About Me
>During the summer of 2004, I started having panic attacks. At first, I had no idea what they were, but they scared the hell out of me. I think that was the first sign that hey, maybe I should slow it down a bit.
I was going to University full time (5 classes) and working 25-30 hours a week. I guess it was my mind's way of saying cool down. But, I didn’t listen. Instead, I kept trucking along. Some days were better than others, but I just shrugged the bad days off and hoped that the next would be better.
In April of 2005, I discovered that my ITP had returned. ITP stands for idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura, which basically means low platelets in the blood (they are what make blood clot). I was originally diagnosed with this when I was 14, but things seemed to be getting under control and it had looked like I might have grown out of it according to the doctors. At the time, we didn’t have a Hematologist (blood doctor) in Lethbridge, so I was sent to an Oncologist (cancer doctor) don’t ask me why, who was hell-bent on taking out my spleen. I thank God I didn’t go through with that. Well, needless to say, this guy did nothing for me.
Fast forward to November of 2005… I was 5 weeks away from getting my Management degree from the University of Lethbridge, getting ready to move to a new town and transferring jobs and was really excited about it. Well, all the fun was slowly disappearing as I started to get sicker and sicker. I ended up dropping out of school and by the time I got out to my new job, I worked one day before I became too sick to work.
The next few weeks are kind of a blur in my head. I basically went without food and somehow survived very small amounts of water for a good 4-5 weeks. I was achy all over, some days I couldn’t even get out of bed because my legs hurt so badly. I went to doctor after doctor. I was in the emergency room several times. I had to try to convince these people that I couldn’t go on living this way, but no one seemed to be able to find anything wrong with me. My blessing was sent in the form of the new Hematologist in Lethbridge. I went to see him on December 21. That was the day that I was diagnosed with Lupus. You would think that this would be devastating news; however, I was just thankful that I knew what was going on finally. I still attribute my life to my Hematologist. He is, by far, my most favorite person in the world. He was the only one who found what was wrong with me and made the first steps to making me get better. He prescribed a drug called Plaquenil. It’s an anti-malaria drug, but its also used to treat Lupus. He also put me back on Prednisone (a common steroid used to treat many different conditions). I've been on this drug off and on since I was 14, and have had a love/hate relationship with it from day one. Love it for its power to fix what ails you, hate it for its vicious side effects.
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Moving on… On January 4, 2006, I went to my family doctor for a follow up. This day was apparently the breaking point. I went to stand up to leave his office, and fell right back down again. My body had just had enough. I wasn’t going anywhere on my own. So, in come the paramedics in all this commotion to whisk me away. I was the talk of the office for awhile after that! I was admitted to the hospital that day. I was so dehydrated by now that they just flooded me with IV fluids as much as they could as fast as they could. I tell you, that burns your veins like mad. On January 6th, I convinced myself that I was ready to go home, and asked my family doctor to discharge me. Well, he firmly said no. After getting into a huge fight with him (something that I don’t do), I decided to go over his head to the only person that I had any trust in at the time, my Hematologist. He let me go home, mainly due to the fact that I was flipping out big time. That proved to be one of the biggest mistakes that I’ve made, but it was the only way that I was going to accept that I really needed help. On January 7th, I went back to the hospital. I couldn’t even walk up the steps to my house, I was that weak. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t ready to be at home.
I tacked two more doctors onto my list when I went back. A Nephrologist was called in because the Lupus was affecting my kidneys and my dehydration was not helping them. A Rheumatologist also came in. He's the one who specializes in conditions such as Rheumatoid Arthritis and Lupus. On my 22nd birthday, I had a kidney biopsy done. I am telling you that it was the most painful thing that I have ever gone though. They take a gun-like object and stab in though your side and take a piece of your kidney out. They did this 4 times. They don't put you to sleep or anything. All they do is numb the area a bit. What they were looking for, till this day, I still don’t know. All I know is that Morphine didn’t touch the pain, and it was the first time that I ever had Morphine!
Following this, I had several other procedures done, mainly chest x-rays, that showed that I had fluid in my lungs. Oh goody, something else to add to the list! My Nephrologist decided that the best way to go was to start Chemotherapy to try to reverse the damage done to my kidneys. In preparation, I was given very high doses of IV steroids. I was then given the Chemotherapy (called Cyclophosphamide). After that, my hemoglobin fell dangerously low, so I was given a blood transfusion. All of this happened in the course of three days. On February 1st, after almost a month, I finally got to go home.
Three weeks later, I went back for my second Cyclo treatment. It went pretty well, as did the first one. I was warned that it could get really sick from it, but it never really happened the first, second, or even the third time. I did, however, start to lose my hair. I’m lucky that I started out with really thick hair, because I’ve lost a lot. I ended up cutting it all of in July, something that was really hard for me to do. My fourth treatment in April didn’t go as well. I ended up in the hospital again for another 4 days because I couldn’t keep any of my meds down, so I had to get them through the IV.
I had my last of 10 treatments in June/07. I’m still tired, I still get sick very easy, and I’m plagued my migraines, something that I’ve never had before. My life consists of doctors’ appointments, blood tests, treatments, and the occasional trip to the emergency room when things flare up. I rarely go out anymore, except to go to work, which I have had more sick days than work days I think. I'm always too tired or too sick. My immune system is pretty much shot, so I'm constantly on antibiotics to ward off infections. I'm told that I will get better, but some of these medications and treatments take up to a year to take effect. In the meantime, I sit here and try to piece my life back together. I’m looking forward to the day that I can go back and finish school to get my management degree.
There is no cure for Lupus. I’ve accepted the fact that I will have to live with it for the rest of my life. The only thing that I can change is the fact that I am not going to let it control my life the way that it has the last year. Life is too short for that. If I could go back and change anything, I wouldn't. This all made me stronger, and put my priorities back in order. I've learned so much this year. I wouldn't change a thing...
