Dear all,
I'm moving on - to a new blog that is - see me if you so wish at 'The New Model Housewife'
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Monday, 3 January 2011
OCD & Me - Coming out of the wardrobe
For years I've known in my hearts of hearts that I have a mental health problem. I've been partly open and partly in denial about it coming close to talking about it so many times but then convincing myself that I shouldn't. Until now I've only joked about it with other people and only then because my odd behaviour has been observed.
I'm obsessed with ensuring that things are unplugged. In the days before camera phones I had to go back and check all the devices in my flat or my place of work were unplugged before I left because I was convinced that if I didn't they would catch fire. This was negative because even if I'd checked once, I'd have to go back and check two three or more times. Often it made me late for work. Once I'd got a camera phone, one of my colleagues who'd seen me doing this recommended that I take a picture instead to reassure myself. Now each of my old mobile phones has hundreds of pictures of plugs of places I have been living and working. It hasn't been as bad recently but only because my other half works from home and therefore because he is at home it doesn't matter (in my mind) if things are left plugged in.
This doesn't sound so bad I suppose but if I'm honest, it has stopped me from doing things. I now often avoid events where I might be perceived to be responsible for unplugging something or switching it off. I'm also really limited in my career options because I'm afraid I might end up responsible for switching things off. For example in the last few months I have disregarded several job opportunities such as being a receptionist because there was a possibility that I might end up solely responsible for switching things off such as a PC or printer.
My other problem is with writing things down. For some reason I'm terrified that I might have made an error or somehow subconsciously written something offensive on an email or letter that I have sent out. In the last month at both work and home I have sealed envelopes only to open them up again and have to write new ones. I sealed and reopened about 20 of my Christmas cards. At work I've got around it in most cases because luckily they require you to save electronic copies of the letters you send out and to take photocopies for paper files. Because I'm then able to check the photocopies I don't feel as bad. I also read and reread emails about five or six times because I'm worried about what I might have written. I now can't leave the office without checking all the emails I have sent that day despite the fact that I check almost every email in my sent items once I have sent it.
My Christmas cards were almost late going out this year because I was so worried that I didn't want to post them. I may even get into trouble at work because it takes me too long to do a simple task like sending out letters.
The other major way it is impacting on me at the moment is that I'm afraid to go on holiday. I don't like leaving the house even for a weekend. Although I'm fine once we've actually left I feel very uncomfortable and unhappy. I have to take photos of all the plugs and other things and make my other half check the windows are locked. I feel sick as we walk away.
I also have these spontaneous worries that pop up when I don't expect them which also make me sick and uncomfortable. There are many other long term and old ones that I don't even want to go into.
This winter break I decided to try and do something about it and because people had joked in the past that I had OCD I decided to pick up a book about it. It's odd because in a way I knew that I did have it but I was in denial as well. Part of the problem is (which I've read other people experience too) that as soon as I'm out of a period or moment of feeling anxiety or fear and I feel sort of normal again, I don't want to think about it or look at ways of getting better because I just want to forget about it all.
I picked up a book called Overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I'm only on page 29 and so far it has been both horrifying and interesting. It's been interesting because I recognise a lot of myself in the examples they use. It's been horrifying because I've taken one of the self assessment tests in the back and this pretty much shows that I definitely have it. Now I feel scared because I have to face it now. The book says you can overcome it but I feel like I can't and that it has such a powerful hold over me that I'm not strong enough to do it. I'm scared because I suspect that as well as this I have a problem with anxiety too which means I'm facing two problems. I'm also from a family which is very much of the 'pull your socks up and get on with it' tradition. In the past my attempts to come out of the wardrobe (I'm British I don't do closets) have been rebuffed when I've sought help from one family member so I have the fear of that. I'm also afraid because I know the mentally ill are stigmatised and that is frightening too.
I've decided to post this here because at the moment I'm tempted to close the book and forget about it and just try to muddle through like I have been doing. I'm hoping that by outing myself and putting this out in the world I won't be able to do that. I'm hoping this is the first step along this scary path and that once it's out there and I'm not hiding my problems any more I will of overcome the hurdle of telling people. Part of the reason I've failed to sort this out before is because when I want to say something I realise that the things I worry about are silly. I can't form the words because I'm afraid of being judged as absurd and crazy for feeling this way. Yet even while I do this I still continue to worry because they still feel true in my own head.
Thanks for listening.
I'm obsessed with ensuring that things are unplugged. In the days before camera phones I had to go back and check all the devices in my flat or my place of work were unplugged before I left because I was convinced that if I didn't they would catch fire. This was negative because even if I'd checked once, I'd have to go back and check two three or more times. Often it made me late for work. Once I'd got a camera phone, one of my colleagues who'd seen me doing this recommended that I take a picture instead to reassure myself. Now each of my old mobile phones has hundreds of pictures of plugs of places I have been living and working. It hasn't been as bad recently but only because my other half works from home and therefore because he is at home it doesn't matter (in my mind) if things are left plugged in.
This doesn't sound so bad I suppose but if I'm honest, it has stopped me from doing things. I now often avoid events where I might be perceived to be responsible for unplugging something or switching it off. I'm also really limited in my career options because I'm afraid I might end up responsible for switching things off. For example in the last few months I have disregarded several job opportunities such as being a receptionist because there was a possibility that I might end up solely responsible for switching things off such as a PC or printer.
My other problem is with writing things down. For some reason I'm terrified that I might have made an error or somehow subconsciously written something offensive on an email or letter that I have sent out. In the last month at both work and home I have sealed envelopes only to open them up again and have to write new ones. I sealed and reopened about 20 of my Christmas cards. At work I've got around it in most cases because luckily they require you to save electronic copies of the letters you send out and to take photocopies for paper files. Because I'm then able to check the photocopies I don't feel as bad. I also read and reread emails about five or six times because I'm worried about what I might have written. I now can't leave the office without checking all the emails I have sent that day despite the fact that I check almost every email in my sent items once I have sent it.
My Christmas cards were almost late going out this year because I was so worried that I didn't want to post them. I may even get into trouble at work because it takes me too long to do a simple task like sending out letters.
The other major way it is impacting on me at the moment is that I'm afraid to go on holiday. I don't like leaving the house even for a weekend. Although I'm fine once we've actually left I feel very uncomfortable and unhappy. I have to take photos of all the plugs and other things and make my other half check the windows are locked. I feel sick as we walk away.
I also have these spontaneous worries that pop up when I don't expect them which also make me sick and uncomfortable. There are many other long term and old ones that I don't even want to go into.
This winter break I decided to try and do something about it and because people had joked in the past that I had OCD I decided to pick up a book about it. It's odd because in a way I knew that I did have it but I was in denial as well. Part of the problem is (which I've read other people experience too) that as soon as I'm out of a period or moment of feeling anxiety or fear and I feel sort of normal again, I don't want to think about it or look at ways of getting better because I just want to forget about it all.
I picked up a book called Overcoming Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I'm only on page 29 and so far it has been both horrifying and interesting. It's been interesting because I recognise a lot of myself in the examples they use. It's been horrifying because I've taken one of the self assessment tests in the back and this pretty much shows that I definitely have it. Now I feel scared because I have to face it now. The book says you can overcome it but I feel like I can't and that it has such a powerful hold over me that I'm not strong enough to do it. I'm scared because I suspect that as well as this I have a problem with anxiety too which means I'm facing two problems. I'm also from a family which is very much of the 'pull your socks up and get on with it' tradition. In the past my attempts to come out of the wardrobe (I'm British I don't do closets) have been rebuffed when I've sought help from one family member so I have the fear of that. I'm also afraid because I know the mentally ill are stigmatised and that is frightening too.
I've decided to post this here because at the moment I'm tempted to close the book and forget about it and just try to muddle through like I have been doing. I'm hoping that by outing myself and putting this out in the world I won't be able to do that. I'm hoping this is the first step along this scary path and that once it's out there and I'm not hiding my problems any more I will of overcome the hurdle of telling people. Part of the reason I've failed to sort this out before is because when I want to say something I realise that the things I worry about are silly. I can't form the words because I'm afraid of being judged as absurd and crazy for feeling this way. Yet even while I do this I still continue to worry because they still feel true in my own head.
Thanks for listening.
Saturday, 11 September 2010
A thousand other things
When an addict slips back into destructive old patterns they are said to have 'fallen off the wagon'. This creates an image of something sudden and dramatic which causes them to regress to old behaviours.
In the last month or so I have reverted back to my destructive health patterns. Not that I had made that much progress to begin with, but I was doing a little better. I can't claim that I've fallen off the wagon. There was no single event that caused me to plunge from the Vehicle of Good Health which was travelling on the Road to Good Living and fall into the cold wet gutter of good intentions gone bad. It didn't happen overnight but it was a series little knocks, plus a thousand other distractions that have taken my time and attention from where it should be.
Since I'm trying to get back on the Vehicle of Good Health (which is very difficult to catch up to, that thing moves very quickly and why they can't build in seatbelts so you can't fall off in the first place I'll never know) this is as a good a time as any to look at how I started to go 'wrong' and why this happened in the first place. I think my health is hampered by years of unhealthy habits and that it's helpful to look at where these habits began.
I think my IBS symptoms and my other health problems probably have their roots in my adolescent years. It was in these years and during puberty that I started to become a really anxious person. While I don't believe that IBS is psychosomatic or completely caused by anxiety or other mental afflictions, I do believe that it's a factor. I got into the habit of worrying too much and being constantly on edge.
In my late teens I also became a not very good vegetarian. I was good in the sense that I never ate meat but I was bad in the sense that I didn't take care of my nutrition. My mother used to refer to me as a vegetarian who didn't eat vegetables and I'm afraid that was very accurate. I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm failing to get my recommended 5 portions a day. The habit of eating to satisfy sugar cravings rather than to nourish my body began then.
It was also during my schooling that I learnt to loath exercise. PE lessons were nearly always based around competitive sport which didn't suit me. I don't have much of a competitive nature, wasn't good at sport or interested in it so most of the lessons didn't suit me. Those that were based on physical fitness alone such as circuit training were far more demanding then I was able to cope with. None of the gentle exercise I suspect I really needed, such as Yoga or even just walking, were on offer. So I got into the habit of negative thinking about exercise. It began to represent boredom and exhaustion rather then something fulfilling and helpful.
So with these unhelpful habits I embarked on my adult life. The years between then and now have not been an unproductive waste land. I completed a degree, got jobs and got engaged. I never however tackled my health issues effectively. IBS became a daily fact of life and my unhealthy lifestyle caused me to slowly put on more and more weight. I went to the doctors from time to time to seek help with my IBS but I was given medications that didn’t work and told to lose weight without any really help or guidance on how to do it.
About six months ago I decided that I needed to do something about my weight. Now before you read the next bit of this story I need you to understand something. I'm not a fan of our stick thin is best culture. In fact I believe it's a load of rubbish, couldn't give a fig leaf for fashion and actually don't particularly care if I look fat or not. I'm not really sure how I managed to survive the indoctrination that our media imposes on most women, but somehow I've managed to get through with my self esteem about my weight fairly intact. However I reached a point where my weight was making me physically uncomfortable. I felt inflexible and literally heavy and weighed down by my own weight gain. I also decided that joining a weight loss group would be a lot cheaper than the new wardrobe I was going to have to buy to cope with my increasing size.
I joined a weight loss group and surprised myself with my own willpower and ability to stick to the diet carefully. I believed I was eating more healthily then I had in years and I began to saw results. I was initially disappointed that the change in diet had made no change in my IBS symptoms but I put that concern to one side as the weight began to slowly melt away.
Even though I wasn't feeling any healthier I had lost a significant amount of weight and I was pleased with this. Until the day I noticed that there was a lot more hair then usual on the floor of the shower. I began to notice that my hair was everywhere, strewn across my house. My office chair at work was covered in it and every time I ran my hands through it more would come out. There were no bald patches, just a constant sustained hair loss.
Like I always do when I have a health concern I made a panicked rush for Google. I know this is the worst thing you can do because you will always inevitably find ways to convince yourself that your symptoms are the result of some hideous and rare condition, but I'm already an anxious person and the internet wasn't going to come up with anything worse then what I was imagining.
I decided to consult my doctor who took blood tests. He then asked me to come back for more blood tests. Then another round of blood tests. As you can imagine this was somewhat stressful not to mention sore for my poor arm.
To cut a very long story short the test revealed that I have deficiencies in calcium, iron and probably vitamin D (although I still await the result of that test). I also have an elevated platelet count. None of this seemed to be related to my hair loss which fortunately seems to have tailed off now. I can only conclude that I had an episode of telogen effluvium . During this health scare I decided to give up the diet as my research had shown that hair loss had been shown to be related to dieting. I was also interested to note that telogen effluvium generally makes itself known three months after a stress or change to the body, which was about the same time that I’d begun dieting.
I had another appointment with my doctor to discuss these results. They were such a scare for me, it was clear that I’d been going badly wrong with my health and I felt that I desperately needed to make a change for the better. I prepared well for the appointment, wrote down a list of questions that I needed answers to and decided I wanted a referral to a professional nutritionist or dietician because I knew that I needed the help both to change my lifestyle and to lose weight in a healthier manner.
Unfortunately my doctor didn’t entirely agree. He agreed that I’d been doing it all wrong and that my diet group was more counterproductive then helpful. He agreed that I needed to change my lifestyle not just my diet. He also agreed that I needed to lose weight in a healthy sustained way.
He didn’t agree that I needed the help of a professional. His advice was to eat more whole foods and get out in the sun more. He told me that my nutritional deficiencies while present were not uncommon. He told me to take a course of iron supplements and that was pretty much it.
I left the appointment feeling pretty deflated. I understand that NHS resources are stretched but how ill do I have to be before I get some help? Isn’t it better to nip my health issues in the bud now while I’m still young and can hopefully be set on the right path? I hear scare stories almost every day about how bad diets are causing serious health issues that cost the NHS thousands, and yet when I ask for help I’m pretty much denied. Surely we’d all save money if people like me got the help before things got worse not better?
I realised that I’d have to tackle this alone. I got myself down to the health food shop and I bought the supplements for my mineral deficiencies as well as psyllium husks and probiotic capsules to deal with my IBS. I stuck to my regime of tablets (which is pretty difficult, more on that story later) and looked to the future.
The future was about three days away. The whole thing went wrong when I developed some sort of nasty stomach issue. Let’s just refer to it as IBS max plus nausea. I felt physically and emotionally lousy. So I gave up.
I told myself that I’d have a rest for a few days and that I’d get back to focusing on my health and my new lifestyle later. I swore that I’d update this blog tomorrow. I promised that I’d start exercising next week.
Of course I didn’t keep those promises. A thousand little things got in my way. I was working on a big event, then I was job seeking, then I had to phone someone, do some work, clean something, make something, read something. The thousands of little things pulled me away from where I was trying to get to.
I could have overcome the thousand little things if I wasn’t lacking the one big thing, a firm belief that change is possible. My failure to get the help I believe I need has robbed me of that belief. I have a huge challenge to overcome. I have to change the habits of more than ten years and get to a better place, all while feeling tired, anxious and confused about the right path to take.
Right now I don’t know which way this is going to go. If I’m going to make these changes I need help, but I don’t know where to seek it from, who to trust or if I can afford the right sort of professional help when I find it.
There is an old proverb often wheeled out on occasions like this which says a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. I know that this is going to be true of my journey and that I’m going to have to forget about the fast route and catching up with the Vehicle of Good Health and just walk to Good Living myself. I’m hanging onto the hope that while I’m searching I’ll be able to find some people or resources that can at least point me to walking in the right direction.
In the last month or so I have reverted back to my destructive health patterns. Not that I had made that much progress to begin with, but I was doing a little better. I can't claim that I've fallen off the wagon. There was no single event that caused me to plunge from the Vehicle of Good Health which was travelling on the Road to Good Living and fall into the cold wet gutter of good intentions gone bad. It didn't happen overnight but it was a series little knocks, plus a thousand other distractions that have taken my time and attention from where it should be.
Since I'm trying to get back on the Vehicle of Good Health (which is very difficult to catch up to, that thing moves very quickly and why they can't build in seatbelts so you can't fall off in the first place I'll never know) this is as a good a time as any to look at how I started to go 'wrong' and why this happened in the first place. I think my health is hampered by years of unhealthy habits and that it's helpful to look at where these habits began.
I think my IBS symptoms and my other health problems probably have their roots in my adolescent years. It was in these years and during puberty that I started to become a really anxious person. While I don't believe that IBS is psychosomatic or completely caused by anxiety or other mental afflictions, I do believe that it's a factor. I got into the habit of worrying too much and being constantly on edge.
In my late teens I also became a not very good vegetarian. I was good in the sense that I never ate meat but I was bad in the sense that I didn't take care of my nutrition. My mother used to refer to me as a vegetarian who didn't eat vegetables and I'm afraid that was very accurate. I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm failing to get my recommended 5 portions a day. The habit of eating to satisfy sugar cravings rather than to nourish my body began then.
It was also during my schooling that I learnt to loath exercise. PE lessons were nearly always based around competitive sport which didn't suit me. I don't have much of a competitive nature, wasn't good at sport or interested in it so most of the lessons didn't suit me. Those that were based on physical fitness alone such as circuit training were far more demanding then I was able to cope with. None of the gentle exercise I suspect I really needed, such as Yoga or even just walking, were on offer. So I got into the habit of negative thinking about exercise. It began to represent boredom and exhaustion rather then something fulfilling and helpful.
So with these unhelpful habits I embarked on my adult life. The years between then and now have not been an unproductive waste land. I completed a degree, got jobs and got engaged. I never however tackled my health issues effectively. IBS became a daily fact of life and my unhealthy lifestyle caused me to slowly put on more and more weight. I went to the doctors from time to time to seek help with my IBS but I was given medications that didn’t work and told to lose weight without any really help or guidance on how to do it.
About six months ago I decided that I needed to do something about my weight. Now before you read the next bit of this story I need you to understand something. I'm not a fan of our stick thin is best culture. In fact I believe it's a load of rubbish, couldn't give a fig leaf for fashion and actually don't particularly care if I look fat or not. I'm not really sure how I managed to survive the indoctrination that our media imposes on most women, but somehow I've managed to get through with my self esteem about my weight fairly intact. However I reached a point where my weight was making me physically uncomfortable. I felt inflexible and literally heavy and weighed down by my own weight gain. I also decided that joining a weight loss group would be a lot cheaper than the new wardrobe I was going to have to buy to cope with my increasing size.
I joined a weight loss group and surprised myself with my own willpower and ability to stick to the diet carefully. I believed I was eating more healthily then I had in years and I began to saw results. I was initially disappointed that the change in diet had made no change in my IBS symptoms but I put that concern to one side as the weight began to slowly melt away.
Even though I wasn't feeling any healthier I had lost a significant amount of weight and I was pleased with this. Until the day I noticed that there was a lot more hair then usual on the floor of the shower. I began to notice that my hair was everywhere, strewn across my house. My office chair at work was covered in it and every time I ran my hands through it more would come out. There were no bald patches, just a constant sustained hair loss.
Like I always do when I have a health concern I made a panicked rush for Google. I know this is the worst thing you can do because you will always inevitably find ways to convince yourself that your symptoms are the result of some hideous and rare condition, but I'm already an anxious person and the internet wasn't going to come up with anything worse then what I was imagining.
I decided to consult my doctor who took blood tests. He then asked me to come back for more blood tests. Then another round of blood tests. As you can imagine this was somewhat stressful not to mention sore for my poor arm.
To cut a very long story short the test revealed that I have deficiencies in calcium, iron and probably vitamin D (although I still await the result of that test). I also have an elevated platelet count. None of this seemed to be related to my hair loss which fortunately seems to have tailed off now. I can only conclude that I had an episode of telogen effluvium . During this health scare I decided to give up the diet as my research had shown that hair loss had been shown to be related to dieting. I was also interested to note that telogen effluvium generally makes itself known three months after a stress or change to the body, which was about the same time that I’d begun dieting.
I had another appointment with my doctor to discuss these results. They were such a scare for me, it was clear that I’d been going badly wrong with my health and I felt that I desperately needed to make a change for the better. I prepared well for the appointment, wrote down a list of questions that I needed answers to and decided I wanted a referral to a professional nutritionist or dietician because I knew that I needed the help both to change my lifestyle and to lose weight in a healthier manner.
Unfortunately my doctor didn’t entirely agree. He agreed that I’d been doing it all wrong and that my diet group was more counterproductive then helpful. He agreed that I needed to change my lifestyle not just my diet. He also agreed that I needed to lose weight in a healthy sustained way.
He didn’t agree that I needed the help of a professional. His advice was to eat more whole foods and get out in the sun more. He told me that my nutritional deficiencies while present were not uncommon. He told me to take a course of iron supplements and that was pretty much it.
I left the appointment feeling pretty deflated. I understand that NHS resources are stretched but how ill do I have to be before I get some help? Isn’t it better to nip my health issues in the bud now while I’m still young and can hopefully be set on the right path? I hear scare stories almost every day about how bad diets are causing serious health issues that cost the NHS thousands, and yet when I ask for help I’m pretty much denied. Surely we’d all save money if people like me got the help before things got worse not better?
I realised that I’d have to tackle this alone. I got myself down to the health food shop and I bought the supplements for my mineral deficiencies as well as psyllium husks and probiotic capsules to deal with my IBS. I stuck to my regime of tablets (which is pretty difficult, more on that story later) and looked to the future.
The future was about three days away. The whole thing went wrong when I developed some sort of nasty stomach issue. Let’s just refer to it as IBS max plus nausea. I felt physically and emotionally lousy. So I gave up.
I told myself that I’d have a rest for a few days and that I’d get back to focusing on my health and my new lifestyle later. I swore that I’d update this blog tomorrow. I promised that I’d start exercising next week.
Of course I didn’t keep those promises. A thousand little things got in my way. I was working on a big event, then I was job seeking, then I had to phone someone, do some work, clean something, make something, read something. The thousands of little things pulled me away from where I was trying to get to.
I could have overcome the thousand little things if I wasn’t lacking the one big thing, a firm belief that change is possible. My failure to get the help I believe I need has robbed me of that belief. I have a huge challenge to overcome. I have to change the habits of more than ten years and get to a better place, all while feeling tired, anxious and confused about the right path to take.
Right now I don’t know which way this is going to go. If I’m going to make these changes I need help, but I don’t know where to seek it from, who to trust or if I can afford the right sort of professional help when I find it.
There is an old proverb often wheeled out on occasions like this which says a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. I know that this is going to be true of my journey and that I’m going to have to forget about the fast route and catching up with the Vehicle of Good Health and just walk to Good Living myself. I’m hanging onto the hope that while I’m searching I’ll be able to find some people or resources that can at least point me to walking in the right direction.
Monday, 16 August 2010
Cystitis - more suffering hidden by embarrassment
I can really sympathise with this article posted on 'The F Word' although I think broadly speaking IBS sufferers get a better time of it. Perhaps this is because it is an illness which effects men (although it mostly seems to target women).
I understand the frustration of going to a doctor and having your condition dismissed as non serious or trivial. Luckily the doctors at my current practice are much more sympathetic and are taking the time to help me work through my difficulties with IBS. I also understand the pain of cystitis, having once rather unfortunately been forced to resort to visiting accident and emergency because of it.
I'd suffered from the infection in the past and at the time had been told by my doctor to drink cranberry juice to stop it happening again. Some time later I found that I had a minor infection again and tried to get an appointment at my doctors to get some antibiotics. My doctor couldn't see me that day and probably not the day after that. With no where to turn to, I drank cranberry juice in the hope that this natural remedy would sort me out.
I woke up in the middle of that night with the most agonising pain both in my urninary tract and in my kidneys. I didn't really know where my kidneys were before that night, but right then they were so red hot with pain that I could have surgically removed them myself.
Barely able to move, I had to get my friend to take me to the local A+E. I remember sitting there with a large bowl for fear that I'd be sick. I was taken into triage by a male nurse who had a slightly dismissive attitude when I told him my complaint. To be fair to him, I'm not the sort of person who roles around in pain making a fuss so perhaps I didn't look as bad as I felt.
What frustrates me about the whole incident is what happens next. I provided a urine sample, he used one of those dip tests. I watched him do it and I can remember him almost starting back with shock when he saw the result, after which his attitude was totally different. He told me that I had a 'raging' infection and ushured me through to one of the waiting rooms. I had blood tests to see if it had entered my kidneys which apparently it hadn't. To this day I'm not pursuaded of that, why they hurt so much if they weren't infected is beyond me.
The doctor who eventually saw me asked me what I'd been drinking and I told her I'd had a lot of cranberry juice. She told me it was the worst thing I could have done and that drinking sugary drinks makes the infection worse!
I still feel that a little minor but permenant damage was done that day. What irritates me is that it could have been avoided if I'd been able to see a Doctor straight away or see someone else who could deal with the problem.. Why if cystitis is so easy to diagnose can the test and antibiotics not be offered by nurses working in GPs practises? The infection moves so quickly and becomes unmanagble so quickly that early intervention is crucial. In these times where GPs are more stretched then ever surely the responsibility for dealing with such a common yet easy to diagnose and treat ailment could be handed down to Nurses? Also why was the information I was provided so contradictory? Some Doctors have told me to drink Cranberry juice, another has told me its a bad move.
The next time it happened I didn't even wait for the next morning to try and get a GPs appointment, I took myself straight to the NHS walk-in centre and got my antibiotics.
The F Word - Cystitis
This website I have linked to is website discussing feminist issues. It contains information that some readers might find triggering.
I understand the frustration of going to a doctor and having your condition dismissed as non serious or trivial. Luckily the doctors at my current practice are much more sympathetic and are taking the time to help me work through my difficulties with IBS. I also understand the pain of cystitis, having once rather unfortunately been forced to resort to visiting accident and emergency because of it.
I'd suffered from the infection in the past and at the time had been told by my doctor to drink cranberry juice to stop it happening again. Some time later I found that I had a minor infection again and tried to get an appointment at my doctors to get some antibiotics. My doctor couldn't see me that day and probably not the day after that. With no where to turn to, I drank cranberry juice in the hope that this natural remedy would sort me out.
I woke up in the middle of that night with the most agonising pain both in my urninary tract and in my kidneys. I didn't really know where my kidneys were before that night, but right then they were so red hot with pain that I could have surgically removed them myself.
Barely able to move, I had to get my friend to take me to the local A+E. I remember sitting there with a large bowl for fear that I'd be sick. I was taken into triage by a male nurse who had a slightly dismissive attitude when I told him my complaint. To be fair to him, I'm not the sort of person who roles around in pain making a fuss so perhaps I didn't look as bad as I felt.
What frustrates me about the whole incident is what happens next. I provided a urine sample, he used one of those dip tests. I watched him do it and I can remember him almost starting back with shock when he saw the result, after which his attitude was totally different. He told me that I had a 'raging' infection and ushured me through to one of the waiting rooms. I had blood tests to see if it had entered my kidneys which apparently it hadn't. To this day I'm not pursuaded of that, why they hurt so much if they weren't infected is beyond me.
The doctor who eventually saw me asked me what I'd been drinking and I told her I'd had a lot of cranberry juice. She told me it was the worst thing I could have done and that drinking sugary drinks makes the infection worse!
I still feel that a little minor but permenant damage was done that day. What irritates me is that it could have been avoided if I'd been able to see a Doctor straight away or see someone else who could deal with the problem.. Why if cystitis is so easy to diagnose can the test and antibiotics not be offered by nurses working in GPs practises? The infection moves so quickly and becomes unmanagble so quickly that early intervention is crucial. In these times where GPs are more stretched then ever surely the responsibility for dealing with such a common yet easy to diagnose and treat ailment could be handed down to Nurses? Also why was the information I was provided so contradictory? Some Doctors have told me to drink Cranberry juice, another has told me its a bad move.
The next time it happened I didn't even wait for the next morning to try and get a GPs appointment, I took myself straight to the NHS walk-in centre and got my antibiotics.
The F Word - Cystitis
This website I have linked to is website discussing feminist issues. It contains information that some readers might find triggering.
Monday, 9 August 2010
What I ate today - 9th August 2010
I'm still getting my act together on the organisational front, so today's lunch included yesterday's left overs. We'd had vegetarian hotdog sandwiches for tea and there were a couple left over to put in a salad.
Pulses wise I was down to my second to last tin of green lentils so I put them together with a tin of tomatoes spiced with the following.
I will make it again though as it was very tasty and filling. The chopped up sausages made it really interesting as they have a very deep savoury flavour.
Financially speaking it wasn't so bad either. Around 20p worth of vegetarian hotdog about 70p for the tin of lentils and about 45p for the tomatoes and a couple of pennies worth of spices. It works out at about £1.50 in total so just £0.75 per portion. Bargin!
 |
| With mayonnaise and wholegrain mustard. |
Pulses wise I was down to my second to last tin of green lentils so I put them together with a tin of tomatoes spiced with the following.
- 1 tsp chilli powder
- 1/2 tsp cumin
- Pinch of salt
- Pinch of tumeric
- 1 tsp smoked paprika
- 1/2 garam masala spice blend
- Some fresh ground black pepper.
At first taste this was somewhat bland so I ended up putting a load more chilli powder in. Unfortunately this was something of a mistake. The sauce was very spicy when I came to eat it at lunch time. Nevermind, lesson learned!
 |
| Mmm spicy . . . maybe too spicy! |
I will make it again though as it was very tasty and filling. The chopped up sausages made it really interesting as they have a very deep savoury flavour.
Financially speaking it wasn't so bad either. Around 20p worth of vegetarian hotdog about 70p for the tin of lentils and about 45p for the tomatoes and a couple of pennies worth of spices. It works out at about £1.50 in total so just £0.75 per portion. Bargin!
Insight into IBS: IBS and the Menstrual Cycle - A happy combination leading to joy
OK part of the title of this post was a lie.
Do you remember that ex-boyfriend of that friend of yours. You remember the one, he was always changing his behaviour, acting differently under different circumstances. He was really nice to her when they were alone, but he was a bit of prat when he was around his friends. Yeah you remember him.
My IBS is a bit like that. Except that it's a prat all the time, it's just a different sort of prat when it's friend Aunty Flo comes to visit and behaves as though it were a completely different condition. Gone is the constipation/diarrhoea alternating combination. Instead we have almost normal motions. I say almost normal, these motions come with an interesting side effect, what I like to think of as the Lamborghini effect. For those who are not familiar with fast cars (I include myself in this group, I had to Google this) the Lamborghini can go from 0mph to over 60mph in 4 seconds.
This is what my bowels like to do when Aunty Flo is around. They all get into her lovely Lamborghini and are just sat there relaxing. I'm totally calm and unaware when suddenly they make a bolt for it. In the space of a few seconds I've gone from not needing the loo at all to needing it so desperately I almost have to do that half crouched running to the loo dance.
The only positive thing I can say about this is that, unlike my IBS symptoms the rest of the time, this is at least predictable so I can prepare for it. Unfortunately it means that my activities on the days when I'm on my period are pretty limited.
So there you have it, another one of the joys of being an IBS sufferer.
Do you remember that ex-boyfriend of that friend of yours. You remember the one, he was always changing his behaviour, acting differently under different circumstances. He was really nice to her when they were alone, but he was a bit of prat when he was around his friends. Yeah you remember him.
My IBS is a bit like that. Except that it's a prat all the time, it's just a different sort of prat when it's friend Aunty Flo comes to visit and behaves as though it were a completely different condition. Gone is the constipation/diarrhoea alternating combination. Instead we have almost normal motions. I say almost normal, these motions come with an interesting side effect, what I like to think of as the Lamborghini effect. For those who are not familiar with fast cars (I include myself in this group, I had to Google this) the Lamborghini can go from 0mph to over 60mph in 4 seconds.
This is what my bowels like to do when Aunty Flo is around. They all get into her lovely Lamborghini and are just sat there relaxing. I'm totally calm and unaware when suddenly they make a bolt for it. In the space of a few seconds I've gone from not needing the loo at all to needing it so desperately I almost have to do that half crouched running to the loo dance.
The only positive thing I can say about this is that, unlike my IBS symptoms the rest of the time, this is at least predictable so I can prepare for it. Unfortunately it means that my activities on the days when I'm on my period are pretty limited.
So there you have it, another one of the joys of being an IBS sufferer.
Friday, 6 August 2010
What I ate today - 6th August 2010
OK. I'm going to be honest with you. Today wasn't a great day.
Last night I had really bad IBS. Despite feeling really tired my stomach was burning and my intestines were doing the conga. In the end I didn't drop off until well after 1pm which meant I was a very sleepy head in the morning.
I did manage to stoke up the energy to make myself a nice packed lunch but I couldn't manage breakfast before I left the house.
For lunch I used half a packet of mixed salad on top of which I placed some roughly chopped chunks of Somerset Brie and chopped up sweet red pepper.
For a dressing I quickly made a honey and mustard dressing. To make this I combined the following ingredients.
Last night I had really bad IBS. Despite feeling really tired my stomach was burning and my intestines were doing the conga. In the end I didn't drop off until well after 1pm which meant I was a very sleepy head in the morning.
I did manage to stoke up the energy to make myself a nice packed lunch but I couldn't manage breakfast before I left the house.
For lunch I used half a packet of mixed salad on top of which I placed some roughly chopped chunks of Somerset Brie and chopped up sweet red pepper.
 |
| Mmmm cheese |
For a dressing I quickly made a honey and mustard dressing. To make this I combined the following ingredients.
- 1 tsp runny honey
- 1 tablespoon oil
- 1 tsp rice wine vinegar
- 1 heaped tablespoon of wholegrain mustard
- 4 tablespoons of warm water
I found that adding the warm water helps to mix the honey and the oil together and helps spread the dressing more evenly.
 |
| Extreme Honey and Mustard Dressing close-up |
I put all of this into my regular lunch box in layers with the salad leaves first, then the peppers, then the cheese, drizzling a trickle of salad dressing on every layer as I went.
 |
| I love a good drizzle |
It all looks pretty good in this photo below but it was somewhat flattened by the time I got it to work. The poor salad leaves collapsed under the sogginess of the dressing and the massive portion of cheese!
 |
| Lunch is ready to go |
I'm not really sure how this ranks on the health scale. I suppose at least it had green leaves in it. I suspect there was way too much fat and sugar because it was a pretty big portion of cheese. I've recently been told I may have a calcium deficiency which may be why I'm craving so much soft cheese at the moment.
Cost wise however it was good, just £1 for the salad, 60p for the pepper and £1.20 for the cheese. The amount of ingredients used to make the dressing probably only cost about 10p. So that's a total cost of £2.90 over all so a total of £1.45 per portion.
It was very filling and I didn't feel hungry till about 3pm. I really enjoyed the tastes. It was nice to have the crisp peppers and leaves with the sweet tang of the dressing and I liked the slightly gritty texture of the mustard grains against the cheese. I'll definitely be making this again.
Unfortunately the rest of my day didn't go so well food wise. As I mentioned earlier I couldn't face breakfast when I was in the house so I grabbed something on my way into work.
I am a bad 'grabber'. Feeling tired I went for the quick sugary burst that only a chocolate muffin from Greggs the Bakers and a bottle of Lucozade can provide.
 |
| So wrong but so right |
One day I plan to have an array of healthy snacks on hand for these situations. However I have to say that bad for you though it may be Lucozade has got me through some really tough, post rubbish nights sleep IBS days and it had really helped me to perk up by mid morning.
Unfortunately as I am not efficient or organised at the moment I had no idea of what to make for tea so I ended up buying a pizza, some garlic ciabatta bread and worst of all chocolate eclairs for desert. I felt that as it was a Friday I deserved a treat.
Overall I reckon I have consumed about 90million calories today and not nearly enough nutrients. It will be interesting to see however if the effect of having consumed all this sugar and flour will make a difference to my IBS tomorrow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)