Of course I wish scleroderma got the awareness and funds cancer “enjoys”. I’m not angry and I’m going to tell you why. I am also going to offer suggestions to help you educate health care providers and the general public by recognition and comparison.
Why is cancer so infuriating to patients with rare diseases? Well, obviously, people have heard of cancer. It occurs more in the general population. I have seen many statuses and comments sharing frustration and anger about how many other diseases get more publicity and funding than #scleroderma research. Since 1994, I too have been frustrated about how everyone pays more attention to cancer. In 1999, I thought that I would rather have #cancer, because at least most doctors know what cancer is, and how to treat it. My frustration eventually turned into action.
I decided to learn more about cancer to see if there were similarities I could compare to scleroderma and share using both cancer and scleroderma as search words. What I found and concluded, surprised me.
I made some interesting discoveries. Cancer research and patient care, have provided caregiver models, and education programs. Some cancer drugs are used in lower doses to slow down the disease process in autoimmune diseases by immuno-suppression, like methotrexate.
Cancer research has also brought us the infusion clinic. Because I have infusions of a powerful immune suppressant drug every eight weeks to accompany my dose of methotrexate, as a non-cancer patient, I still benefited from cancer research and patient care. More people get cancer, and many have difficulty when IV’s are needed. Not only did I get the best nurses for difficult IV’s, I also received education from these nurses about how I could benefit from a power-port.
Okay, what were we taking about?
Cancer research has helped lead the way in the care of chronically ill patients. Yes, scleroderma and other patients with other illnesses, have benefited from treatment and care of cancer patients. But wait, cancer isn’t the only condition that helped improve patient care. How about the care of individuals who are paralyzed by stroke or injury? There’s some rehab crossover. How about Diabetes? Yep, the care of diabetes patients has benefited many a scleroderma patient when it comes to Raynaud’s in feet. It makes it easier to get insurance to cover orthodontic inserts, because the diabetes is familiar and when a podiatrist says, “We see this in the feet of diabetics, and treat it the same.” Of course there are many differences, but by pointing out similarities in a rare illness to one that’s familiar, it makes it easier for the person you are teaching to learn and recall. General practitioners know that poor circulation causes infections and amputations of limbs. If you are the scleroderma patient and a doctor recognizes a symptom from an illness they know, about that is the scleroderma patient’s opportunity to compare scleroderma (or insert illness here) the similarities to scleroderma. That will help that doctor recall scleroderma from the Rolodex# in their brain.
Here is one way I use recognition:
My quick answer for decades to the question, “What is Scleroderma?”
My short answer, ” Scleroderma is an autoimmune disease in the same family as Lupus & Rheumatoid Arthritis, except it affects connective tissue. You know how there are different types of cancer, there are different types of autoimmune diseases.”
I know, it’s not all that short, but it’s as short as I can get. Recognition of Lupus or RA helps. If someone hasn’t heard of those, I add a blurb about diabetes. I will say something like this:
“You’ve heard about diabetes, right? Diabetes is also considered an autoimmune disease. “
Most people are surprised by that information. They recognize diabetes, and now you’ve connected scleroderma to diabetes. Just like throat cancer is different
In other words, those who named cancer did well for marketing purposes. No matter what kind of cancer one has, everyone knows about cancer.
So when you see all the pinking going on and awareness campaigns ofcancer, or more well known causes year-round, do some research. Find similarities between the progress in patient care and how they have benefited scleroderma patients, in small ways or tremendously. When you do something like that, it also gives you a way to join the conversation about a more well-know disease and even help other causes by sharing their fundraising information.
Now you’re probably thinking, “Did Karen just say I should share information about more popular causes than my own?” Yeah, I am and here’s why: Research breakthroughs and progress in other illnesses, benefits research in other areas. One example is Benalysta for Lupus. Benlysta was approved by the FDA for the treatment of Lupus. Oh wait, it was THE first medication FDA approved for treating Lupus. As I write this, there is researchbeing done to find out if Benlysta can be used to effectively treat scleroderma. (See what I did there)
Another idea is a compare and contrast. Remember my post about how a woman I spoke with at Social Security who thought scleroderma was a skin condition? Well, find a skin condition, learn about it and understand the similarities and difference, so that you can have a better reply to the “skin condition” thing.
Anger from cancer getting more attention is definitely warranted, but based on my experience, acting in anger is not the best idea. I think as a community of scleroderma patients, if we can take the conversation outside the scleroderma community by relating experiences in common with patients of other illness, we can get the word out faster. A rising tide lifts all boats. Research progress helps the illness community over all. We can go back and forth for days about how one is worse than the other, but all illnesses suck. Awareness is useless if we don’t teach anything along with it. And teaching does not include photographs for shock value, but that’s a whole other post.
Thanks for reading! -K
**At the time, I lived in Murrieta California and Loma Linda was my Veterans Healthcare center.
** When pain or anxiety hit me, I am not shy about asking for them, in spite of the stigma of “depending one them”. Pain medication lowers my anxiety, because it takes away or dulls it to make it tolerable. High anxiety makes my pain worse as well. I have often been relived of joint pain and swelling pain, with anxiety medication, because I have a diagnosis of major depression and anxiety. Many patients can attest to stress making symptoms worse. I ask for these things with the risk of stigma in the back of my mind.
*** Before I stopped my doctor, I assessed his surroundings and mannerisms, to determine he was not rushing to a crisis. Also, if he was on his way to a crisis, he would not have stopped to speak with me. When I am in pain, or during a crisis situation, I have an unusually clear head. It came from two decades of experience. It may sound rediculous that someone in so much pain, has such a cool head, but please keep in mind I have 20 years of advocating for myself. I have driven hours for care while in excruciating pain. And when I say I have driven hours, I mean I was driving the vehicle. I have learned calming techniques to be able to speak on my behalf. I will admit though, the longer the problem continues, the more the F bombs fly.
#If you don’t know what a Rolodex is, Google it you young whippersnapper. And get off my lawn!
Scleroderma is an autoimmune disease. Healthy cells are mistaken for unhealthy ones, and the body attacks itself. Not only is scleroderma a difficult name to remember, it is also a Greek word that means: hard skin. Because of the name, people mistake scleroderma for a skin condition.
When a doctor told a patient that he or she had scleroderma, it was usually followed by a statement like: Get you’re things in order, you don’t have long. For a long time, that was true. Now, thanks to research, there are treatments available to help patients survive the progression of scleroderma by treating a patient’s symptoms. Scleroderma is different with every patient. Some have Diffuse Scleroderma or the “fast and furious killer”, or Limited Scleroderma, which progresses slowly and in spurts. Many patients die of complications of this type. Then, there is the overlap kind. In addition to scleroderma, a patient can have another autoimmune disease like Lupus, Fibromyalgia and any of the dozens of other autoimmune diseases that manifest slowly. Often not receiving the proper diagnosis because symptoms have not yet appeared, or the patient’s medical team does not know enough about autoimmune diseases to diagnose properly. Often resulting in the Limbo of illness: Mixed Connective Tissue Disease, or MCTD.
I was diagnosed in 1994, at the Madison Veteran’s Hospital. The Veteran’s Healthcare System was originally designed for aging men. So not only did my medical team have limited research about scleroderma at the time, I was a woman and they really had to work hard to make changes to accommodate my treatment. They did not know I should have immediately been placed in an occupational therapy program to prevent my hands from becoming severely damaged and impaired. They did not know to inform me about symptoms and warning to watch for, so I didn’t have to loose part of my thumb. They didn’t know that my additional symptoms were really sarcoidosis, and not scleroderma symptoms, proven by an outside provider after taking months of ER chest CT scans to UCLA’s pulmonology department, three hours away paid for out of my own pocket and private insurance I could only receive at the time because my husband and I owned a small business, and as an employee could not be turned down because of pre-existing conditions. Yes, many people I met in the 1990’s are surprised to still see me alive.
Now that denying insurance coverage because of pre-existing conditions is now against the law, patients with scleroderma are receiving life-saving and life-extending treatment, but many patients in areas that are not near a major city like Los Angeles, Chicago and Minneapolis, patients are still getting misdiagnosed and dying because of it. How do we solve this problem? With medical provider education and patient education. Of course, money is the biggest help because that funds research and treatment. All of these things are happening, but we can do so much more. Scleroderma needs better marketing.
T-shirts and teal bracelets are not enough. A pretty color, a shirt and accessories is not enough. Scleroderma needs a new name and I have the perfect name. One that embodies the surprise of the uncommon scleroderma symptoms. A name that expresses the pure frustration of scleroderma patients, in addition to the terror they feel when they experience trouble doing something we all do without thinking; like swallowing and breathing. I think you will agree this name, fits.
Scleroderma needs to be renamed, “Whisky-Tango-Foxtrot”.
It’s easier to say, easier to remember and let’s face it, you can’t forget it. It’s obvious why, but I’ll explain it in one simple sentence. It’s easier to Tango or Foxtrot after some whiskey. (By the way, did you know there are two ways to spell whisky?) Not everyone likes whiskey, but who doesn’t like dancing, or watching someone dance? See how easy that is? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Rolls right off the tongue. So let’s not just raise awareness, let’s educate and get the word out about this debilitating, progressive and degenerative disease called scleroderma and rename it Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Because I know when I first heard the word scleroderma the first thing I said was, “sclero-what?”. End sclero-what today, because the best way I know how to express what scleroderma has made me think of the most is, “WTF?”
Yes. Scleroderma does do ugly things to beautiful people, and me, too.
When I began this blog, my intention was to raise awareness of scleroderma. I’m going on my sixth year with this blog, and awareness is not enough. The truth is, scleroderma is an ugly disease. It doesn’t directly affect breasts, and the damage done by scleroderma is shocking to those who are completely unaware. I know, no one wants to hear that people aren’t paying attention because there is no high-level celebrity that has it, except Queen Latifah’s mom. Here are some things not being covered, even by foundations. Not because they don’t want to, but because they are too busy researching and assisting patients and their families.
There are so many things that bother me about awareness campaigns. First, small independent patient communities, not affiliated with research or patient advocacy, raising money for swag to fund their advertising which includes a bunch of prayers and stupid bracelets. I’ve had scleroderma for twenty-one years and not once has a stupid bracelet made me feel better. How about skipping the middle man and sending that two bucks you paid to look like you made a donation or care about scleroderma, directly to research or patient advocacy. Or maybe something like a scleroderma patient’s cleaning service.
Unless you are dying or rich, scleroderma patients do not qualify for cleaning services, without having a home health nurse. Don’t get me wrong, many patients need full time care. But for those who don’t, like me, the last thing I want in my house is someone dressed like a nurse, who has to stay for three hours twice a week, cleans my house half-assed because she’s there for healthcare and of course hear about all her personal problems (I’ve had this done with three “helpers”.) The last time, when I was released from the hospital after forty-five days last year, the VA granted a home health care assistant. Eventually,I had to schedule myself to be home three hours, twice a week so she could help me clean. Of course, she was there for healthcare so getting her to clean was like pulling teeth, so that didn’t last long and I resumed my own cleaning. All I needed was someone to come by once a week for an hour and a half and do the heavy cleaning in my house, then get the f*ck out. I didn’t need companionship, help dressing, eating, bathing, even though I had to stay off my foot. Just clean the bathroom, kitchen floors, change my sheets, not even do laundry. But no, the VA doesn’t do that. Everyone is so busy looking for fraud, that people who could use a little help now and then have to wait until they are injured, or worse.
And then there are people who tell me, “ask your family to help.” First of all, I live near none of my family. I live near a health care facility qualified to take care of my medical needs. Also, that would require me to live near my family. One family member even told me I should try assisted living. I get home from comedy clubs at two or three in the morning, and I drive myself. Look I may have stayed in the hospital forty-five days, but I did not go without a booty call. I had two during my stay. I got away with it in a hospital, because nursing stations are busy at shift change, but in assisted living, someone’s going to notice my room mate sitting in a wheelchair outside my room for at least an hour to get the return value on that Brazillian I pay for every month.
I’ve done my time laying around in pain waiting for medications to be developed to cure scleroderma and sarcoidosis. The diseases have run their course. My lungs are scarred, I have lost mobility in my hands and I still deal with chronic pain. For me, the worst is over. I no longer wish to raise awareness of scleroderma. I want to make patients aware that if they can just keep fighting, and remember to start fighting again when giving up (I’ve given up plenty of times), that there can be life with scleroderma. Right now, you might be fighting to breathe. There is a chance you can make it through this, and if you do, there is so much life to live. Look, there will always be a time when our bodies will tell us we are ready to move on, that it is time to not give up, but accept that it’s time to leave this life behind, scleroderma or not. For those patients out there wondering how they can live with the damage, it can be done. It will take work, there will be disappointment and there will be some success.
The only thing I hate more than having scleroderma, is when someone tells me they are sorry. I know people don’ really know how to react, and maybe patients appreciate it when hear someone is sorry they have scleroderma, but not me. It doesn’t anger me, it enrages me. It’s not that I don’t appreciate them feeling something, but sympathy? I’m not dead yet, Mother F*cker! And it usually in a doctor’s office where I am trying to get routine care so I can maintain my health. I don’t want sympathy from a healthcare provider. How about some empowerment with care that encourages me to be active? Luckily, I get that at The West Los Angeles VA Hospital. I also got it at Loma Linda. Long Beach sucked. (That’s my review of those three hospitals.)
So that is my ugly, honest rant. It’s how I really feel about fundraiser drives to support advertising and teal-wearing and showing pictures people without scleroderma will scroll past on Facebook because it is so shocking. Hell, I scroll past a picture of a scleroderma patient clearly suffering. It sucks. Not as much as having the scleroderma, but it’s definitly hurting the fundraising. Save the Tatas, raises money because people love to see boobs. Groups who post the worst and seek sympathy, shock people away from learning about scleroderma, because to someone who doesn’t have it, it’s hard to see. I know, it’s not what any of us wants to hear, but does that make it any less true?
The title of my last post is, “I Hate The Documentary, Project Scleroderma: Beneath The Surface”. I thought about changing the title, but I have decided to keep it, and follow up with this post. I take you on a scenic route to my point, so feel free to jump to the paragraph that is headed in bold type, for my point. There is nothing simple about scleroderm. Every patient is different.
The documentary itself, is a labor of love by those who created it. I have seen clips and is very well done. This documentary
is needed because it informs and educates. What I may have failed to relay in the last post, is that in addition to my denial, I hate the lack of education throughout the medical community. And then there is the issue of spell check here in this Word Press program, that insists on auto-correcting scleroderma to sclerosis. I’ve been acutely ‘aware’ of scleroderma for over twenty years. To say that I am beyond frustrated about how little people know about scleroderma, is an understatement. Luckily there are people who care enough to donate their time and money to amplify the voices of those with scleroderma.
For twenty years, I have been raising so-called awareness. Friends and family “like” my blog’s Facebook Page, but never share my posts. I wouldn’t mind that so much if they weren’t so quick to share every Bible verse or “Save the Tatas” meme. I haven’t had the guts to say this to friends and family, until now.
Dear Family and Friends,
Thank you for asking me how I’m doing and offering to help out, but I would really appreciate it if you would follow up with action like sharing things from my blog- or at least reading it. These memes that you post like “Share if you agree cancer sucks”, seem nice. But I think we can all agree you are sharing the obvious. How about sharing something about an illness that few people know about like, oh I don’t know.. maybe scleroderma? It’s great to see all your selfies at breast cancer runs and the swag you spent a ton of cash on, but when I post about fund raisers why is it so quiet? Seriously all you have to do is share and donate a dollar when there are fundraisers.
There are many of you who do, but you know who you are.
This post may be too honest, but it’s not like anyone reads my blog anyway. I have avoided speaking out to friends and family on Facebook, because I don’t like to complain, and let’s face it: More people have been affected by things like breast cancer. But just because another disease gets more ink, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t speak up every now and then and say: Ahem.. Over here please!
Yesterday, I posted about hating Project Scleroderma: Beneath The Surface. And if I can express my feelings about dreading to watch the documentary spearheaded by a woman who lost her mom to scleroderma within four months of her diagnosis, it would be irresponsible of me to be honest to strangers and not my friends, family or acquaintances. What it boils down to, I hate having something no one else has heard of. I hate that people share something every day about cancer or God, but rarely share about scleroderma. I hate being a scleroderma patient.
Scleroderma: Beneath The Surface, will help spread the word about scleroderma. Every day, I am reminded that there is very little publicity about scleroderma. I was recently told by a customer service representative at the Social Security Disability office, that her understanding of scleroderma is that it’s a skin condition. I wasn’t rude about it, but I did explain to her what scleroderma does to a human. That it’s far more serious than a skin condition or rash. She was shocked, and I was encouraged by her willingness to learn. I was both encouraged and annoyed that someone who works with disabled Americans, thought scleroderma was just a skin condition. Just thinking about it, makes my hair hurt.
Just because scleroderma doesn’t have the coverage breast cancer “enjoys”, I do not want to diminish how serious breast cancer is, and how its publicity has saved lives. Of course breast cancer continues to kill men and women and still there is so much to be done. Many organizations have made progress because of generous donations. What I see in addition to this great work, is a new industry, and that is something I am not fond of.
We don’t have to agree about everything, but we do agree scleroderma needs to be cured.
So many wonderful Americans, found ways to fund treatment for patients who could not get it, with fundraising. That is a wonderful and selfless accomplishment. And somehow, all of these good intentions have created the Disease and/or Cause market of swag. We all love swag. I don’t know about you, but swag that tells me I’ve done something good gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. Swag needs to be manufactured, marketed and sold. Swag has become profitable when added to big named brands. Do you really believe the National Football League would come out with all that Pink merchandise, if they did not profit from it?
I think it’s wonderful when communities come together. Meanwhile, many individuals who belong to these communities, complain that giving all citizens access to healthcare, no matter what they could pay, is wrong because it’s socialism. Now, before you stop reading this post because I do argue for universal healthcare for all in The United States, hear me out.
People have told me for years that I deserve the best, because I am a veteran. I disagree. I deserve the best because I am a human being. I believe all who are in the United States should have access to the care they need, not what an insurance company or government program is willing to pay for that specific care. Sure, I’m a veteran and I have scleroderma. But wouldn’t my family feel that I deserved the best possible care if I were not a veteran? What if I was you daughter, sister, wife, mother or child? Would you still feel that it would be okay that I am denied treatment because I cannot pay for it? I am also arguing is that veterans have friends and family, they would like to see get the medical treatment they need. (One, two, three, what are we really fighting for?) I have had access to the greatest treatment at the time, for scleroderma after fighting in both the VA system and private sector with what was nicknamed, Golden Insurance.
When things were going well for the business my ex-husband and I owned in the early 2000’s, I chose the company’s health insurance plan. Back then, no matter how much money my spouse made, no insurance company could provide the comprehensive coverage I needed, due to my pre-existing condition of scleroderma, unless I was employed. So, I worked from home and chose such a comprehensive package for our company, it was one of the many reasons our company went bankrupt. I already had access to great care at Loma Linda Veteran’s Hospital. The Chief of Rheumatology told us that my prognosis was getting worse. That if we had private insurance, he would recommend me to a colleague who just happened to be the Chief of Rheumatology at UCLA Medical center. That admission of, “I don’t know what to do next, but I’m going to find someone who might”, saved my life. I owe my life to this great rheumatologist who knew the difference between doing what’s best for his patient, and doing only what he could. Of course, my ticket to the land of affordable second opinions, was money. (That reads funny to me as well, and it’s not my grammar.)
If I did not have insurance, my rheumatologist could have referred me to the West Los Angeles VA, which could have taken months. Meanwhile, Veteran’s health Care was overwhelmed with casualties returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. The Veteran’s Healthcare system was already overcrowded and underfunded before two wars. My yet to be diagnosed sarcoidosis was simply written off as a symptom of scleroderma, and nothing could be done. So my appointment with a UCLA associated rheumatologist might have taken as long as a year to be seen. My difficulty breathing was dismissed by local doctors and emergency departments in Murrieta and the Loma Linda VA hospital as a symptom of scleroderma. I know this because these things were written in my medical records by whatever resident doctor in the Emergency Room was, who just happened to have little experience with scleroderma patients. At UCLA, my biopsy was expedited because after my pulmonologist at UCLA reviewed several of my chest CT scans from other facilities, he read in the notes that I should have further testing for lymphoma. Following the recommendations of the radiologist’s report of these scans, was a another note commenting the testing for lymphoma results was unnecessary because I had a pre-exisiting condition of scleroderma. The pulmonologist at UCLA ordered a PET scan and the lymhnodes in my chest lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids. There had to be a biopsy done, because everything pointed to cancer. A biopsy of my lymph nodes and lungs were done less than two weeks later. Granulaomas known as sarcoidosis, were found in my lymph nodes. This discovery was huge. My rheumatologist at UCLA ordered a medication that my Golden insurance company and Veteran’s Healthcare formulary, both required the failure of two other drugs before using Remicade. So, my rheumatologist provided the golden insurance company evidence to support my need to skip right over the formulary, and allow for Remicade. It took some time, but in less than six weeks, I received my first infusion of Remicade at my local hospital in Murrieta, not eighty-five miles away at UCLA. The cost was $22,00o per infusion. (Yes, that is a five-figure number for one dose of medication that by the way, saved my life.)
There is no way of knowing for sure if the Remicade stopped the scleroderma from hardening my lungs or the sarcoidosis from making my lymhnodes so large, I would be unable to get the proper amount of oxygen in my blood and my heart would fail. What I do know is that eight years after my diagnosis of sarcodosis, I maintain a stable prognosis. My treatment with a medication that was $22,000 a pop was transferred to the the Veteran’s Hospital at Loma Linda. The rheumatologist who ordered it there, the Chief of Rheumatology presented evidence to counter the formulary restrictions, based not only what was provided to my Golden Insurance’s formulary, but my progress since the treatment began.
There is a continuity of care requirement for medications that are benefiting a patient when there is a change of insurance. I was not able to stay on Remicade because simply because I was already on it. There was a record the Golden Insurance company had, of the valid research backing this decision, and there was evidence that in my case, no matter what was being suppressed by this strong immunosuppressant, the drug was working. At this time, there is no way to know of knowing what Remicade worked to fix. I am one patient with both scleroderma and sarcoidosis. Both chronic illnesses are rare and I have yet to know of another human with both. My rhumatologist at UCLA, who is a leader in scleroderma treatment around the world, just recommended what he thought would be best, based on research that existed at the time and his experience. (The world reference is not an understatement. My doctor is **Dr. Daniel Furst. Go ahead. Google him. We’ll wait…)
But what does this have to do with a documentary about scleroderma? I live in Southern California. My location alone, allows me access to doctors who have experience with scleroderma, and/or who are actively overseeing and doing scleroderma research. The Veteran’s Hospitals in highly populated areas like LA and Loma Linda are teaching hospitals where young minds go to learn and make progress in treatment and diagnoses because they are med students working with those who teach, do research and have mountains of experience and work, they can build upon to improve care. Teaching hospitals are where progress in treatment are made, and save lives. UCLA doctors and faculty are the specialists who see patients at the West LA VA. Not everyone has as good an outcome as I have had. I am aggressive when it comes to my care. Being able to fight for my care, and get it, has a lot to do with my location. If I lived in Bakersfield, I would have to drive, or take a bus provided by the VA, to see doctors at the West Los Angeles, VA. Why do I know this? Because there are not enough facilities for veterans to get the care and specialization they need in Bakersfield. They travel to LA. This is nothing unique. When I lived in La Crosse, Wisconsin, I had to travel three hours by car, one-way to get the care I needed. At one time, I lived across the street from a hospital that consulted with the Mayo Clinic. Yet I still had to drive three hours one way to see a rheumatologist my VA Healthcare would cover.
Doctors need to be educated, and get the most current information and resources available to treat their patients. Patients should not have to cut medication in half so they can get almost the right dose they need, to save an insurance company money. In fact, insurance companies are the consumers to pharmaceutical companies. The statement: “Cutting medication decreases the cost to the consumer”, is incomplete. Sure, it does cut the cost to both patient and insurance company. Production of medication using the same dosage, increases the profit a pharmaceutical company makes because it does not have to pay for the production costs of a smaller dose of the medication. So we’re inconveniencing and sometimes hindering the care of patients to save a buck. Someone has to make a sacrifice, and it’s going to be a company who answers to shareholders. The company or insurance company does not serve the consumer (patient). It serves the bottom line and it’s shareholders.
From my perspective, medication is viewed as a luxury item, by those who don’t need it. Medication is not a luxury item. Medication extends, improves and saves the lives of We The People. Should anyone be denied lifesaving treatment, simply because they cannot afford it? No, but this has become The American Way. Because providing healthcare to all that is paid for by the Federal Government would be socialist. Yet aren’t we entitled to “Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”? No, because for some reason it has become the norm to deny people medical treatment they are unable to pay for, and allow them to die. Wait, I know the reason. It’s because we want the freedom not to pay for people less fortunate, like those who are sick and disabled, taking advantage of hardworking Americans. People have limited access to treatment and qualified practitioners. When something the government creates to help those who need medical care but can’t afford it, many companies who benefit by profiting on expensive medication, spend millions to stop expanding care to people who can’t afford care. Not because they are cruel, but because it’s in the best interest of the shareholders. A company cannot be cruel or compassionate. It is a company and exists merely to earn a profit, no matter how helpful they appear. (Companies are not people, my friends.)
Finally, my point:
Scleroderma Project: Beneath The Surface, needs to be seen to show that swag is not what patients need. Sure, swag is nice and don’t we all look good in pink or teal on Instagram at the most recent Race for The Cure? I’m tired of swag. I’m tired of merchandise. Why is it that the disease with the best lobbyists gets all the funding for research? I would love to see less people dressed in a color for their cause, and more money going straight to research for their cause. I don’t hate the documentary itself. I hate what the United States has become and that we need to show people suffering slow, painful deaths to prove that research for scleroderma needs funding, and is not simply a skin condition. So download the movie, watch it then share a link to it and say a little something about it when you do. The world needs to learn about scleroderma. Watching and sharing is what you can do to help scleroderma patients like me.
** Dr. Furst educates rheumatologists around the world. If you would like to find a doctor near you, please contact the Scleroderma Foundation by visiting Scleroderma.org and you will find a doctor closest to you that has proper experience and education. Dr. Furst works with my team of rheumatologsts who treat me through the VA. This is because of my geographical location.
Like most of my posts, I start with a topic, then go ‘off-road’ with a personal related story and get back on track. I have tried to change that, but this is after all, my blog. Enjoy the crazy!
I hate the documentary called Project Scleroderma: Beneath The Surfce
For the longest time, when I heard the name, my heart would swell with feelings of resentment. I justified these feelings by telling myself this documentary about scleroderma, only showed worst-case scenarios. That people live well with scleroderma if they just stay on top of symptoms. My justification is one big fat lie I tell myself to avoid the reality of what is happening to my body.
Since my diagnosis in 1994, I have said a resounding, “NO”, to scleroderma. My body, my mind and my heart scream “NOT ME”. I am not going to be that club-handed and disfigured patient lying in pain that is the face of scleroderma. I am certainly not scleroderma. The truth is, that is exactly scleroderma and that is something I fight to avoid facing. After more than twenty years of treatment for depression, I have learned there is nothing that will make me face the inevitable hardening of my lungs and eventual death. Hold on, there is one thing that will pull me out of this depression and off of these meds: if it stopped and the damage is reversed. (Hey, a girl can dream.)
I used to lock myself in my bathroom and scream silently, wishing the scleroderma would just stop. Have you ever have those nightmares where you scream and there’s no sound? Yeah, that. Only it’s real. And when the scleroderma stops in reality, I’ll be dead.
Is it so terrible I live in denial that something is grotesquely disfiguring my body as it slowly kills me? No, it’s not terrible at all. (Lala Lala Lala I can’t hear you!) Because that is how I get up every morning. I am always surprised when I see my hands every day. I have to ignore my hands to get out of bed. I can’t accept that God has a plan. Because if God does have a plan, I have nothing kind to say about God.. I joke about making margaritas on the Handbasket to Hell, Because if there is a God, and if we meet, I would try to kill him/her. So I prefer to believe there is no god. It makes the most sense. And if you’d like to tell me that when I am faced with death that I’ll start praying, I will tell you that is bulls&*!. I have nearly died three times that I know of, and been clinically dead once. There is no bright light. And dying is actually quite relaxing when it’s not painful. I speak from experience. You know what terrifies me more than death? Looking sick and in pain. Not the kind of constant chronic pain people with chronic illnesses are forced to suffer because a bunch of non-ill people abuse pain medication. I dread the pain of my body rotting and the feeling of the nerve endings dying. If you have never felt a piece of your own body as it turns black and dies, I don’t recommend it. I was in the hospital with a rotting thumb and nurses refused to contact my doctor as I begged for pain medication. It wasn’t invisible. They could see the necrotic tissue of my thumb die before their eyes. But according to them, I was just being hysterical. They had never heard of such a thing. And I also heard them say that I probably did it to myself to get pain medication. And here are some more of the hits: “Her thumb isn’t rotting off.” and my favorite, “It’s all in her head.” That sore turned gangrenous, then tissue around it started to die. An arteriogram had been done before I went into the hospital and it showed that the arteries to my thumb were completely choked off. My thumb was getting blood back-flowing from the vein. (Who are they going to believe? Their own eyes? Not a chance.)
Oh, and if you are reading this and you are a nurse, I can hear you when you think I can’t. I love nurses, but I have met some real winners.
The funny part of that story, is that was in 1996 at a Veteran’s Hospital. After loosing part of my thumb, my care was transferred to the Madison Veteran’s hospital, where they stepped up and began treating my illness. But of course, the problem of nurses acting above their pay grade still happened recently In 2013, I heard similar statements at the nurse’s station at the Long Beach Veteran’s Hospital in the long term care unit. The only difference is, we can add,”One day she’s going to wake up and not be able to move.”
Because I guess I was not having a reaction from 30 days of morphine, as evidenced by my chart from prior hospital stays when I had a rash, the medication Benedryll was given to me in a higher dose, and the rash was quickly resolved. The “wake up and not move”, were one of many comments of nurses who insisted on their own expertise based on their time working in a glorified nursing home. They were mostly overworked BSN’s who did the jobs of CNA’s. I actually had to teach them how to change the needle on my port-o-cath. When I refused an IV into may arm and after one nurse finally figured out a patient should not be teaching nurse how to do their job, they got someone in to show them. This manager was pretty upset when he found out what was going on. Also, many nurses shared their beliefin the power of prayer. In the beginning, I thanked them for their well wishes, and politely remind them occasionally that I don’t believe in God. One nurse even told me I wasn’t taking good care of myself because I did not believe in God. I do love nurses, but I love freedom from religion more. I have made more than one nurse cry after they have put my life in jeopardy, then I think of nurses who refuse to listen, I have dealt with through the years and my guilt just disappears. I don’t make nurses (and some doctors) cry for my entertainment. It’s usually after they have made a careless mistake, or base my care on their experience with nothing related to the symptoms I have. That and I hate them telling me that God loves me and has a plan, especially after I tell them I am an atheist. It’s so disrespectful. I don’t try to talk them out of their faith. Why do they insist on talking me out of my lack of faith? I guess that’s a whole other post.
Wow. That was a rant. I have left it in so you can get a glimmer of the judgement and doubt by practitioners, family and friends, scleroderma patients get: This post talks about my time after scleroderma was diagnosed. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go years with mysterious symptoms and being told it’s all in my head. Oh wait, I did. Again, whole other post.
I avoid things that point out the reality of scleroderma. It’s what keeps me from drinking my bottle the liquid morphine I keep. Not to kill myself, but for pain. I want to numb myself from feeling everything that has been damaged to my body. Luckily, I love my family and friends and even more, I love myself too much to check out or keep myself over-medicated. (A little narcissism every now and then can be healthy.)
I greatly admire those who lead and participate in support groups. I cope by paying attention to my symptoms as they come, getting treatment and finding things to do that have nothing to do with scleroderma. I don’t participate in support groups. I will assist in raising funds for patient support, I just choose not to get my support from other patients. It’s not because they are fellow patients. It’s because I do not want scleroderma to be the reason we hang out, and our only topic of conversation. You may think that is selfish. Maybe it is. But it’s what works for me. I share stuff in my blog. That’s how I am able to help others. It’s what works for me.
Project Scleroderma is a wonderful project that is going to help present and future scleroderma patients. It’s well made, full of the horrifying reality of what scleroderma does to the human body. And that’s why I can’t watch it, yet.
In 1999, I nearly died of depression. I didn’t realize it, but I had stopped eating. It was triggered by a failed study of treatment. I was forced to see that scleroderma was going to be a long, slow and painful death. It took years of therapy, medication and had a large role in what lead to my divorce. And here I am, still alive.
Yesterday, I hung out with my son and played Smash Brothers on our Wii U. The day before that, we went to Disneyland because we have annual passes. And the day before that, on Valentines Day; my son and I went on a strenuous and beautiful hike in Griffith Park. I have an amazing life that I would not trade for anything. In September, my brother is getting married to an amazing woman I love dearly. And I can’t wait to see my sister, brother in-law and nephew who will be here for the big party. There is nothing that will motivate me more to keep fighting, than the life I have ahead of me. And it won’t be easy. I might get my heat broken a few times. I’m going to have to keep going to auditions after being rejected. After bombing during a set I wll convince myself to listen to the recording of me dying on stage to improve my set. I’m going to have to do the dishes instead of throwing them into the trash. I can drive seventy-five miles one way to pick up my son. The stuff that people worry about- the medical stuff; to me that’s just like brushing my teeth. A trip to the emergency department is just like a trip to the dentist. Having to correct a pharmacist and tell him or her I will not cut my dose of Viagra to save the Veteran’s Administration and in prior cases, insurance companies, money, well that’s just fun. It’s one of those silly, petty things that allows me to feel like I’m in control of something. And of course, I horrify my family sometimes when I use humor to cope with what scares me.
Many of those involved with Project Scleroderma: Beneath The Surface, have witness first hand as their loved one died while they could do nothing. There is nothing anyone can do to stop death, once the symptoms of scleroderma become fatal. Nothing except treat symptoms as they appear and slow progression with immunosuppressants. But times, they are a changin’. (Immunize your damn kids, by the way. Please and we on immunosuppresants thank you.)
Twenty years ago, people diagnosed with scleroderma were told to get their affairs in order and prepare for the worst. Thanks to research that has brought about treatment by non-profit organization. This of course is not a cure, but we’re getting there. Scleroderma is different in every patient. There are amazing treatments available to patients whose doctors know about them. (See the problem there? We need to get the word out.) We need to get doctors educated about scleroerma so they can offer their patients the bet possible outcome, while they wait for a cure.
Honestly, I don’t believe there will even be a cure in my lifetime.
I dare you to prove me wrong. (Seriously. I’m tired of being right most of the time.)
Someday, I will watch the entire Project Scleroderma, documentary. Right now, I am busy coping with the progression and damage scleroderma has done to my body by simply getting out and doing what I want . I usually don’t like to ask others to do what I wouldn’t, but I’ve lived with this for over twenty years. I think I’ve earned a pass. The Scleroderma Project, is a reality I don’t wish to face. I will be forced to face it soon enough when my lungs stop working. For now, I’m going to proof this, maybe do a Brazil Butt-Lift work out. (Just because my hands are messed up, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a fine ass.) Then go on a long hike while listening to Foo Fighters. So while I’m busy living, please watch and recommend Project Scleroderma. Share what you learn, what you have done or what you would like to do, for patients with scleroderma.
If I forgot anyone, please send me a message on Facebook – Karen
And now, a shameless plug:
I’ll be at The World Famous Comedy Store February 25th. Because laughing has only made me stronger. And, I could really use some butts in the seats. Click here and get your tickets at the door. $10.00 two drink minimum. This is up a flight of stairs. Visit my comedian FB page, hit “like” for information about upcoming shows.
I started writing this blog in 2009. If you have been along for the ride, you have seen my writing evolve from sub-par to adequate. Now, I’m doing stand-up comedy and in no way should be promoting it, but I am telling people where I will be performing. Why? Because I talk about scleroderma. I also posted this because I want to show other scleroderma patients there is hope, but you have to fight. I did. And now I have this warped sense of humor. (I had the warped sense of humor before, but now I do it with more words of Latin and Greek origin.)
Look, I never wanted to be a “scleroderma comedian”, but with my hands, it’s really hard not to talk about it. People have questions, and merely my medication gets a laugh because it’s so hard to believe. But this has to start somewhere, and why not with something that creates laughter.
I don’t think having scleroderma is funny. In fact, scleroderma is very scary to patients and those who love them. But the mistakes I have made personally, and ways I cope with it, are funny to me. So, I’m going to get people to laugh, and learn something, as well as show the world that with educated doctors and medical practitioners who will fight along side their patients, patients can survive. Nothing will ever trump a cure, but for now, I’m going to laugh at what scares me.
Thursday, July 10, I will be at Aces in Murrieta, California, for open mic. (Yes, that Murrieta.)
Saturday, July 19, I will be performing at Hot Java’s Deaf Comedy Jam in Long Beach, California.
I recently announced my scleroderma may be in remission. According to Merriam Webster, remission (is) a period of time during a serious illness when the patient’s health improves.
Remission was my word, not my doctor’s. I have also heard from other patients who will not use remission as well. The general consensus is, although the definition of remission does fit, and it doesn’t say permanent or temporary, remission is accepted as ceasing of the symptoms. It fits when referring to cancer. The cancer is somehow eradicated by treatment, and while in remission, patients do not experience symptoms of cancer. The difference with scleroderma is, that scleroderma may run it’s course, or symptoms may be controlled by medication, but blood work, and symptoms show scleroderma is present. The best term I have heard so far in reference to this is referred to as a “holding pattern” by patients and their doctors.
For me to say that I may be in remission is incorrect. Symptoms will flare. I will still have good and bad days. When I spoke with my doctor I was elated that I may have lived long enough to be through the worst of scleroderma, I threw around the word remission, carelessly. I apologize to you, who are kind enough to read my work regularly, and new patients looking for information. I was talking about scleroderma incorrectly, and I am s very sorry. Of course, I still have sarcoidosis, but it’s symptoms are very mild for me. I write more about scleroderma, because it’s just more aggressive in me than sarcoidosis.
I was very swept up in the possibility. One of my best and worst coping mechanisms, is denial. Like all patients with a chronic illness, I do not want to be sick, labeled as sick or live my life as if scleroderma defines me. It works well for me, until I get swept up, as I did with the word, “remission”.
The last few weeks, I have been working through depression. It is something that affects me more than scleroderma, in body and mind. Scleroderma is a life-long commitment no one volunteers for, but we can choose how we cope with it. A friend of mind gave me a name for my technique, he told me I am like Lt. Dan, from Forrest Gump. I liked that comparison because it felt like it rang true. Like Lt. Dan, I am angry about what life has handed me. I never ever want to be referred to as handicapped or disabled, and don’t get me started with God. I of course will not climb up on a shrimp boat mast and curse God during a hurricane, but I am certainly not going to worship God or pray. (That’s a whole other post.) For me, accepting scleroderma will always be a part of my life is a sore spot, but I do it. That may be why I have a great deal of patience with everything else. Traffic or long lines seem like minor things, and a waste of time to get angry about, because eventually a long line will move.
Scleroderma has taught me to live in the now. I am not in remission. I may be in a holding pattern, but I will need infusions and medication for the rest of my life- and it will not be cut short. That may seem unrealistic, but to me that is one thing that is not. Scleroderma, childbirth and a severe head injury have thrown a lot at me these past 43 years. I have a lot of life left, and there is treatment for my symptoms. I will continue to work hard to stay healthy, which we all need to do, scleroderma or not. I have not yet reached mid-life. I have a ten year old son, and I plan to see him walk on Mars, and meet his children. Life is full of obstacles. I choose to make obstacles, part of the adventure.
Every time I think of things being “afoot”, I think of the movie, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I also just started watching House of Cards, and I have compulsion to editorialize what’s going on to an imaginary camera. Both events are most likely symptoms of too much TV and way too much time alone with my dog.
Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my rheumatologist at UCLA. Today, I spoke with my primary care provider’s case manager (At the VA Hospital) and arranged to pick up my most current blood work. I am really liking the VA in Long Beach. The case manager wants me to contact her tomorrow morning with my doctor’s recommendations. I do miss the rheumatology department at Loma Linda VA, but driving less was worth the move.
Today, I finally accepted what I already knew: That I do not need a home health care worker here with me 6 hours a week. I’m too active now, which feels very good. When I have to rearrange my schedule to be home to have help, I don’t need it. I need someone to clean for me, not take care of me. That’s a huge milestone. After 45 days in the hospital and weeks of recovery, I’m now too active to have a nurse come over and that feels very good. I know my family may be reading this and cringing, but they already know I’m not good at sitting still. Today, though a Monday, was a great day! I cleaned my own apartment. The living room no longer looks like a laundry station. My dog is exhausted and walked.
I gathered my test results and read my doctor’s notes from my last appointment. My prognosis was good with a balance of diet and exercise. I feel well most of the time, but I can tell my body is dragging from not exercising. That’s really the last piece to pick up after that 45 day interruption.
So, tomorrow is the big day. Back for my quarterly check up with my rheumy at UCLA. Things are looking up. Now the trick is to keep it going, but hope is afoot and I think I have some great times ahead. After being diagnosed with scleroderma 20 years ago this October, I never thought I’d make it this long. I do wonder… Is there some person who approved my lifetime service connected disability getting chewed out in someone’s office because I wasn’t expected to live this long? Or is this person celebrating his/her retirement somewhere? I hope they are celebrating, whoever they are.
I really should have worn make-up here.
That’s teleangectasia on my face.
Without the help of the Veteran’s Administration, and service connected disability benefits, I would not be alive today. I would have had to endure ineffective treatment and it’s side effects, without the option to find a better doctor and pay out of pocket sometimes for a valuable second opinion. I would probably be missing fingers because I would have had to have someone split a 100mg Viagra tablet into fours because Viagra was non-formulary at the time for Raynaud’s Phenomenon, (Yes, I was prescribed 25mg and the VA did try to get me to split up a 100mg.), but I had doctors and practitioners who went to bat for me. I do realize just how lucky I am to be here. I wonder, why can’t everyone have disability benefits that are well above the poverty level, like me? And don’t tell me it’s because I’m a veteran. I think that is bullshit. This is medical care and resources. If a person is too sick to work, how can we expect that person to live a full life if they are constantly unable to buy medicine or healthy food? And just because a person is sick and poor, that does not mean they do not deserve to live a full life. Look, I don’t think we should send everyone on a European vacation, I’m saying wouldn’t it be nice if they could put their energy toward health instead of choosing between medicine and food? I’m so tired of reading about sick people putting themselves in debt while being denied Social Security benefits and reapplying. It’s just stupid. And really it does send a message that if they just deny people enough, they’ll die eventually.
Eliminating discrimination based on existing conditions is a start.
We are making progress, but it’s not enough. I’m still here because I have had resources not available to most scleroderma patients. Medication, though accessible, is still very expensive. I wouldn’t know that because my medication through the VA is FREE. Yes, FREE. Imagine how many people might be feeling better if they had access to care and medicine. Getting the right treatment based on expense rather that what works, is still the way insurance companies do business- and the VA if you don’t fight for it- but that’s a whole other post.
I really have no idea what to do about all that. Is it just me, or did that go on a bit? It’s your world. I’m just living it it.
This a follow up to apostI wrote in 2012. I almost started fixing typos, but realized what it really needed, was an update. I have sarcoidosis in addition to scleroderma, but sarcoidosis is contained with medication. There was a great deal of damage done to my body, including my lungs that are scarred, known as pulmonary fibrosis.
After spending 45 days in the hospital to save my foot, I am now faced with the challenge of returning to exercise on a routine basis. As much as I would like to go back to Krav Maga class, this will not be happening anytime in the near future. I blame the horrid infection of my foot on just thinking about training for a 5k. All kidding aside, the infection was bound to occur, but it may have been prevented from such a drastic course with proper shoes. I thought because I was feeling so great, I could take a chance and wear something more stylish. That was my mistake. Now, I have this wonderful reminder to not push that good feeling. Message received, Universe. Message received. (You can’t see this, but I just looked at the sky, raised my hand, and impotently shook my fist in rage.)
Back to one, deep breath
One of my biggest lessons, of many from this past hospital stay is there is no such thing as a last chance for me. I changed my way of thinking of my hospital stays. I have always understood that they will be part of my life, but when I would leave, I would think, “This stay will be the last time.”
This time, I had enough time to realize that there were so many things I could not anticipate, that I cannot think of any time in the hospital as my last time, and my recovery my last chance. Yes, after 20 years I understand that I will get knocked down, but I’ll get up again.
Hope helps, but knowing I’m going to recover helps more, because it’s not a matter of “if” it’s “when” I feel better.
Of course I cannot predict the future, but I can have a positive outlook. Not unrealistic, just more than hopeful. never hope I’m going to get well. I know I am going to get well. And even though we never really “know” everything, it doesn’t hurt to act as if I will have a full recovery. People would say to me “I hope this gets better for you.” My reply was usually, “I know it will get better.”
Positive thinking helps, but I must do the work it requires to get better. There is nothing wrong with being stubborn, and I am living proof.
So, about the exercise…
I’m working with a trainer to build my strength from the inside out. Along with strengthening the large muscles, I must work on the small ones as well, especially my core and upper body. Right now, I am using light weights and rubber bands. These exercises may look small, but I can feel he work I’m doing. The exercises I do are no impact where my feet are concerned, and since I have lots of work to do on my core, there is plenty to keep me busy until I can do a full plank again.
It’s not easy, it probably won’t be the last time I need to restart, but starting again is so worth it.
I just share this stuff. Here is one of many events about how I know why medicine is called, ‘practice”.
A Meeting of The Minds
January 23rd was my follow up appointment for my foot. I am always interested to learn something new about how the human body works, what it does when the human body acts unexpectedly, and it was about me- so of course, I was riveted.
In the treatment room were the orthopedist, infectious disease doctor and three other doctors who were there to learn, and me. I’ve learned to accept my role as a test subject. Not only does it feed my ego and distract me from worry, I am encouraged to learn and share with others who might find my experience helpful. Plus, I would love to read about others who may have prevented a 45 day hospital stay, or loss of a limb but adapting to the situation. (Share in the comments. Go on, testify! And enjoy an ego trip that will help someone else.)Back on topic.
Did she, or didn’t she?
Did I really have osteomyelitis? It was what I felt a very valid question between the doctors. Less than two weeks after my discharge, I did not look like a patient who just spent 45 days in the hospital. I came to my appointment dressed in jeans, Ugg Boots, a sweater and looking good. I did not in any way look like someone who was ill or recovering, except for my knee scooter.
I took both shoes and socks off. I believe that during examination of visible body parts that do come in pairs, doctors should see the “mate” for comparison. Before I even heard the word, “scleroderma”, I had cute, Flintstone-ian feet. That day, I presented my two Flinstonian feet for examination. Really, my feet look pretty good for someone who has had circulatory problems thanks to Raynaud’s, for 20 ears and counting. My toes are fused straight on the second knuckle of all my toes, but I can still wiggle them when I want to. A tendon on the third toe on my right foot is so weak, the toe appears to be trying to twisting toward the second toe. The orthopedist suggested I do the “buddy system” with those toes by taping them together to get that middle toe stronger and help straighten my twisty-toe. What a simple solution. I can’t believe I have never asked before. What are we talking about? Oh yeah, I almost lost my foot, but I didn’t.
We had a look at those feet-ies.
So the doctors examined both feet, but of course focused on my left two small toes, which sat there looking healthy and nourished with blood. I sat on the examining table as they congregated around the computer. I don’t think they were baffled, I think they were surprised. They looked at my hospital admitting MRI used to diagnose osteomyelitis, and there was doubt by these doctors I had osteomyelitis. But after looking at my MRI after discharge, they said it looked like I had osteomyelitis. There was discussion and debate between the doctors. Repeating it will only confuse matters more because a conversation between doctors who are educated in what they do will debate. (Remember; medicine is practiced, people.) Not strong debate, like an argument. I have every bit of confidence in you, reading this post and your intelligence. But I do not trust my ability to repeat what I heard, or thought I heard. It can become very easy for me to overanalyze statements. In conversations where critical thinking is used and then overheard by another, it’s very easy to take points out of context. For example, I could have walked away thinking I did not have osteomyelitis and I was over diagnosed. No, it’s not that simple. In the case of a remote possibly of loosing my foot, I want a doctor to err on the side of caution. A wait and see approach has more often than not, resulted in serious damage to my hands. And active or not. Yes, I lost 45 days of my life. Big deal. I’m still here and intact, or as they say in the 1980 movie, Airplane!, *”Free to pursue a life of religious fulfillment”.
Long story short…
This team of doctors had in their office a young patient, with complicated diagnoses and complications stemming from the damage done by not one, but two very not as-rare-as-you-think, unusual diseases. Having them together, that makes me an anomaly. Every doctor in that room had never seen a patient with both at the same time, and there I was ready to walk out and ease myself back into an active life. They looked at my MRI with showed there was no infection in my toes, but something was in my foot. Not on the bones, but next to them, which they thought was inflammation from one of the two diseases I had, most likely the scleroderma. Sarcoidosis effects my thoracic lymph nodes. My feet had no swelling or pain and I was not on any pain medication. This was not the usual outcome of someone who almost lost her foot to an infection. What they told me is they thought the course of antibiotics stopped the infection before it could get inside the bone. That sounded great to me and I’m sure a best possible outcome observed by those doctors, but now what?
We wait, observe, then doctors review test results and see me in 2 weeks.
I go back again in 2 weeks. Before I go, I am to get x-rays, blood work to see if I have inflammation present, in addition to the normal CBC Chem Panels and whatever else. I see the same doctors and we decide to where to go from there. If I have any symptoms of infection, I was instructed to go to the emergency room and have the Infectious Disease Team paged. ER docs are amazing and their competency is not doubted, but this anomaly must have no delays in treatment by the Infectious Disease Team. It really does make this anomaly feel special. (See what I just did there? I found a way to feel all warm and fuzzy about my medically complicated ass.)
You may be wondering, “But Karen, how does your ego trip help me?”
Well, if you take anything away from this, I want you to not hesitate to go to a doctor or emergency room if you have an infection in your own foot. If a treatment doesn’t work, don’t “wait and see” if symptoms do not improve. Waiting only gives an infection more time to get closer to your bone. Once it gets into your bone, it can get into your blood. Make no mistake, if you wait and it continues, you will loose your foot or possible have a life threatening infection in your blood.
But Karen, I cannot afford to pay for medical care.
Maybe. But can you afford to be rushed to the hospital by ambulance after collapsing from an infection in your blood? Can you afford to die? Look, we all know I get socialized healthcare from the Veteran’s Administration, but medical costs are not the only cost of a hospital stay. Remember, my car did get ticketed, towed, impounded, then repossessed by the finance company because the impound fees were about to exceed the value of my car. The second week I was in the hospital I had a choice. I could leave and go sit in a courtroom and fight this, putting my foot at risk of injury and speeding up the infection process, or sit still and use my energy to save my foot. I can always get another car and any bad reporting to my credit agency scares me as much as a fly in the room. My past is filled with drama stemming from a lack of money. Money comes and goes. When feet go, they are gone forever.
Go and get care. Your life and those who love you, depend on it.
I see statuses of people who are talking about an ongoing health problem that can quickly escalate into a life threatening health condition that could have been prevented with early intervention. The #1 reason people wait for medical treatment? Money. I’m not going to lie and make it pretty. I have been through a bankruptcy, continued horrifying credit and now repossession of my vehicle, as result of pushing aside those responsibilities for time with my son and doctor’s appointments that conflict with appointments at the DMV, or unexpected complications that put things like parking tickets or paying for my cable TV in the back of my mind. I have skipped a meal or two in the past to do be able to do something fun with my son, or pay for gas money to go see him. That no longer happens because doing so, puts my heath at risk. So I cut corners elsewhere.
Still not convinced the sore that won’t heal doesn’t need attention?
While in the hospital, and since my discharge, I have heard stories from amputees and family members of amputees with similar stories that began like mine: a swollen, infected foot. At the time of my infection I had no open sores, buy many talked about how they, or their loved ones had open sores and did not seek treatment. I have talked to so many people I cannot give you an accurate count. So, don’t take my word for it. It probably won’t take you long to find someone near you who either knows someone or has lost a limb to an infection that was not treated until it was too late. Don’t be someone who could have kept their foot with early intervention.
*Now, have a laugh.
My sense of humor comes from a steady diet of classic 80’s movies as a teenager. Please enjoy these clips from the 1980’s classic, Airplane! Scleroderma, sarcoidosis, diabetes and anything involving a terminal, chronic, or life threatening illness and be serious and soul sucking. Revive your spirit with some laughter. If you don;t like the clip I present, find your own. Laughing at what scares us, or finding something to make us laugh when scared only makes us stronger.