MY MEMORY RESTORED!

AFRICAN


                           INDIAN





Okay, the title of this is a little misleading, it wasn’t as much restored, since I’d picture that as a hard drive on a computer that crashed and needed to be restored. In the case of my memory, it was more like my memory went on vacation later gradually returned.

I’d say it was like vacationing in Miami and making your way back with stops at every beach on the Atlantic coast until I had to make a left at Atlantic City. That metaphor – or analogy – is not quite how it was. That would be an enjoyable return; quite possibly, one I’d want to prolong as long as possible.

Not in my vacation into memory loss. That would be more like vacationing in a swamp filled with creatures, all of which I’m afraid. I’d be making my way from swamp to swampy swamp, anxious to finally get home.

All was not lost, or on the path to totally lost, as I feared. It went kind of like this.

I went to my neurologist for my regular visit and told him I’d been struggling with memory issues. To confirm this, I showed him the results to a test from a prestigious Internet site, where I had scored poorly.

My doctor, I’ll call Dr S, looked over the results, and looked like he was really interested. After he read it, he reached into a file and pulled out a piece of paper and turned to me with a handsome smile. Yes, I noticed the latter. I don’t know if Ken noticed, but he was right there.

Dr. S told me he’d feel better if I were to take a clinical test he preferred to use. I immediately felt my stress level rise by several degrees.

At first, I was surprised by the ease of the test. I got the first question correct, my name. Joking. Actually, my first challenge was to copy a drawing of a box. Now I’m not an artist, and it did take me a while; but after making a few corrections, I drew what looked close to the original. Well, fairly close.

Next, I did a kind of follow the dots, with sequentially, alternating letters and numbers. I’m not certain that is how it would be described, but as the test is over, it doesn’t matter.

Following that was identifying pictures of three African animals, though I wasn’t sure the one was actually African or Indian. I know one of those elephants has big ears the other smaller ears. Since I didn’t remember which was which, I decided not to show off and just stuck with plain elephant.

The counting forward and backward was easy since I do that every night as a futile way of lulling myself into sleep. There were a few other questions that were so easy I’ve forgotten what they were.

My brief moments of relief were followed by terror as the test grew more difficult. I had to remember a series of words. Unrelated words. Five unrelated words.  I was never very good at this. I’d even taken a memory course once and tried to remember what I learned.

Face. Velvet. Church. Daisy. Red. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got them right. As we moved on I started to relax, until he once again asked me to repeat the five words. Yikes! Would I remember?

Well, I’m not a writer for nothing. I mentally said, “Her face felt like velvet.” I omitted the unnecessary words. I stalled on the middle one, a sign I hadn’t been there in a long time. Maybe time to start going again. I finally remembered. Then followed with, “Daisy’s aren’t red.” Again, omitting the unnecessary words.

Worse, were the math questions! I nearly froze. They were all subtraction. Thank goodness, they were all less than ten so I could use my fingers. I think Dr. S might have gotten suspicious had I slipped off my shoes.

After a few more questions, I was finished with the one-page exam. It had felt more like one those standardized tests from high school. Whew! I waited patiently for Dr. S to review my answers. When he looked up at me I noticed an expression of surprise in his warm, brown eyes.

Finally, he spoke. He started by stating he’d been using the test for his entire medical career. He was even a Fellow; and, I don’t’ think that means a man. Anyone could tell that.

He concluded – not to brag (my words, not his) – in all those years I was the FIRST person to ever get 30 out of 30 questions correct. I’d passed!

My memory passed the test.

Even his reminding me that the results could change in twenty years didn’t deter my excitement. For now, I had nothing to worry about.

I am not losing my memory. He thinks my problem is lack of sleep. He ordered a sleep study because I am morbidly obese. I hate those words!!!! Well, if I can pass the memory test, I can change that from morbidly obese to just plain obese. I might even be able to make it to a tiny bit over weight. Could I ever make it to slim? I wonder.

Okay, the thought in the last four paragraphs remained in my mind on the drive home. I texted my son to brag. I called my mother to brag. She thought it was some kind of IQ test and that her daughter is a genius. I did not correct her.

It wasn’t until we were safely home my now level of calm changed screaming off the charts fear. I’m claustrophobic! A sleep study at some point requires wearing a face mask that supplies positive pressure air.

No! No! No! Memories of a panic attack when I got stuck inside my turtleneck shirt returned. My screams when I put a hooded sweatshirt backward flashed through my mind. Memories of nearly jumping off the table prior to surgery, when the technician went to place a mask over my face. Thank goodness the drugs knocked me out before I started screaming because I realized I was strapped down.

Oh, and the humiliation of tears, panic, shortness of breath and chest pains came rushing back as I remembered the time I tried wearing an SCBA, the air pack firefighters wear. That’s another story.

There is no way I’ll know how I’ll handle this stress test. I’d managed to avoid it for years saying I couldn’t afford it. We still can’t. Will that excuse work? Or, will I be humiliated again? I’m sure I’ll be back to tell you after the study is complete; or, I get out of it.

Until then, I will just focus on my high scores in yesterday’s test.

Fibromyalgia – It’s Only Arthritis

I remember when I first heard about people having Fibromyalgia and hearing others who say it was “Only Arthritis.” Okay, to be honest, some people even said it was “Only in their head.” Yes, sadly, I do remember those statements.

Since then there has been more information available about the condition, though not enough to findOnly about it. Fibromyalgia is real, and it is a sneaky condition, not classed as a disease, rather a syndrome.

a cure. There is one thing I’ve learned for certain, there is no

 

I say it is sneaky, because there is no way for a person with Fibromyalgia to know from one day to the next just how they will feel. Planning for special events or outings is nearly impossible and too often makes one feel like the stick in the mud when they hesitate to agree to do something with family or friends. How does one RSVP with the express desire to say “Yes,” to something, when the day it is held their body screams, “No?”

Worse still is the fact that many people not only suffer from Fibromyalgia, but it often has a companion illness that is equally miserable called, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, CFS. It’s like getting hit with a double whammy.

When I first heard about Fibromyalgia I remember one woman who struggled with the pain and eventually ended up using a scooter to get around. As it progressed still more she started to withdrawal from activities. There was another woman within our social group who also had Fibromyalgia and she insisted attitude had a lot to do with how the condition progressed, and she was determined not to let it get the best of her. Unfortunately, within a few years she, too, started to withdraw from the group.

Today I have three special people in my life who suffer from Fibromyalgia some with CFS.  I spoke

with them recently to learn more about how the condition has impacted their lives, but also how far treatment may have come since the time the two women mentioned in the previous paragraph first started with their symptoms.

For their privacy, I am only using their initials. KW has probably had Fibromyalgia the longest, having been diagnosed in 2005, though it is not unusual for a person to struggle with the symptoms for many years before actually being diagnosed. Still having it the longest, it seems from our interview, she has run the gamut of doctors looking for anything that would help.

“I’ve been to a Neurologist and a doctor for chronic pain,” KW explained. “I was instantly put on anti-depressants.”

                As far as other meds, KW has found that often the side effects of the drugs are worse than the Fibromyalgia.

                “I’ve also seen a Rheumatologist and a Gastroenologist,” KW continued. “I just wanted to know it wasn’t all in my mind, that I wasn’t going crazy.”

                MG was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in 2008 and she agrees with KW about the side

effects of the medications used for the treatment of the condition. “There’s weight gain, dizziness and more fatigue,” she explained. “They didn’t work.”

                The third person I interviewed has had the least time to become adjusted to the life-changes forced on her. GO was only diagnosed this year though she suffered longer before finally getting the official diagnosis. The adjustments to her have also been monumental.

                “I can’t do the things I once did,” GO confessed. “I can’t work in the flower garden because my knees hurt. I can’t wash windows because my arms hurt. I can’t go for long walks anymore. I have to go shorter distances more often when I can.”

                GO has also learned that when she does too much one day, she will pay for it the next.  She has known disappointment when planning a special family events, only to awaken the day of the events to find she can’t join in. She’s missed out on special time with her grandchildren, and that has hurt her the most.

                One of the things all three of these women have learned is that they must use their time wisely.  “I have to prioritize things. Do what I can, and accept what I can’t get done,” says MG.

                “I’ve learned to rest when I needs too,” said KW. “My family knows and understands how important that can be.”

                There are a lot of fads and hype out there about Fibromyalgia. MG warns people not to believe in the promises of quick cures.  “There isn’t a pill, diet, cure or ‘quick fix’. You have to find what works for you.”

               

                For more information and honest answers it is recommended going to the National Fibromyalgia website at: www.fmaware.org.

The Eary Bird Gets the Worm

Read on and you'll get the title.

Good Morning! I think. What I’m trying to say is it is early. Very early for me.  I just couldn’t sleep. I was in bed, eyes closed, but my mind was running in circles.

Why? You might wonder. I had too many thoughts that I needed to get in order. First was a plot for a story. Another story idea to jot down for future reference. However, it was the other thing that forced me to take a long hard look at my life. More accurately, my health.

This entire episode may have started last evening when I found a health site on the web that seemed to be created just for me. I know I’ve thought that before, but this described me perfectly. Well, my health issues, that is.

Do I dare list them all? Oh well, I was accused of TMI before, so here I go. I have bouts of IBS, and now I may understand what has made my bowel so angry. Okay, that was a joke. You can laugh.

As well as IBS, I have been extremely tired lately, I also have bouts of dizziness, and the doctor recently told me I’m anemic. Apparently, as I learned last night, these conditions may all be linked. Even the dreaded hemorrhoids I have. Yikes they are a pain in the butt!

Seriously, none of this is a joking matter. However, joking is the only way I can handle the embarrassment and shame caused by these conditions. If I allowed these things take over my mind, I’d be depressed all the time. By the way, I also learned depression and anxiety are also linked to these conditions.

So what to do?

Of course, the video and article I was reading had a point – a selling point. They were selling these state-of-the-art probiotics. They didn’t exactly call them state-of-the-art, but you get my point. These pills were a combination of all the most needed probiotics to stay healthy.

Funny thing, though. A friend recently told me about Kefir, another potent probiotic you usually drink. Instead of running out to buy the ingredients to make my own Kefir, since he told me it was easy to make – I ran out and purchased a simple over-the-counter probiotic. I took it for several weeks.

I honestly didn’t think they were doing anything. Until I ran out of them. At that point I realized my IBS symptoms had lessened while I was taking them and came back with a vengeance when I ran out. 

Perhaps, there was something to this whole thing. I then purchased one of those flavored Kefir products you find at the grocery store and started drinking it in small amounts. That was only the other day so I’m not certain what it may be doing inside me.

To be fully honest, my IBS was so bad last week I resorted to taking medication for it. You know that minty, chalky liquid stuff. That, of course, creates new problems of the opposite sort. I realized taking the medicine was just masking my symptoms and I shouldn’t be taking it over long periods of time. 

So, it was important I figure out what I was going to do next.

I dreaded the thought of going to the doctor. Seems every time I do that I get put on another medication. I’m on 13 prescriptions already! Please, there must be an end to it. I know there is – but, I’m talking about a different ending. One where I continue breathing. And I’d rather not suffer through life until I stop.

Back to the search results from last evening. There was a great deal of information. It was almost as bad as a history lesson. Yet, many of the things being said rang a bell. It told of the changes in our “healthy diets” through the years.

The final result – before the sales pitch – was what we should already know: we eat too much sugar, refined flours and over-processed foods.  Simply stated, the closer to the earth and its natural form the better. It warned about soft drinks and too much coffee. I can live without the first; but my coffee! 

I’m not too sure about that.

Not to worry, they say, once all this healthiness kicks in, one desires less coffee. That is something I have to see to believe. I know I’m not alone. Have any of you counted the number of coffee posts you find on social media? Probably more than wise cracks about the government and pet photos combined.

So, as I sit here drinking my . . . ah, my coffee, I am going to confess that I fell for the sales pitch. Through sound reasoning I decided to give the risk-free month a try. Sound reasoning sounds so much better than impulse buying, don’t you think?

So now you laugh! I hope you at least smiled at some of my jokes.

More seriously, I need what they are offering. I realize no pill of any kind, whether it be from the doctor or from some company that heralds claims of getting rid of most the worm-like bacteria inside, is going to be the cure all for my ails. I know I will have to make my best effort at eating the right foods. By the way, they say we need a little of those worm-like things, just not as many as we have.

I will be shopping mostly from the outer isles of the grocery store as the experts (Doctor Oz and associates) suggest. I will eat fresh when possible, where tolerated. I will try to do away with processed foods, sugar, artificial stuff and refined flours. But I will not stop drinking my coffee! A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. My motto, I will give up my coffee when they pry my cup from my cold dead fingers. (That may be someone else’s motto too.)

Once again, being honest, I have already cut back on coffee do to all the digestive issues I’ve been having, so I’ve got a head start.

This will be a challenge. My body is so used to many of these things, it craves them. In fact, lately when I eat healthy my body actually rebels. That is when it feels like Rocky and Mr. T are duking it out inside me, and all the hot air from their trash talk is. . . Well, you get the picture.

I’ll be back in a few weeks to fill you in on the results of this challenge I’ve set up for myself. I hope it will be good news. If not, I’ll admit that too.

Until then, I’ll be back with other articles. For now . . . maybe I should go back to bed. I’m not used to writing at 4:30 in the morning. It’s the freaking middle of the night, not morning! Now that I’ve gotten this off my chest, maybe I can sleep.