(no subject)

I've been getting a lot of spam comments over the past month. I guess it's my own fault because I've been lurking rather than writing.

I welcome relevant comments, and even irrelevant comments from friends.

I don't welcome SPAM.

Just felt I had to get that off my chest.
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The wind has changed...

I woke up on Thursday morning and I had shrunk a dress size overnight. Better yet, I could move fairly freely: it's nice to not struggle to dry your own feet after a shower!

The slightly worrying part is where all that water went... back into the organs where it was supposed to be rather than sloshing around where it was not wanted, I'm guessing.

I tried standing on my dodgy leg and it was a lot less dodgy.  I may even be able to increase the repeats on my exercises.

So, weird neuro shit has passed or is passing for the time being.

Thank you for the various expressions of support and concern that have been made.  


Your leg-bone's connected to...

 ...pretty much everything, I discover.

My hip muscle issues continue, and may even have worsened due to having some inflammatory processes occuring at the moment. My immune system is on hyper-alert for snot bugs and is mobilising everything it has. I'm guessing civilian casualties are occurring but, hey, I don't have a cold this week.

Yesterday I visited physio again and we discovered that my knee tendons are (temporarily?) buggered, my foot needed strapping because the arch is (temporarily?) buggered and my back was in spasm from being recruited to hold my leg on.  The back spasm was so bad that when I asked: "How are you finding the sore spots first go?" my physio said, "Er, I can see muscles bunched under the skin with my naked eye the spasms are so bad..."  It, as you might have guessed, is kind of (temporarily?) buggered.

Pain.  Yep.

Bad night's sleep.  (Sleep?! Hah!!!)  Can you get reflux from pain, I wonder or was that just the bonus extra feature? Or just part of the whole inflammation *thing*?

hey, I broke the cycle

 It's no longer the first week of May, and so I can report proudly that I DON'T HAVE A BOIL ON MY BUM.

The reason for the exultation is that for the past 2 years, in the first week of May I have.  It is about this time of year that my immune system, overwhelmed by summer followed by work, followed by the first of the cold weather, collapses in a heap and wibbles until spring.

So go me.

Part of the improvement I put down to Body's Shop's Tea-Tree Shine Control Oil Free Moisturiser.  A dab of that on my underarms keeps things infection-free.  I tend to put the crystal rock over the top as well, because the oil alone doesn't keep the BO away.  But the two together work a treat and help with keeping your clothes nicer too.

EDIT:  "underarm" is not a euphemism - I got boils under the arms before boils... elsewhere.

I highly recommend the Tea Tree Oil to any sportsperson you know, especially smelly medjeeval fighters, for instance... 

I keep the pityriasis under control using Pevaryl lotion each month or so as well - at the first sign of a break-out.  I don't like the chemical smell much, but you wear it overnight and wash it off in the morning, so it could be worse.

I also moisturise more than I used to. Keeping your skin happy keeps your immune system happy.


With any chronic illness, courage is a necessity. When we need it most, it feels like its least available.

I've been going through a very good patch vis-a-vis courage.  My hopes and my determination have been high.

Then I had a funky couple of days with pain I'd describe as low-grade... until I realised that it was taking 2 Mersyndol Forte tablets to keep it under control.  Think of a migraine... in your leg.  It was combined with flu-like symptoms (muscle ache, fatigue, fever) on top of a head cold.  Yummy (not).

What do I need my courage for?  For keeping feeling like "me" when I feel like crap.  It's so easy to distance myself from my pain or discomfort or illness by saying, effectively, "this is not me, I am not this...thing."

When I feel that rejection in myself, I see it in EVERYONE else.  

Objectively, some of that rejection is there, from some folks, some of the time.  It only stings when it backs up what I - or my inner critic - is saying.

Today, immediately after a discussion about how my rehab exercises were going, during which Mr Physio approved my approach over the past week, he began to do some deep tissue work.  When I started to get reflux and my eyes teared up, I told him it was too much and asked him to ease off.  He did, but said (lightly), "You ARE a delicate petal, aren't you, moocow".

I didn't know how to respond so I just ignored it.
Not in a "wow, you meant to say I have very active trigger points in that muscle group and it soooo came out wrong" kind of way.  
Or even a, "what a putz are you - where did you leave your bedside manner this morning?"
Or even a straight: "What did you mean by that?" 

More in a "think I'll stress about this unconsciously for the next couple of hours" kind of way.

Why do I care? I care because I took his meaning to be supportive of my own damn internal dialogue.  The one that whispers I'm feeble and useless and this is all just in my head - despite any amount of clinical evidence to the contrary.  The insidious voices are always ready to tear me down.

I need my courage to be myself. To remain authentic in the face of the inner whisper. Then I can be real with the rest of the world too.  Because I always have a choice in how I can react, but when people press our buttons (accidentally or on purpose) it doesn't feel like we have a choice.

Brain & Butt

My post on my neuro review disappeared into the ether.  Here's the edited highlights: neuro review went off well. No new lesion load, and even a bit of repair of some of the migraine-related smatters. I'll see Mr Neuro in a year if nothing comes up in the meantime.

I have some spinal degeneration too - C5 & C6 are not in good shape, and have bony spurs (aka osteophytes), quite big ones I'm given to understand.  Some online research shows these may or may not cause pain, weakness and parasthesia.  In some cases they cause problems with the lower limbs even though they really should only affect the upper limbs.  Also, some people have quite bad degeneration and no symptoms.  LIke most things with my body, its not going to be simple and straightforward.

With that, and the right thigh pain being worse, I thought it might be useful to go see my fabulous physio.  Collapse )

It's that time of year again...

My annual review of stuff is coming up.  MRI this week, with visit to Neuro after Easter.

Collapse )
My shrink and I are working on "how do I want to be & behave when weird neuro shit happens?"  Depending on how unusual the symptom is, and how well the rest of my life is going, my response varies from semi-indifferent amusement (ah, there I go again with the weirdness... never mind it will go away soon or even whoa, how cool is that?! did the earth just move for you too?) to a wobbly lip and "oh gods, my legs feel so weak I may fall down, what if this is it, the end of walking forever?!" (at which point I talk to myself sternly for being such a Drama Queen, but it is a slight possibility which is what gives the fear so much potency).  I hope to further improve my managing uncertainty with grace and aplomb.  Sufficient unto the day and all that.

If there is any news, I will post here.  There probably won't be, except continue to wait and see.  You know you're in denial when you don't really want to know.  Just now I feel mostly ok, so part of me fears the MRi will light up like a Christmas Tree.  After all, when I was as sick as a horse, my MRI showed only the fruit loop and a couple of possible other lesions.  That's not my overall response, just the little corner of paranoia, my own personal Murphy.

(no subject)

 So I had this migraine last night, right.  Out of nowhere, pain.  Took drugs.  All good.  But this morning when I woke up I was feeling like the bottom of a birdcage... really yuk.  I was also stressing about the massively behind editing work that was waiting for me to pull a Spectacular on it.

Then I realised... if I wasn't expecting myself to pull a Spectacular, I'd feel relatively ok.  Ok enough to potter around (after cleaning my teeth, of course).

So I decided to drift back to sleep as I dearly wanted to do.  And I woke up at 9am, and I pottered.  And I did a bit of desultory errand running, and then around 2pm I settled down to work.

And I got more done than I expected to.

I had recently noticed that the stress of disappointing others or failing in my promises was more of an issue than I had realised. This confirms it.


 "The strange thing was, everyone was saying I was so brave. I thought no, if I’d admitted to wearing a French maid’s outfit and dancing around churchyards, that would be brave, and admitting to liking Harry Potter would be suicidal, but saying I’ve got Alzheimer’s—it’s not like you do anything bad to get it, so I can’t quite put my finger on it." (full article here)

Well said, Mr Pratchett - and the same goes for Multiple Sclerosis too.