Tag: health

Mystery Illness

This is not my first run dealing with a mystery illness. It took years to be diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. I had mild issues while working at the non-profit farm sanctuary. The doctors in that small town told me my loose stool was from the lack if a gallbladder or my cholesterol being too low. The advice was to eat eggs.

After The Creature was born my body went haywire. I had lumps and sores on my legs. My entire mouth was covered in canker sores including the roof and uvula, whoch made eating nearly impossible. It took a Facebook friend, who happened to be a doctor and was a former member of the board of the farm, to help me. But that is a story for another day… perhaps with the photos of what my husband called the zombie leg.

My insight into my new mystery illness came to me from the news app on my phone. The headline was about a teenager who died from complications from this thing called Cannabinoid Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS). The theory of CHS is there is a toxic build up of THC in the body that gets stored in the fat cells. More research needs to be done on this horrific condition.

I will hesitantly admit I used cannabis in high school and on off in my twenties. After being diagnosed with Crohn’s I got a medical card. For me it seemed to improve my bowel movements and seemed to make me feel like more myself. I never used during any of my pregnancies and would never drive while high.

After my second daughter was born I held off using for a few months. Until postpartum depression hit hard. When I was high I got energy. My house was more often than not clean. I would play with my children and I was functioning human.

That was until it turned on me. Towards the end of my relationship with cannabis I was using multiple times a day. Becoming more isolated and felt even more alone. Every morning for over four months my stomach was in pain. The only thing that seemed to help was using.

The day I read that article all the symptoms I was suffering from echoed back to me. For me it was the bouts of vomiting that led to the ER. Losing weight drastically from not being able to eat for weeks. The pain in my stomach. This poor young man lost his life due to getting so dehydrated his body shut down.

To test if CHS was my culprit I stopped using. The first day of not using I woke up with no stomach pain. After months of pain that would leave me in tears – it was gone.

Today I am thirty days sober. During those days I experienced a relapse at two weeks and had to restart the clock. I had to go through hell detoxing my body. I was left feeling hot and cold. Sweaty for no reason drenching my clothing. The mood swings left me wanting to rip myself out of my body. Literally tear my flesh off and be done with this fucken life. Other times I stoped using cannabis I never experienced this monster before.

As I sit here I am not completely recovered. From the gathered experience from a facebook support page it can take up to ninety days to feel normal again. I still experience waves of massive mood swings. My appetite still is not quite right. But I am trying my best every day to remain sober for myself and my family. As the culture shifts with CBD and cannabis we need to be aware there is a darker side for some people. I am seeking help from a therapist- this is my act of bravery. I am grateful I no longer have stomach pain and am on the path to living a healthy life.

The Snap Back

During my last conversation with my mentor I was warned of a potential snap back. Not even two day later I woke up in the morning with the familiar pain in my stomach but this time the pain seared through me with greater intensity. After going to bathroom I was left a crumpled ball moaning at the foot of the bed. The nausea started to roll in as I fumbled around for the blue vomit bags that I kept near the bed. I am grateful I was able to grab one in time as my stomach heaved. By this point my husband was rubbing my back and my girls looked in with concern.

The next two days were a blur of darkness in the cave that was our bedroom. The Beast would come join me to nurse. Poor thing didn’t understand why she couldn’t have mommy on demand as she was use to.

Day three arrived and I headed to the Emergency Room to get much needed fluids. It was a Monday and the waiting room was packed and too bright. I sat hunched over waiting for my name to be called. The wait seemed endless. My name was called and my vitals were checked. I was handed a cup to pee in and told to head down the hall to get labs done. The walk down the short hallway took a lot of effort. My body hunched over as I hobbled feeling much older than I am. Staff whizzed by me as I trudged to the bathroom and then the lab.

Once I made my way back to the waiting room, I sat again waiting – wanting so badly the darkness and to lay down. My name was called again. The Physician’s Assistant took me to a small hallway off to the side of the waiting room. I couldn’t take standing any longer. My body crumpled to the ground and curled up into a ball. She explained there were no available beds at this time. She could give me oral Zofran while I waited. I lost it at that point. The gate opened and the tears burst forth. I sobbed telling her I cannot even keep a sip of water down and how the hell was I going to take a pill. I also explained that Zofran does not work on me. I sobbed telling her I had small children and I am a caregiver. I never ask for help but I needed it now. There was no sympathy or kind words. I’d just have to wait.

I felt the world crashing around me. I hobbled my hunched broken body outside into the darkness. There, I sat on the curb near a women sleeping on a bench and a man who looked like he’d seen some shit rubbing her back. I sobbed into the phone to my husband. Just wanting to go home and back to the comfort of our bed. At this point a security guard came out to “ check” on the women seen stumbling out of the ER (me). I sobbed to him telling him I just need fluids. He left me alone grumbling that he would check the wait time (he never did).

After awhile I collected myself the best I could and headed back in. I parked my butt on the floor near the door. It wasn’t as bright and the tv noise was less. I waited some more and was finally called back.

I crawled into the bed as a nurse prepared the IV. After it was in place she was kind enough to get me a warm blanket. The PA steps back in saying she wants to try the Zofran. I had no fight left in my being. I allowed her to push the medication into the IV and she left. As the medication entered my body my stomach pain raged with increasing intensity. The nausea heightened. My body groaned as the vomiting restarted. My whole being just wanted to die. I couldn’t take this pain any longer. Moaning and vomiting and wanting to just die already.

After awhile a nurse came to check on me and saw the amount of pain I was in. She offered Morphine and Reglan to help the nausea. Once those drugs were on board the pain ceased and the nausea was at bay.

Before the second bag was fully finished I was unhooked and discharged. Told to take Reglan as needed and was sent on my way.

This episode lasted a week. A week in bed vomiting. Dropping weight very fast (about ten pounds). The Reglan left me with a crazy vision of people standing over my bed. Not sure what they were doing but they were there. Later, on my own, I figured out what was going on with me. That is another story for another day.