So, things have not been happy-dapper over the last few weeks, autoimmune disease-speaking. It all started last August when my IBS suddenly turned into full-on chest pains, fatigue, and difficulty breathing, which I at first thought might be another onset of pericarditis (I talked about that in the last post). After a few hairy weeks with the fabulous Dr. H, we finally figured out that the chest pain (in the upper right part of my abdomen/chest) was actually an extremely pissed-off stomach. When she pressed down on my belly button, my hands and feet would shoot in the air from the pain like I was a marionette. I had gastroenteritis.
It was pretty obvious to both of us that the Mobic was the problem, but she tried a few different things first to see if I could adjust to the drug and keep my stomach lining at the same time. When a round of acid reducers and Lev-Bid didn't do any good, away went my Mobic, and I had to spend another two weeks on Lev-Bid and Prevacid until my glass stomach healed enough to handle food. Even as of today I can't take ibuprofen without getting violently ill.
Over the next few weeks, my posture straightened back out from the old lady shuffle I had adopted, and I stopped dropping weight like a rock. (I lost six pounds during my last two weeks on the Mobic.) I could eat solid food again, and I could stare at a McDonald's sign without going into dry heaves. Success!
Well, almost. The problem was that I didn't have any anti-inflammatories in my system anymore to take care of the swelling. The first month or so was heavenly: very little swelling, lots of energy, normal sleep functions. It was almost like I was... a grad student! Then, slowly but surely, the puffiness came back. In my wrists, it came back with a vengence, turning me into a klutz. My arms didn't fit at my sides anymore. My hands went tingly and numb again.
At about the same time, I stopped sleeping. At all. There is probably a host of reasons for this-- the fact that my joints hurt, for instance-- but a large one was the fact that my eyelids were cemented to my corneas and my mouth felt like a leather bag. No amount of eye-lube made a difference. As the sleeplessness worsened and coming off all my eye-drying medications didn't do squat, we tried fiddling with my Prozac to see if timing or dosage would help. That turned out to be a complete disaster. I also have been bouncing between yeast infections and bacterial infections, and I've been on either diflucan, Monistat or Metrogel basically this entire time. My husband looks so lonely.
Anyhow: since I couldn't take NSAIDs any longer, the fabulous Dr. H tried me out on a different class called COX-2 inhibitors, to see if I could tolerate them any better than the Mobic. She gave me a prescription for Celebrex with the instructions to go back on the tummy pills when I took it, just to see if I tolerated it at all. After the first day of incredible indigestion, things settled out and it looked like I could finally take the puff out of my physique.
Well, until day two. That night I felt a little itchy around the hands and feet (not all that unusual, really), but by the next afternoon I was positively digging at my palms. As I sat in a meeting with my graduate director getting read the riot act (a story I'll save for later,) I dug at my palms until my right wrist started bleeding. He looked at me like I was nuts.
"Um," I said, "Sorry. I think I'm having an allergic reaction to Celebrex." And I shuffled out of his office scratching my palms.
And so, after an emergency visit to the fabulous Dr. H, off I came from the Celebrex to see if it was an allergic reaction, and the puffiness, flu-like symptoms, and aching continued unabated. Trying to get all this medication sorted out makes me feel like a rubber paddle-ball. Do I stay on the NSAIDS or not? Which kind? How much Prozac is enough? When do I take it? Is my Allegra and Lev-Bid drying my eyes out so badly that I can't sleep? What do I do if I come off of them? Which is better-- having a splitting sinus headache and aching joints or feeling like I'm going to hurl when I take ibuprofen?
Somebody stop this ride, I wanna get off...
UPDATE: Well, we figured out what the scratching was all about. No, I am not allergic to Celebrex. I have scabies.
Normally you have to sleep in the same room as somebody to catch scabies, but according to the fabulous Dr. H., there's been a scabies breakout in two of the dorms, and it's spreading all over campus without direct contact. As best as we can figure, I caught it off of a kid after I sat down in the same comfy chair in Starbuck's after they left.
This is so humiliating. I bathe, dammit. I have good personal hygeine. Is that too much to ask of our incoming freshman students as well?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
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