranges for example. If, when I’m feeling like throwing up, I can force myself to suck on some orange segments, I can usually stave off the throwing up for a little bit. I also have anti emetics, which help with the vomiting, but don’t make the nausea go away. It’s really frustrating.

    Even more frustrating when I talk to doctors (not my regular GP, who prescribes Pramin without blinking) and they can’t understand why nausea is associated with EDS. Aware only of the joint and dislocation side of things, the other symptoms of EDS often get overlooked, or played down.

    Like a geneticist said ‘I have no studies showing incidences of nausea or more dislocations as it relates to a hormonal cycle’ regardless of the fact that anecdotal evidence shows time and time again that a rise in progesterone leaves female EDSers with more floppiness and nausea is a part of EDS for everyone. But of course, if it’s not in a study, published in a journal somewhere, then I can’t POSSIBLY have those symptoms as part of EDS.

    Ugh.

    At least now, after reading BendyGirl’s blog, I know I’m not the only one who vomits after sex! Maybe it’s all the joggling of my stomach, or maybe it’s the hormones released at orgasm, but either way, sex = nausea. Luckily, sex is more than worth it.

    But I digress.

    I’m stuck in a sort of rut with my nausea lately. A mucked up cycle ala a blighted ovum has sent me spiralling back into a 6 week long cycle, with ovulation fuck knows when – day 14 it feels like, EXACTLY where it should be. Unfortunately, that means I get a month of rising progesterone levels before I get my period and they fall off again. Which leaves me retching and feeling like the dead for oh, about 30 days of 42.

    Not fun. Not fun at all.

    When I see new doctors, for whatever reason, I do my best to give them a run down of what they’d expect to see symptom wise from someone presenting with EDS, who didn’t know that they had it. I do this to student doctors, physio’s, nurses, basically everyone in the medical field I can get my hands on. I educate them.

    If you are a doctor/nurse/friend and someone presents with fatigue, nausea, achey joints, headaches, reduced concentration and a general feeling of unwellness and it’s lasting for a long time, months or years, then maybe, just maybe, it’s a connective tissue disorder. Generally, those symptoms above are the ones people notice, because if you’re bendy, being bendy is so normal that we don’t think to tell the doctor ‘On top of all that, I can put my feet behind my head and I’m amazing at yoga and athletic sex, oh and by the way, my joints do this *click*’.

    The other thing I tend to try and educate doctors on is that most of the time, if they can’t come up with a diagnosis, it’s not because there isn’t one, but because they’re not looking hard enough or thinking outside of the box. I never ever want to see anyone else fobbed off with a diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome if there is more to be done or investigated. Blood tests are not the be all and end all of diagnostics.

    There. Educating. See?

    When I was first sick and trying to get a diagnosis, because of my vomiting and nausea issues, I was ‘diagnosed’ with just about every form of eating disorder out there. Which was insane, because given a choice (and when I was feeling well) I was perfectly capable of eating bread and jam, topped with whipped cream, all without counting a single calorie or even feeling guilty about it.

    I spent a lot of time then living on pasta with a little tomato soup through it, topped with lettuce and tomatoes. Healthy food and somehow, pasta (gluten containing, sweet sweet gluten) and salad was easier to keep down.

    Nowadays the only pasta in my house is gluten free and somehow, it’s not quite the same, even when I do top it with salad.

    So nausea. Probably one of the more draining sides of EDS. I’m sick of not sleeping because I’m too busy head down in the toilet, or not eating because I can’t swallow without retching.

    Not fun.

    If you’re interested, other EDSy bloggers can be found here:

    BendyGirl
    The Tensile Times
    BubbleGirl
    Everyday Stranger
    MeriLizzie

    (I know I read more than these, but my brain is blanking. Speak up if you’re blogging about EDS and I’ve not linked you, I’ll edit to include you.)

    Posted in EDS.

  5. Isaac and EDS and Bowel Issues

    Parachoc.

    Say it out loud. Doesn’t it sound like it would be a brown sludge, tasting faintly of chemical chocolate and dripping, syrup like from the spoon. It does, doesn’t it.

    So when I opened our bottle of parachoc and poured out white gloopy stuff, the consistency of glue and tasting like oil and sugar mixed together, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

    Parachoc is used to help constipation in children – it’s a paraffin based softener, meaning that the stomach ‘apparently’ doesn’t absorb it, leaving it to help ease everything through the bowel.

    To be honest, I’m doubtful this is going to help Isaac’s bowel problems.

    Bowel Problems: A recap.

    I’m not sure we’ve talked about Isaac’s bowel issues here yet. Anyway, he has trouble pooing. Lots and lots of trouble. To the point that sometimes, it takes him 24 hours after we first see streaks in his nappy for him to actually manage to poo properly and not just streak the nappy every 20 minutes. Sometimes it takes longer than 24 hours.

    To begin with, I thought maybe it was a constipation issue. However, with lots of water, apples and veggies, he’s not constipated, he just has lots of trouble with bowel movements.

    My personal feeling is that it’s a ‘floppy bowel’ issue, to do with the Ehlers Danlos – which I know in adults causes all kind of gut issues, mostly because I suffer from them myself. So why wouldn’t a floppy toddler be any different?

    When we saw the Paed the other week, we discussed Isaac’s bowel issues AGAIN and he reiterated that he’d like to try Isaac on Parachoc, regardless of constipation.

    It goes against everything in my nature to willingly feed my child paraffin, but we’re ticking the boxes and at least saying that we’ve tried the parachoc before the Paeds team tries something else.

    I think the sooner we sort it out, the better, because my heart can only withstand so much screaming in pain, as I rub Isaac’s back while he sobs into my lap and tries to poo. It’s not a highlight of my week. And at the moment, we’re doing that every day.

    So Parachoc. Maybe it will help. Maybe it won’t.

    And at the end of the day, at least we will have tried it.

    In other EDS stuff, Isaac has been dislocating his ribs. Le sigh. At the very least, I know how to relocate his ribs. His hand also made an awfully suspicious cracking sound the other day as he pulled away from me. It terrifies me that we’re seeing dislocations at 18 months – he’s so young. I worry about him and his future. Amy is getting bendier too and we’re slowly having to talk about how we’ll manage her EDS and school and Coeliacs and everything all rolled into one.

    I try not to think about the bigger picture. The bigger picture scares me. We’ll just sort through the issues, one at a time.

    Like always.

    Posted in EDS, Headfuck, Isaac.

  6. It’s like being hit by a load of bricks and then run over by a car.

    Yesterday, we had a Paeds appointment for Isaac. Nothing major, just a touch base kind of thing.

    However.

    The kids woke up at 9.30am, 40 minutes before we needed to walk out of our door.

    Okay, we can do this I thought, as I bustled around getting ready for a quick shower – only, when I turned on the water, nothing happened.

    Our pipes – were frozen solid.

    A fortnight or so ago, to prevent the pipes from freezing again, I’d asked Nathan to wrap insulation around the pipes to protect them. He grumbled, but he did it. Unfortunately, it had gotten so cold that everything had frozen despite it.

    I wavered between going to the appointment, or cancelling at the last minute and decided that even without showers, we really needed to touch base. So a quick baby wipe bath later (ugh!) and a frantic dash to get the kids ready, we were on our way.

    Only to run into every. single. set. of roadworks between here and the city.

    By the time we were reaching the outskirts of Hobart, I was getting very ill and preparing to vomit into a book depository envelope. I opened the windows wide, let in the freezing air, took 2 pramin and hoped I wouldn’t have to throw up.

    We parked, just as my nausea abated and I got the shakes. I know once I start to rattle (normally hard enough to make my bedding fall off me if I’m at home) that I’m not going to vomit. Power walking to the hospital, 20 minutes late, I’m not sure what Isaac thought was happening as I held him tightly and shook around everything.

    Unfortunately, once I’ve gone through the nausea/feel better/shakes thing, the next step on the agenda is bone crippling exhaustion.

    I was a mess.

    We made it through the appointment, however, the drive home was less than fun as I huddled in a small ball in my seat, shaking with exhaustion and wishing I could just teleport home, instead of having to put up with 50 minutes worth of driving + stops for petrol and stuff.

    Ugh.

    There are huge gaps in my memory of the drive and that’s probably the best thing.

    Once home, I collapsed into bed with my feet propped up on pillows (the nausea was likely a huge blood pressure dip) and fell asleep, despite Isaac tucked under my chin and trying to poke my eyes out. I was just that exhausted. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

    2 hours later, I woke up, still exhausted and dragged myself out of bed. Nathan had cleaned the house and was in the middle of making dinner. Yay Nathan!

    Today, I feel much better – it’s sunny outside which helps and I slept for 8 hours straight.

    However, I know the exhaustion is lurking still. The Cymbalta, while working amazingly for anxiety, made me rather manic. Which means I used up all my energy for the next month, rushing around like a mad person, getting things done.

    I’ve stopped the cymbalta now (god, I feel like a see saw, I write a post saying ‘It works! It’s brilliant!’ and then another going ‘Ugh, side effects, sort of giving me the shits’ and then another saying ‘I’ve stopped the drug, the side effects were making me sicker than the original thing we were treating’. My body – not fantastic at dealing with meds) and I think yesterday was part of the backlash of stopping.

    At the very least, I’ve stopped being so nauseous all the time – instead it just comes in big waves like normal, my skin is clearing up – it just needs to heal a little faster, and my anxiety, well, I can deal with that on my own, better than I can cope without orgasms and food.

    So yeah, the Cymbalta trial ended sort of badly. Heh.

    Also, seeing as how my exhaustion is just sort of sitting under the surface ready to come back, I’m going to be doing some reposts of my older stuff that you might not have seen. I promise it will be funny stuff at least. Also, if anyone wants to put their hand up and guest post, I’ll accept guest posts too.

    It’s like a Sleepless Nights holiday, only not really.

    Posted in Blogging, EDS, Gotta Laugh, Headfuck.

  7. Cymbalta, Ehlers Danlos and Teething.

    This morning when I woke up and discovered that my skin was still looking godawful and I looked terrible, I thought that maybe I’d just hide in a bed somewhere warm for the day. Of course, life with kids never works out quite that way and while I did manage 30 minutes in bed before lunch with a book, I had Isaac snuggled under my chin and Amy curled up in the small of my back, eating an orange and dripping juice everywhere.

    I think part of my roller coaster of manic energy/total exhaustion has been due to my new tablets. The cymbalta have been fantastic for my anxiety since I got over the hurdle of the first week – in which I spent the days feeling stoned out of my mind, not sleeping and hurting all over – however, they do have some drawbacks.

    My appetite has been killed dead. Now that wouldn’t be so bad, if I didn’t get sick so fast. Without eating, my body forgets all the things it’s meant to be doing, like healing and not producing giant bruises and spectacular pimples. Cups of tea, sadly, while I could keep them down, weren’t doing anything for my health, because it’s all I was ingesting. I’m making a giant effort to at least drink milk and eat lots of fruit and while I’m still taking anti-nausea pills like they’re going out of fashion, I’ve not retched today and I have managed to eat. Not a lot, but I ate.

    The cymbalta also make me incredibly restless. I was hoping they’d make me a little drowsy, so I could take them before bed, but a few nights of not sleeping convinced me that that’s not how they were going to work. I’m having trouble sitting still to do anything, finding myself wandering away mid sentence in a book, or drifting towards the fire a few lines into a blog post. The children think this is great and follow me around the house, hoping that I’ll dole out chocolate instead of setting out to make a proper lunch. I’ve not done it yet, but they’re forever hopeful.

    On the upside, like I mentioned above, they’ve been fantastic for my panic attacks and so so good for the neuropathic pain episodes and despite the first week of insomnia, I am sleeping well enough at night, once I can finally switch off. Surely 6 good heavy hours of sleep is better than 8 broken hours. Right?

    In other news, Isaac is teething, with 3 molars making their way through at the moment. While he’s not waking at night – he’s a better sleeper than Amy, still! (who is waking at night, regularly) – he is completely miserable during the day, clinging and whining a lot. It’s draining on me, as I’m falling apart a little and he wants to to snuggle on my chest, while I stand up and rock him. Sitting down = unacceptable. He will allow me to sit on the fit ball, but my proprioception is so terrible that I am certain it’s only sheer luck we haven’t fallen off it yet. At this point, with him clingy and completely napless, I would KILL for a rocking chair. It’s on my wish list of things I’ll never have. Like a dishwasher, a maid and spare time.

    He was happy today to see my mother and even happier to wander around outside with us for a while, although he had a tantrum of epic proportions when we came back inside because I couldn’t stand any longer. He can do a brilliant tantrum, with the face down screaming and kicking. I’m sure it will be amusing until the first time he does it in public.

    Amy was also thrilled to be wandering around outside with her grandmother and her mother, even happier when Mum found two duck eggs, laid early this morning. (They definitely weren’t there yesterday evening when I did the rounds) At this point, we’ve got 5 ducks and a drake, 6 chooks and a rooster and we’re getting two hens eggs a day. I’m going to steal some of the ducks eggs, just long enough to get us into spring, so that I won’t be worrying about the ducks (and hens) raising babies in the bitter cold. When they start to sit, I’ll keep you updated.

    I’m hanging on Spring and the warmer weather, dying to get things growing properly in my garden and to be eating something (other than eggs) that I’ve had a hand in producing. Not to mention how much better my EDS feels when I’m not frozen solid and I’m able to sit in the sunshine, without the wind stripping the flesh from my bones. Come on warmth.

    Posted in Animals, EDS, Gotta Laugh.

  8. Drugs and Addictions.

    Drugs:

    I’m beginning to feel a bit like a Pharmacy, as I juggle drugs and fill prescriptions and dole out medication to myself. It’s an interesting place to find yourself at 21, unlike my peers, I don’t have a recreational drug habit, just a I’m-slightly-broken type drug habit.

    Nathan wonders what damage I’m doing to my body by taking them. I wonder what damage I’d be likely to do to my body was I not taking them. We end in a stalemate.

    I saw the doctor again today, and left with a new anti-depressant, something that has the benefit of being even better for neuropathic pain and anxiety. I’m grateful for this, the Endep is fantastic, but if the new drug, Cymbalta, is even more fantastic than the Endep, well then, I’ll take that thankyouverymuch.

    I shall report back with how I’m feeling in a week or so.

    Addictions:

    Books. My standard addictions. Plus chocolate, but I can’t link you up with the chocolate I love. Hehe.

    (all links are affiliate links, but I’ve searched for the cheapest copy of the book, plus it’s free shipping. I earn a few pence if you buy something through these links)

    I just finished reading The Time Travellers Wife, which is a brilliant book. Absolutely fantastic. If you haven’t read it, you should, I recommend it entirely.

    Other books I recommend entirely are the books from Alice Sebold – The Lovely Bones, Lucky, and The Almost Moon, all of which will take your breath away with their brilliant writing.

    I’ve just started The Invisible Road, by Elizabeth Knox (which is 2 books in one, Dreamhunter and Dreamquake), the book that the lovely Stephen Estcourt mailed to me.

    On my current to read list are

    Riders and Rivals by Jilly Cooper – total junk food for the brain. I’m looking forward to it.

    One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez – I’ve heard good things.

    Amy and I are reading Alice in Wonderland, it’s a little old for her, but she’s enjoying snuggling while we try and get through a chapter a day (a chapter is around 5 pages, so not too bad.)

    Schindlers List by Thomas Keneally

    My Invented Country by Isabel Allende

    And for cooking and food books, I’ve just read Heston Blumenthals Total Perfection and enjoyed it immensely as well as Margaret Fultons Encyclopaedia of Food and Cookery.

    So that’s me.

    What are you reading at the moment?

    And if you’re not reading books, what blogs are making you laugh/cry/wonder? Leave a link, I’m always after new blogs to follow.

    Posted in Blogging, EDS.

  9. Ehlers Danlos and Neuropathic Pain

    A little while ago I went to a rheumatologist to discuss my Ehlers Danlos and various pain management drugs.

    At first, the lovely doctor was a little baffled as to why I was seeing her, as she was not a doctor who normally sees EDS – apparently in Tasmania, once you’ve gotten a diagnosis, you’re expected to stay at home and deal with it, not seek input from specialists. But maybe that was just the collective impression I’ve had from all the doctors I’ve seen.

    We talked a little, as you do and she admitted that she knew very little about EDS, having only seen one, very mild case of it in her history of seeing patients. I wasn’t put off, I’d much prefer a doctor who admits they know very little and listen to me, rather than someone who knows very little, bluffs it out and ignores everything I’ve got to say.

    Of course, we all know how bendy I am and I had to stop myself choking with laughter when she asked which joints of mine dislocate. I told her she’d be better of asking which ones don’t dislocate (to my knowledge, my right elbow is fine. So are my ring fingers. And I don’t think I’ve ever dislocated my spine. I’ve also never dislocated a patella, my knees when they dislocate prefer to pop out my fibula. Yay me) and so we worked through how broken I am.

    We talked about pain management and she recommended a new drug, something that I’d not tried. It’s called Endep, and while it’s mostly prescribed for depression, it also works ‘off the label’ for insomnia (check) and pain (double check).

    She was concerned about the possibility that my pain, while some of it is related to constant and recurrent dislocated, that it could actually be neuropathic. She was also quick to let me know that she didn’t think that it was ‘all in my head’ but instead, that my nerve signals were getting muddled and telling me I had pain when I didn’t.

    Which um, hello pain episodes! I knew, from research, that my pain episodes were likely neuropathic in nature, but I couldn’t get my GP to listen to me properly when I tried to bring it up before. In his defence he is highly overworked, knows very little about EDS and so relies on me to research and present him with the best course of action. Fine when it’s ‘please redo my prescriptions’ less fine when it’s ‘I’m having issues with — and I need your help’.

    Anyway.

    I have pain episodes. They’re triggered by something hurting, something new, that my body isn’t prepared for, which in turn overloads my brain. When I’m having one, it feels like all my muscles are clenched, my skin feels like it’s burning and every nerve ending sets on fire. I can’t walk properly during one, because it hurts too much and if I’m touched suddenly, I have a panic attack because of the pain. It’s almost like an itch in the middle of your back you can’t scratch, your whole body focuses on it and everything else goes a little hazy.

    To put it in perspective, a stubbed toe can cause a pain episode. My latest one was caused by my period starting, the period pain tipped my brain over the edge into a world of hurtiness.

    The Endep, because they work on nerve pain, they help the pain episodes, something that no other (legal) drug has helped with yet.

    So they’re working and working well – I’m managing to sleep again and my pain has calmed down. Inside a brain, the pain and anxiety centres are very close together (or else respond the same way to stimuli, I can’t quite remember), meaning that pain triggers anxiety and anxiety can trigger neuropathic pain

    And there I was, falling apart, stuck in the centre of a giant vicious cycle. That I’ve now, hopefully, broken.

    Of course, I’ve still got pain from the dislocations and I suspect we’ll see the onset of arthritis in my hands fairly soon, but the debilitating pain, that’s being helped.

    I’m also still on a slow release Tramadol and a regime of panadol osteo (for bone pain) and it’s better than it was. I’m still fairly broken, but I’m not as messed up as I was.

    I’ve got a referral to the pain management clinic as well, so I’m hoping that that will help a bit with the pain/anxiety cycle – but of course, like all good things it takes 9 months to get in to see them. Le sigh.

    I’m in a good place at the moment, mentally (we’ll ignore my physical bits for now, fucked up mess that they are). Of course, there is a ‘clickiness’ in my heart, so I’m booked for an ECG to check my heart out and I’ve got a mild scoliosis that needs to be watched – something that I didn’t have a few years ago, but I’m in a good place.

    Something that I definitely wasn’t a few weeks ago.

    ***

    Updated:

    A visit with the doctor has seen my Endep changed to Cymbalta, which in the long term will be better for pain and anxiety. That said, it’s currently making me completely sleepless, so I’m not enjoying myself very much. Sigh. It feels like a balancing act, trying to work out what works best with minimal side effects and long term issues.

    Posted in EDS, Life.

  10. Everyone needs sentinels.

    Nope. Sorry, can’t come through here.

    Seems I’ve suddenly got guard ducks. Maybe they’re reacting to a rooster being introduced to the mix?

    Who knows.

    Or maybe they’re guarding against these guys who have moved in next door.

    It’s a Cattle Egret. A beautiful bird.

    Sadly, I was outside with only my 50mm lens and not my zoom lens, so getting a closeup was harder than you’d think.

    ***

    In other news, scientists have discovered why women think they are fat.

    I’d love to know how I would score in one of their tests, seeing as how my brain thinks my body is actually half a step to the left of where it is, leaving me regularly walking into doors or walls or tripping for no reason.

    Seems I’m not the only one with fucked up proprioception.

    Posted in Animals, EDS, Life.

  11. On the nature of living with a (mostly) invisible diability.

    If you watch me walk down the street, you probably wouldn’t know that I had Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Mostly because I try not to get into positions that end up with me walking down the street – which strikes shopping off my list.

    If you notice me walking, I probably look okay, to you. You don’t see the slight hitch in my step as my hips sublux over and over again and you (hopefully) don’t see the intense concentration on my face that shows I’m placing each foot consciously, making sure they don’t turn in/fall apart/trip me over.

    Most of the time, I don’t even notice these things either. The conscious foot placing has become second nature, like making sure everything is in it’s place before I stand up. Falling isn’t as fun as it sounds. I’ve put up with them for so long, ignored them for so long that they pass me by. I don’t notice how hard walking is, or how my hips slide around in the joint.

    Until I have a major crash and I discover that I’ve burned so much energy being okay, that I can’t be okay anymore.

    When I dislocated my knee at the beginning of the month, I was crashing and crashing hard. I don’t pay much attention to my daily dislocations, mostly because they’ve happened so often that they’re nothing special anymore. I do however say fuck a lot as I busily try and relocate things and I have been known to kick Nathan in the shins for huffing when asked to reduce my many many dislocated ribs.

    My knee however was different. It was dislocated badly for almost 3 hours, leaving me unable to move. By the end of the 3 hours, I’d gone from being mostly okay with just some minor pain (when the fibula was totally dislocated) to openly sobbing as it slowly slowly relocated over whatever tendon was holding it out of position.

    That was the straw on the camels back. The next few days I spent curled up in the recliner, braced and taped to within an inch of my life, not really able to do much of anything except issue orders and dole out cuddles.

    I’m still not recovered from the big crash. It’s probably the hardest I’ve pushed myself and the farthest I’ve fallen since I was in High School and determined to be like all the other teenagers competing in our Rock Eisteddfod. Yes, I did it. I also spent a month in bed after it.

    It hits me hard after a big crash, just how bad my EDS has gotten. My left shoulder slides around in it’s joint and my pelvis feels like it’s a wobble board. My ribs fall out of place and my collarbones forget how to hold together, along with many many other things.

    And it’s stupid little things that drive me insane. Not being able to hold my arms up long enough to brush my hair, without running out of energy and needing to sit down where ever I am. Being exhausted, but at the same time, being completely unable to sleep. And if I do sleep, waking up with more dislocations than I fell asleep with and hurting oh so badly.

    People don’t see that when I’m out and about though. Hell, people don’t see it full stop. Even Nathan doesn’t see the bulk of what dislocates and how bad it is, day to day. If I told him about every dislocation I’d never get anything else done.

    Ehlers Danlos is an invisible disability and you can’t see it on me. Not unless you’re bendy too and can spot the symptoms across a waiting room. Unless I’m wearing a bright pink wrist brace (which I’m totally going to start campaigning for, the beige colour is shit) you can’t tell.

    Unless I’m exceptionally grumpy, no one knows that I’m feeling crappy. On days when I simply cannot brush my hair without needing to sit in the middle of the bathroom floor exhausted, I don’t leave the house. Easy as that.

    May is Ehlers Danlos Syndrome awareness month, so this is me, making you aware. Because this month, I don’t think we’re seeing any doctors and I’m getting a little tired of having to go over the same thing over and over again with our doctors. EDS affects everything. My collagen works like sun soaked chewing gum, unlike most people’s, whose collagen works like snappy rubber bands. Things hurt. My pain is bad, my joints are bad and I’m tired.

    And people can’t see it.

    Which is a curse and a blessing in the same breath.

    Thumb Hypermobility

    Wrist and thumb hypermobility

    Little Finger Hypermobility

    Ankle Subluxation

    More photos here

    Posted in EDS, Gotta Laugh, Headfuck, Life.

  12. Commence exhausted flopping about ….. now.

    I am exhausted. Completely and utterly beat.

    Mentally and physically.

    We had our Paeds appointment today (previous posts here and here) and really, they don’t like to give straight answers do they?

    The short results – both children are positive for the Coeliacs gene, but of course that is no guarantee to them actually getting coeliacs, the Paed was quick to point out, no matter that they both already HAVE symptoms of coeliacs AND a clinical diagnosis of such.

    He wouldn’t talk about the fact that Amy already gets horrendously sick on gluten, loses weight and is miserable. Or that Isaac stops sleeping, gets eczema and is miserable.

    Oh no, until you’ve got a biopsy in front of you with a positive result, no diagnosis.

    Which actually, is the same thing he seemed to think of the Ehlers Danlos. He threw around a lot of words like maybe and possible.

    Plus, way to get me annoyed, he said ‘the geneticists seem to think both children will develop Ehlers Danlos’. In hindsight, I am fuming at that statement and should have told him outright that unlike coeliacs, EDS is not something you ‘develop’. You either have it or you don’t and it gets worse.

    Arghh.

    It frustrates me that I seem to know more about EDS and the management thereof than the doctors we see.

    Sigh.

    So I am exhausted. Relieved that it’s nothing more than Coeliacs, but frustrated that I’m treated like a silly uneducated mother when I’m in the hospital with the kidlets.

    But yay! Upside!

    Posted in Amy, EDS, Food-Issues, Isaac.

  13. My Bathroom Really Needs a Lock

    I was half way through my shower today, when I spotted my razor on the wall.

    Hmmmm. I thought. I haven’t done any maintenance in a while. Maybe I ought to look into that.

    Sure, my razor was a little blunt and I probably ought to buy a new head for it, but what the hell I figured, I’ll work carefully.

    Just as I started, the bathroom door flew open and in crawled Isaac at the speed of light.

    ‘Hey-yo!’

    Hmmmph. ‘Hello kid.’

    ‘Here-ya!’ He demanded, passing me a face washer from the floor.

    ‘Thankyou.’

    Nathan followed him in shortly, smirking, and I glared at the both of them until they left.

    Back to what I was doing, I was contorted in an awkward position when Amy raced in. I quickly changed to shaving my legs and she didn’t notice.

    ‘Hi kid. What do you want?’

    ‘I needa use the potty.’

    ‘Oh. Okay. Quickly then.’

    She left and I went back to what I was doing.

    Now, the upside of being bendy is that I can see bits of myself that you probably can’t, meaning that shaving is more sight-work and less guess-work.

    The downside of being bendy is that my skin is so fragile, I have to be incredibly careful not to tear great chunks of skin out. Which, incidentally, I have done before, leaving a 4 inch long and inch wide gash down my shin. My shower looked like a scene from Psycho that day.

    So, I’m contorted into an awkward position, again, half upside down and moving carefully. I wasn’t really prepared to see a mouse run under the washing machine. Luckily I didn’t start jumping up and down trying to schwack it while I was still contorted.

    Heh.

    As a side note, we bought new shampoo and conditioner yesterday. Apparently it has a ‘cooling’ action or something, anyway, I didn’t pick it out.

    You can see where this is going.

    No matter how careful I am, the fragility of my skin means I cut myself numerous times shaving anyway.

    And we’ll add that to some distractions.

    And ‘cooling action’ conditioner, still in my hair while I was shaving.

    Yes.

    Maybe it would have been pleasant for a hard core masochist. Me, not so much.

    Laugh all you want, it will be your turn next time.

    So for this Easter, I wish you undistracted showers, sharp razors and conditioner that doesn’t make your girly bits feel like you dunked them in mouthwash.

    A basket full of eggs and a pleasant weekend would also be nice for everyone.

    Posted in EDS, Gotta Laugh.

  14. Food, eating and broken tongue ties.

    So, my son. He of the not swallowing and the tongue tie and the issues.

    He turned around the other day and poked his tongue back out at me. I was stunned, in a good way. I prised open his mouth, which was harder than it sounds, and checked. No tongue tie. The frenulum that I used to be able to see easily, gone.

    I don’t know if he bit it, or snapped it somehow, but it’s fixed. Suddenly, instantly, he can swallow properly and poke his tongue out. He is talking heaps more and trying to have conversations with me. The issue now is trying to work out what the hell he is saying before he gets frustrated with me and gives it over to yelling or screeching instead.

    It’s insane.

    It’s fantastic.

    He took 2 steps the other day too. Wobbly ones and after two steps he threw himself at me, content that I would catch him. I did and we giggled. He is still very wobbly and can’t manage any more than 5 seconds standing unsupported.

    Now that he is standing alone though, I’m noticing more issues. His left foot turns out, badly. Like, 90 degrees badly and when he steps, it doesn’t straighten.

    With my untrained eyes, it looks like the turn is coming from the hip, but I’ll ask the physiotherapist about it next time we see her. I don’t know what impact it will have on his walking, but to be honest, I’m not expecting him to walk any time soon. It’s enough that occasionally he lets go with his hands, and walks holding my hands. Both things that Amy was doing at 11-12months. And I KNOW that you’re not meant to compare, but really, I can’t exactly compare him to ‘normal’ children with their development, can I?

    Can we just come back to the fact that he is swallowing? Properly? Thank GOD.

    ***

    In unrelated blogging news, I’ve been updating my food blog again, after months of …. um …. not. I’m enjoying it and maybe you will too.

    There are new posts up on the other blog. I mean, one new post. You’ve probably seen it already. [yes, this is me telling you to go read my other blog. now. make me feel better about the lack of readers over there, okay?]

    Also, I want to address the sponsored posts issue. Yes, I’m doing sponsored posts here for Nuffnang. Mostly because being a poor penniless writer doesn’t appeal to me and Nuffnang doesn’t pay badly. Funds are tight here, Nathan is my full time carer, so he doesn’t work at the moment. That might change as the children get older, but my body is failing and I need him home. So any money I bring in from writing goes towards the household and things like that.

    Sunday, I will be announcing the winners of my advertising competition. Maybe sooner – I’ve made my decisions and some of you have been notified already and some haven’t. Please, bear in mind that if you didn’t get a free ad spot at this time, I will probably be offering spaces again in a month. And I love every single one of you who entered, so thankyou so so much.

    So that’s me! How have you been?

    Posted in Blogging, EDS.

  15. Facebook and Ehlers Danlos

    There is a copy paste status going around on Facebook that makes me want to gouge my eyes out.

    Paraphrasing:

    I love my body even though it’s changed through child birth, every mark, every scar, it’s a sign of my children and etc etc etc. Copy paste this if you’ve had children etc etc etc.

    Lovely sentiment and I can totally understand why women are copy pasting it to their status. Affirmation that even though childbirth has changed your body, you are an amazing woman for it.

    And you ARE. My GOD you are. You’re amazing, you created another human being. That right there is amazing and you should be proud. If I see the copy/paste thingy on your status, I promise, I won’t even be tempted to throw stones at you.

    But reading that status makes me bitter.

    Maybe because after 2 children, I’m not all that changed? I don’t think childbearing has taken it’s toll on my body all that much – except for how much bendier I got.

    And yet, I am broken and battered still.

    If my war wounds were a result of my children, I would bear them proudly, I would stand up and I would shout from the roof tops how proud I was of my body.

    Yet, my elastic skin that tears at the drop of a hat, that wasn’t childbirth. The stretchmarks on my stomach, while exacerbated by pregnancy, weren’t caused by pregnancy.

    The bruising on my legs, the livedo reticularis that means I can’t wear skirts, my battered broken bits -

    Not a one of them I attribute to pregnancy and child birth.

    Every. Single. One. of the things I dislike about my body is caused by Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and that makes me bitter.

    I can forgive the visual changes – really, I don’t mind how my body looks, even though it’s different. It would have been different anyway, no matter what.

    I dislike my body, often, even though I don’t have body image issues (in fact – 2 children later, I am quite proud of how I look).

    But.

    I hate how I can’t bounce out of bed without checking that all of my joints are in place.

    I hate that I can’t walk across the room without tripping over, or walking into a wall, or having to think about every step and judge where everything is by sight, because my feet are stupid and don’t work very well.

    I dislike that I have to think consciously about how I move.

    I hate that pouring the milk for my cup of tea this morning dislocated my wrist.

    I hate the fact that my ribs won’t stay attached to my spine like they should.

    I don’t like the way my skin tears, just because it feels like it and then takes weeks to heal. I dislike the bruising that makes me look like a victim of domestic violence (although, am grateful, my face rarely bruises unless I actually walk into a door).

    I hate that I am 21 and move like I am so much older – feel like I am so much older. I hate the pain and the exhaustion. My word the pain. My joints slide around like butter and while my smaller joints don’t leave me screaming, it doesn’t mean they don’t hurt. We won’t even talk about how my teeth hurt from the clenching.

    I am bitter about how the EDS has changed my body and I dislike that I can’t love myself in it’s entirety, when really, I’d just like a trade in. It can look exactly the same, just someone replace my fucked up genetics and collagen PLEASE.

    Bleh.

    I’m just feeling crappy and wishing my only issues were visual ones caused by childbirth.

    [Again I state that if you copy pasted that status to your Facebook, I am not having a go at you. You are amazing, you created a human being and you should be proud of every single mark it caused. I am just bitter that I am broken and hurting.]

    Posted in EDS, Life.

  16. Have Your Say: Food Issues

    Okay, so here is the deal. I want to start doing a ‘thing’ where I’ll talk about something and you can all chime in with as much advice as you like. Normally mothers get annoyed about unsolicited advice, but this time, I’m asking for help.

    Also, I will be about in the comments, so if you want to ask something and have people chime in, even if it’s just to say ‘my kid did that too and grew out of it’ then please, do so. We’ve got a community built here, we may as well utilise it.

    ****

    Now, on to my issue:

    Isaac, he doesn’t swallow food. I feed him and he chews the food, but doesn’t swallow, just spits it out again once it’s chewed.

    If I give him pureed or mashed food, he might swallow a mouthful maybe, before he realises that I’ve deposited it in his mouth, but mostly, he’ll spit it into his hand and try to feed it to me. Failing that, he’ll just drop it. He’s not a fan of spoon food.

    If I feed him finger food, which is his preference, he chews it and then spits it out without swallowing. I can give him half an apple and come back and the apple will be gone, but really, the apple is sitting in a giant circle of chewed pieces around him.

    Peas, well, he’ll eat a few peas, before chewing and spitting the rest. The same for most of his other vegetables. Actually, considering I don’t count the peas, he is probably just chewing and spitting all of them. I haven’t seen any come out the other end.

    He will eat soft fruit: cantaloupe, watermelon, pears, nectarines. He won’t eat the skin of nectarines or pears and once he gets near the skin he starts spitting. If I peel them first, he still mostly spits the food out.

    He will drink milk or water from a bottle or a sippy cup. He is down to 1-2 breastfeeds a day and as of right now, I haven’t breastfed him for 15 hours and I’m not likely to feed him again for another 12 or so hours.

    He doesn’t appear to be losing weight, but I don’t have any scales here to check if he is gaining weight either.

    He is drinking a full bottle at bedtime and naptime, but I know he is hungry when I give him solid food to eat, so it’s not a hunger issue that I can see.

    Oh and he is just over 12 months old.

    My questions:

    Does anyone else’s child do this?

    Does anyone have any good ideas that I can try, to get him to start swallowing the food?

    And, to my readers with experience in Ehlers Danlos Syndrome – do you think this could be EDS related? We don’t have another specialist Paeds appointment for another five months, but if he continues to not swallow, I’m prepared to push for an earlier appointment.

    Finally: Does anyone else have any questions they want answers to about kids and food? If so, leave them in the comments section. Commenters, read the comments, someone might be dealing with your exact same issue. This might work really well, or it might flop. Frankly, if it helps me get Isaac actually swallowing solid food, then I don’t care.

    Kids! Sheesh, but they’re stressful.

    Posted in EDS.

  17. Additions

    I did tell you on twitter that this wasn’t all that exciting, just exciting for me.

    You know what you need to do when life is stressful? You need to add more things to the family, so you don’t have any time to worry about anxiety or panic attacks.

    So would you please all welcome Susie, the newest addition to our family.

    Our Newest Addition

    Susie

    Please, ignore the fact that my feet are purple in that second photo. I’m a bit EDS-y lately.

    Susie’s Mum was a Springer Spaniel x Border Collie and her dad was a purebred Springer Spaniel. This is the closest to a purebred dog I’ve ever owned in my LIFE! Normally I go in for mongrels (like Seven, she’s a terrier x daschund something mix), but Susie needed a home when I needed a puppy, so here she is.

    I suspect we’ll have a bunch of OMG puppy stories coming, but for now, she has fit in really well. Seven is following her around, doing nothing but wagging her tail and trying to lick her.

    The cats however, they’re not too keen. Both of them still look a little like I plugged them into an electrical outlet. They’re going to be sulky for weeks and I fully expect a display of decapitated birds to be awaiting me when I feed them tomorrow.

    Hehe.

    Posted in Animals, EDS.

  18. Happy Birthday Isaac!

    Dear Isaac,

    It’s been a huge year little boy. You spent your first few weeks in a sling, coming with me to doctors appointments. Your great-grandmother had cancer and we were part of her support team. She was in hospital when you were five months old. We sat there, waiting to speak to the doctor when you began to scream. And scream and scream. You got to spend a night in hospital that night. We still don’t know why you screamed, although I have suspicions.

    Nan died a few days after your hospital admission. You were in the room with us when it happened, fast asleep in your pram. I’m grateful for that, that you were sleeping.

    You had a seizure when you were 6 months old. We spent yet another day in Emergency with you, only to be sent home. Luckily you haven’t had another one. The six months since then have been a whirlwind of doctors appointments, geneticists, tests and more tests. You’ve been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and been poked and prodded and shown to students.

    You’re my happy boy, always smiling. You’re a bit grumpy this morning, but that is what you get when  you spend most of the night awake. You’re still smiling, you just want to be doing it from the safety of my arms.

    You still don’t sleep through the night, or sleep much at all actually. I’m going to blame genetics for that, your sister didn’t sleep either and neither did I. Or your grandfather for that matter. It could be the Ehlers Danlos; actually it’s highly likely it is, but we’ll never know as you can’t tell me.

    You crawl so fast, especially when you think you’re missing out on something fun, or food. You like nothing better than launching yourself at your sister, only to have her scream ‘Isaac is going to GET ME!’. You giggle and I have to rescue her, as you try to pull her hair, or squash her flat. She’s not very rough and tumble and yet, you are.You don’t walk yet, although we’ve had moments when you’ve forgotten to hold onto anything and stood by yourself for a few moments. I’m not worried about the lack of walking, not at all. With your bendy bits, walking is too hard for you right now. You will do it when your legs and body are ready and that is fine.

    Isaac, we’ve got an interesting road ahead of us as you get older. I’m not looking forward to seeing how the EDS manifests in you and your sister. I spend a lot of time hoping that you’ll only ever have a mild hypermobility, but then, I’ve seen your skin tear and I may be kidding myself.

    When it comes to food you are SO there. Any and all food, you don’t care, so long as you can feed it to yourself. You’re gluten free like your sister, as gluten causes you terrible eczema. You’re off to have (genetic) blood tests for coeliacs tomorrow and I suspect that is going to be great fun, pinning you down for a needle.

    Your favourite things are wheels and buttons, although I suspect boobs come in very close. We’re slowly weaning, cutting out feeds left right and centre. I wouldn’t be so adamant that we needed to wean if you didn’t keep biting me. Biting is not pleasant. Laughing when I tell you no, even less so.

    You’re getting so big and I’m not entirely sure where the time has gone. It passed in a haze of appointments and grief and busyness. It’s been a hard year this year and it’s still hard. You’re always ready with a snuggle and a hug though and for that I am grateful.

    Happy Birthday baby boy. You’re my handsome boy, my beautiful happy child. I love you more than life itself and I would do anything for you, even when you do bite my nipple and stay awake all night.

    Isaac - First Birthday

    Posted in EDS.

  19. Different

    A phonecall this afternoon:

    Hi, I’m calling about your appointment on the 19th?

    Yes?

    It’s been cancelled. He needs to see a Paediatric Opthamologist, not the regular one.

    I think: You knew how old he was when this appointment was booked. You knew he was a baby, why all of a sudden did you realise the need for a Paeds Specialist?

    I say: Oh, okay. That’s fine.

    It doesn’t matter, we still have to go into the hospital that day anyway, both children are having blood tests to test for the gene that causes Coeliacs. A minor annoyance, compared to the Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, but one they want to follow up with.

    A letter in the mail:

    When I first saw Isaac, he was sitting at the 10th percentile for gross motor development.

    That number, 10th percentile kicks me in the guts. I knew he was delayed, but 10th percentile?

    Since then, he is crawling and pulling to standing. He is now at the 30th percentile for gross motor skills.

    30th, I think, that’s better, right? It could be worse.

    Then I kick myself for thinking that it could be worse, because for some people, it is worse. Some children are off the charts, never to fall back on them again. Some children are at the 1st, 5th, 10th percentile still.

    I was warned that both children would be slow with their gross motor skills. I know that Amy was, I watched Isaac lag behind his peers also. It didn’t bother me, knowing that walking would be late, that things were going to be a little harder for them.

    Seeing it on paper however, 10th percentile, 30th percentile, even as I tell myself that the numbers mean nothing, that hurts. Because on paper, all they are is a number. No one sees how well Amy talks, or how Isaac is clever and works out how to do things differently, that he is determined and that she is amazing. They’re just a number somewhere, a statistic.

    Traversing the realm of doctors and genetic testing and blood tests and physio is harder than it sounds. It’s a stretch of my already limited energy, but it’s something that needs doing. They need the physiotherapy and the follow-up care and the specialists.

    And I’m grateful, I truly am.

    I’m grateful for a diagnosis, I’m grateful for the Australian Medical System, that means this, all of this, it costs me nothing. I’m not likely to go bankrupt providing the children the care they need.

    I’m grateful for the quality of care we are receiving, even when not enough is taught about EDS in med school.

    But sometimes, I wish that the children didn’t have to be just a statistic. Even if that statistic is, in my opinion, deeply flawed.

    Posted in EDS.

  20. A lack and an excess.

    If you’re here for the post with the controversy, you can find it here. Otherwise, move along.

    ***

    I ran out of Tramadol last night. I wasn’t prepared for how panicky that fact would make me. Before you start worrying that I’m addicted, no. I’m not. I’ve not needed to take a Tramadol for nearly a month now and that made me happy. The 20 I was given on prescription have lasted over 4 months. However, a badly dislocated collar bone that wouldn’t reduce, that then pulled out a few ribs and my shoulder left me curled up in a little ball and wishing that the drugs would take effect faster.

    Eventually of course they did and I was able to move. Today everything is back in place, leaving me with a mere lingering stiffness through my left shoulder.

    It wasn’t the first time and god knows it won’t be the last time. That is what worries me.

    I’m lucky, the painkillers I’ve been prescribed haven’t had any side effects for me. No stoned feeling (I’m on a ship! A ship I say, oh fuck, seasick) like panadeine fortes or complete lack of anything helpful like with over-the-counter medication. They just take the pain away, leaving me able to function.

    So to run out of them, knowing that it will be at least a month before I can see my EDSy doctor, it leaves me a little stressed. The same way running out of baby wipes, asthma medication or anti-nausea tablets does. I know that I’ll be okay in the event of a bad dislocation, hell, I’ll just cry a lot until it reduces, but that doesn’t help the panicky ‘oh fuck’ feeling that I’ve got.

    See, the dislocations, they aren’t rare. If I’ve not had a bad one for a week, I know one is coming, which then triggers the anxiety over it, which then triggers the panic attacks and then it’s a vicious cycle.

    Not fun.

    My period is due. Of course, I will now most likely be telling you that my period is due for another 2 weeks, seeing as how my body can never work out whether it wants to bleed every 29 days or every 42. Stupid fucking thing. I can tell you that I ovulated (how do you know? I can hear you screaming – well I went from okay-ish to nauseous and floppy-as-fuck in a day, always a clear sign that my progesterone is on the rise) and that my body is gearing up to drown me, but I couldn’t tell you exactly when that’s going to happen. My request would be sooner rather than later please.

    Of course, my period being due means that I am going to bend, flex and dislocate all over the place until I bleed enough to drown a small country, curl up and die from cramps and then come right again, only to start the whole process again.

    [As a side note: Yes, I am going to see my GP to discuss endometriosis and other assorted fun gynecological disorders. The pain and screaming of last cycle convinced me of that. She will also prescribe more tramadol, more anti-nausea tablets and other stuff. Luckily I can just get baby wipes from the supermarket without a prescription, so I don't need to panic about those for too long. Thank GOD.]

    The floppiness always leaves me exhausted. It takes twice as much effort to walk and move, to pick the children up and change nappies. When I feel like this I spend a lot of time just laying on the floor with them, playing. Really it’s resting, but they think we’re playing and it’s easy, so we’re going to go with playing.

    So bleh. I’m sore and I’m exhausted. I’ve got a lack of pain meds and an excess of insomnia. Yay me.

    Heh.

    Posted in EDS.

  21. I’ve been a lazy blogger.

    Remember, months and months ago, I used to post every day? Do you remember that? I bet some of you are breathing a sigh of relief that I don’t do that anymore. I gave it up in favour of quality over quantity.

    However, it seems when I stop forcing myself to write every day, I look back at the end of the month and wonder how I managed to get so few posts together.

    It’s harder now, I’m splitting my time between three different blogs (this one, Veronica Foale and My food blog, in case you’ve been busy like me lately) and I’m running shorter on time. I’ve also found another thirty or so new blogs that I like reading and added them to my reader.

    Anyway.

    Today I logged into my reader, after sort of glancing at it for the last few days and gulped. Lots of new posts in there. Lots of people I want to keep up with. I’m not sure if I actually have the time to click through to everyone though.

    So here is your chance. If you’ve written something in the last fortnight or so and you think I haven’t seen it (you’re probably right), leave me a comment here with your link and I’ll click over and check it out. Promise.

    ***

    We’re in the countdown to Christmas here.

    Tinsel hangs garlanded around the edges of the house. Pretty beads drape themselves from spare nails, hung willy nilly everywhere, threatening to decapitate me in the middle of the night.

    Isaac spends a lot of time looking warily at the tinsel, wondering if it is going to eat him while he sleeps.

    We don’t have a tree up though. We’ve been busy and lazy and haven’t gotten around to it.

    Do you think I could borrow one of Kelley’s? I hear she has hundreds.

    ***

    Geneticist appointment:

    Question:

    Do you think the children have Ehlers Danlos?

    Answer:

    Isaac: definitely, very hypermobile, bruises easily,  happy to diagnose because his skin tears.

    Amy: shows signs, very hypermobile, very bruised, very stretchy skin, however no dislocations yet, or skin tears that I can remember. Probably. Bring her back in two years for another clinical examination.

    Until then, he is writing me letters of diagnosis for Isaac and a letter to be given to Amy’s school when she starts (in 13 or so months) to say that she has clinical signs and no, her mother doesn’t beat her, please ignore the bruises she is sporting.

    I call that a good appointment, considering in children, most doctors refuse to diagnose until they’re thirteen.

    ***

    Okay, confession time.

    I don’t have time to respond to every one’s comments via email anymore.

    So please, if I suddenly stop emailing you after you’ve commented, don’t stress that you’ve upset me! You haven’t, I’m just having to cut back on time expenditures. If you ask me a direct question, I will probably still answer you, otherwise check back on the blog because I will answer in comments.

    I hate those blogs, you know the ones, where the author never responds, never visits you back and doesn’t comment in their own comments. I don’t want to be a blogger like that. If I’m not emailing responses, likely you’ll see me in the comment section alongside you.

    Of course, if you email me outright I will respond, every single time. It’s only polite.

    ***

    So um, that’s me.

    Of course, half the reason I’ve been absent is due to a trilogy of books that sucked me in. If you like fantasy novels, I highly recommend Cecilia Dart-Thornton’s The Bitterbynde Trilogy. It is very very good. Curl up on the couch and read for 3 days straight type good.

    Now I’ve got to hunt down some of her other work to immerse myself in.

    Yay.

    Oh! Also! Kristen, over at Wanderlust, she is collecting flags on a little widget thingy. She is a little manic about it (in a good way), so if you live somewhere ‘out of the normal’ click over to her and let the widget find your flag. Or tell your friends in different countries to do it.

    Posted in EDS, Life.

  22. Talking about my period.

    AKA Too much information, so uh, walk away now if you’re one of my male readers.

    ****

    Today is day #5 of my period and I’ve bled through 3 pairs of underwear already today. Despite using tampons sized the equivalent of a small nation.

    Last night I bled through another 3 pairs of underwear and 2 pairs of pajama bottoms. I was still awake every hour to go to the toilet. Yesterday I bled through a tampon, a full sized maternity pad AND 3 panty liners I’d put on underneath the maternity pad just in case. That was within an hour.

    I’d just like to say a giant fuck you to my uterus. Not only is it trying to take over my body with the stabby pain, but it wants to leave it’s mark on everything. At this point I’m scared to cough, just in case I drown.

    I’m thinking I need to rename it the Pit of Despair.

    Apparently, when you’ve not had a period for oh… 9 months or something, when it happens, it’s like the flood gates open and away goes everything you thought you knew about your body. Hell, this bleeding is heavier than the bleeding I had after pushing a decently sized baby out of my vagina. Only without the ‘grazing’ (I refuse to acknowledge that it’s grazing. Cheese gratering was what it felt like).

    We won’t even talk about what happens when I feed Isaac and my uterus uses it as an excuse to clamp down and leave me curled up in a tiny little puddle of pain.

    Stupid uterus.

    We’re also not talking about my EDS while I’m bleeding. Needless to say I feel sort of like a rag doll. A shaken rag doll.

    On the upside, I now have an excuse to buy new underwear. I’ve thrown out nearly a dozen pairs so far.

    Heh.

    Posted in EDS.

  23. The post in which I get a little anxious and maybe go a little insane. It’s fun being me.

    We had a Paediatric appointment today, for the children. We left with a barrage of referrals for various specialists.

    In no particular order,

    - A referral for both children to see a Geneticist and be officially diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

    -A referral for an Opthamologist to have their eyes tested, as EDS can cause eye issues.

    -A referral for them to see a Paediatric Physiotherapist so that we can help prevent problems before they occur, as well as making sure Isaac is developing at a normal rate.

    - A referral for Isaac to have allergy testing to try and hunt down the cause of his weeping bleeding eczema, that incidentally cleared up when we stopped eating all gluten. So we’re suspecting gluten is the cause, but testing to pin that down.

    -A referral for Amy to have an ECG to establish a Mitral Valve baseline.

    And finally, last but by no means least,

    - A referral for Amy to have testing done for Coeliacs Disease.

    It’s that last one that has me wandering around muttering ohgodohgodohgod. Because to test for Coeliacs Disease, she needs to be eating gluten for 3 weeks before the blood test is done.

    The blood test is scheduled in 3 weeks. She had her first piece of bread today.

    I’m fucking terrified. Do you have any idea how bad it is here when Amy is eating gluten? She has meltdowns and tantrums and ohmyfuckinggod.

    Three weeks.

    I can’t shake the feeling that three days into this, they’ll be admitting me to a nice quiet padded room somewhere.

    Saying I’m terrified is an understatement.

    She’s not a nice kid when she’s eating gluten.

    Scratch that, she’s a demon hell child when she’s eating gluten. Her eyes glow red and her head spins and she screeches with a voice that could make small animals die.

    This is not going to be a highlight of my life.

    On the upside, bread! And dip! And like, bread! And stuff.

    Posted in EDS, Food-Issues, Headfuck.

  24. Feeling Supported

    Even thought my GP had doubts about it helping, I went and saw a new physiotherapist the other day. My other physio, if you remember, set me adrift, slightly overwhelmed with how extensive my EDS is. She was nice about it, but it was a letting go and I was left floating along, not really sure where to turn.

    The new physio, she’s had training in dealing with hypermobility. She knows what Ehlers Danlos is and while I don’t think she’s treated a case before, she knows how to.

    My point is, she’s experienced.

    Which incidentally, is exactly what I needed.

    She pointed out that my proprioception is pretty awful [apparently I've got feet and if I don't think about them, they bend really strangely without me noticing] and that I’ve learnt how to cheat in order to stand up without falling over [trick: constantly focus my eyes on only one thing].The proprioception thing explains why I can’t sleep in the dark and why trying to walk in the dark is like trying to walk across a pitching ship deck.

    She had me stand on one foot and close my eyes. At which point I promptly fell over. It wasn’t a big deal, I was standing supported by bars at the time, so it was more of a wobble, eyes springing open and both feet on the ground than an actual fall.

    I walk … strangely. Like a ballet dancer, all toes and along the outside of my feet. Funnily enough, I’d never noticed. See above re: proprioception.

    I’ve been referred off to a podatrist in order to get orthotics fitted. She seems to think that straightening up my feet should help with my hip and knee problems. I agree. Which um, why did no one else think to mention that maybe my hip problems are caused by my feet?

    I’ve been given two minor exercises to practise as often as I can. And before you start thinking that 2 isn’t much, by the time I’ve stood on each foot for 20 seconds and looked around [to try and help my proprioception, the looking is to stop me cheating], I’m exhausted. I have to sit down and recup.

    Which you know, mostly sucks. But in the long run it will help, so I’m standing on one foot and looking around lots. I sort of look like a carnival clown.

    I mentioned the children and she thought that physio for them was going to be the best thing I could do. She has a hypermobile son, so she understood where I was coming from when I spoke about how worried I am about Isaac [coming up in a later blog post: listen to me worry about my son. lots].

    I left the appointment feeling supported. Like she knew exactly what she was doing and that everything she was doing was going to be in my best interests.

    She understood me and where I was coming from.

    It’s been a long time since a medical professional gave me that.

    Posted in EDS.

  25. Useless Books

    There is a bookshelf in my house. It reaches to the roof, tall and thin. It sits in a corner of the dining room, slightly wobbly but bolted to the wall to stop it falling over.

    My father made this bookshelf, a few years ago, for Nan. He made it to cover a useless doorway, boarded over on the outside but visible and ugly on the inside. Shortly after it was installed it was filled with books, top to bottom. I used to stand and peruse the books, picking them up, hefting their weight in my hands, stroking their binding and then curling up with one to read.

    Then Nan died.

    And this bookshelf; the bookshelf my father made, got moved into my dining room along with all it’s books. The bottom four shelves still contain her books. Books that I used to read of a weekend, books she loaned me, books she was reading in the hospital before she died.

    I can’t touch them. I can’t bring myself to stroke their spines anymore, let alone pick one up read it. There’s too much there, too many memories.

    I look at the bookshelves and I have to walk away and remind myself to breathe. My stress levels rise and I start to shake. I have to walk away, leaving the books untouched and the stories unread.

    I know it will get easier.

    But.

    Until then, it just sits there.

    In the corner.

    Wobbling.

    ***

    I’m starting to get a little bitter. My anger is rising to the surface. Things haven’t been made easy for Mum and I in the last three months and there is still so much work left. The jobs stretch out on front of us, marking time until the house is sold. It’s never ending and never easy.

    It’s been …. stressful. To say the least.

    I’m a little bitter.

    ***

    My shoulder clicks back into position before promptly falling out of it’s socket again. Electric signals sent down my fingers with alarming regularity reminds me that it doesn’t work properly, not anymore.

    For that matter, neither do I.

    ***

    Lileya from In The Fringes wrote:

    There is a fine line between trying to look on the bright side and putting on a happy act.

    and that is so true. That line, resonates within me.

    Too often I put on a happy act.

    I’m not okay. I’m sick and tired and my joints hurt and nothing stays put anymore. I’m grieving still. A lot.

    And I’m sick and fucking tired of having my grief mean nothing because she was ‘only’ my grandmother. I’m sick of having my pain discounted because you can’t understand it.

    I miss her everyday.

    My joints dislocate everyday.

    Every. Single. Day.

    So fuck you Anyonetoblog. No really, fuck you. You can’t be bothered to see my side of it? I can’t be bothered to be nice anymore.

    Posted in Cancer, EDS, Grief, Headfuck.



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