Atenolol's back!

I got my Atenolol in the mail yesterday I took my first redose today. This morning I woke up weak and knowing it was going to be a bad POTS day. I was on the verge of skipping class until I realized that today was proofing day here at work (I make the events calendar for a faculty and staff newspaper) and the extra 3 hours of sleep at that point would probably have just made things worse, so to class I went. I was using the cane from the get go today. I could feel the Atenolol kick in because around 10:30 I perked up a little more and my stomach started hurting. Still hurts. And I'm STILL full from a giant late dinner I had last night.

One interesting thing about being off the Atenolol is that at times I could actually taste the adrenaline in my mouth. Yeah, it really needed to be suppressed. I feel like I have slightly more energy now, but would love a nap later on today.

Well, my Atenolol STILL hasn't come in the mail, which upsets me, but thankfully I've felt no withdrawal symptoms from going off of it. Just the POTS coming back more or less. I've been having to use the cane somewhat the past week or so. My vision blurs a little easier and I'm a lot more tired. You'd think an adrenal suppressant would make me tired, but nope, just the opposite. Too much adrenaline is tiring me out and I'm back in the routine of an afternoon nap (aka, me lying down for 6 hours). Oh, life.

Some of my stomach difficulty has gone away, but a lot is still there. I'm off the Glyset which has made little impact on my life except that I don't bloat as easily. I'm still having some heartburn, though.

I seem to have escaped whatever sickness is going around. Knock on wood, I hope I can continue to.

Fascinating Article

I'm Ill, But Who Needs to Know?

Fascinating article I'm sure most of us chronically ill types can relate to. We don't want our illnesses to hold us back, we want to work, but at the same time we don't tell our employers upfront. I personally have done this. At my old job at Pizza Hut, I worked successfully for two month (it was a summer gig) and no one was any the wiser. At my current job I disclosed it about 3 months after I started working there. It's a small office and everyone's pretty cool about it.

But at the same time, I've had organizations to which I was seeking membership ask me about my health and me being stupid, I was honest and told them. I was suspicious about that question and contacted people to ensure that this wouldn't be used in a discriminatory way, and they assured me it wasn't. But guess what? It was.

So now my current position is "you are not getting my health information out of me unless your subpoena me because it's none of your business." Even then, aren't I protected under the 5th amendment in that case? So yeah, basically, legally speaking I don't have to tell you anything.

Stomach stuff and medical sexism

I'm officially out of Atenolol. Although this sucks in that now I can hardly leave the house without a cane (and let me tell you how much fun canes can be on freezing rain coated sidewalks) and I occasionally have the heart pounds, I think I've solved the problem of my stomach pain. It was the Atenolol.

How do I know? Because I haven't taken it in two days and I haven't had stomach pain in two days. The days I took half the pill I had about half as much stomach pain.

I'm still going off the Glyset. It's $65 down the drain every 3 months that doesn't really do anything for me (the last time I tried to go off of it, I went cold turkey and ended up feeling like crap. This time I'm going halfsies and I feel fine). We'll see how I feel once I'm completely off of it.

Today I was bored and watching TV when I saw the Golden Girls was so, so I flipped to it. In this episode, Dorothy is struggling with a mystery illness, especially when her first doctor dismisses it as in her head and tells her to see a psychiatrist. How many of us have heard that one before? As the episode progresses, she gets a second opinion and lands the diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. She's of course, incredibly relieved to have a name attached to it (as most of us are... nothing worse than knowing something's wrong and no one believing you) and goes out to a fancy restaurant with her roommates to celebrate. As they're toasting she spots the doctor who initially told her to go see a psychiatrist. Dorothy summons the courage to go over to his table and say that she actually had a diagnosis now and the he was wrong and that if had just listened to her and put some humanity back into his profession then it could've saved her a lot of heartache. She also mentions that if she were a man, then her problems might've been taken more seriously.

Now, who afflicted with a dysautonomia hasn't been through that song and dance before? What's striking to me is that this episode aired in 1989. Almost 20 years later the medical profession is struggling with the same crap: telling patients (mostly women) that it's all in their head and to go see a psychiatrist and to stop bugging them with their problems. Furthermore, many illnesses which have a majority of women as patients get the "psychological origin" diagnosis than the illnesses that mostly afflict men.

I just love how far we've come as a society.

Random Thoughts in the Library being Next to a human germ bomb

Seriously folks, if you're a sneezy mcsneezerton of a coughy mcsougherson, don't go out in public. Some of us with preexisting chronic conditions made worse by contagious illnesses can't afford to get sick.

My stomach pain nearly everytime I eat these days has gotten out of hand. I'm cutting the Glyset back because I think it's the cause of my GI problems and I don't really need to be on it. Hopefully this will work. The pain has gotten to the point where food disgusts me. I'm dreading eating. Not fun. So far, cutting back on the Glyset seems to be helping.

I also ran low on Atenolol before realizing I needed to mail the prescription in to get it refilled. Oops. I cut the pills in half to have at least SOME to get me through tomorrow. I hope my pills will come in the mail by then. If not... then this will be fun. In the mean time withdrawing from Atenolol is like having a shot of adrenaline hit you all at once (though not as bad as Paxil withdrawal) and my POTS symptoms have been worse the past couple of days. I've been back on the cane. The looks you get when you're my age (20) walking around with a cane are pretty priceless. Especially when it's an old person who looks like they're thinking to themselves "well, it could be worse."

That's the pain...

Why is it that nearly everything I put in my stomach these days ends in horrible pain?

I've damn near developed an aversion to eating.

This sucks.

Heartburn?

I might be running out of Atenolol soon... I've been too lazy to send my prescription in to Caremark and when I realized that I had only 9 pills left, it was time to get on it. Hopefully I'll get it before I run out *crosses fingers.*

I'm not sure how well it's working. Overall it's alright, but I'm still cold all the time with a waxing and waning appetite (today I've been eating like 3 pregnant women). Also, I've noticed that I'm more prone to heartburn when I drink alcohol... and heartburn in general.

One great thing about having POTS: you know its not going to be a productive day early on based on the fact that your legs are already swollen and in pain an hour after you wake up.

All things considered, the Atenolol is working pretty well. The crazy side effects have subsided except for the dreams, but I'm used to that, and the being slightly chilly all the time. My appetite has managed to find a balance between hunger and not, which is good (although it tends on the "not" side). So yeah, I'm adjusting pretty well.

However, I still have POTS and that means I don't have as much energy to work with as everyone else. This semester I think I bit off WAY more than I can chew (16 hours of classes two of which are cross listed as graduate level, concert band, pep band, 10 hours of work per week and volunteering for a presidential campaign). That's a pretty heavy load for the normal ones among us but for someone with POTS it's pretty damn ridiculous. So I think I'm going to have significantly reduce or eliminate my involvement with the pep band. It's not like I'll be able to go on any of the trips this year what with classes being as crazy as they are (I'm not kidding when I say that my spring break will be spent working). I would reduce my volunteer involvement except that it's mandatory volunteering for one of my classes and I have to get 45 hours in by the end of the semester. Concert band is my stress release and quitting work isn't something I'm prepared to think about.