In This Storm

On the heels of such joy,
tragedy struck the Steven Curtis Chapman family.

Meet Maria Sue Chapman (2003-2008) HERE.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice,
and weep with those who weep.”
Romans 12:15

No words of my own to add.

While I am glad that changes in diet have alleviated the pain of endometriosis for some friends, I’m kind of in this mindset of the less stress on our lifestyle at the moment, the better.  Prove to me something will work (and not with anecdotal evidence), and I will try it.

Otherwise, as we aren’t regularly eating Twinkies for breakfast and Ho-Ho’s for lunch, we’ll basically stick with what we’re doing for the moment.

But, being insecure in myself, I needed to hear from someone else that this was okay.

So, how about a renowned endometriosis expert?

In an interview at WebMD, Dr. David Redwine, M.D. said this about endometriosis and diet:

“There is no specific diet that is helpful for endometriosis pain, although there was one study several years ago showing that diets higher in gamma lineolic acids (fish) may help reduce symptoms for some. The only known cure for endometriosis is excision. It can’t be cured with diet.”

So, while I will refresh my supply of fish oil and perhaps look into other sources of gamma lineolic acids, I’m not going whole hog into changing our pantry and refrigerator contents at the moment.

I’m truly glad that dietary change has worked for *some* people.

And I am so sorry for the people who were told it would, and yet, it didn’t.

Because when you spend so much of your life in pain, the last thing you need is one more roller coaster ride of “Do this and *then* you’ll feel better…”

Let alone, “Well, *this* worked for *me*.”

And A Note To Those Who Suffer~

My friend, if you suffer, I am so sorry.

I cannot say I know exactly what you have been through.

Even if we have the same disease.

I cannot say I know exactly the impact endometriosis, or migraine, or chronic fatigue syndrome, or fibromyalgia, or pospartum depression, or recurring depression, or any other disorder or disease has had on your life.

I cannot say anything other than this:

I am so sorry.

I can say I will pray for you.

And I will.

But even that doesn’t help the hurt - be it physical or emotional, or both - does it?

I know.

I “get” that.

So all I will say is this:

I’m sorry.

And if I ever start a preaching about any one of those conditions, or anything else, TELL. ME.

Please?

First time someone suggested adrenal fatigue as that which ails me, or a portion of it anyway, she was someone who knows about it from personal experience. Not her own, but from watching her dad suffer from the effects of adrenal failure. So there’s a possibility there is something to this; I’m not saying this isn’t it.

And then the nurse practitioner I met with at a local compounding pharmacy suggested this could be a problem. And she recommended saliva testing.

Really. expensive. saliva. testing.

I dutifully purchased the test kit.

Took it home to show my annoyed-because-we-already-spent-$150-for-the-consult-alone husband.

And spent too much time one Sunday spitting into little vials.

Froze them.

And mailed them off.

Not surprisingly, the nurse called me last week to tell me my results were in and they are certainly consistent with adrenal fatigue - though we need the other lab results from the nutty “physician” I saw last week doctor I thought was going to be my new physician to map out a plan.

But you know, and truly this has nothing to do with me and my beef, I am losing “faith” in all of this alternative/holistic medicine… Not that I ever really had a lot of “faith” in it from the start…

I do, however, trust my girls’ pediatrician implicitly. I’ve heard from other professionals that this man is a genius.

It isn’t just me. My husband likes him quite well, too, which is saying a lot. Not because my husband is hard to please.  My husband doesn’t spend a lot of time in doctors’ offices so he just tends not to form especially strong opinions about doctors one way or the other. Anyway, you already know how much I love this guy. The pediatrician, that is. My husband, too, of course. But I’m singing the praises of my girls’ pediatrician at the moment.

Anyway.

Dr. Blakey is very much “into” integrative medicine. Let’s get the “whole picture.” Let’s dot all our i’s and cross all our t’s with the labs. And then we can try proven and proven-to-be-safe supplements before bringing in the “big guns” or to supplement their use. But he’s never going to let us walk out of the office without an antibiotic if the girls need one and he’s always going to refer us to a specialist if he’s not 100% sure on something. (Hence our oldest having a longer list of specialists she’s seen than I do. So far.)

So Dr. Blakey’s advice holds a lot of weight around here. And one of the places he always recommends I check anything alternative out is DrWeil.com. So I do.

And here’s what the good doctor, Weil that is, had to say about saliva testing in answer to a question this past October:

“Saliva testing is not a reliable method of assessing levels of any hormone.” [emphasis mine]

Which is kind of what I was already thinking.

When I was $150 richer.

Or, in our case, $150 not so poor.

I have another one of these test kits sitting here to fill up in another week or so to test estrogen, progesterone, etc. Thankfully, I don’t have to pay anything for that one until I send it in.

With my check for another $150.

Heh.

I’m thinking: Maybe NOT.

If this is adrenal fatigue, I’ll leave it to my “team” of conservative medical professionals to figure it out.

(Wow. If you read here in the first hour or so after I posted that, well, wow. You’re probably thinking adrenal fatigue is the least of my worries. Put down the bottle, Kari. I have no idea how my sentences ended up discombobulated like that. But at least I can spell discombobulated. Or at least spell check thinks so.)

Not a House-ism, though clearly a play on words of his normal “Everybody lies”, that’s the line which most spoke to me in the House, M.D. season finale last night:

“Everybody dies.”

It’s plain and simple truth.

A truth for which too many people are ill-prepared.

As Jim Eliott was known to say:

“When it comes time to die, make sure that all you have to do is die.”

Wondering if you are prepared?
The Message of 3:16

Oh, and while “Everybody dies” was the quote which most spoke to me last night, it *wasn’t* my favorite quote of the night. That *is* a House-ism:

“I had a heart attack this morning. I can’t do any more drugs ’til at least lunch.”

A written re-cap of last night’s episode can be found at the Watching House blog.

And being a geek of great proportions (meaning the proportion of geekness to non in my brain and life…no comments on my waistline…) I had to go hunting until I really *understood* this whole issue of the Amantadine poisoning which led to Amber’s death. I found Polite Dissent which has medical reviews of each episode.

In the review for “Wilson’s Heart,” last night’s finale, Scott explains:

“The writers are correct in that Amantadine is poorly cleared by dialysis, and there have been deaths reported on the medication. The dose for the flu is 100MG twice a day. The only size pill Amantadine comes in is 100MG, so Amber taking two means that she was overdosing herself on it, so she bears some of the blame for this.”

Thanks, Scott! Very helpful!

I’ve probably mentioned that before.

But then, I am just “coming off” several days of either multiple migraine attacks or a migraine attack with prolonged aura….so I may or may not know what I’m talking about. This neurological stuff is such fun. *grin*

Do let me say: I am so thankful to at least finally be talking about this stuff in my head and having a neurologist say, “Yeah, it could very well be migraine…” rather than thinking to myself that I have a brain tumor…which is what I did for the greater part of four years.

And…I am a better writer during migraine attacks. Go figure.

And…that anger I so often battle: Not. Really. Anger.

But that’s an entire post in and of itself.

For now:

Much. To. Do.

I may write well during migraine attacks.

And a lot.

(I only write well because:

1. I can sit very, very still except for my hands, and
2. I *don’t* usually have headaches during attacks. (*If* I sit very, very still.))

Housework, on the other hand… Yikes!

As soon as I start moving around the pressure in my head and face, on the right side of my head, builds and builds and builds.

So, while I try to do something about the house that is falling down around me before my sister stops by on Wednesday and an Organizer comes to help clear out the Dungeon on Friday, you can chew on this thought:

“Migraine has now been shown to be a genetic neurological disease characterized by flare-ups often called “Migraine attacks.” A headache can be one symptom of a Migraine attack, but it’s just that — one of the possible symptoms. Some Migraineurs (people with Migraine disease) have Migraine attacks without having a headache.” Read More HERE.
~What Is a Migraine? Migraine is a genetic neurological disease…From About.com

Among my own regular migraine symptoms (without getting into the four stages of the attack for the moment) are:

• Food Cravings (especially chocolate). Seriously.
• Digestion issues. (That’s all I’m saying.).
• Mood changes: depression, irritability, *rage*.
• Muscle stiffness in my neck.
• Fatigue in the early stages. Post headache - almost euphoric at times.
• Water retention in the early stages.
• Visual symptoms: transient blurred vision, phosphenes.
• Olfactory hallucinations.
• Reduced sensation on right side of the body - numbness especially of the face and tongue.
• Word finding difficulty (especially if the attacks “cluster”).
• Hearing impairment.
• Hypersensitivity to sounds.
• Hypersensitivity to light.
• Pressure, and occasionally intense pain, almost always on the right side - especially at the temple, in the jaw, around the ear, and around the eye.
• Nausea.
• Nasal congestion early; runny nose in the latter parts.
• Hot flashes.

There are other issues, probably… When I am thinking more clearly later I’ll review that list.

During January and February I had many symptoms not listed here that could very well have been related to migraine. (Possibly Basilar Type Migraine according to my neurologist.) This makes a lot of sense to me since they were clearly episodic.

If you are interested in more Migraine Info, some of the best online info I have found is listed under the “Migraine” link on my sidebar.

An excellent visual of what might be happening during a migraine attack HERE.

My monthly cycles began at 11.

I don’t remember when the cramps began, but it was something like thirteen seconds after menarche.

I just didn’t feel *good*.

Or *right*.

But how is an eleven-year-old supposed to know what’s “normal” when most women don’t know what’s *really* “normal” pain during a period?

At one point in time a family member led me to believe cramps were *my* fault because of my diet and lack of exercise. Whether she said it outright I don’t remember. I clearly remember the implication though.

She was wrong.

I haven’t had the “gold-standard” laprascopy yet to prove it, but it was probably the beginnings of endometriosis.

The lack of exercise didn’t help.

And my diet didn’t help.

(Though let’s be honest — a twelve, thirteen, fourteen-year-old with crazy mood swings and wild cravings left to her own devices most of the time and dependent upon what’s in the house at the moment doesn’t always make the best choices…she wants to feel better and sometimes, sad as it sounds, Twinkies may make said girl feel better at some strange level….)

But having symptoms of endometriosis was not my fault.

Indeed, having endo, if I do, was not my fault.

It just *was*.

But no one knew.

(A note for any readers who might occasionally take their own health for granted and even, unknowingly get a little self-righteous about it: I seriously could have done without the guilt laid on me by someone I adored.)

(Not to self for future reference: A twelve, thirteen, fourteen year-old girl needs a heating pad, some tender words, and heaps of loving kindness. She needs healthy food in the pantry and refrigerator that she can just grab when she feels horrid. Even better - some wholesome and healthy soup brought to her on a tray with a molasses cookies on the side. And much affection…)

Everyone has always told me I had a low tolerance for pain. Even back before middle school. I am beginning to believe that maybe I have actually always had a relatively high tolerance for pain and perhaps no one had any idea how much pain I was experiencing. Not that they didn’t care, but maybe they really didn’t have any idea.

By the time I was a senior in high school the monthly cramps were just something that were a part of my life. I might not do anything social during that time of the month, but school was my sanctuary and I vastly preferred being miserable at school to being miserable at home. Since I never threw up with my cramps (thank you Lord for such an unnecessary kindness), I went. But I spent lots of “free periods” and “lunch periods” sitting in dark, unused band practice rooms.

When I was seventeen I had a bunionectomy (exostectomy and Myerson/Ludloff osteotomy). It was the most painful experience of my life. (I will, quite honestly, wear horribly ugly shoes or go barefoot the rest of my life before anyone will touch my other bunion.)

I always measure the amount of pain I am in compared to the days following that surgery. If the bunionectomy was a ten (more like eleven) on a scale of one to ten, my first experience of childbirth was an eight altogether. Though blessedly short, the second was a nine. Except when the pain broke through the epidural (I’m told that can happen when you go from 3 to 10 cm in an hour and a half) on one side of my body, and then it was probably a ten for about forty-five minutes.

Why talk about foot surgery in this post about endo? Because it was then that I learned a trick for managing my monthly pain with OTC meds. It truly changed my life for the better. For a few years anyway.

My doctor prescribed something for the pain after surgery. I don’t remember what it was, but it made me loopy. Remember how invested I was in school? Well, this was my senior year and I didn’t want to miss a minute of it, in pain or not. The pain was too great to get out of bed without the meds, but I couldn’t hobble up and down flights of stairs at school loopy. (I’ve never been very coordinated unmedicated.)

The same doctor also shared an OTC remedy with me: Advil. Four Advil at a time - but no more than sixteen in twenty-four hours. And only for the very worst of pain. I distinctly remember him writing the number “16″ on a pad of paper and circling it. (Now, I am not recommending this to *anyone* and it has been years since I took so much medication without doctor’s orders.) But at the time, I got a little slice of my life back

I recovered from foot surgery, but once a month I remembered that “magic number 16.”

On the first day or two of my period I would take four Advil at a time if I were at home (it made me sleepy). I could take three and manage to go to school, but even at seventeen and eighteen I knew better than to drive much on that much medicine. (Which is ridiculous in retrospect given I would drive “under the influence” of alcohol… Sorry, Mom… Not your fault… Completely rebellious *me*…)

I continued to use this trick in college. My cramps were getting worse, even with taking birth control pills. (I was a lost soul, still.) But my periods weren’t as heavy and didn’t last as long so I didn’t cramp for as long. Still, I regularly skipped classes monthly and hibernated with my Advil bottle a couple of days each month.

The first time I heard “endometriosis” was as a sophomore in college. My roommate “had endometriosis” and had this loverly bottle of prescription pain meds to take each month. When I asked what endo was she told me it “meant she had bad cramps,” hence being on birth control pills and that much-envied-on-my-part bottle of prescription medication. Even then I remember thinking how ironic it was that *she* had this disease and was taking these meds and *I* was completely laid out several days a month with cramps.

And at the beginning of my junior year I “found Jesus.”

Which is completely inaccurate, because honestly He’d been chasing me for two decades, scooping me up mess after mess, and really it was just that at twenty I fell into a heap on my bottom bunk and simply Gave. Up.

I didn’t *do* anything.

I didn’t “accept” anyone or anything - except for my absolute inability to live life one day longer the way I had been.

I didn’t “ask Jesus into my heart.”

Invite Him to live in me?

I could not resist Him for one moment more.

Asking and inviting seem so proper.

So dignified.

I was not dignified.

I was desperate.

I begged and pleaded: “If you are who you say you are…”

Talk about faith as tiny as a mustard seed.

If I did anything that night it was that I *stopped*.

I stopped fighting.

I stopped trying.

I stopped insisting on my way.

(Sort of. Because honestly, eighteen years later I still struggle with insisting on my way much too often.)

And the next morning, like a newborn opening her eyes for the first time to this world gone crazy, I crawled out of that bottom bunk a new creation and blinked.

And yawned.

I was exhausted.

I was excited.

I was a mess.

But I was a new creation.

I cut apart my fake ID.

And I flushed the birth control pills down the drain.
(Don’t flush those, by the way. Terrible for our water supply.)

But I still had this (what we now realize is probably)
endometriosis…

“…the way endo and related health problems tend to begin in the girl’s puberty, when she is so young and still very much in the process of developing her sense of self, often has devastating consequences for her self-esteem…”

“…Her physical pain is then enveloped with emotional pain, confusion, the sense that she is a bad girl with a problem that shows she is inadequate as a person…”

“As one nurse wrote the association, “Too many physicians make their female patients think their problems are psychological when they aren’t - which becomes almost a self-fulfilling prophecy…It would spare many women’s self-esteem if their doctors would admit they don’t know what’s wrong rather than suggesting psychological causes for physical symptoms.”

Mary Lou Ballweg and The Endometriosis Association,
The Endometriosis Sourcebook.
Lincolnwood, Illinois: Contemporary Books, 1995.

“It is His glory that is at stake when the best grapes are produced, so we need not think He has something personal against us, or has left us wholly to the mercy of His enemy Satan. He is always and forever *for* us.” ~Elisabeth Elliot,
A Path Through Suffering. Ann Arbor, Michigan: Vine Books, 1990.

“While the patience of Job is often spoken of, he has never impressed me as being particularly patient but he was particularly faithful, even though he had none of the New Testament explanations of sufferings (branches must be pruned, thorns are necessary, gold must be refined, we share in the sufferings of Christ, and other reasons, about which more later). To us who have the New Testament, it would seem that Job had very little to go on, yet he kept talking to God.” ~Elisabeth Elliot,
A Path Through Suffering. Ann Arbor, Michigan: Vine Books, 1990.

In light of my startling realization yesterday, my dear husband (who also loves beef) sent me a link to a study which concludes:

“Consuming beef in moderation may be a healthy way in which older adults can preserve muscle mass and decrease the risk of sarcopenia.”

Then there’s this link I found yesterday: Eating Red Meat Will Not Increase Colorectal Cancer Risk, Study Suggests

And my new favorite website: BeefMyths.org

Yikes.

I’m kind of a nut when it comes to physicians.

I’ve had some bad experiences. So bad, in fact, I become a nervous wreck before meeting a new one.

It probably sounds crazy to most people. But I’ve been to a lot of doctors in the past fifteen years and while most have been good at what they do *and* are genuinely nice people, I’ve met some, um, “doozies.”

So here’s where I am freaking out…

As calmly as possible, mind you, because I am supposed to be reducing my stressed-out mindset…

I was told (by a friend) that this new physician of mine is a Christian. Now, I am not (any longer) of the mindset that I only want to see Christian doctors - though I have found it to be a real blessing to do so when I can. But I was expecting one thing when I went in, and now I am not. so. sure…

I just found this little blurb about this physician on the web tonight:

“~~~ has meditated regularly since a child with the encouragement of his grandfather and has been a student of the readings of Edgar Cayce for 20 years.”

I’m not real tickled with the idea of someone meditating. (I mean what I interpret this kind of meditation to be, that is…) But - whatever. I’m not seeing this man for spiritual guidance, right? I would not be the least bit surprised if the girls’ pediatrician is into meditation and the man is both a genius and has an incredible bedside manner with my little ladies. They just get lots of practice witnessing when they are sick. (You only think I am kidding if you don’t know my nine-year-old!)

So - to each his own. Sort of.

Please understand that in the spiritual realm I am not an any-which-way-to-heaven kind of person!

But that Edgar Cayce bit has me a wee bit concerned.

Okay.

A wee bit more than “wee bit.”

A little more research and I learn that Edgar Cayce was supposedly a “sleeping prophet.” And we’re not talking Elijah, Elisha, or Jonah here folks:

“For forty-three years of his adult life, Edgar Cayce demonstrated the uncanny ability to put himself into some kind of self-induced sleep state by lying down on a couch, closing his eyes, and folding his hands over his stomach. This state of relaxation and meditation enabled him to place his mind in contact with all time and space. From this state he could respond to questions as diverse as, “What are the secrets of the universe?” to “How can I remove a wart?” His responses to these questions came to be called “readings” and contain insights so valuable that even to this day individuals have found practical help for everything from maintaining a well-balanced diet and improving human relationships to overcoming life-threatening illnesses and experiencing a closer walk with God.” ~from Edgar Cayce’s ESP: Who He Was,
What He Said, and How it Came True, by Kevin J. Todeschi.

Again - spiritual stuff, okay. I’ll pray for my physician. Deeply. And often.

But I am more than uncomfortable with the readings he gave regarding medical conditions.

“As a result, he has been called “the father of holistic medicine” and has been recognized for describing the workings of the human body and foreseeing the direction of health care.” ~from Edgar Cayce’s ESP: Who He Was, What He Said, and How it Came True, by Kevin J. Todeschi.

Yes, I want a holistic approach to whatever has been bugging me all these years.

But…not from someone who is possibly acquiring their information from a man who would supposedly sleep on textbooks and then gain a photographic memory of them…or from someone who would go into a trance and spout off treatments for anything from warts to cancer…

I mean…does that sound “off” to anyone else out there?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

And truly, this *isn’t* about my red meat, ice cream, or bread. I was slowly adjusting to the idea that someone along the way was going to suggest some really radical changes to my diet.

I’ve just learned to be *really* careful about the doctors I see.

(Not to mention so-called “faith healers.” But that’s another story for another time.)

Okay, dear ones. What would you do?

Feel free to use the contact form if you’d rather not spout off in public…

My new header is courtesy of Heather.

And again:

Wow!

I don’t have time to add the link to my sidebar right now (I’m very slow with widgets and such) but I was too excited to wait to put the header up once Heather gave me the go-ahead. So I’ll link to this amazing woman and friend here for now…

You can find Heather writing and doodling and doing all the things Heather does HERE at An Untraditional Home.

And her work HERE at Zazzle.

And this painting in full HERE at Zazzle.

THANK YOU, HEATHER!!!

As I’ve been saying, that’s what our Spring has sounded like, “Tick!”  “Tick!”  “Tick!”

Apparently, I’m not the only one.  Dear friend, Barbara, has a great primer about ticks and tick bites HERE for worrying mamas like myself.  With a wonderful and much-needed dash of humor.

Mark was right.

Fish, deer, possum, rattlesnake, rabbit, turtle all appear to be on my approved list.

I’m thinking yak’s milk is out, though… Is it white?

Because my new doctor wants me to give up white milk and white milk products.

I’m at one of those points in my life where I am wondering if I really feel bad enough to go to these extremes…

And do I feel good enough to go to these extremes…

I saw my new doctor today, which was quite an experience. But I have little time at the moment for descriptions.

As briefly as possible, I brought home some “diet guidelines” on a paper which specifically says “This is not a diet.” Heh. I though I was overwhelmed and worried about what I could eat earlier this week!

Among the many things I am to avoid - as a lifestyle - are:

• white flour
• white potatoes
• white sugar
• white milk
• fried foods of any kind, especially meats and vegetables
• carbonated drinks or any juice from concentrate
• *cold* drinks of any kids
• shell fish
• red meat
• processed meats

And then there are bunches of things to add in - most of which apparently taste horrible until you adjust. Which I am thinking means until I am so completely famished I am growing faint and will eat anything just to sustain life. At least my doctor was honest.

I realize there are people who live like this all the time.

Wow.

Apparently I am about to embark upon a lifestyle of God alone sustaining me in all ways. Because my diet surely isn’t going to. I can’t even figure out what I am allowed to eat yet.

Except fish, deer, possum, rattlesnake, rabbit, turtle.

Baked.

Not fried.

Grilled is okay, though.

Mm. Mmmmm.

Grilled possum.

I can smell it now.

(I think I am going to be sick.)

But I *can* have sweet potatoes. So perhaps we will simply have sweet potatoes morning, noon, and night until I can figure out what else I am allowed to eat.

More good news is the Gluten Free Diet Dr. C. recommends for me only needs to be followed for a 3-6 week period.

I’m wondering if I could schedule those for 3-6 weeks for when I don’t want to eat anyway.

The surgery coordinator for my gynecologist told me it would take me a bit to get back to eating after my lap. Maybe that would be a good time to look into gluten free…

So, I guess more good news is that I will most assuredly lose weight with this “lifestyle change.” That happens when you stop eating, right?

Even more good new - the good doctor told me I should find ways to decrease stress and anxiety - like writing.

Now would be a good time to adjust your feedreader if you have been considering unsubscribing from this blog. Consider yourself warned.