big fat health vent

April 24, 2008

I haven’t been writing here much since I was diagnosed with subacute thyroiditis because I didn’t want to share too much detail about my health publicly. I also thought that eventually I would get better and would be able to resume doing all the things I love doing, including writing poetry and blogging.

It’s been six months, going on seven, and I can’t stand it anymore. This illness has ruined my life. I don’t even know where to begin talking about it — so much has happened and there’s been so much destruction to my health that I don’t know where to start.

The hyperthyroid phase of the illness was pure hell, leading to a number of symptoms, including anxiety that is just now beginning to abate, as well as insomnia that still has not resolved. I now need medicine to help me sleep most nights, and I still wake up over and over again throughout the night. Getting a full night’s sleep is a great deal of work because I wake up so many times and have to work to fall asleep again.

Because of the anxiety and sleep issues, my doctor prescribed some medicine that had terrible side effects. I went on the medicine at the tail end of the hyperthyroid phase, of course not knowing at the time when the hyperthyroid phase would end, and it’s taken me weeks to taper off this medicine. Now, I am now left with chronic fatigue and hyperacusis (extremely sensitive hearing) that is so bad I can’t be around ordinary noises without my ears pulsing, throbbing and sending a chill down my spine. I can’t even talk on the phone without being in pain, which means I am cut off from friends and family. Even the sound of my own voice is painful. I started a new job, which I love, but being in the office is excruciating because of all the sounds I’m exposed to.

The hyperacusis alone is debilitating, but on top of it I have had paresthesia for the past six days. Basically, my entire body continuously has a painful pins-and-needles feeling, and my limbs have started going numb off and on. Both my hands and my entire left leg are numb right now. My doctors are passing the buck on what might be causing this problem. One thinks it is a withdrawal effect from not taking the medicine anymore. Another thinks it’s related to my hypothyroidism. Phrases like multiples sclerosis and autoimmune disease have been thrown out there as possibilities.

I am so debilitated by the paresthesia, along with everything else, that I can’t even go to work. I reluctantly had to take a leave of absence. I just started full thyroid replacement therapy, and if these symptoms don’t clear up in a few days, then it’s unlikely the thyroid has anything to do with what’s going on. If that’s the case, I will need to have an MRI and other testing done by a neurologist.

And on top of everything else, it appears my remarkable kidney recovery was nothing more than a laboratory error. I have had two follow-up creatinine clearance tests since then, and they both indicate that I still have stage two kidney disease. My nephrologist can’t explain the really good result I had back in October, except to say that labs do make mistakes, and that result is not consistent with all my other results.

I’ve been trying to remain positive and believe things will turn around. But I am starting to lose my faith. I mean, come on. Kidney disease, thyroiditis, hyperacusis, paresthesia — all within the past year? How much more can I take? I’m starting to believe there is something larger going on, some overarching health problem that has led to all these issues, and that thought scares me. It simply doesn’t make sense otherwise for all of this to be happening to me.

I spent the day today looking at photos Jon and I have taken on various trips. That’s what really pushed me over the edge.

First, I don’t even recognize the person in those photos. There is a healthy, happy person looking at me who I don’t even know anymore. I don’t even look like her. My body and face are showing the wear and tear of the past year. I feel so physically different and detached from her it’s like I am looking at a stranger.

Second, I can’t imagine being able to go anywhere or do anything without being in pain. I’ve been looking at people for months — people doing normal things like walking or running errands — and I feel so jealous of them. They have no idea how good they have it, just being able to be in their bodies without suffering. When I saw those photos we’d taken, I remembered being someone who was like everyone else, able to enjoy myself and be in the moment. I suspect I won’t ever be able to experience my body in the same way again, that I will be relegated to a life that is uncomfortable at best, unbearable at worst. I am worried that I will have to continue living life on the sidelines and watching everyone else go about feeling joy and happiness, while both will be closed off to me.

Fuck. I don’t know. I hate dumping all this out there, but I need to talk about it. I know this isn’t written very well, but I don’t care. I’m not up for careful revision or even for proofreading the entry.

Posted by Dana | Filed Under blog, my body | 20 Comments 

juked

April 15, 2008

My poem is up at Juked. Here’s the link to the whole issue, and the link to my poem.

Posted by Dana | Filed Under blog, my poetry | 4 Comments 

new at qarrtsiluni

April 6, 2008

I have a poem up at Qarrtsiluni. Please check it out if you have a moment. I’d like to thank the editors, Brent Goodman and Ken Lamberton, for all their work on the issue. I know how much work they are doing, having co-edited an issue myself.

Posted by Dana | Filed Under blog, my poetry | 4 Comments 


This is my blog wherein I, Dana Guthrie Martin, write things and stuff. Most of the time, writing and I hobble along in a sort of three-legged race where there is no finish line. (more...)

Get as close as possible to who and what you are, and you will become original. — Kevin Clark