Post by loyhargil on Nov 29, 2010 9:03:55 GMT -8
So, some of you probably already know me from the snopes board, and this is going to be repetitive.
I'm a 38-year-old mother of two, and was just diagnosed with fibro late this summer. Initially I went to a rheumatologist about a year ago, who did a tender point test and said I had enough tender points to qualify, but I was probably just "fat and didn't sleep enough." A--hole.
After finally relaying this to my primary care physician, he re-did the tender point test, survived my nearly elbowing him in the ribs from a reflexive action to a tender point, and started me on medication. We still have some sorting to do with the meds, but we'll get there.
I'm kind of no stranger to pain, though. But anything I went through as a kid never really prepared me for fibro.
As a little kid, I had intense kidney problems they could never diagnose. One kidney swelled to the size of two, leading one doctor to think, until they did an x-ray, I might have a third kidney. That eventually resolved itself, and to this day, we have no idea what happened. But it caused years of kidney and bladder infections until about second grade. (Didn't stunt my growth, though, since I'm 5'10".)
On top of that, as a child I had arthritid in my knees. At 11, I grew six inches in nine months and developed Osgood Schlatter's disease. Sure, let's hike up the knee pain! For a while, I was on crutches with it.
As a result of all this, I was NOT an active child, and plowed on a ton of weight. And I had a lisp.
Being highly ungraceful, at the age of 15 I should have known better than to try to jump over a bench. Instead, my feet caught, and I slammed face-first into the concrete of the locker room floor. Which began back pain and lots of back therapy. And knocked my jaw out of joint, although we didn't know that until it completely locked.
So picture the fun - at 15 I weigh 240 pounds, have a doctor's exust to get out of all PE activites, wear knee supports a lot of the time, and have a splint in my mouth. Oh, and I also got the highest grades in my class. I had a great high school social life. On the upside, thanks to the splint, I lost my lisp! Ah, and I forgot to mention the localized scleroderma that struck when I was 7, but was misdiagnosed until I was 19 as "skin fungus," so off and on for 12 years, I smelled like jock itch medication and had weird brown patches on my right torso and right bicep.
I was quite the catch.
Anyway, over the years I'd just have random aches and pains. While my dad was dying of lung cancer four years ago, I ground my teeth so much from stress I re-injured my jaw. I was put on NSAIDs for about four years straight (with a one-year break for my pregnancy with my second child).
Not long after, I find out I have Celiac, GERD, and Barrett's esophagus!
Then I burned out my stomach with NSAID overuse. I stop and switch to Tylenol, and notice something odd. All of those "minor" aches and pains I'd had since I was pregnant with my son all of a sudden aren't so minor. I'm having electric shock spasms in my muscles, my fingers constantly hurt, my entire back is just a knot, someone squeezes my elbow in a friendly gesture and I want to scream, periodically my skin would just feel like it was on fire, and then just stop.
So yeah, now I'm at fibro. And still playing with what meds will work, yadda yadda.
I feel bad for my husband, because he's on his own with our toddler son first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening (and afternoons on weekends since I take advantage of that time to nap), because if I get down in the floor to play with him, I have to stay there for quite a while. And no quick movements, ack! And don't poke me there! Hell, sometimes having my cat jump into my lap makes me want to scream.
We've decided not to have more kids, which is kind of heartbreaking. I'm probably too old for it anyway, but we just decided physically, I would have a tough time with the aches and pains of pregnancy, especially since I'd have to give up what little relief meds provide. And afterwards, my husband would have primary care (with the help of our 11-year-old from my prior marriage) of an infant AND a toddler, which is too much for him to do largely alone.
My husband's so good at being a father, I feel bad. I feel like I'm ripping him off with this stupid health.
I'm a 38-year-old mother of two, and was just diagnosed with fibro late this summer. Initially I went to a rheumatologist about a year ago, who did a tender point test and said I had enough tender points to qualify, but I was probably just "fat and didn't sleep enough." A--hole.
After finally relaying this to my primary care physician, he re-did the tender point test, survived my nearly elbowing him in the ribs from a reflexive action to a tender point, and started me on medication. We still have some sorting to do with the meds, but we'll get there.
I'm kind of no stranger to pain, though. But anything I went through as a kid never really prepared me for fibro.
As a little kid, I had intense kidney problems they could never diagnose. One kidney swelled to the size of two, leading one doctor to think, until they did an x-ray, I might have a third kidney. That eventually resolved itself, and to this day, we have no idea what happened. But it caused years of kidney and bladder infections until about second grade. (Didn't stunt my growth, though, since I'm 5'10".)
On top of that, as a child I had arthritid in my knees. At 11, I grew six inches in nine months and developed Osgood Schlatter's disease. Sure, let's hike up the knee pain! For a while, I was on crutches with it.
As a result of all this, I was NOT an active child, and plowed on a ton of weight. And I had a lisp.
Being highly ungraceful, at the age of 15 I should have known better than to try to jump over a bench. Instead, my feet caught, and I slammed face-first into the concrete of the locker room floor. Which began back pain and lots of back therapy. And knocked my jaw out of joint, although we didn't know that until it completely locked.
So picture the fun - at 15 I weigh 240 pounds, have a doctor's exust to get out of all PE activites, wear knee supports a lot of the time, and have a splint in my mouth. Oh, and I also got the highest grades in my class. I had a great high school social life. On the upside, thanks to the splint, I lost my lisp! Ah, and I forgot to mention the localized scleroderma that struck when I was 7, but was misdiagnosed until I was 19 as "skin fungus," so off and on for 12 years, I smelled like jock itch medication and had weird brown patches on my right torso and right bicep.
I was quite the catch.
Anyway, over the years I'd just have random aches and pains. While my dad was dying of lung cancer four years ago, I ground my teeth so much from stress I re-injured my jaw. I was put on NSAIDs for about four years straight (with a one-year break for my pregnancy with my second child).
Not long after, I find out I have Celiac, GERD, and Barrett's esophagus!
Then I burned out my stomach with NSAID overuse. I stop and switch to Tylenol, and notice something odd. All of those "minor" aches and pains I'd had since I was pregnant with my son all of a sudden aren't so minor. I'm having electric shock spasms in my muscles, my fingers constantly hurt, my entire back is just a knot, someone squeezes my elbow in a friendly gesture and I want to scream, periodically my skin would just feel like it was on fire, and then just stop.
So yeah, now I'm at fibro. And still playing with what meds will work, yadda yadda.
I feel bad for my husband, because he's on his own with our toddler son first thing in the morning and last thing in the evening (and afternoons on weekends since I take advantage of that time to nap), because if I get down in the floor to play with him, I have to stay there for quite a while. And no quick movements, ack! And don't poke me there! Hell, sometimes having my cat jump into my lap makes me want to scream.
We've decided not to have more kids, which is kind of heartbreaking. I'm probably too old for it anyway, but we just decided physically, I would have a tough time with the aches and pains of pregnancy, especially since I'd have to give up what little relief meds provide. And afterwards, my husband would have primary care (with the help of our 11-year-old from my prior marriage) of an infant AND a toddler, which is too much for him to do largely alone.
My husband's so good at being a father, I feel bad. I feel like I'm ripping him off with this stupid health.