Welcome

Welcome to my latest blog. This shall be a rather lengthy entry bringing you up to speed with the host of mostly annoying medical issues that I've dealt with in my life. Most are diagnosed, some are not. Am I just a hypochondriac? You be the judge.

The first major health problem that I dealt with in my life was asthma and allergies. I was diagnosed at around the age of 9 or 10. I've since been hospitalized three or four times due to severe asthma attacks. I've been on steroids so many times that I can't count, used a nebulizer, and an inhaler. Every time spring or fall rolls around again, it rears its ugly head, though it has improved greatly now that I am in my late 20's.

A couple of years later, I was diagnosed with psoriasis. It started on my scalp and spread to my arms, legs, and other parts of my body. Nothing's greater than being a preteen that already has self esteem issues to suddenly find out that they have this affliction and there is no cure. I've been to several dermatologists and tried everything from home remedies to bathing in this smelly coal tar stuff, and found no relief. This particular condition will come and go based on many factors: weather, stress level, illness, exposure to sun, etc. At one point, my legs looked so bad that I jokingly called myself pepperoni pizza legs. I got used to people staring at the red blotches, and I was once asked, when I wore my hair up, if I'd suffered a severe burn. I got used to it. Sometimes, during the summer, I'd wear fishnets under my shorts or skirt. It looked cool and it partially covered my awful looking legs. Exposure to sun helped it to fade, and also, when I was on steroids for my asthma, it all but went away (due to the immunity component of psoriasis-it's an immune disease). Lately, it still comes and goes. It's largely cleared from my legs, but I get it on my scalp occasionally, and on my back a little bit, and in other places on my body.

When I was 13 and around the time that I started dealing with the psoriasis, a growth about the size of a pencil eraser was found on the right side of my scalp, near my forehead. A dermatologist biopsied it, thinking it may be cancerous, but luckily it was benign. I went under the knife to have it removed, nonetheless. It was my first surgery. Luckily, you can't see a scar, though I do have a tiny bald spot in my hair where it was removed.

Sometime shortly after, I was diagnosed with severe scoliosis. I've always been a bit sway-backed, but my posture had gotten worse. I'd also starting having back pain. One day, my mom asked me to stand up straight and I replied that I was. She traced her hand down my spine and found that it was curved. We made an appointment with an orthopedist, who took x rays and found that my spine had an s shaped curve. They measured the curve in degrees. Anything below 40 degrees was considered treatable with a brace. My curves were between 45-50 degrees, so it was recommended that I have spine surgery. I was scared to death.....

After a lot of research, my parents and I decided to go forward with the surgery. My curve was progressing, and my ribcage was pressing on my lungs and making it more difficult to breathe. This was going to be major surgery. I'd be in ICU, and in the hospital for about a week. I had to donate my own blood for use after the surgery. I remember, the night before I was to be admitted to the hospital, I had my cousin (and best friend at the time) spend the night. My parents took us out for my favorite food:Mexican. It felt like my last day on Earth.

Only July 16, 1997, when I was 14 and just prior to my start in high school, I had the surgery. It took at least 5 or 6 hours. I received an incision from between my shoulder blades, all the way down to my hips. They used a cranking mechanism to straighten my spine, screwed in two long Harrington rods into my vertebrae to keep it all straight, and took bits of bone from my hip to fuse all the bones into one solid mass. I remember waking up and being wheeled down the hall. I saw family members and friends waiting in the hall and I waved at them in a woozy state. I remember being grateful that I was awake (I didn't die!) and that I could wiggle my toes (I wasn't paralyzed after they worked so close to my spinal cord) I don't remember feeling any pain, yet, as I was heavily medicated. I was taken to pediatric ICU, where my parents were waiting. It was a windowless room with a small television on a long metal arm that I could adjust to place right in front of my face. I was hooked up to a morphine pump, but I was still under the effects of the anesthesia as well. I had a NG tube, which didn't provide nutrition (I got that via IV) but kept the contents of my stomach empty. I was flat on my back and couldn't turn. I had the pressure stockings on my legs to prevent blood clots. Every few hours, a nurse would come in and turn me to a different side, using a foam wedge as a support. Then I'd get time on my back, which I hated. I'd rather be lying on one side or the other. Don't get me wrong- the pain was intense- but what bothered me more was not being able to move about as I wished!! The morphine pump kept the pain at bay, and also keep me largely unconscious for several days. I remember babbling to a few of the nurses about how it wasn't so bad- it was all about having a positive outlook, or some crap like that. The meds were talking.

After about three days, I was able to go out of ICU and into a normal room. The NG tube was gone, and a nurse came in and stated that she wanted me to get up and try to walk. Was she nuts???????? I thought. She helped swing me over to the side of the bed and I remember my feet dangling over the edge. I didn't want to get up yet. I wasn't ready!!! At this point, they had removed my catheter and I really had to go to the bathroom. So I got up, and shuffled as fast as I could shuffle. My first steps almost ended up becoming a sprint to the bathroom. It was still really scary though. I felt like one of those baby birds on the nature program, learning to walk on unsteady legs. But I made it!!

After about eight days I was released from the hospital but would be on bed rest at home for at least two weeks. I was sent home with a script for Lorcet and told to get lots of rest. I remember spending most of my days lying on the couch, watching TV, or sitting up for a few minutes, piecing together a zigsaw puzzle and listening to music. For every 30 minutes that I'd sit up, I'd have to lie back down for at least an hour to make up for it. In the morning when I woke up, I'd have to call out to my mom for help to get out of bed. It was rough, but in less than four weeks since my surgery, school started back and I didn't miss a day.

Another thing I've struggled with since I was about sixteen was depression, anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder. I'd lie awake at night, obsessive thoughts going through my head. I thought I was going to hell even though I didn't really believe the thoughts going through my head (things of an evil, blasphemous nature). Then I'd lie in bed, worrying about hell. Luckily, by my junior year, my guidance counselor (a phD) said it sounded like I had OCD. I was so relieved that it had a name and I wasn't going crazy!! I'd suffered from panic attacks for years, as had my brother. I started seeing a psychiatrist and going to therapy and it got so much better.

Things were pretty smooth sailing (outside the occasional bouts of depression/anxiety etc) throughout the rest of my teen years and into my early twenties. At around the age of 25, I started developing numbness that started out in my toes and spread to my entire feet. Around the same time, I started developing debilitating weak spells. Some days I could sleep for twelve hours, get up for a bit, and then feel like I'd have to take another nap. A lot of people said it was just my depression, but I didn't FEEL depressed, just tired. Thinking back, these were some of the symptoms I'd had in high school with my depression, which caused me to miss days of school. Later on, the weak spells became more acute. I'd be having a completely normal, fully functional day, when out of nowhere, I'd get a weak spell that was so bad that I'd have to sit or even lie down. I remember times where I'd be inside, say, Walmart, and I'd have to sit down in the middle of the floor. Some days I'd be sitting down at work and I couldn't even hold my head up. It lasted for about an hour or so and would usually go away.

I was tested for everything known to man: thyroid disorder, adrenal disease, diabetes, hypoglycemia... you name it. The only thing they could find was a slight b12 deficiency. I started daily b12 injections and felt on top of the world again.

In November 2008, after weeks of noticing the numbness and tingling was starting to climb up my legs, it took over the left side of my body. My left arm went completely numb and the left side of my face and body did, too. I could barely walk. I started tripping over my own legs. I went to the emergency room. At this point I was slurring my speech and they thought I was having a stroke. They admitted me, and I was in the hospital for three days. They checked for stroke, MS, and other diseases. The neurologist couldn't find anything. No one could. The numbness eventually went back to just being in my lower legs. I was discharged and told it was anxiety.

The numbness is a constant in my lower legs. Occasionally, it will come back up to my upper legs or my left arm (always my left arm only). I occasionally get the weak spells, probably about twice a week or so. I just put my head down and ride it out. I don't know what else to do.

As far as my psychiatric health, I was on antidepressants again last year, and I quit taking them because of the side effects. I felt largely fine, except when I started to withdraw from them, I started having crazy mood swings. Like fits of rage in which I become violent. I can't control my words. I'd break things or slap people. My psychiatrist suggested bipolar disorder, but I didn't seem to have the depression component of that. I recently started a mood stabilizer, Lamictal, last week, but I can't tell if it is helping or not yet.

Also, in 2009, I had a small piece of one of my rods removed from my spine because of pain it was causing. At first, I considered nerve damage from the original surgery as the culprit for my neurological symptoms, but if that were the case, why does it come and go as it does?

That's all I'll write for today. I'll try to keep future posts more concise, more about my day to day feelings.

-Ash