the above image is from Chronic Illness Cat and the below article is taken from EDS Info, a wonderfully informative blog for any chronic pain sufferer, which you should all go check out and bookmark and return to often.
UNTREATED CHRONIC PAIN IS ACUTE PAIN
CONSEQUENCES OF UNTREATED AND INADEQUATELY-TREATED PAIN
PAIN SUFFERERS ARE MEDICALLY DISCRIMINATED AGAINST
CHRONIC PAIN IS A LEGITIMATE MEDICAL DISEASE
Maybe someone else could use it too?
Chronic illness warriors are great at pushing through, but as we all know, that is not always the best or healthiest option, although sometimes it seems like the only option. Pushing through can lead to a flare up that sets us back for days, weeks, or even months. Rest is a real job with chronic illness. No matter how we may be feeling, even if it’s better than usual, every single day consists of maintenance and making difficult choices that can help or harm us in the quest for balance. Most of the choices you have to make are things the people around you cannot understand. That makes it even more difficult to prioritize our own well-being in stressful situations.
To all those who wrestle with the guilt surrounding being chronically ill or in constant pain, I am right there with you.
Love you guys!
Even in between flare ups I can only do one thing. One thing before I have to lay down. Sometime just one thing the entire day. I cannot shower AND leave the house on the same day. I cannot do light work in the vegetable garden AND make dinner in the same day.
In fact, any one thing I do choose to focus on could be the last all week, if I hurt myself!
So how do you pick which task gets your attention?
Before chronic illness I would make a list, and I did all the hardest chores as fast as I could. No matter how awful I felt. Powering through and forcing myself to do everything that everyone around me “needed” was my way of life. I swore by that.
As I developed more and more symptoms, inevitably that behavior translated into trying to ignore my pain and push on. I was in much more pain, cognitive issues were becoming a daily and noticeable problem, I was having much more severe flare ups, I was always anxious and I was even having suicidal thoughts for the first time since high school.
Now, three years in, I finally understand that overdoing it is a ticket to my own personal hell, and I don’t have to buy that ticket.
Only I can know what overdoing it means, and I am the only one who can give myself permission to take a break, change tasks, or stop altogether. Of course, real life gets overwhelming and self care can fall to the wayside during a crisis, but the important part is that this is a habit that is sticking. And I am learning gratitude as a result. In between flare ups, I am capable of doing one thing. That is something to be be grateful for.
I am learning that it doesn’t have to be frustrating picking where my energy goes. It can be freeing, too. I am acknowledging my limits and despite the chaos that causes and the emotions it brings up, I have faith that my life will ultimately be better as a result. I can focus on the good that is left, rather than what I miss. It’s a process, I still have days of utter and complete depression in the midst of a long flare up, and I don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with that. Thanks to chronic illness my life will be full of ups and downs that are much more dramatic than before I got sick.
Post-chronic-illness, I am sorting through the wreckage for the potential in me, the things that I value about myself even when my body is not as strong as it was. Being able to do one thing, even if it is sleep and recover all day, is a gift that I am finally willing to accept.
About three months ago, I stumbled across a really interesting essay written by Rob Lamberts, MD on his blog at Musings of a Distractible Mind. The essay discusses in-depth and honestly how chronically ill patients remind doctors of their own humanity, fallibility and failure. This is something I have understood for a while but not been able to put into words.
Now that I have finally found a primary care provider who respects me and who I respect in return, I am a lot more hopeful about my future. All as a result of my ability to put trust in her. I do not, however, expect her to fix me or even necessarily tell me what is wrong with me. I do believe she is doing her best to figure it out, and she seems to believe my pain. Ahhhhh, miracle of miracles, I found a healthcare professional who actually cares! Novel, exciting, and entirely needed. 🙂
It seems the missing part of my previous relationships with doctors (not all of them, some of them are just plain jerks): I needed to show them the compassion I wanted to receive in return. This is just an excerpt from the wonderful words of Rob Lambert in A Letter To Patients With Chronic Disease:
…We are normal, fallible people who happen to doctor for a job. We are not special. In fact, many of us are very insecure, wanting to feel the affirmation of people who get better, hearing the praise of those we help. We want to cure disease, to save lives, to be the helping hand, the right person in the right place at the right time.
But chronic unsolvable disease stands square in our way. You don’t get better, and it makes many of us frustrated, and it makes some of us mad at you. We don’t want to face things we can’t fix because it shows our limits. We want the miraculous, and you deny us that chance.
And since this is the perspective you have when you see doctors, your view of them is quite different. You see us getting frustrated. You see us when we feel like giving up. When we take care of you, we have to leave behind the illusion of control, of power over disease. We get angry, feel insecure, and want to move on to a patient who we can fix, save, or impress. You are the rock that proves how easily the ship can be sunk. So your view of doctors is quite different.
Then there is the fact that you also possess something that is usually our domain: knowledge. You know more about your disease than many of us do – most of us do. Your MS, rheumatoid arthritis, end-stage kidney disease, Cushing’s disease, bipolar disorder, chronic pain disorder, brittle diabetes, or disabling psychiatric disorder – your defining pain – is something most of us don’t regularly encounter. It’s something most of us try to avoid. So you possess deep understanding of something that many doctors don’t possess. Even doctors who specialize in your disorder don’t share the kind of knowledge you can only get through living with a disease. It’s like a parent’s knowledge of their child versus that of a pediatrician. They may have breadth of knowledge, but you have depth of knowledge that no doctor can possess.
-Rob Lamberts, MD
Written July 14th, 2010
(Read the essay in it’s entirety at http://more-distractible.org/musings/2010/07/14/a-letter-to-patients-with-chronic-disease.)
So there you have it; part of the reason why you scare your doctor/nurse practitioner, the reason why you make them uneasy, agitated, and defensive. The author of this letter isn’t blaming his patients for making him feel like a failure, but he does go on to give us some tips for creatively gaining some ground with our doctors and reducing the tension in the exam room so everyone can behave like adults and no harsh “I don’t know what to do, your situation is just too complicated” gets thrown out there. Phrases like that effectively shut down communication and trust between you and your doctor. It’s as if they just slammed a door in your face. Of course, when we collapse into hysteria and start screaming for someone to fix us (um…. yeah, that might have happened, maybe…), that sort of thing can also shut down communication pretty quickly, just for example.
The step by step tips the author gives for cultivating a good relationship with healthcare team members should help to get things off on the right foot with a new doctor, or even mend a relationship with one of your current doctors. The latest poll of MD’s from 2013 Pain Report found that 1/4 of primary care doctors believe that all their fibromyalgia patients are exaggerating or even faking illness altogether (yikes!), so there is always that chance that you could be stuck with one of those jerks. In which case, don’t mend anything, just BAIL. Get out!!! Find someone else. Search the chronic illness support groups in your area for suggestions of primary care options who take your health insurance. (Hint, those support group websites often have lists of local lawyers for helping you file for disability and even local charities that can help with food, electrical, and mortgage/rent costs.) Then, once you’ve found a new doctor, use the author’s suggestions to build a rapport with him or her..
I know how frustrating the search can be, but I can promise you there is a huge, staggering, massive difference between a doctor who is a bad fit and the right doctor. Even with the right doctor, part of being chronically ill is understanding that no one understands us. We are always, to some extent, alone in our illness. Each of our pain is unique, it is not like anyone else’s pain. No two match up exactly. Therefore, no doctor will have the same take on it as the next. This is one reason why the author advises that chronic pain patients keep their eggs in just a few baskets; only seeing the same few doctors who are all in connection with each other and can actively manage your illness instead of bouncing from specialist to specialist to specialist.
Part of the shift towards receiving better care requires that we as patients always remember that the person we’re dealing with, underneath the title that shows us they attended a lot of school, is a human being who is capable of making mistakes and feeling guilty, defensive, or embarrassed by those mistakes. It is not our job to puff up our doctor’s ego by saying they did a good job treating us if they did not, However, it is also not our job to tear them apart when they are trying to do their best, even when we are just desperate for them to pay attention to our agony. Trust me, I get that, I have been there for more than a year straight not that long ago; just a total mess in every doctor office I went to, and every visit was a bad one that year. I left in furious tears far more often than I left composed.
Instead of going in dreading and fully expecting a fight, now I strive to help my doctors, nurses, and specialists more easily understand me by following some basic etiquette and planning for my time with providers more carefully. Thanks to the author of this article I am lucky to have found a great doctor-patient relationship with my new primary care who is a joy to see. She holds my hand when she has bad news, she is warm, compassionate, smart, and determined. I finally have an ally in my primary care! Finding such a gem of a nurse practitioner does not end my struggles with chronic illness, but it is a huge relief. Now when I encounter a doctor I cannot see eye to eye with, despite practicing compassion towards them, I am much more confident in identifying who will work with me and who is too jaded or disrespectful to be a good fit. I’m still learning how to implement all the advice the author laid forth so clearly, but after years of bad doctors and me being a bad patient in response, I think the cycle is broken.
A Letter to Patients with Chronic Disease is one of those essays I would recommend to all patients with chronic conditions, and it is one I wish I had read earlier in the onset of my illness. It found me at the right time, though, and I am so grateful.
In case you need to copy and paste the address of the original letter, here’s the url: http://more-distractible.org/musings/2010/07/14/a-letter-to-patients-with-chronic-disease
my dear friend, A Body of Hope, wrote a companion piece explaining with a touch of humor just how frustrating it is to depend on doctors, and a clip from Twin Peaks (eep!) making it all clear as day.
Here is the her post: Warm Milk: Physician Frustration. Head on over and check out all of her insightful and inspiring posts. Her sense of humor is flawless, and I am always and forever in debt to her for helping me get started here.
What I am Grateful for Today:
Chronic illness is a battle, a burden every day, but it gives us a unique perspective on life. I feel like most spoonies I meet, whether online or in person, have the important things figured out (but we rarely feel like we do!). Those with chronic pain and illnesses have had to pare down their lives to the bare necessities for survival. We are skilled at finding the silver lining in almost every kind of adverse situation. We do not fret the small stuff; we are tough. These are just a few of the truths that I am incredibly grateful for.
Most of all, I’m grateful for all of the wonderful #spoonie support that happens every second, both online and in our communities. Where would we be without each other?
Click the badge below to head over the site and get started expressing gratitude through photos!
There is something trance-like about scrolling through the #CapturingGratitude wall, and I hope more people join the revolution immediately! The idea is to post pictures of anything you are grateful for, easy as that. Setting up an account takes two minutes, and then you’re ready to upload pictures of everything that lights up your life. It’s like public meditation, and it helps me focus on all the little moments in life which I need to consciously recognize and appreciate.