Twas the morn of endo

Twas the morning of endo

And all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Not even a louse.

The kind buried deep inside

The caverns of thy bowel

Who knows what’s it’s name

To be extricated via trowel.

I digress to my gardening

Terms instead of “incision”

For to bear more pain, discomfort

Is not something I can envision.

So to sleep, aye to dream

Via chemistry or exhaustion lo

We soon will have answers

Perhaps by time of ho, ho, ho!

Will this be a blessing

In disguise as gone before

Suffering giving birth to hope

We shall pray as inside goes the scope.

For H. Pylori messes the axis

Of the gut with the brain

And causes problems like mine:

Seizures on top of stomach pain.

Could this be the work of the Lord,

The prayers at once coming true?

Oh heck at least the deep snooze

Will be sweet on this Tues.

The Chips Under the Bed

They should be alright after about a week in the heat, right?  Ugh.

Usually when “the bus driver” and I come home from a camping trip, we empty the travel trailer of all food that very night.  Of course it may be 3 in the morning but it all comes out nonetheless.  Not this time.  This time was very different.  The unopened bags of chips are still in the storage compartment underneath the bed and we have been home for SIX DAYS!  Gratefully the ants on the driveway have not found them yet!

I really don’t know where to begin to tell the story of our attempt to bring a family member here from out of State to visit, to maybe live with us.  This was a huge undertaking for all three of us:  a journey that began over 6 months ago that was actually cancelled the first time around.  Perhaps it will be best to unpack the situation in a few blog posts over time as I begin to recover from what was largely a failure.  But there is good news:  my Aunt is healthier, stronger, more mentally sharp, conversant, happier, and overall functioning significantly better than when my hubby, Steve, and I picked her up in Florida 8 days ago.  As for me, not so much.

Last night was one of the most horrific scenes of recent memory.  After a total of 12 hours finally getting some errands done with a late night Doctor appointment too, I had the most frightening convulsive episode imaginable.  My threshold of reactivity had been plummeting with each passing day that my Aunt was travelling or living with us.  We had taken extreme mold avoidance procedures and she was wearing all new clothing that I had specially prepared for her.  Her belongings from Florida were cleaned and secured in plastic storage bins in our garage; only doubly-freezer-bagged supplements and medication were in the house in a remote closet.  She lived in an inadequately  maintained and moldy living environment laden with the fragrances that most women like.  We took extreme measures with her stuff but never considered the detoxing of her body to be the toxin most noxious to me; her skin scent reflected several different problems beyond hygiene and no amount of bathing or washing of linens/clothing was helping me fast enough.  I crashed fast.  She, on the other hand, (in our very clean and climate-controlled home with exceedingly healthy meals, rest, and loved ones nearby) quickly regained skills and energies she had lost in the past year.

I was unpacking groceries from our local Meier when an odd feeling hit me.  The warning signs that I learned to recognize in the past when at my sickest with this complex/biotoxin illness had changed.  The odd symptoms ramped up so quickly into involuntary full-body shaking episodes that I barely had a time to get to a safe position to prevent injury.  These kinds of episodes are very dangerous!  So I was standing in front of a counter filled with plastic bags of groceries when my eyes drew in to close and all I could do was kind of lean-and-cling to the edge of the refrigerator as the convulsions began.  They went on and on for at least 20 minutes until my husband would discover me and carry me to the bedroom.  The repetitive oscillations injured my spine from one end to the other.  I could not move my body and was terrified of falling.  Trying to relieve the cramp in my right calf triggered a rebound, a worsening of the episode.  I just held on . . .

Things were no better once lying down.  The involuntary shaking traumatized my neck and my body temperature began to drop.  I could not speak when I needed to and breathing was difficult.  Time either stood still or passed along quickly, I have no idea which one.  I couldn’t even cry out my angst until much later.  Then the visual anomalies began of swirling shadowy circles on the ceiling of our bedroom.  Steve left and returned a couple of times as he tried to help figure out just what caused this and more importantly, what to do to make it stop.  He sniffed my clothing and found them to be musty.  That discovery pointed to my hours trying to get special requests for everyone at the grocery store — a water-damaged building that was problematic for me before their remodeling.  I guess it is still a problem!  My Beloved removed my soiled clothing and the amplitude of the shakes lessened.  But by then the weird, demonic-like writhing and vocalizations had already begun.  It is terrifying to endure this hell.  I prayed for the Lord to take me.  I searched for the white lights but did not find any.  Three hours went by before I could function again . . . what was left of me, that is.

Repeated biotoxin exposures had lowered my threshold of reactivity.  I was at the lowest point, last night, after doing significantly better these past 5 months.  Looking back it all makes sense:  cumulative exposures began when helping my Aunt for five hours on each of two days to do laundry and then pack for this trip in her moldy State of Florida.  It rains there every day now and she has had water damage in her condo several times without remediation.  I wore a charcoal mask during our time there but the conditions were still unbearable.  (Even Steve agreed and had some symptoms.)  Have you ever had to wear a mask in 90 degree heat and humidity while doing physical and emotionally exhausting work?  I had a stress rash on my chest, at least 12 irritated mosquito bites, soreness from dental adjustments from my Craniomandibular Specialist in town, and to deal with a cognitively impaired and severely anxious family member who still struggles in facing her brain disease.  The process was exceedingly painful, frustrating, exhausting.

In another post I will outline the procedures that we used to attempt to implement extreme mold avoidance to be able to care for a family member in crisis.  We simply could not leave her in Florida any longer.  For today, I am grateful that I did survive last night because I got to see a miracle in action.  No, it’s not only the organic lime corn chips that are alright tonight.  I am completely exhausted yet stable and have not had any episodes since she left our home around 10:00 p.m. (and I cleaned, tossed bed linens and other things out of course).  This is the first time I have been stable in 4 nights.  The miracle is that when I was able to get out of bed at 5:00 p.m., my Aunt’s friend from Michigan had arrived and was sitting with her on our patio outside.  Well hello Dean!  He was offering to drive her back home to Florida.  While I disagree with many aspects of this arrangement, I was in no position to decline a solution that could help stabilize me:  her now former caregiver in crisis.  She left with him after some dinner, some packing, some very sad goodbyes.  Our visit wasn’t supposed to end this way!

Aunt Lori with Dean at Dinner 7.12.18

Looks like the chips and me are going to be fine in a little while (as the bags are still out there in the Camplite in the driveway).  Steve is grateful for the possibility of a full night of sleep.  We shall recover.  I am grieved that things didn’t work out with my family member and for the torture I had to endure trying to care for her.  I am glad that we could give her the gift of renewed health; that I discovered where I am at with this ongoing illness; and that our Lord is there to carry us, to act, to make His presence known no matter how hot things get in our lives.  Please join me in praying for my Aunt.  Dean won’t be staying with her very long and . . . I had to let her go from our care.

JJ

Our God Reigns!

Seeing this sweet perching of morning doves is such a mixed blessing this morning.  They are able to sit there because yesterday I was able to cut down the massive out branching of a clematis from lower on the trellis.  Also washed the flagstone patio of dirt and some algae.  I should have worn a mask for both projects.  Acute sickness and violent convulsive episodes followed within the hour and at the beginning of a sweet Skype call with my hubby’s son and family.  So sad.
However, the experience was diagnostic in that I am dealing with biotoxin illness now more than anything else.  Also I am tolerating targeted treatments for this for the first time in 4 of these 5 1/2 years of illness.  Lord willing, I am going to get well!
Gentle Reader, let the morning doves portray the hope that I have each new day in my Lord and Savior,  Jesus Christ.  No matter what may come, our God reigns!  Very fitting the week before Easter don’t you think?

JJ 

Treatment Update

outnumbered

The concept of negative numbers to me is as mind-boggling as that of anti-matter.  If something can be measured on an integer scale then I suppose the values could go up just as easily as they could go down.  But when they go below zero, which is nothing, how can anything be less than nothing?

Perhaps the answer depends upon to what subject the scale is being applied.  Ha!  I would love for my personal scale of symptoms to be at zero.  I would love for the intangibles wreaking havoc in my life to be less than nothing as well.  But that is just not how it is.  This past Fall was very bad, indeed.

More days this past Fall than any other time since I got sick over 4 years ago, did I write “Sick Day” on my calendar as the activity that characterized the entire day.  That means that over 8 daytime hours were spent in bed due to an inability to perform any goal-directed activity:  about 3 days each week.  That stinks.  I had three trips to the emergency room when exasperated with noxious symptoms, more variety in the traumatic nature of seizure attack episodes, an increase in triggers of episodes (which were unclear more of the time), and less ability to perform my activities of daily living.  Steve had to physically care for me (from toileting to feeding) about four times each week.  This year was the first time that I was unable to complete both my Spring and Fall clean-up chores for our gardens.  An occasional meal out with Steve has ceased.  There even was a blow-up with my Doc in which he suggested I might work with someone else.  He admitted that he doesn’t know what to do.  Fine.  But who else would that be?

So here is my status:

  • Results of blood tests and stool tests are now pending to identify microbes that may be keeping me from getting well.  Flare of systemic Candida is one possibility.
  • Chronic Lyme disease is back on my radar as a possibility so for these first two items I have started to take an anti-microbial supplement every day.
  • Mercury burden is significantly reduced yet its role in ongoing illness is still unclear.
  • Dehydration is a daily battle regardless of how many fluids I ingest or receive via IV.
  • Continuous daily seizure attacks total 2 to 5 hours every weekday and often increase to 8 hours at least one day per week.
  • Social isolation continues to be a problem.  I am grateful for a weekly Skype Bible/prayer time with fellow bloggers and may add a telephone support group soon.
  • An extremely restricted diet (sugar/sweetener-free, dairy/mold/gluten-free, low oxalate/copper/meat) only becomes more restrictive as time goes on than more permissive.  There are often episodes after eating and I do not know why.
  • Physical therapy has generally helped to reduce neck and other pain yet the 30-minute convulsive episode at the end of nearly every visit is burdensome.  I bring my own sheets and graciously they avoid fragrances around me.  They are saints!
  • Generally I am only able to leave the house for medical appointments, grocery shopping, etc. twice per week, remaining homebound the other days.  Recent exceptions:  two wakes!
  • Physical exercises and activities, including my P.T. home exercise program, are rare due the likelihood of triggering episodes.
  • Travelling, even with our super clean travel trailer, increases sickness too much to bother for awhile.  Setting it up takes me 3 weeks and cleaning it afterwards takes 3 weeks as well!  Oy vey.

So now my pity party is over and I have nothing left to say.  I am praying constantly for the Lord to keep my heart from bitterness yet I fear that I am losing the battle.  Crying comes forcefully during the setbacks and I am concerned that it is more a manifestation of illness progressed to my brain than true grief.  My husband Steve carries the burden of all of this in his own way.  He is a saint and my hero.  Thankfully he has a great support network at church and work, his athletic activities, and lots of social outlets to keep him going.  Steve is an amazing man surely one after the Lord’s own heart.

I am hopeful that the anti-microbial treatment will help me; sometimes it even stops the episodes.  Yeah God.  However I am very stressed about the upcoming holidays.  Maybe there will be a “Christmas miracle” at our house too?  Lord willing, the numbers in my life will improve in a positive direction.  In the meantime I will be hanging tough.  It’s the best I can do.  JJ

senior numbers

Let the numbers tell this story

While the numbers in my college statistics courses were fascinating and I applied them well in my Master’s thesis, I must admit that math was never really my forte.  I’ll blame it on Mr. Courtright!  Our Algebra II/Trigonometry course in high school was a constant source of frustration!  John and a couple of the other male students would pour over the text book with him at the front of the room trying to understand the lessons he was supposed to be teaching that day.  Yeah, you got that right:  high school seniors trying to figure out advanced mathematics on the fly!  I am so very glad that I never again had to sit through a traditional math class after that one!

Statistics are a different genre though.  Statistics often tell a story that we can use to make sense out of the stuff of life.  For example, landing one standard deviation from the mean (the average) in a bell-shaped curve can help us feel like things are going to be o.k. most of the time, in the right scenario of course!  Enter here special numerals applied to my recent trip with Steve to Georgia and South Carolina that will tell this story better than I can even without a calculator!  Oh how I wish some of these were more comforting than the majority of them though . . .

Over 7 days of camping in 2 locations, I was unable to leave the travel trailer 3 of the days due to illness.

My beloved Steve attended 2 of the 3 family wedding-related activities in Georgia and I attended zero.

We travelled over 2,000 miles in my truck with our 67-pound German shepherd, Elle, settled sweetly behind the jump seat of the King Cab.  Such a great traveler she has become!

I prepared about 96% of all of my own meals making this trip more of a “business as usual” affair than vacation in the realm of food.

One hour of the five that I spent in our friends’ home on Monday was spent in continuous convulsive episodes on their couch.  Thankfully the two young children had already gone off to bed when I crashed; graciously the three adults prayed over me for the Lord’s tender care as we all go forward from the significant stressors in our lives.

The kids and I planted 32 daffodil bulbs the morning we left South Carolina, overplanted with dozens of anise hyssop seeds.  Hooray!  By Springtime the view from the kitchen window of their log cabin will be alive with flowers interspersed amongst the numerous towering pines.

daffodils, mini daffodils, buttercup flowers, Spring flowers

A threatening wind storm with gusts up to 40 MPH forced us to leave a day early for safety towing our Camplite on the highways to get back home.  Just a few minutes after we arrived home at 4:00 a.m., the winds increased again closer to the estimate of 50 MPH by morning.  We had blown in just in time, praise the Lord!

Nearly 4 days have passed since we got home and I have yet to clear out, clean out the rest of the trailer as needed after a week of travel.  Steve completed the first 5 loads of laundry and about 3 more are left to go.  I have been sick in bed for most of the past 3 days, sleeping in late to recover from the nasties which characterize this wretched illness.

Over a dozen doses of a new anti-microbial treatment (Biocidin LSF) have brought both relief and a flare up of symptoms at times:  begun when travelling and continued back home when seeking a new direction, new relief, new hope for a future without illness.  Two violent convulsive episodes followed on Friday after an appointment with a new specialist and a new lab test, respectively.  Many more filled the 2 days that followed.  Perhaps this week (and 2 weeks shy of the 4-year anniversary of the first waking seizure attack) there will be an answer to end this suffering?  The odds are wearing thin lately for sure.

Yet through it all, I am reminded of the 3 days that my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ died and paid the price for all the negative numbers, the heartaches from what is not right in our world.  He knows the mathematics of it all greater than I can ever imagine and holds it all tenderly in the palms of His hands, ready to redeem it for good when He comes again in glory.  I choose to believe the promise that His precious thoughts towards me and you too, Gentle Reader, outnumber the grains of sand on the earth (Psalm139), giving us hope for a better tomorrow.  For as He thinks fondly of the ones He loves, He also promises to wipe away our every tear someday (Rev 21:4) when the time is right:  when time is no longer numbered in eternity with our Heavenly Father, God.

And that my friend is a story worth writing about.  A world without limits.  A love beyond measure.  I just hope that when all is said and done, when it is time for rejoicing in the heavenly realms, that you will be there with me there too?  Let not these numbers be wasted!  Won’t you accept the love of Christ into your heart this day, this night too?  Oh how I hope so dear one.

With love, JJ