For life's little ups and downs.

A rather quirky, funny and sometimes daunting look in to the life of someone who has a lot of health problems but does their best to keep positive.

I started this blog to tell my story, about who I am and what I do. I live with 2 mental health problems as well as a disabling and sometimes painful physical problem. This is me. This is my life. I live it and do what I want with it. Nature sets the limitations. We set the boundaries.

About Me:

I am young, caring and a very smiley. I have a lot of wonderful people in my life and these keep me going through the best and worst of times. I live with Bi-Polar Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder as well as Type 1 Brittle Asthma, Various Allergies, Neutropenia, Chronic IBS, Osteo and Rheumatoid Arthritis, PCOS and Osteoporosis. I live with these conditions, but I refuse to let them keep me down and out. I still try and make the most of my days despite being so poorly and having to rely on my wheelchair, nebulisers, nearly 50 pills a day and 2l/min of oxygen.

I went through hell due to bad diagnosis and poor clinical care, and I suffered a lot as a result. I do my blog to tell a story of hope and how a heart full of pain and sadness can find a beautiful light inside. I agreed with Cissnei in Crisis Core when she said that "Wings symbolise freedom for those who have none". I have always dreamed about having a pair of wings and being able to fly away from all of the things that hurt me in life. Sadly many times my wings were clipped or even pulled away and I was left with nothing.

I'll flap my broken wings and erase it all someday... You'll see.

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Going Home

I think one thing that has come from this admission is we know for sure that I do have bronchiectasis and scarring of the airways. This was apparently discovered after my chest CT in March, (yeah, the one that the other team dismissed as "normal" and now it magically shows something...smell that? I smell bullshit from somewhere and I am going to find out who it was and in short, their ass is mine.) and I am already on what would be the best treatments and care needed.

The problem I seem to run in to with the consultant comes from the fact that he has never seen me in the throes of an asthma attack because by the time he can come to see me and review me, I am over the attack and am in that kind of shaky post attack stage where I am either very sleepy or I have started to bounce back. He didn't look much in to my history and was pretty sure that my asthma is very much the same as what I had 10 years ago (I wish!) and he didn't notice the A+E notes, the previous admissions or anything else. I do think that they had the 1st volume of my medical notes which hasn't helped but that then makes me wonder, where my other volumes are. In some ways it's like turning up at the cinema during the last 20 minutes of the film and only getting a small part of what happened. So all he sees is the kind of post attack which makes it hard to determine what my asthma is like day to day. He doesn't see (or have all the same evidence that everyone else has, as I said, a lot happens in 10 years) that I get so breathless day to day so I am glad I'm under a team instead of one doctor.

When the attacks are over, I can have (with assistance) a pretty alright quality of life. I'm not running marathons or partying all night, but I get by. Luckily for me, the other consultant, Dr Lal has seen me during an acute attack, as has Dr Brocklebank (who once attended me in resus and was finally turned around on all of this). The problem a lot of consultants, like my Dr Vathernan, have these days is that because they have so many patients to see, (he didn't remember seeing me in March, but he was there!) and they only see what they see when they see it, it's hard to decide how severe something is off a small chunk of the bigger picture. Sometimes, because I am a really complicated case, it can be hard to take in the whole portrait instead of tiny postage stamp sized portion of the picture. The other thing he seemed so focused on was just how much medication I am on and all he seemed to want to do was reduce and stop things. Luckily he saw the light with the nebulisers and listened when he was told that they work for me, he really wanted me off home nebs but I think after a good long chat, we decided to keep them but I would be best going back to SBAU.

I'm kind of on the last few desperate attempts to regain control. We tried taking me off some meds, which unfortunately didn't go so well. Again, (like a thing we did in SBAU where I was taken off EVERYTHING, stripped down and started again) which I could have told them would happen but I think sometimes they have to see it for themselves. We're trying a new medication called Spiriva. I have never had it before so I am willing to try anything. We did try going back to Seretide for my asthma but honestly, all that achieved was I had a small attack before bed last night which meant that I didn't get a whole lot of sleep really, took us ages to calm it down and by the time we did manage, I was too exhausted to care.  My oxygen has been increased to 1-2l at rest (if we can get it to just 1l at night so that I stay comfortable and breathing easier) and I am going to be assessed by the respiratory nurse to get a special concentrator machine at home, along with my current 6 cans. It was decided earlier that this would be needed but the consultant had a hissy fit because he didn't want to accept that my asthma is brittle, but as the nurse said, it is sometimes a case of his ego gets in the way and being proven wrong annoys him, not to mention his idea that nothing has changed over the last 10 years.

I do have my diagnosis from an asthma specialist. I went through the process of diagnosis years ago and we started from scratch at the SBAU in Birmingham. The one thing I am really struggling to come to terms with is the fact that I have had 2 conflicting diagnosis' on the COPD matter. One person says one thing, another says the opposite. Who do you believe?! Dr Lal, who everyone sings his praises and rightly so because I have been seen by him a few times and he has exacted a lot of positive change in my life, or Dr Vathenan, who everyone is saying has a nasty habit of not listening to people and has in recent years started to become a bit past it. I'll entertain the Spiriva but I really am not seeing much improvement from it and all it has done is dry my mouth and that's it. But I said I would give it a week and I will do just that. I was told by the junior, who was wonderful and listened to me when I got upset about the pain, he said if I didn't feel any better after a week, call the GP and get back on Atrovent. It's all a little confusing to be honest and I was proud that I managed to keep on top of my asthma for 12 weeks (sometimes by the hard way but we got there) and the Jr doctor who has been helping me has agreed that chances are this was a blip on the road and a radical shuffle of my meds has probably caused more harm (or at least more frustration) than good really. Kind of what I said from the start (but what I do I know eh? I only live with these issues day by day, I wonder if doing an "I told you so" dance would be in bad taste?).

I am set to work with respiratory nurses to try and make the best of things but the final say so will come from the consultants. With 2 out of 3 of them on board, I can't see myself running in to any issues and the respiratory nurse agrees with me in that one. I think the main problem is that we can't definitely diagnose asthma or it's severity. Some patients could present one day very well and then at death's door later on. I think I am happy that I am going home tomorrow, the old dear across the way is driving all of us potty because she constantly moans and screams out "Please help me!" and loads of other misc moans can complaints and groans. I know she can't help it, but when you're trying your hardest to sleep at 2AM, you really don't want to have to listen to it, especially when they do what they can for her and all she does is attack them in return.

I was talking to the student nurse today and she told me how the family just dumped her here and refuse to take her away until she goes in to a home. I think when families do things like that it's horrible. It's like they no longer continue to be human beings and are just a nuisance to be "thrown away" just because the family can't be bothered anymore. The unfortunate thing is that they get left on hospital wards where they could pick up infection from anyone/anything and they increase the demand on the nurses as they have to spend more time tending to them as they can be very demanding, again it's not their fault, combative and no matter how hard they try, they can't seem to keep track on all of them, especially the wanderers. The other people this has a knock on effect on is the other patients in the bay. Because of 1 or 2 demanding patients who want to be nursed 1-1 all the time, regardless of whether they need it or not, not to mention the paperwork, the other patients don't get the level of care they need, and if they're a screamer, they sometimes end up keeping the other patients up all night as they don't know they're doing something they shouldn't. I've been cooped up with 3 screamers for the last few days.

One is just confused and sometimes asks us random questions, she's harmless really and every so often you just have to talk to her and it can be quite fun because she likes to talk about her children. We have one who randomly wakes up and asks for help to get out of bed, back in to bed but the nurses are being a bit tough and trying to motivate her to move herself. Again, once shes settled, shes no problem. It's the third one that makes the rest of us on edge (even the two ladies) because any time in the day or night she starts shouting, moaning and crying out, the nurses deal with her but never find any problems. She needs to be in a proper care home, where she can get the 1-1 care she needs, not being left in a hospital where she is obviously in a lot of distress, is scared and is making the others nervous and scared, I feel for her, I really does because all they seem to do is give her meds to help her go to the loo but shes obviously in a lot of pain and is very scared. I really hope they help her to safety and she manages to find a peaceful place to rest.

As for me, I am planning on discharge today (YAY!!) and I will probably call up and get advice regarding Spiriva as I am skeptical, I have needed my inhaler more today, we'll try anyway. We don't know what we can achieve until we try do we? But I can can say that Seretide and I won't be mixing again, just doesn't help me and well, I was kind of annoyed that they made me open a new inhaler to have 1 puff and it do that to me. I took it and this sudden  pain and tightness hit me, before I knew where I was, I was really struggling and needed a lot of nebs to get settled down, so I am back on my Symbicort, so really not a lot has changed but at least we know that I have developed something as well as my asthma so there is more of a reason for my issues now with the bronchietatsis and airway scarring which is unfortunately a forever deal so I have to just do what I can and see where we end up. I can't wait to get home, the care here was great but I am not going to miss the patient going berserk at 4am!

Loves
Wendy xx

Sunday, 17 August 2014

Attitudes?

A recent death of a legendary actor and comedian has really sparked a lot of debate about depression and mental health problems in general. It never ceases to amaze me how suddenly everyone suddenly wants to talk about mental health and encourage those of us who do have a condition to speak out and get the help we need but have either been trying to get (but can't due to NHS budget cuts or social reasons) or have been denied for one reason or another. Mental health matters. It should be taken seriously and there shouldn't be any kind of stigma around admitting it when things are really bad.

It's no secret that I have suffered with mental health problems for many years, ever since I was about 7 years old. I had severe depression as a teenager and ended up having to see a psychiatrist as well as being offered antidepressants at the age of 13 (we never took them because we didn't want me to have to fight a drug addiction as well, it was the right decision at the time) and my adult life has been fraught with mental illnesses. I have been sectioned before (luckily it was only a couple of nights so I could clear my thoughts and get some rest) and I am on a number of medications to help me, including the antipsychotic medication Quetiapine (Seroquel). I suffer with bi-polar disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, borderline personality (schizophrenia) and have battled against eating disorders (at one point, I was just 7 stone and my bones poked out of my skin), self harm and have even made several attempts at suicide. I am not ashamed of this though and I am very open and honest when people ask me about my mental health.

I know there is a stigma about mental health and a lot of us are made to feel ashamed of our conditions. Maybe it stems back to the times when people with these kinds of problems were locked away in prison-like asylums and treated like animals by the "attendants", subjected to cruel "experimental" treatments and generally abused because no one really cared enough to say "Stop it!" I have read stories about how some patients were abandoned by their families and locked away, made to undergo cruel practices like ECT. People who had confessed to alternative sexuality and were made to undergo a "treatment" for it. The things I read were horrifying and it made me wonder if things are really much better for people with mental health problems now? Unfortunately I can't really say as I have only had few dealings with the mental health teams directly, including a crisis team when I was going through a lot all at once and needed help.

I am more experienced in the care of physical illness and often require hospital admission and care. I see a lot of people whose mental health has declined over the years and have developed severe dementia. It isn't their fault and they don't understand what they're doing but I do feel that better provisions should be made to care for the elderly, the senile and those with other mental health problems instead of shoving them on medical wards to run the nurses ragged and be detrimental to the recovery of other patients. The other issue here is that an elderly person on a ward full of sick people is at risk of contracting an infection. It's kind of a cat among the pigeons really.

Some patients don't need to be here and are only here because of "granny dumping", where families take their elderly relatives to A+E and leave them there and refusing to take them away again so they end up stuck on wards, bed blocking. It is one of my pet peeves admittedly because I have seen it so many times and have been stuck on a ward with an old person who doesn't know what they're doing and sometimes they tend to wander, putting themselves in all kinds of danger so the nursing staff have to run around after them instead of caring for other patients. There is a patient on the ward I'm on now, shes been shouting "Nurrrrse!!" and a load of other things (some were rather unpleasant) since 6 this morning, waking everyone in this room up. She kept saying about how she wanted to go and find her children and the poor dear doesn't understand that she is actually in a hospital and she got more and more abusive towards the nurses, especially when they told her to hush up as she had woken up all the other patients.

On MAU, I had a run in with one lady who had decided that my blanket and Sephy were hers and that she had had them from the start, luckily the nurse recognised my belongings and said to her not to touch other people's things. She also had her eye on my tablet and my oxygen bag so I had to hide them away! Her other habit was wandering off so the nurse had to keep a very close eye on her, despite being run ragged by other patients. I felt so sorry for the nurse, she was lovely and she had so much to do all at once. It can't be easy.

I saw the doctor again today, it's funny that years ago, the doctor was my consultant and we didn't really click but now we get on really well and hes really changed his mind around asthma and how it should be managed. He was a bit worried as my chest really played up last night and we had an unsuccessful attempt to reduce the oxygen I am on. We are trying to get me back to my usual flow of 2l via the nasal cannula from the 8l through a mask. We have also added another antibiotic in to the mix and we aren't having issues regarding my lorazepam anymore. I had to explain that I have it as a part of my asthma treatment as it helps to relax the muscles around my airways to stop it all from getting too stiff, the side effect of it though is that it can make very sleepy which can be a problem as I was admitted because of my asthma being a pain. We also added another antibiotic to the mix to help me really fight this infection off, still. The worry was that I coughed up a bit of blood (because of all the coughing, I upset something inside) but they're keeping an eye on me and things should start to move forward soon.

I really hope that everyone else is having a good weekend!

Loves
Wendy xx

Saturday, 16 August 2014

Do YOU Know What to Do?

If you were faced with it, would you know how to deal with an asthma attack? It's something that most people don't have to face and not a lot of people know how to deal with an asthma attack when it happened right in front of them. Shockingly, 9 out of 10 fatal asthma attacks in the UK could have been prevented by better care from medical staff or emergency first aid before the ambulance arrives. Medical staff are complacent when it comes to asthma and it can sometimes be hard to impress upon them when you are having difficulty and getting them to take it seriously (the most common one I have noticed from not only my own, but other people's experiences is that they assume that just because your oxygen saturations are "normal" doesn't mean that your chest isn't tight and you are struggling to breathe, in fact in most cases, SPo2 doesn't drop until the very last minute where things get to "critical" stage). We have had to argue with people to get the right care because people weren't listening to the whole story and only looking at a small part of it.

As I have mentioned previously, my attacks tend to come in stages. Usually you can tell if I am either about to or am starting to have an attack by observing my behaviour. Usually, before an attack, I become very withdrawn and spend more and more time in my room hiding from the world. I become quieter than usual and I tend to leave a "trail" of things I've been doing as I find it hard to keep my interest when my attacks start. I also cough. A lot. And my breathing sounds wheezy and I start gasping for breath because it gets tighter and tighter until I start a nebuliser. Nebulisers at home aren't as common as they used to be, in fact, I am one of a few people in my local area to have one, especially at a young age. The nebuliser machines I have are brilliant pieces of life saving equipment. When I have a nebuliser, I use Salbutamol (Ventolin, blue inhaler) and Ipratropium (Atrovent) every 4 hours. During acute asthma, I have my Ventolin nebs and I usually have a margin of up to 15mg Salbutamol and increase my oxygen slightly to 4l before I have to admit defeat and call for an ambulance. 

Although I avoid hospitals like the plague, not all my experiences have been bad and there have been many times where an admission to hospital has saved my life. As soon as it happens enough, doctors do learn the pattern of your condition and quickly know what's normal and what's not. Even my friends and close ones know what is normal for me and when I am going rapidly downhill and need to either get seen by a doctor or when I have to medicate. Most cases, we can get it settled down with 1 or 2 nebs, maybe some pred and of course pain killers to ensure that my recovery process starts pretty much right away and pain isn't left untreated.

That in itself is a weird one. Not many people appreciate how painful asthma attacks, and the aftermath, can be. If you really look in to the mechanics of it, you are working your muscles hard to try and get the air in, and you do wind up using a lot of muscles that normally wouldn't be used (accessory muscles) around your shoulders, neck, collarbones and your entire ribcage. I have pulled my chest muscles more times than I could count and cracked ribs enough times to know just how uncomfortable it can be, not to mention the pain from the residual inflammation and soreness of your airways after an attack which can be so bad that the only way I can ease it is with lorazepam and morphine (2 very strong drugs which act on the CNS to try and ease pain). So after an attack, it's kind of normal for me to just want to sleep for a while and feel like I've just run 10K.

So, what do you do when someone has an asthma attack? As I said before, I am one of a minority of people who use a home nebuliser so other asthmatics should carry a blue "rescue" inhaler around with them.

1. Try and get the casualty to sit up as much as they can. DON'T lie them down as this can make their breathing harder. Try and get them to take slow and steady breaths.
2. Reassure them. Its a frightening thing to happen so remember to think as scary as it is to a spectator, imagine if you were the one going through it. Listen to them if they tell you something as they have had attacks before and probably know more about whats going on.
3. Get them to take 2 puffs of the "rescue" inhaler.
4. If that doesn't work then get them to take 2 puffs on their inhaler (preferably through a spacer if it's possible) every 2 minutes, up to 10 puffs.
5. If that doesn't ease it or you really are worried or unsure, call 999 and get an ambulance. They often say that they prefer to come out to someone before they get critical than if you leave it too long.

Yesterday I had a lesson in leaving it too long. I kept trying to tell myself I was find and that one more neb would do it. By about 4, it became completely obvious that this wasn't to be the case and I first tried to get a hold of my GP and the receptionist begged me to dial 999 and that's what we did and well I'm not 100% sure what happened but things did get to a "life threatening" state when my oxygen levels suddenly fell and apparently I was in and out of consciousness.  All I really remember was feeling a bit sleepy, and then waking up in one of the resus cubicles hooked up to monitors and machines and with drips everywhere. Scary!! I did probably let it get out of hand because I am just scared of the hospital because some of the experiences of the past. But now I understand how important it is to get help sooner rather than later.

I think that the longer I was away from it, the more I managed to convince myself that this was a bad place. This was a scary place and I was going to be left in pain and not be helped. Nothing was further from the truth which I realised when I had about 3 nurses, 4 doctors and Natt sat to the side urging me on while we all fought. We won the battle but there were talks of ITU and I had the ITU doctor come to see me, problems with getting an ABG from my wrists (4 attempts and even one in my femoral artery, we couldn't get a sample! We had some venous samples but it took several attempts to get my arterial sample!) and my asthma generally refusing to behave itself. It took us a while before I was stable enough to move to a ward but now I am here, I am well and truly on my way to recovery, a bit battered and bruised but I am here and we did win the fight and I'll no doubt live to have many more where that came from.

I guess the next thing I need to do is concentrate on getting better, improve my breathing and infection and then get myself down to my usual 2 litres instead of 8, although I am going to need to keep my wits about me as there is a new patient on this ward, a 94 year old lady who sadly doesn't know whats going on and has already tried to walk off with my Kitty blanket (grrr -MY- Kitty blanket!!), Sephy and my oxygen! Luckily she seems oblivious to my phone and laptop! It isn't her fault but she will probably need supervision so that she doesn't hurt herself (or any other patients) but I know I'll be sleeping with one eye open!

Loves
Wendy xx

Thursday, 14 August 2014

How You Look at Life...

I guess that I have been feeling a bit down about things recently. I do feel tethered sometimes and it is kind of a constant physical reminder of my illness that I have to carry around my bottle in a bag. At first I had the novelty of "Yay! I can breathe again!!" But that has worn off really quickly and in a way it kind of makes me think "Yay, now I can breathe, can I ditch this thing now?!" Which leads me to try and do things that are probably not clever (things like walking around without my cannula on) and as a result I then get annoyed at myself for getting so out of breath! I think the one thing I am going to have to accept now is that I am on oxygen and I need to use it. As I get older, I will probably need more and more, but I can cross that bridge later. For now, I try and stick to using as little as possible (my usual flow is 2l but have been advised to go up to 4l when walking around on bad days, and those bad days do happen) and try and keep myself moving.

It can be tough to accept when you have limitations. Especially when you never really used to have them. I wasn't born with my conditions as bad as they are and they only got worse due to certain circumstances, living in a place where poor hygiene was the order of the day and other things that made it get worse. Perhaps had I not gotten the pneumonia I had when I was 21 (the first one that was in both lungs and on that one night almost killed me) then maybe I would have been better now. I could pick the past apart for hours and point out where things went wrong, but what would it change? Would scrutinising the past obsessively make my life any different or any better? Not really. If anything it would make me more angry that this whole thing happened in the first place. I am trying to take a more pragmatic look on things and instead of thinking "What if...." focusing on "What is."

One simple joy I had forgotten about was sitting at a table and having a proper "sit down" meal with my friends. Sure, we go to the pasty shop or Subway, but there really is something different about the group of us going to a proper restaurant where everyone is dressed nicely and sitting around a table and talking animatedly over a meal. It was really nice because we didn't have the usual distractions, (the food was absolutely delicious!) and we all managed to sit around and just talk about everything and anything. I love going out with people and having those kind of interactions because its the one thing I really miss. I miss going out with friends for a drink, walking around Hanley with Cat and having a drink and lunch at "Spoons". It is one thing that being ill has taken from me and now whenever I do go out, I have to plan everything out and plan medication around everything.

Everything is done in 4 hour chunks as every 4 hours I have nebulisers and pain medication. Around 5 is my second dose of "3 times a day" meds and I tend to do my last nebs and meds around 11pm when I go to sleep. It is a kind of routine and it is important to keep up with it, no matter how much that can interrupt with having a "normal" life. The fact is, without a lot of these meds, I would have died a long time ago and I can't afford to get lazy or complacent about it, even if it is annoying or hard work. It's just one of those things really and when it's done, it's done. I don't mind having to do things like taking my nebs in public anymore or having to take my morphine. Yes people do sometimes stare. And I have been subjected to some rather unpleasant comments but to be honest, its my condition and I am the one who lives with it day to day so no one else should really be allowed to upset me about it and the only person who can stop them from making me feel that way is me. I know my life, I know what it feels like to struggle for breath and I am the one who manages it day to day.

I suppose "normality" is what you want it to be. For me, I just have to remember to take it easy and accept the help I get from the friends who have been so kind and so generous with their time and patience to come over and help with taking care of me. I think it is hard, especially for people who knew me before all this, to be able to help someone when they're weak or feeling unwell. I am thankful to have supportive people around me because without them, I honestly don't know if I would be here today and I just wish I'd reached out earlier really. I guess I didn't because I was scared of what they would have said or what would have happened. It doesn't really matter now, but I would definitely advise others in similar situations to ask for help. I'm not a victim of an abusive partner anymore. I am a survivor.

I think it is all a matter of perspective and how you see yourself. Some days my tank feels like an anchor, other days, its like a jet-pack that makes me able to go and do things. My chair isn't holding me back, it's pushing me forwards. I believe I survived all of the things that happened for a reason, although I am not sure what that reason is sometimes, and I will carry on doing what I can to keep going and keep on living.

Loves
Wendy xx

Monday, 11 August 2014

Reasoning

Its been a bit of a tough weekend for me, my chest has been playing up because of whatever it is that's left it so upset. I'm starting to think that it needs no "reason" to do the things it does but having the confidence to do what I need to (when I need to) is important too, I haven't had to call it yet but earlier, it really started getting close and I was starting to worry. It's not that I have anything personal against it, I just don't always feel confident in the local hospital. After some of the things I have experienced though, who could blame me really?

As I say, the whole place isn't categorically bad as such but as usual one bad apple can taint the rest in the same way that one or two doctors or nurses who aren't, lets say, that good with asthma can make you feel afraid of the whole lot. There were other things that made me fear medical help but I try and forget that because it was one person trying to assert their dominance over me to cover up the lack of control they had in their own life and to be honest, they don't make the slightest difference to me or my life now. I find that it can be frustrating when doctors don't listen to what you're saying or take notice of the symptoms in front of them. It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it can make you feel like a right old fraud and want to walk out. Asthma isn't easy to understand for us who have to live with it, let alone someone who has only really seen it from an outsider's point of view.

The worst treatment experiences I have ever had at the Alexandra Hospital have been on the Medical Assessment Unit, Female ward (MAU F for short). Usually this has been down to the nurses who only care about one or two measurements and don't look at patients as a whole. I had one occasion where I had been feeling unwell and had woken up gripping my side as it was painful only to be told "Just go to sleep." (gee, if it were that easy I wouldn't have woken up in so much pain now would I?!) and there was another occasion where the nurse didn't feel like getting me my night time medication because it was 4 in the morning and she felt that A+E should have done it! I then had to explain to the staff why I was still awake and why I was in pain, the nurse was told that she was wrong but that's not the point is it? Not to mention that traumatic incident last year when I had been left in pain for 12 hours because a nurse practitioner was refusing to do her job and kept crossing off what the doctor prescribed.

The point is, when a patient needs caring for, the nursing staff should do as the doctors say. Another one was when I was prescribed back to back nebulisers (which basically is non stop nebulisers which take about 10 mins each) and after only having 1 in the space of an hour when I should have had more, I spoke to another doctor and asked if I could just use the solution I had in my bag instead! They agreed and said that really they should have been done by the nurses (who were sitting around the nurses station watching YouTube videos) and that I shouldn't have had to do it all for myself. I did put complaints in and they were told off for what they were doing but it does leave a mark on you and it does make you not feel like you can trust the people who you're supposed to trust with your life. I can't fault the staff in A+E, they do a great job despite being overworked and underpaid and the staff on other wards tend to be lovely and helpful but you do still come across the one or two who don't seem all that fussed with patient care.

Last time I was in, I was admitted directly from clinic by my consultant and the next day I was moved off MAU F to another ward (thank goodness) and this admission seemed to have a more positive outcome. Something had to change and I am glad that it did. Admittedly, I wouldn't go as far as to say that I like having oxygen at home, but I like the fact that it has allowed me to do things that before, I never thought I could again. I can go out and do things, enjoy shopping with my friends and even go out and socialise with people again. I feel like I can live what I would call a normal life. One where I'm not struggling to breathe constantly. One where I could walk up to the shop and back without my oxygen on.

We are talking about reasonable goals. Realistic things to aim for. I don't know what is possible and what isn't yet because, well I haven't tried and can't say for sure. Maybe one day I will be able to walk to the corner shop and back without having to rely on my oxygen tank. Maybe one day, I will be able to go in to town without my wheelchair and be able to walk around, even if I have to use a crutch or a stick to do so. I want to make sure that I am as healthy as possible because I have read countless stories about people who get sick and die young, leaving their loved ones in a state of sadness and loss. I never want to do that to the people I care most about. The thought of dying young and leaving the people I love to feel sad makes me feel so unhappy and I realise how selfish giving up really is. When you give up trying to make your life better, you give up on the people who you care about and love the most. In the same way that self harm was a selfish act. I know I won't be running marathons or walking all the way in to town and back. But if I could be able to manage short distances then that would feel like an achievement to me.

The important thing is not getting too disheartened if it doesn't go the way we want. Even if I only see a little improvement in myself in any of this, then at least I'm still trying instead of resigning myself to being stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. If I can, I will get myself back on track and I have the inner strength to stick with it and family and friends to keep me motivated when things get rough, on top of that, I have a boyfriend who makes me feel like anything is possible when I think of him. Having the support of the people close to me is really a reason to keep going and as they haven't given up on me, nor should I because to be honest, giving up and letting yourself be miserable and not changing anything is worse than not doing it because people said you can't. It's all about being honest with yourself and getting to know your condition better than anyone else.

It is better sometimes to think of things in terms of what you CAN do rather than what you can't. For example, I can sit and use my Powerball for about 10 minutes at around 7000rpm. Maybe I can aim for 15 minutes at 7000rpm or 10 minutes at 10,000rpm? I have noticed that I have been able to hold things easier in my right arm, last night I was able to get a mug off the side (something that usually results in shaking and a mess all over the bed and floor) and not spill a drop! That is quite the accomplishment for me. I know it doesn't sound like a lot to anyone else, but the weakness in my arms was becoming something of an issue. When you don't move around too much over time, your body becomes atrophied and weak, as a result, small things become harder to do. It's instinctive that as you find yourself getting breathless and worn out in doing things to stop doing them completely. We all do it. I am trying to counter that because, well, I hate inactivity and want to be able to do things for myself again. Amongst other things.

Sometimes the things we want are the things we need to work for. I lost the weight that I put on through pred and olanzapine and now I really want to tone myself back up. I have been wearing more feminine clothes recently and it has been such a boost to my self esteem. Look in the mirror every day and find at least 1 thing you can like and focus on it. To me that is my hair or my eyes. My skin is glowing (thanks to me drinking more water) and my hair is growing because it's being well cared for. I take pride in how I look and when I go out, that self pride and confidence really shows. After all, if I can't respect myself, how can I expect someone else to?

If you walk around town, unwashed and uncaring of your appearance then you deserve to have people shout horrible things at you, I'm not saying that everyone should be vain, but I think people should make sure they look at least halfway decent before going out, and washing is just part of this whole "personal hygiene" deal. Personal hygiene is important to me anyway. I can't be around someone if they stink and don't take care of themselves. It shows little pride and care in yourself to at least make sure you're in clean clothes, have washed and aren't crawling with who knows what. It's coming up to that time of year when the kids are crawling with lice and as they're going back to school soon which means that lice are going to be everywhere so we'll need to take more care to avoid it.

Loves
Wendy xx

Friday, 8 August 2014

Mixed Week

It's been a kind of mixed few days for me, most of which have been due to sounding more like Darth Vader when I try to breathe than a person. My chest seems to be really, for lack of a better word, heavy and painful and I can't work out why that is. Maybe it is just the weather or maybe its the infection causing me a bit of bother, I'm not sure though. Usually this kind of thing goes one way and I don't stay in this kind of purgatory state for too long (usually its 1-2 days and then it all progresses at once) but this one is slow and intent on taking it's time. I think I have been feeling like this for about a week and it hasn't really changed too much. Yet.

It isn't helped that right now I am struggling to get a decent amount of sleep. I go to bed and then get woken up several times in the night either for nebs, inhalers or pain meds. That in itself can leave you tired but what seems to really be getting to me is that right now there are some major contract works going on in my street. The council are replacing all the roofs in the close. That and the kids being off school and running up and down squealing like pigs doesn't help sometimes. I know kids are kids and you can't really get too angry with them, I just wish they would stop squealing because it is the kind of sound that goes through you. As for the builders, I am sure they are going to be done soon, but I really wish they wouldn't start at 7am every morning! At least they have finished the loud part on the flats over the way, the sound of shingles shattering and breaking away is not something you want to wake up to.

The girls are adapting to life as outdoor bunnies. In the winter I'll move them to the shed by the door but for now, they seem happy enough in the cage in the garden. Riza is still a grumpy old thing and doesn't really like human interaction very much. That's alright though, her daughters are the company she likes best it seems. Of course when people come and go, they do come over and say hello and lick fingers through the bars. However, I have agreed to adopt a young male guinea pig who is in desperate need of a "forever home". Something I am more than happy to provide to any animal, I can't turn away a pig who needs to be loved and looked after, never have been able to. I fall for their charms I think.  I love their little personalities and characters and I have never met any two who were alike. They all have their charms and I think they're the kind of pet I can keep and not have to worry about. All they ask is food, love and company. I do talk to my pets and sometimes I treat them like children, in some ways, they are like my children. The first guinea pig I had as an adult, Patch, left his pawprints on me and well he reminded me just how great these little animals are.

That little creature gave me such friendship and comfort during some of the rough parts of my life. He used to make me feel loved even when I was struggling to even like myself. I see that picture of us together, one of my favourite pictures actually. He would be waiting for me when I got back from college (when I was at room 7, I used to come in the front door and by the time I got up the second lot of stairs he was wheeking madly!). He would be excited to see me when I had been in hospital and would greet me with a happy squeak until he was allowed to cuddle with me. I even had him trained to squeak when I needed my inhaler/nebs and he even learned to bring them to me. When I was sad, he was there with a paw to hold and comfort me with, when I was scared I could talk to him. When things were hard, he was my friend, not just a subservient pet, but a real life companion. When his cagemate, Alphonse got ill and sadly passed, he did everything he could to make me smile when I was crying and then when the new pigs came, he accepted and loved them so that they could settle in well. I cried for nearly a week when Patch died, my old gentle giant but hes never been forgotten. From his fuzzy nose to his soft fluffy bottom, I will cherish the time we had together.

There are many things I really like about guinea pigs. They're such affectionate little things and they never seem to mind being cuddled and loved. Actually, they tend to love you back! My pets are well cared for and loved and it's something unconditional on both sides. Tenzou is getting old now but hes got more friendly as time goes on. He just doesn't seem too happy with having Bumble and Tigger following him and giving a rather quick rumble his way. When they rumble it is quite funny to watch because of the way they do it. There hasn't been any scrapping luckily but there is often a bit of a rumble before they settle down in a heap together. Bumble is yet to learn that he isn't the "alpha" of the pack and I think he has the same problem that all small things get, that kind of "Small in size, huge in attitude" thing. We think Tigger is the brains of the outfit, or at least we think he is. He often tries his hardest to escape from the cage when hes out in the garden to go and have a nibble in the long grass. They are funny to keep, especially when they're running around and popcorning. Unless you have watched guinea pigs popcorning, it is hard to explain how this sudden spurt of happiness looks. It's kind of like all their limbs jump out in different directions and they jump right up in the air. It is a sign of almost uncontainable happiness. Little Chucky is a little sweetheart really, hes very well socialised with humans and although he had a squee at me to start with, he soon settled down and nuzzled up to me, falling asleep in my lap eventually. He's already made friends with the other pigs and has been caged with Tenzou. He is a handsome little chappy and seems very happy to settle down with people for cuddles and to have a chatter. I make no bones about it. I am a crazy guinea pig lady. It's kind of like a crazy cat lady but with guinea pigs. But honestly, who can blame me, they're lovely little creatures and my pets really help me when I feel flat and tired.
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I am hoping that soon my body will settle in to some kind of baseline. It has been really up and down and well I find the whole thing a bit frustrating at the best of times. Then again, I would be hard pressed to find anyone who would enjoy this. And if I found someone like that, then chances are, I would probably find them rather pathetic frankly. I have come across some people with what I call "Treatment Envy", they see what treatment I have and decided that not only do I not need it as much as they do, but they actually WANT to be in my state and actively go out to make themselves seem like they're worse off, or people who are jealous of someone who has a condition and wants to play the "I'm more ill than you..." game. Seriously, it isn't a contest to see who has more illnesses than who and who is more ill and these people really ought to grow up. I never asked for what I have. I never wanted to or aimed to become like this and I am doing my utmost to try and get better. Even if that means having to do some hard work like walking around the house when I feel less than up to it or doing countless treatments and therapies to get the best out of life. No effort, no improvement and then what do we have left? Nothing.

On the other side of it though are people who are ignorant, although it doesn't happen as much to me as it used to, especially when it comes to people like my friend Natt whose handicaps are invisible. When he isn't using his stick, you would never know he had the conditions he has, I won't talk about them here openly as it isn't my place and I actually respect other people's right to privacy. I find how my friend takes it all in his stride pretty amazing though because he doesn't seem to let things stop him and that in itself is an admirable quality in a person. The determination and conviction to do what ever it takes to do what ever he wants.  People can be quite unfair when they try and square up to us and make us feel intimidated because we're "too young" to have problems. I can tell you here and now that there really is no such thing as too young when it comes to sickness. And just because you can't see it, doesn't make it not there.

I am trying to learn from that example because frankly, I could sit around all day feeling sorry for myself and it really wouldn't change anything. I would still be the way I am and I would still have to deal with things. Instead, I choose to just get on and do what ever I feel I want to do at the time. Whether it's hanging out with my friends, playing cards at the club or just chilling out in my room, I make sure I am having fun at least because knowing that you could be on limit means that you really do want to make the most of life and you do want to make every day count, even if you probably should stay inside and rest!

Enjoy life. Make it in to something (and yourself, someone) worth remembering.

Loves
Wendy xx


Thursday, 17 July 2014

Can Do!

Looking back, I remember what life was like when I started this blog. I remember how miserable I was, stuck in a shabby YMCA flat, barely able to go out due to my chest getting tight and wheezy and feeling like a prisoner in my own home. I hated it. I hated myself. I gave up in the end and started dressing only in huge shirts and hoodies. I gave up on life and I think that if I had carried on that way for much longer, I would have ended it because I really felt like there was no hope. No reason to keep going. No one was helping me at the time, partially because I didn't know who to ask, and I was still running around after other people, cooking and cleaning when I couldn't even stand up properly due to my sore back or breathe properly. I wasn't sleeping because of the noise from other flats (sometimes it was like living next to one night club and below another) and after a 13 week "course" at the Job Centre, I was so driven down that I couldn't carry on looking for work and have been on ESA ever since due to my physical and mental health respectively.

Those "courses" the Job Centre send you on are a waste of time and money. You go in for two days a week and you have to sit in a room with other people (often the concept of "intelligent conversation" was "'Ere! D'ya watch Big Brother?" and then you sit filling in inane worksheets about job hunting (the whole thing repeats every few weeks so you do it all at least twice) and then when you finally get let out, you're totally burned out and it is frankly depressing. My physical health has slowly become more of a barrier towards working. It isn't that I wouldn't want to, it's just that now I can't work. I can't guarantee where I'll be from day to day, whether or not I am going to be in hospital or not, and can barely walk from my bed to the toilet on the worst days. I am oxygen dependent and have to use my powered wheelchair to get around. The reason for this decline in recent years has been just because of the illness I have and the fact that like all lung disease, it does tend to deteriorate as you get older but it had a lot of important factors which made that happen faster. There's not a lot we can do at the moment, so I try my best to keep positive and hope that things will one day improve. After I had an attack in front of my advisor we knew it was time I went to ESA. Life on ESA is good. I'm never short of anything and as it's topped up by extra components as well as DLA, I like to think my life is comfortable and a lot easier. The best bit though is not having to sign on at the dole office every 2 weeks! I do get a bit bored and antsy though after sitting around all day every day or being confined to my bed.

My life is a far cry from what it was. I hated my old life and by the end of it, I was almost ready to give up because I had convinced myself that no man would want me and as a result, I had no confidence and well, its hard to move on and forget about what someone used to do to you when you have to live with the effects for the rest of your life. Don't get me wrong, I owe my illness for making me a stronger person emotionally and showing me how much I can push through, but if someone offered me a fresh pair of lungs which would work and mean I'm not weighed down with an oxygen tank anchor, I would go for it. No question.

I probably shouldn't have gone out today, but I desperately needed to break the boredom. I've been confined to my bed as my infection is starting to kick back at me. I've been bringing up more thick green stuff and it seems to get stickier as days go by. But so long as I keep my chin up and keep going, we will beat it. I may be connected to an oxygen tank, but I have a "can do" attitude!

Loves
Wendy xx

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