Grammie's Double Whammy

It's been awhile. Did you miss me, I wonder?  I've been drifting about on the clouds of memory fog and forgetfulness that accompany conditions like psoriatic arthritis and fibromyalgia. (My family gets a kick out of my loopiness.) The plethora of doctor appointments and hospital stays have kept me pretty occupied, as well. Since autoimmune dysfunction assaulted my life, I have come to accept most things as they appear with much less stress than before. Perhaps time heals. Now if I could just remember to schedule that massage... Having been diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis in 2014, I am much more invested in the reality of this disease now. I have read, asked questions, written, researched, traveled and cried. Knowing what I know now, I wish I wouldn't have been so hard on myself. A gift from my daughter, Alesha, may have been the the gentle nudge I needed to truly realize this. She gave me a rose bush for Mothers Day the same year I was diagnosed with psoriatic ar...

As my husband facilitates ideas to make my life easier in the house , I have been adjusting and attempting to modify my attitude. May 5th marks one year since my Rhuematologist officially diagnosed me with PsA. The Fibromyalgia determination came just two months ago. Being pronounced with autoimmune diseases is kind of like running a race without a finish line. I spent a long time trying to find out what was causing the pain and fatigue, only to discover there would never be a means to an end.  Thus begins a process much like grief:   Denial - Much like when I was diagnosed with depression, I just shook my head when it began to soak in that I had an autoimmune disease. So much so, that I refused to take the meds and began reading everything I could get my hands on that would discredit the diagnosis. Methotrexate? No, thank you. A chemo medicine for arthritis? Are you crazy? The realization that my doctor might be correct in his conclusions just spiraled into a slow burn...

I remember sitting with my counselor, Elaine, on a bitterly cold day, during the winter of 2014. I had been experiencing ankle and foot pain for almost a year at that point and I was not handling things very well. Since I had yet to be diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis, I was confused and frustrated by my physical limitations.  I was no longer working and I was completely exhausted all of the time. My big accomplishment of the day was getting out of bed,  getting dressed and making it into Elaine's cozy office that  morning.  Sitting on her couch with tears in my eyes, I described the daunting  task of housework, especially my struggles with laundry. Since the washer and dryer are in the basement, I had to gather everything from the main floor, bring it downstairs to be washed, dried and folded and then carry it back upstairs. Living in our home since 2003, this had never been a problem for me. Now, it was literally impossible. I felt guilty. My husband ...

I am married to an incredible human being. I know. He's my husband and you would expect me to say that, right? Well,you have no idea...Steve has supported my hopes and dreams since before he married me. I am still in awe of his commitment to all that makes Ellie happy... Support is an extraordinary process. A living,breathing and consistent example of love and dedication. I certainly consider it as important as any therapy or remedy I may utilize to manage and live with Depression, Psoriasis and Psoriatic Arthritis. Perhaps even more important. When I was diagnosed with Clinical Depression at 30 years old, it was probably not a surprise for Steve. He had been living with my undiagnosed monster for eleven years. Thus began a journey of meds and therapy he did not sign up for. Still...he  loved me. As I drowned in sorrow after a miscarriage on the heels of this diagnosis, Steve stayed right next to me. He just knew it was him, not words,I needed. I was a...

One week before my third Remicade infusion, I went to see my Rhuematoligist.I wanted to ask him some questions about my Psoriatic Arthritis,and the length of time I may have to wait until the infusions began to work. I explained that I was experiencing more pain in new places, including my left elbow, arm and shoulder. The pain was chronic and overwhelming and I couldn't understand why I was getting worse. After an extensive overview of all my symptoms, my doctor examined all of my joints, while asking about the specifics along the way. He touched certain points on my neck and back that just about sent me through the roof! This was a bit alarming to me. Although I had been experiencing overall pain and malaise, I was stunned to realize those certain points were so painful. Folding his arms, Dr. Patel stepped back and paused. His diagnosis saturated my being with a cloak of misunderstanding. Fibromyalga. What? How is that possible? I already have two autoimmune diseases that ...

My high school friend,  Valerie, recently posted a comment on my Facebook page. She suggested that I was brave for sharing my story. I had to pause. When I think of bravery, I see images of firefighters running into burning buildings to save people. I am certainly not brave. Or am I? Sara Bareilles sings a song titled Brave. It is a favorite of mine that I have loved, since the moment I heard it. But I don't believe I ever really listened to what she was trying to say in the lyrics.  After contemplating Valerie's post, and revisiting the song and its video, my interpretation of her point is much clearer. And at such an important time in my life. Speak your truth and be brave. OK. I guess I'm brave. I literally feel like a new woman. Thank you, Valerie! Sharing my story and vulnerabilities is courageous. I know this because stories about people who have conquered their demons have resonated with me in a remarkable way. Telling a personal story exposes your pa...

I know. It has been a long time. Having spent the last few months angry, optimistic, irritated and hopeful, I am moving on. I have made dietary changes and incorporated new ideas into an overall wellness protocol. I still struggle with gluten free. This subject deserves some time, so I will save it for another post. Organic produce and grass fed meats have been an easy switch, thanks to this wonderful part of the country I live in. Exercise has only been in therapy form with limitations, due to a ruptured Achilles tendon and Plantar Fasciitis . A recumbent bike (thank you to my husband) in my living room has been a welcome addition to the process. The first ride in December was a difficult 3 minutes. This week, I am up to 30 minutes. Mental Health is still a struggle. After being robbed of the effective Pristiq, I have since been on the generic for Cymbalta. Now I spin the hamster wheel on the generic for Effexor (I hate insurance companies). Sunshine and movement ...

When I was initially diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis, my rheumatologist prescribed Methotrexate for my condition. He explained that it was an older drug with lots of history and there was a 40% chance that it could help me. Continuing, my doctor told me that he would prefer prescribing Humira for my PsA. After looking into my blank stare, he proceeded to tell me why he would prescribe me a drug he had so little confidence in. It seems many insurance companies are more interested in the bottom line (big surprise) than my overall suffering, therefore, I must try the Methotrexate and a similar class of drugs before trying the biologic medications that he found more successful. Did you know Methotrexate is used to treat cancer? Read more here. I spent several weeks researching this drug and it's potential side effects. I was stressed out and overwhelmed by the idea of taking a drug used for chemotherapy. I knew my hair could fall out and according to the National Institute of Heal...

Seventeen years old. Graduating High School. The world at me feet....and an irritated, itchy, red, I'm gonna-tear-my-head-off scalp. Ugh. I thought maybe I had dandruff. I went to a drug store and bought Head and Shoulders shampoo. Certainly that would clear up the problem. Not so much. I tried Selsun Blue . Ok. I guess I will try something else. The 80's dandruff solutions were pretty slim pick ins and the itching had become ridiculous, so I made an appointment with my doctor.  Psoriasis. What the heck is Psoriasis? How did I get it? My doctor suggested this skin condition may be genetic and that I had too much stress in my life. My scalp had become so itchy as I began college, so I figured it must be stress. After all, I had just experienced an infamous right of passage and it was an exciting time. Maybe "good" stress could make this happen. My quest began. In the past 29 years I have tried many things to relieve stress. Acupuncture, deep breathing, exercis...