Today I decided i'd had enough of laying in bed doing nothing, so I got up and prepped to go outside. I changed into more appropriate clothing and slathered on the sunscreen, then headed out the door with my net and bucket.
You see, even at 22, I still love to play in the muck. Two days ago I took my little brother tadpole hunting, and we'd started a little mini pond in a kiddie pool in our backyard. Today I wanted to go by myself so I would get to do it my way. We have at least four ponds and a river down the path by our house, so I headed out. I left my shoes home, as I didn't want to get them wet. This is where I screwed up. You see, it was 73 and sunny today, and the blacktop was extremely hot. I walked down to the river, caught soom minnows, then stopped at a couple of spots by the closest pond to catch tadpoles before heading home. I'd noticed my feet kind of hurt on my way TO the river, and by the time I was headed back home, I knew how big of a mistake i'd made.
I am now the proud owner of 2nd degree burns on both feet. I have 3 blisters that are larger than a half-dollar, and 5 more that are dime sized or less. I can't really walk and I'm attempting to use blister bandaids to cushion them. Did I mention that Becca and I will be attending a concert on July 1st? I hope these heal fast!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Life Is Looking Up :)
It really is.
Oscar is almost 100% back to normal, acting like a total spaz.
I visited Becca on Thursday, she looks amazing, but don't take my word for it, here's a picture!
Oh, and I went from being unemployed to having 2 jobs, woo!
Oscar is almost 100% back to normal, acting like a total spaz.
I visited Becca on Thursday, she looks amazing, but don't take my word for it, here's a picture!
Oh, and I went from being unemployed to having 2 jobs, woo!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Miracles do happen. Organ donors are true angels.
The liver was a match.
Becca went in to surgery around 7pm CDT, and should be out of surgery and transferred to the ICU within the next hour or so.
She still needs all the prayers and healing thoughts she can get, as she's not out of the woods yet, but we're all extremely hopeful!
UPDATE 8:33am CDT 06/15/11: She is awake and feeling good this morning! :)
Becca went in to surgery around 7pm CDT, and should be out of surgery and transferred to the ICU within the next hour or so.
She still needs all the prayers and healing thoughts she can get, as she's not out of the woods yet, but we're all extremely hopeful!
UPDATE 8:33am CDT 06/15/11: She is awake and feeling good this morning! :)
The Call.
Just got a text from Becca.
She got "the call".
Mayo Clinic may have found her a matching liver.
I am beyond excited, and so hopeful that it is truly a match.
Please send thoughts, prayers, and all the positive vibes you can her way, she'll be needing them.
She got "the call".
Mayo Clinic may have found her a matching liver.
I am beyond excited, and so hopeful that it is truly a match.
Please send thoughts, prayers, and all the positive vibes you can her way, she'll be needing them.
Dealing with my SECOND animal crisis this year, or, how owning a Dachshund is EXPENSIVE.
I swear, I'm cursed as far as animals go.
Last Thursday, I took my mini doxie, Oscar, to the vet. I'd found green discarge on his penis, he yelped when touched near his back end, and I worried he had a sheath infection. So off to the vet, who examines him, tries to get a urine sample (no dice) and then informs me that he's got some weakness in his back end. Okay, that was not what I was expecting. She put him on metacam and told me to call back on Monday to talk about how he's doing. Okay.
Cue Friday night. I go out to bring Oscar in (he loves the outdoors, and so he plays in the back yard during the day) and can't find him. I eventually do, hiding in the garage. I try to get him out of his hiding spot, and he starts screaming and biting me. I lost it and started sobbing, partially out of shock, pain, and knowing something is horribly wrong. I bring him inside and set him down. He attempts to go lay down, but his back legs are not cooperating. My mind reels, and I know that this is the start of a bad thing.
I calm myself enough to call the vet's office. It's 7:30pm on a Friday night, but the vet has his personal cell phone number left on the voicemail for emergencies. I call and explain what happened. He reassures me that Oscar will be fine until Monday, continue with his meds, and then tells me to take care of my wounds (Oscar broke the skin in several places when he bit me) fine.
Today comes, and I call the vet's office. I tell them Oscar has deteriorated significantly since Thursday. I ask for the soonest appointment, and it's set for 1pm. The time comes, and I load Oscar into the car, still in his bed. We get there and Dr. Rich examines him. I know what's coming, every Dachshund owner's worst nightmare, the prospect of Intervertebral Disc Disease. I voice my fears to Dr. Rich, and he agrees xrays are in order to see where the problem is.
On a bit of a side note, Dr. Rich knows I want to be a vet, and that I'm currently trying for my Animal Science degree. Because of this, he always keeps me 100% in the loop, and consults with me on care and such. He treats me like not only a customer and pet parent, but also a colleague. I see all test results, and we discuss them together. So when Oscar's xrays came back, we took a look, and though being closer to the brightness of the backlight and having a harder time seeing it originally, the problem was plain as day from my vantage point. A narrowing of the space between the L1 and L2 vertebrae. Classic IVDD.
My world collapsed a little. I knew what this meant. Oscar would need aggressive treatment if he was to regain the function he'd lost. Surgery is the best option, but unfortunately, I don't have $3000 to do that. That left only one option, steroids. We discussed outcomes and quality of life, agreeing that if he was in pain constantly, euthanasia would be the best option, but obviously we'd try what we could first. Dr. Rich said at one point that he'd like to try doing a lamenectomy sometime at their clinic. Obviously he's not a specialist, but he'd assisted on a few in vet school.
So it was that Oscar is now on steroids, in hopes he'll rally and all we'll have to do is modify what he can and cannot do, and he'll live a long, happy doxie life. Second best outcome is he'll only need a cart, and will live paralyzed but pain free. Worst outcome is he'll get worse and be in immense pain, at which point the decision will be to put him to sleep so he doesn't suffer. My mom and I talked about it, and if it comes to that point, we will offer Oscar to Dr. Rich to attempt a lamenectomy on, depending on how much it would cost. Obviously he's no expert, and hasn't ever done one himself, hasn't assisted on one in years, but if there's no other option, we'd at least give him a chance.
For now Oscar is confined to the laundry room, carried outside to go potty, and his activity is kept to a minimum. He's on prednisolone and tramadol, so every eight hours I shove a tramadol down his throat, and twice a day I do the same with the steroids. It's a pain in the ass, but I love him and would therefore do anything for him. All people entering the house are told to, under no circumstances, touch or otherwise engage the dog. Thankfully my mom and step-dad have been helping with potty breaks so that I get a break. All in all, I'm terrified, I can't lose my best buddy, I've already lost one animal that meant a ton to me this year, I don't want to lose another.
And that's been my life recently.
Prayers and healing thoughts would be much appreciated.
I hope things are going better for the rest of you.
Last Thursday, I took my mini doxie, Oscar, to the vet. I'd found green discarge on his penis, he yelped when touched near his back end, and I worried he had a sheath infection. So off to the vet, who examines him, tries to get a urine sample (no dice) and then informs me that he's got some weakness in his back end. Okay, that was not what I was expecting. She put him on metacam and told me to call back on Monday to talk about how he's doing. Okay.
Cue Friday night. I go out to bring Oscar in (he loves the outdoors, and so he plays in the back yard during the day) and can't find him. I eventually do, hiding in the garage. I try to get him out of his hiding spot, and he starts screaming and biting me. I lost it and started sobbing, partially out of shock, pain, and knowing something is horribly wrong. I bring him inside and set him down. He attempts to go lay down, but his back legs are not cooperating. My mind reels, and I know that this is the start of a bad thing.
I calm myself enough to call the vet's office. It's 7:30pm on a Friday night, but the vet has his personal cell phone number left on the voicemail for emergencies. I call and explain what happened. He reassures me that Oscar will be fine until Monday, continue with his meds, and then tells me to take care of my wounds (Oscar broke the skin in several places when he bit me) fine.
Today comes, and I call the vet's office. I tell them Oscar has deteriorated significantly since Thursday. I ask for the soonest appointment, and it's set for 1pm. The time comes, and I load Oscar into the car, still in his bed. We get there and Dr. Rich examines him. I know what's coming, every Dachshund owner's worst nightmare, the prospect of Intervertebral Disc Disease. I voice my fears to Dr. Rich, and he agrees xrays are in order to see where the problem is.
On a bit of a side note, Dr. Rich knows I want to be a vet, and that I'm currently trying for my Animal Science degree. Because of this, he always keeps me 100% in the loop, and consults with me on care and such. He treats me like not only a customer and pet parent, but also a colleague. I see all test results, and we discuss them together. So when Oscar's xrays came back, we took a look, and though being closer to the brightness of the backlight and having a harder time seeing it originally, the problem was plain as day from my vantage point. A narrowing of the space between the L1 and L2 vertebrae. Classic IVDD.
My world collapsed a little. I knew what this meant. Oscar would need aggressive treatment if he was to regain the function he'd lost. Surgery is the best option, but unfortunately, I don't have $3000 to do that. That left only one option, steroids. We discussed outcomes and quality of life, agreeing that if he was in pain constantly, euthanasia would be the best option, but obviously we'd try what we could first. Dr. Rich said at one point that he'd like to try doing a lamenectomy sometime at their clinic. Obviously he's not a specialist, but he'd assisted on a few in vet school.
So it was that Oscar is now on steroids, in hopes he'll rally and all we'll have to do is modify what he can and cannot do, and he'll live a long, happy doxie life. Second best outcome is he'll only need a cart, and will live paralyzed but pain free. Worst outcome is he'll get worse and be in immense pain, at which point the decision will be to put him to sleep so he doesn't suffer. My mom and I talked about it, and if it comes to that point, we will offer Oscar to Dr. Rich to attempt a lamenectomy on, depending on how much it would cost. Obviously he's no expert, and hasn't ever done one himself, hasn't assisted on one in years, but if there's no other option, we'd at least give him a chance.
For now Oscar is confined to the laundry room, carried outside to go potty, and his activity is kept to a minimum. He's on prednisolone and tramadol, so every eight hours I shove a tramadol down his throat, and twice a day I do the same with the steroids. It's a pain in the ass, but I love him and would therefore do anything for him. All people entering the house are told to, under no circumstances, touch or otherwise engage the dog. Thankfully my mom and step-dad have been helping with potty breaks so that I get a break. All in all, I'm terrified, I can't lose my best buddy, I've already lost one animal that meant a ton to me this year, I don't want to lose another.
And that's been my life recently.
Prayers and healing thoughts would be much appreciated.
I hope things are going better for the rest of you.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
An Update, and A Call For Prayers
First, let's talk about me. It's been almost two weeks since I posted about the Cymbalta incident, and I am still feeling the effects of that. Thankfully they are almost non-existent, but every once in a while, I notice.
I went through a very rough period after the Cymbalta incident. It seemed as if all of my medications had stopped working, and the pain was impossible to ignore, and I was not able to cope. I saw my PCP about it, and he went through his ideas for treatment with me. Most of them were medications I had previously tried that had no effect. Then he suggested raising my prednisone dose, which I told him the Mayo Rheumatologist did NOT want happening, so that was out. Finally he suggested that maybe my issues were from lack of sleep, as I hadn't slept well in months. He prescribed Valium to try and help me sleep (I can't do most actual sleep meds) and hoped that would help, otherwise we'd be back at square one.
The first couple of nights didn't work, I was taking the Valium, plus Unisom and Melatonin to try to get sleep. No dice. The third night I discont'd the Melatonin, and switched from Unisom SleepGels (diphenhydramine) to Unisom SleepTabs (doxylamine). That night I slept like a rock, had multiple dreams, and woke up the next day in complete awe of what a good night sleep could do. I hadn't felt that good in YEARS. I had energy, felt like doing things, and though I had some minor aches, they weren't even bad enough to warrant an ibuprofen. I have been feeling pretty good since, and I really hope it continues.
Now for the prayer request.
I've written about my friend Becca a few times, I met her last summer in pain rehab at the Mayo Clinic. She was diagnosed at 4 with Primary Sclerosing Colangitis. She's had two liver transplants, but is currently in need of a third. I went to visit her at the beginning of April. The first day and a half of my visit she was doing okay, and we enjoyed a wonderful warm day out. On my third day, her nausea was so overwhelming that I took her to the hospital. She was admitted, and has basically been in ever since. She was released for a day or so, only to transfer from one hospital to another that has a liver transplant clinic. She is not doing very well. Her nausea is such that she can barely eat, and they are considering putting in a feeding tube. Her quality of life right now is not so great, and I worry about her quite a bit. She is only 23 years old, and one of the most genuinely kind, caring people I have ever met. Even as sick as she is, she makes origami for other patients, and talks with them. So if you could spare a prayer, a thought, or even just some healing vibes and send them her way, that would be great.
Hope you are all well.
-Jess
I went through a very rough period after the Cymbalta incident. It seemed as if all of my medications had stopped working, and the pain was impossible to ignore, and I was not able to cope. I saw my PCP about it, and he went through his ideas for treatment with me. Most of them were medications I had previously tried that had no effect. Then he suggested raising my prednisone dose, which I told him the Mayo Rheumatologist did NOT want happening, so that was out. Finally he suggested that maybe my issues were from lack of sleep, as I hadn't slept well in months. He prescribed Valium to try and help me sleep (I can't do most actual sleep meds) and hoped that would help, otherwise we'd be back at square one.
The first couple of nights didn't work, I was taking the Valium, plus Unisom and Melatonin to try to get sleep. No dice. The third night I discont'd the Melatonin, and switched from Unisom SleepGels (diphenhydramine) to Unisom SleepTabs (doxylamine). That night I slept like a rock, had multiple dreams, and woke up the next day in complete awe of what a good night sleep could do. I hadn't felt that good in YEARS. I had energy, felt like doing things, and though I had some minor aches, they weren't even bad enough to warrant an ibuprofen. I have been feeling pretty good since, and I really hope it continues.
Now for the prayer request.
I've written about my friend Becca a few times, I met her last summer in pain rehab at the Mayo Clinic. She was diagnosed at 4 with Primary Sclerosing Colangitis. She's had two liver transplants, but is currently in need of a third. I went to visit her at the beginning of April. The first day and a half of my visit she was doing okay, and we enjoyed a wonderful warm day out. On my third day, her nausea was so overwhelming that I took her to the hospital. She was admitted, and has basically been in ever since. She was released for a day or so, only to transfer from one hospital to another that has a liver transplant clinic. She is not doing very well. Her nausea is such that she can barely eat, and they are considering putting in a feeding tube. Her quality of life right now is not so great, and I worry about her quite a bit. She is only 23 years old, and one of the most genuinely kind, caring people I have ever met. Even as sick as she is, she makes origami for other patients, and talks with them. So if you could spare a prayer, a thought, or even just some healing vibes and send them her way, that would be great.
Hope you are all well.
-Jess
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Missing Meds: The effects doctors don't warn you about.
Cymbalta.
According to Wikipedia, "Duloxetine (sold under the brand names Cymbalta, Ariclaim, Xeristar, Yentreve) is a serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor manufactured and marketed by Eli Lilly. It is effective for major depressive disorder and has been shown to be as effective as venlafaxine for generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). Duloxetine alleviates pain associated with diabetic neuropathy and fibromyalgia."
True. Doctors have been pushing Cymbalta on people since it came on the market. I personally ended up on Cymbalta after the councilor I was seeing for some various family and depression issues, suggested I speak with my psychiatrist about changing medications, as he believed my Sertraline (brand name Zoloft) had become ineffective.
So I saw my psychiatrist. She agreed a med switch may make things a little easier, and suggested I go on Cymbalta. I agreed, as I had no reason to doubt her judgement. At that time she also told me she'd like to see me back in three months, but she would be switching clinics. I agreed to follow her to the new clinic.
Fast forward to Friday, April 29th. I was on my last pill of a 3 month supply. I had forgotten to make the appointment with my psychiatrist, and there were no refills on my medication. Drat. Since I'd never previously had any problem skipping a few days of meds, I decided to wait until Monday to call. Friday was also the day I went to the horse expo with my roommate, we walked three miles, and I horribly overdid things. That night I started feeling sick.
By Saturday, my sleep patterns were a bit messed up, and I was having some light dizziness and nausea. I attributed all of that to my time spent at expo. Sunday the dizziness and nausea were worse, and I could not sleep for the life of me. Every muscle felt tense and my brain felt hyperaware of the dizziness. By Monday night, I'd had enough. At 10:30pm my roommate and I took off for the emergency room. At this time I was still attributing things to my overdoing it at expo. They gave me zofran for the nausea, it did nothing. Tramadol for the pain, more nothing. They finally gave me a shot of domperidone, and that took care of the nausea. At this point, I was exhausted, but also felt like every nerve and muscle in my body was on full alert and wide awake. By the time we got home at 2am, I still couldn't sleep.
Tuesday I woke up and felt fine for the first 30 minutes of being awake, and then it all hit me at once. Dizziness, nausea, blurred vision, brain fog, hyperaware nerves, insomnia, tremors, confusion, "zaps", profuse sweating, feeling flushed, vertigo, irritability, aggression, anxiety, headache, lethargy, nightmares, extreme muscle tension. You name the symptom. I had it. I felt like I was dying. It was while looking through my pill bottles for something, ANYTHING that might work, that I came across my empty Cymbalta bottle. It was then that I put two and two together. I googled Cymbalta withdrawal. The things I read were horrific, and yet so familiar. I was never warned about any of it.
My problems did not stop there, however. I could not get my medication refilled until Wednesday, since they would have to call in to the clinic I went to. Wednesday my symptoms had increased yet again, and I was in a constant haze. My mom called me at 7:30pm saying they had my meds, and I drove the forty-five minutes home to get them. I took one at 8pm. I returned to my apartment by 9:30 and decided to have dinner. BAD IDEA. The nausea, which had been just barely tolerable, became impossible to ignore. By 11:30pm I felt so awful that I called my mother in tears, pleading for her to make it stop. After that call, I went back to my bed, across from my soundly sleeping roommate, and spent the next hour trying not to vomit.
Thankfully, at 12:30am, the medication seemed to have entered my system, and the nausea backed off enough for me to fall into a fitful sleep. I woke up at 6am and took all my medications, including a zofran. Now that the day is wearing on, and I have had 60mg of Cymbalta in my system, I am feeling much more human. Still slightly dizzy, a tiny bit nauseous, and I have a headache, but I will take that over everything I had yesterday.
So take this story as a warning, and ask your doctor if any new medications he or she prescribes to you have side effects and or cessation effects. I wish I had know, maybe I wouldn't have had to suffer.
According to Wikipedia, "Duloxetine (sold under the brand names Cymbalta, Ariclaim, Xeristar, Yentreve) is a serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor manufactured and marketed by Eli Lilly. It is effective for major depressive disorder and has been shown to be as effective as venlafaxine for generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). Duloxetine alleviates pain associated with diabetic neuropathy and fibromyalgia."
True. Doctors have been pushing Cymbalta on people since it came on the market. I personally ended up on Cymbalta after the councilor I was seeing for some various family and depression issues, suggested I speak with my psychiatrist about changing medications, as he believed my Sertraline (brand name Zoloft) had become ineffective.
So I saw my psychiatrist. She agreed a med switch may make things a little easier, and suggested I go on Cymbalta. I agreed, as I had no reason to doubt her judgement. At that time she also told me she'd like to see me back in three months, but she would be switching clinics. I agreed to follow her to the new clinic.
Fast forward to Friday, April 29th. I was on my last pill of a 3 month supply. I had forgotten to make the appointment with my psychiatrist, and there were no refills on my medication. Drat. Since I'd never previously had any problem skipping a few days of meds, I decided to wait until Monday to call. Friday was also the day I went to the horse expo with my roommate, we walked three miles, and I horribly overdid things. That night I started feeling sick.
By Saturday, my sleep patterns were a bit messed up, and I was having some light dizziness and nausea. I attributed all of that to my time spent at expo. Sunday the dizziness and nausea were worse, and I could not sleep for the life of me. Every muscle felt tense and my brain felt hyperaware of the dizziness. By Monday night, I'd had enough. At 10:30pm my roommate and I took off for the emergency room. At this time I was still attributing things to my overdoing it at expo. They gave me zofran for the nausea, it did nothing. Tramadol for the pain, more nothing. They finally gave me a shot of domperidone, and that took care of the nausea. At this point, I was exhausted, but also felt like every nerve and muscle in my body was on full alert and wide awake. By the time we got home at 2am, I still couldn't sleep.
Tuesday I woke up and felt fine for the first 30 minutes of being awake, and then it all hit me at once. Dizziness, nausea, blurred vision, brain fog, hyperaware nerves, insomnia, tremors, confusion, "zaps", profuse sweating, feeling flushed, vertigo, irritability, aggression, anxiety, headache, lethargy, nightmares, extreme muscle tension. You name the symptom. I had it. I felt like I was dying. It was while looking through my pill bottles for something, ANYTHING that might work, that I came across my empty Cymbalta bottle. It was then that I put two and two together. I googled Cymbalta withdrawal. The things I read were horrific, and yet so familiar. I was never warned about any of it.
My problems did not stop there, however. I could not get my medication refilled until Wednesday, since they would have to call in to the clinic I went to. Wednesday my symptoms had increased yet again, and I was in a constant haze. My mom called me at 7:30pm saying they had my meds, and I drove the forty-five minutes home to get them. I took one at 8pm. I returned to my apartment by 9:30 and decided to have dinner. BAD IDEA. The nausea, which had been just barely tolerable, became impossible to ignore. By 11:30pm I felt so awful that I called my mother in tears, pleading for her to make it stop. After that call, I went back to my bed, across from my soundly sleeping roommate, and spent the next hour trying not to vomit.
Thankfully, at 12:30am, the medication seemed to have entered my system, and the nausea backed off enough for me to fall into a fitful sleep. I woke up at 6am and took all my medications, including a zofran. Now that the day is wearing on, and I have had 60mg of Cymbalta in my system, I am feeling much more human. Still slightly dizzy, a tiny bit nauseous, and I have a headache, but I will take that over everything I had yesterday.
So take this story as a warning, and ask your doctor if any new medications he or she prescribes to you have side effects and or cessation effects. I wish I had know, maybe I wouldn't have had to suffer.
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