Health Update, Oct 2012

Here I am, (not so) eagerly knocking on the door to 40.

In 5 days I will be 40.

A couple years ago, I remember thinking to this time in my life, and thinking, "I really would like to be at my goal weight for 40."

Being a little slow on the uptake, it took me until a couple weeks ago to make any progress toward that goal.

Wait, that's not entirely true.  This time last year, I had lost 22 pounds, significantly changed my diet, and had about 20 pounds to go.  Then, I fell off the gluten-free wagon, knee-deep into yummy fatty goodness. I had a hell of a time getting back on track.

And here I am.  I am 189 pounds of lovable Lyme.  Luscious Lyme.  In fact, if I could only grow a foot taller, I would be at my idea weight.

Since my plans to get taller have stalled, I figure something had to give. So, I went back on my detox diet.

I'm almost three weeks in, and I have lost 9 pounds. Phew!  It's possible!

And, I'm 3 weeks off my anti-depressants, and no one got stabbed.  Not a single person.  This is nothing short of a miracle, people. If you know me in Real Life, you know what an amazing feat this truly is.

And, I haven't been Psychotic-Swearing-Bitch each morning, for like, three days running.  This has got to have set some records.

Here's the rest of my health crap---

I'm off antibiotics, until my vision returns to normal.  We are 14 days in, folks, and I still get dizzy every time I change my view.  So, driving, and scanning mirrors for traffic and shit? Not fun.  I highly recommend NOT hanging out in crosswalks in the greater Sacramento area for a spell.

As soon as my eyes get better, I can go back on the drugs, but I will have to work harder on detoxing.  This means that, I actually have to TRY to detox.  Beyond drinking water a lot.

So, to achieve this, I am drinking lemon water, tangerine-mint water, taking Alka Seltzer Gold, and I am contemplating getting in a hot tub.  Lyme HATES heat.  So, hot tubs and infrared saunas should be my best friends. But, the heat makes my body ache.  ACHE like a giant body headache.  So, I avoid them.  And, being peri-menopausal, I'm pretty toasty already, so my showers tend to be cold-ish. Unfortunately, it's time to ramp things up so that I can increase my core temp, killing these little curly motherfuckers faster.  :::sigh:::

I have been somewhat fortunate, not herxing much.  But, I am avoiding things likely to make me herx.  I KNOW this is not right, that I have to do more detoxing, more frequently. That the more I kill the little bastards that have been wreaking havoc in my body the more I need to flush them out of me, which is where detoxing comes in.  But also where herxing comes in.  It's like the elaborate foot tattoo of the detox world-the better things are, the more shit hurts, the better you will be in the long-term.  Makes no damned sense, but whatever.

I even worked this week!  And not the usual, 'stop by, see everyone, make sure no one's completely pissed off at me or needs something desperate from me, so I can leave before I get sleepy' kind of work.  I went in right after dropping Princess off, and stayed until 6ish, covering the phones, doing my usual stuff, dealing with paperwork and bills, and did all the cooking for 100 kids for 2 whole days.  And the dishes, because our dishwasher is on the fritz.  Then, I picked up Princess, because Sky King was off with Monkey Boy on an extended field trip, and so I was on my own. I did this for two full days, plus my usual stuff.  All on the heals of a very busy weekend and first part of the week.

Here I am on Saturday.  Things hurt.  But, I'm out of bed before noon.  This is the biggest boost in energy I have had since I can't even remember when. Now, I just have to make sure I don't overdo it so much that I go backwards.

UPDATE:  I still have eye issues.  So, Dr. Lyme is scrapping the Rifampin and Doxy (Yess!!!  Not a fan of the staying out of the sun), and trying all new stuff.  Including LDN (Low Dose Naltrexone), which is supposed to make my whole world wonderful, filled with infection-fighting bodies, and happy thoughts, and unicorns farting glitter, and less anxiety.  I'm excited for it.  He also added two new drugs (new, to me, anyways...).  One is cefuroxime, which is a standard abx.  The other is Levofloxicin, which has a website devoted to tendon problems.  So, I guess that means no marathons in my future.  Damn.  Not.

And, I get the jump back on the rollercoaster of seeing what new side effects I get to deal with.  But the point is, new drugs means potential getting better-er.  Which I'm a huge fan of.

Instead of Being Creeped Out....

Big Brother is a pain is my ass. He's slowing down my roll. Seriously.

Her I am, surfing the interwebs for "how to make an upright bean bag toss game" for my kids' carnival.  Then, smack-dab in the middle of the page, I see a bunch of shit for Maui.

You see, Sky King and I are going to Maui in November to celebrate becoming 40. And I have been spending an obscene amount of time Googling "cheap souvenirs in maui", "best road to hana trips", and "tommy bahama menu pricing".  I'm a preparer, y'all.

And now, in the middle of VERY IMPORTANT school work, I am dragged over to some link about "amazing sunset cruises for less".

GAH!

Now, I should be entirely creeped out that The Internet is OUT TO GET ME.  But I'm not.  I'm more irritated that my, "Oh look! A chicken!" brain had me on a website about beanbag toss games (it's really going to be this amazing game with orange balloons, attached in the shape of a pumpkin, where kids pop the balloons to reveal useless shit----thank you, Martha Stewart!), then all of a sudden, I'm clicking the link to the sunset cruises.

Then, I'm like, "oh shit, if we go on a sunset cruise, I might need a shawl.  I wonder if I have one that will match that new sundress?"  So, then I'm in the closet rummaging around for some random shawl, I may or may not have thrown out on the last move because I was DONE PACKING SHIT.

Then, I'm like, "hey.  Where the hell are my favorite brown sandals?"

Pretty soon, I have a week's worth of Hawaii crap spread all over the bedroom.

And the pumpkin board game? Forgotten.

This is why my kids don't have what they need, until the last minute, or right after that.   And why parents can't get their shit together.

Stupid internet.

The One Where I DON'T Stab People In The Brain With An Ice Pick

So, I'm off Cymbalta.  Off, off.  Done.  As in, I told the folks down at CVS they can keep their $6/day death pills, because I want to have a little more control over my symptoms. Even if it means all the pain relief I was getting will be gone. 

Which it is.  Pain? Back like a crazy stalker ex-boyfriend, with the same amount of passion and persistence.

And, because I couldn't get my latest primary to call me back, and guide me through the step down, I muddled through it myself, as those of you that hang on my every word will remember.

I was thrilled to not have the agonizing headaches that everyone online spoke of.

I was super stoked about getting off, and I seemed to be able to talk myself off the ledge when I was feeling like the only thing the people around me were missing was an ice pick to the eyeball.  I could be all, "Aimee, you're getting off the crazy juice, it'll be okay.  Put down the ice pick".  And that worked, mostly.

I also got kicked off my antibiotics, for the first time since January, because of eye issues.  Namely, every time I change my focus, like from a person to the TV to the wall to the computer screen, I would get a teensy bit dizzy.  (Currently, I'm at Day 15 of the dizzies, btw.  They are getting better, but not gone.  Or, I'm used to them.  Whatev.)

So, I'm detoxing, almost done.  Down 9 pounds.  Liver should be doing a happy dance (I recently got some labs that showed that my liver is pretty pissed off right now.  Not sure where to go with that, because just about everything I take taxes my liver.  Not to mention the wine.  Oh, GOD, the wine....).  But, I REALLY want to sometimes, occasionally, violently, persistently drive my car into the side of a building, especially if people that are pissing me off are hanging out in front of the building. And, I have tears building up in my eyes, pretty much constantly.  And not only during sappy commercials. 

I can't think straight (even less straight than normal), I'm not making sense even to myself.  So, Dr. Google and I have a little chat.

Seems that, coming of Cymbalta?  Pretty fucking epic.  All kinds of crazy shit happens.  It's like Big Pharma decided, "take our pills, please!  In facts, have a month on us!  But don't give them up, because we will fuck your world.  You will NEVER give us up, NEVER!"  Without the Rick Roll, I promise you.

(BTW, have you guys seen the Mad Men Rick Roll?  Fucking awesomesauce.  Truly.

Right?)

Anyway, these can be the symptoms of going off Cymbalta (they even have a fancy name for it, SSRI Discontinuation Syndrome) (I was super helpful to your eyeballs by only listing the symptoms I have, you're welcome):

•  Brain zaps-these can be like vertigo, or a dizzy feeling, and can completely throw off your thought process.  A true joy, I can assure you, especially when speaking to a group professionally.
• Dizziness
• Eye and vision problems (!!!!!)
• Agitation and anxiety
• Hostility
• Worsening of depressive symptoms
• Sudden-onset dyslexia 

And some other shit, that HAS to be related.  Gah.

Phew.  It's been a hell of a week, right?  Top it off with Sky King being gone for a field trip, and me having to work excessively for three days straight, and I'm borderline homicidal. And weepy.  Which, as I am sure you can imagine, one of my favorite qualities in myself.

My saving grace?  I recently met a fellow Lymie, I will call her D, that has had tons of success treating her Lyme with natural treatments.  And, while I was in the middle of trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, she popped up online.  Our convo was like this:

Her: What's up? Sorry, had a computer break for a few days...
Me: No worries.  I'm in the doldrums, I'm thinking it's from coming off Cymbalta, did you have this when you kicked it?
Her: Yep!  5HTP, you need it.
Me: :::consults Dr. Google for contraindications::: Awesome.  I need something, because I'm a wreck.
Her:  here's my number, check in in a few days, let me know how you're doing
Me: k. Thanks.

I hit a few more sites, looking for things that will help me feel less stabby, while NOT shriveling my liver like a 5-year-old-raisin under the couch.

This is what I found:
Bach Flower remedies.  Way back when, I worked in a few health food stores, soaking in the hippie-patchouli-granola vibe.  And everyone was totally down with the Bach Flower remedies, especially Rescue Remedy.  But, I didn't think some diluted flower juice would help me with shit.

Today, I was desperate.  And since the looney bin doesn't have a weekend drop box like the Pound, I thought it was worth a shot.

I careened on down to the local Hippie shop, and picked up some goodies: Rescue Remedy, Mustard Remedy, and 5HTP.  The girl at the counter was gabbing about Rescue Remedy and it helping her with anxiety, like, MINUTES after taking it.

So I got in the swagger wagon, and ripped that shit open like a junkie after a score. Drop, drop, drop.

And here I am, 2 hours later.  Feeling a teensy bit serene.  Certainly less homicidal. And, if things keep going this way, I might follow up with all my birthday celebrating I have planned for this upcoming week, I probably won't kill anyone this month, and I will likely attend my awesome vacation at the end of the month that I have been planning for over a year.  The trip I have wanted to cancel for a few days now.  Yep, it's been THAT seriously shitty. 

This shit? Not for the faint of heart.