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Monthly Archives: May 2012

There’s less than an hour and half left of today so I almost didn’t post, but I knew if I started breaking the post every day rule this early on, I’ll never stick to it. So, here I am trying to will myself to think of something to write. The problem is depression has been crowding my mind lately. There’s no reason in particular, I just feel like I have a cloud hanging over me, and I can’t think straight. Making a decision takes so long. And, I just can’t really find the motivation to write properly, but I wanted to share this cartoon about depression because I think it really helps explain some of the misconceptions of the illness.

Love Katie x

P.s. What do you think of the new blog layout?

Click here to read it


I love writing.

For a while my brain was so foggy and mixed up, I couldn’t think to write. Now I can write, there are so many articles, blog posts, etc swimming around in my mind and my body won’t let me write. For most of the time I have been writing this blog, I have just written through the pain. It hurts a lot, but I feel like I’ll go insane if I don’t write. I have always kept a diary for no other reason than I love writing so I hate that I can’t do that at the moment.

I’m even drinking my coffee through a straw because it hurts too much to lift it up to my lips all the time.

With enough painkillers I’ve managed to write for a while but there are times when I simply can’t. It’s hard to explain, my arms just seem to cease up like a piece of wood and refuse to move.

The timing is not great, I have the chance to write some articles for the AYME magazine and some column applications too. I’ve tried using a scribe programme. Does anyone else use Dragon? I can’t seem to get on with it. It takes so much longer to write than by hand or typing, and it just feels so awkward speaking out loud. Does it get better? I mean, will I get used to it and get faster? Or, will it always feel like I’m reading to a very deaf auntie?

I can’t handle writing anymore today.

Love Katie x


One of the things I did this weekend with my mummy was to go to the Roath Craft Fayre. I’ve been meaning to go for ages but have either been too busy or ill. The stalls there were fantastic. I wanted to take pictures to put on here but I was afraid the crafters would think I was stealing their ideas.

Paul and I think it would be a good place for me to sell some of the things I make. Most of you probably don’t know that I have a small creative business on the side called Pandora’s Box. It’s not a big earner but it’s nice to have a little bit of money on the side and have something to do with all the things I make.

Since I’ve been going through this bad patch with my illness I haven’t made much, my arms have been hurting too much. I’ve got some stuff already made though, and hopefully having a stall to work towards will give my body some impetus. Getting to the craft fayre and manning a stall is going to be a struggle in my current condition, but I’m going to try and manage it once a month over the summer.

I love the feeling of knowing I’ve earnt some money and can pay for something, even if it is only once in a while.

Wish me luck.

Love Katie x

P.s. If you want to find out more about Pandora’s Box, you can read the story here and the Etsy shop here.

 

 

 


I wanted to start this post by saying a quick thank you to all of you who have shared links to my blog across the internet. the viewings particularly increased in response to Paul’s blog post on Saturday night. it means so much to me to know that this blog is helping to increase awareness about life with a chronic illness, it may be cheeky to ask, but i am cheeky enough to, please continue to share links to my blog posts, even if you already have, and encourage your friends to so the same.

Me and my Mummy Bear

On to business. So, I have not been writing posts for the last few days because I am wiped out by a visit from my mummy. As usual, whenever someone comes to visit (especially my mummy) I can’t seem to stop talking or showing them things. I am like an excited child showing off their Christmas presents. I always end up way overdoing it and needing days of recovery. I am surprised my family even believe I’m sick because I am always so excited and energetic around them. Remember that placebo effect I talked about before? Well it seems to work for a whole day around my mummy.

Usually I’m very tired after a visit but the pain has been extraordinary this time. I made it to church this evening but my legs were hurting so much I had to lie on the floor during the preach, which Paul found hilarious.

It frustrates me greatly that I can’t worship God properly. The church I go to has worship relevant to our time, my mum would say it’s like a rock concert. I want to be jumping up and down, wave my arms in the air, dance and generally get sweaty and out of breath, exactly like I would at a gig, but I’m lucky if I can stand up for one song.

I’m also not able to volunteers on a Sunday at the moment. What I’m most upset about though is Paul and I not becoming leaders. We were apprenticing two leaders in our church to lead a smaller group on Tuesday evenings but because of my health that’s slowed right down, which makes me want to scream. I know that we’re made to lead groups like that, we can feel it in our bones. I’m impatient to start now and my illness getting in the way of that makes me want to scream.

‘Chazown’ is a book about finding God’s vision for your life, there is also a free online course
Source: Google Images

A book I’m reading at the moment really helped me to deal with this. The book is called Chazown, which means ‘vision’ in Hebrew. The author, Craig Groeschel, says that God does two things when we get his vision for our life – (1) work in us; (2) work through us to fulfill that vision. I may be impatient to lead on Tuesday nights but there’s some things I need to get in order to be a good leader. God will use this period of illness to teach me lessons.

And, the second thing that has spoken to me, is that although God didn’t cause me to get ill, He wasn’t taken off guard by this very bad patch. God knows everything so His vision for Paul and I hasn’t been ruined, He would have planned for this couple of months. Groeshel writes that what we may see as set backs, God sees as set ups. Look at Joseph in the Bible. He must have seen being sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit as a major set back – who wouldn’t? It couldn’t have seemed further from the vision of leadership God had for him, but while in prison he continued to use the gift of interpreting dreams God had given him, instead of wallowing in self pity. The man who was in the cell next to him ended up being a servant to the Pharaoh, who he told about Joseph’s gift. Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dream and saved thousands of lives. Had Joseph never been in that cell . . .

Seeing this period of illness through this new perspective, I’m going to take up some advice Paul gave me and make sure I’m the best leader in my church by the time I’m better. I don’t mean to sound all-happy-go-lucky, there is a time for some good old-fashioned sorrow and crying about my situation. Although I have a new perspective, I’m still not exactly pleased about all the pain I’m in and the strain it’s putting on Paul. But, I can either spend the whole time wallowing or get on with the task at hand. I wouldn’t be writing this blog if I’d gone with option number one . . .

Love Katie x

P.s. If you wanted to find out more about Chazown or do the free online course, you can find the website here.


Katie is still too ill to post today. Hopefully she’ll make her sparkling return tomorrow. Until then, I had an article published in this weeks Gair Rhydd, the Cardiff University student’s newspaper. It’s all about the Myths that cloud people’s perceptions of M.E. Hopefully, you’ll like it and find it interesting.

A staggering quarter of a million people in the UK suffer with M.E.. The condition varies from elevated levels of fatigue to a complete physical and mental shut down. Over the last decade its profile has risen dramatically. It is now an internationally recognised medical condition. Research and awareness is slowly, but surely, build up steam. There still exists, however, a number of popular myths surrounding the illness that need to be rebuked.

The one myth that has been largely responsible for the controversy that has surrounded the condition is the notion that the illness was something that manifested, or was invented, in the 1960s. Sceptics have used this myth to condemn M.E. sufferers as ‘fakers’ and, although this attitude has largely dissolved, the assumption that it’s a new illness is still widespread. There is significant evidence that suggests that M.E. has been around for centuries. It is well documented that Florence Nightingale, after her heroics in the Crimean war, became housebound with extreme exhaustion. Charles Darwin too is recorded to have experienced very similar symptoms. Doctors couldn’t find a diagnosis for them at the time, however, hindsight allows us to recognise the likelihood that they both suffered from M.E.. Since then, M.E. was identified in the 19th and early 20th century under the catch all condition, Neurasthenia. It seems that in reality it is only the name, M.E., that is new and not the condition itself.

Image

Florence Nightingale

The second myth is that all M.E. is, is tiredness. There is, in truth, a whole list of symptoms, too many to list here. Some of the most common, and debilitating, symptoms are vertigo, muscle failure and mental exhaustion. M.E. is even recorded to replicate the symptoms of other serious diseases, although this is rare. There are also a number of secondary effects of the illness, including depression and weight gain. Clearly M.E. is much more than tiredness. Many sufferers actually exhibit quite different symptoms, which has lead to speculations that M.E. is actually a variety of different unidentified illnesses.

Finally, it is often perceived that M.E only affect those in their teens, or early twenties, and that people then grow out of it. M.E. can affect you at any point in your life. The condition could flare up after you’ve lived forty years, just as easily as it could in your teens. It can last for months, years, decades. Some sufferers will never recover. They will get better, and worse, but the condition might never go away. Due to the element of mystery that still surrounds M.E. it is not always known why the condition strikes. There is, however, a trend of it being a post viral condition.

Relatively little is known about this potentially devastating illness. People have made assumptions in the past that have now been disproven and I have no doubt that the same thing will happen to the assumptions made now. With such a varied and mysterious condition it is important to keep your mind open to what effect M.E. can have on people.


Dear Readers,

You may have noticed, or maybe you haven’t, that Katie hasn’t posted today. She has committed herself do writing everyday, however, illness has made this an impossible task today. I, her personal assistant/fiancée am quickly filling in. I don’t have much to say, only a sincere thank you to everyone who has read, commented on and shared her blog thus far. It has been a great success, in terms of response and in terms of its effect on Kate’s mood.

I would like to say, however, that, although she is thankful,  she is not content. I believe, and she hopes, that this blog can be even more successful. For this to become a reality, she needs new people to read it. This is where all you come in. She needs you to share, share, share this blog. It up to you!

As I sign out I wish to make one more request. I would like as many of you as possible to comment on this blog post and let us know what your favourite posts have been so far. It’ll give Katie some perspective on what you guys prefer and hopefully give her a little bit more encouragement.

Have a great weekend, 

Paul


I am sorry for yesterday’s cop-out post. I think it was probably the worst blog post I’ve ever written. I should have explained how I managed the picnic or something which would give you more of an insight. I was so exhausted when I wrote it, even more exhausted than usual. I could barely string two words together, let alone think laterally. I hoped that a short post would encourage any of my readers who missed the previous day’s post to read it (read it here). I can’t emphasize how prevalent the topic of loneliness is for sick people, but my goodness was that blog uncomfortable to write because I’m afraid of offending my friends and family. Anyway, it’s out there for an important reason, if you share any posts with your friends and family on Twitter, Facebook, etc, please let it be that one.

Other than a visit from a friend (yay), my days have been slower than usual because of the already mentioned extra exhaustion. I’ve been spending a lot more time sleeping and staring into space blankly. This may be a bit of an over-share but I’m hoping this exhaustion will pass in about a week, just like it does every month. I would hazard a guess that some of my female readers are nodding, understanding what I’m trying to say delicately, while my male readers are wondering why that’s an over-share. This is a girl’s talk post.

My mensies, as Amy Farrah Fowler would call them, have always had a very bad effect on my illnesses. The addition of tummy cramps to all my other aches is not welcome. Not only that, but it makes my usual pains worse.

What is the way I deal with this? Same as every girl- take my mood swings out on the nearest male, sleep a lot more than usual, watch girly films, lots of hot water bottles and cry about my bloated belly. At least, there’s still one normal thing about my body.

Any period combating tips ladies?

Love Katie x


My posts have been pretty heavy and serious the last couple of days so I thought it was time for something a bit more light-hearted. The weather has been strangely hot and sunny the last week or so here in Wales. It actually feels too hot to just sit in bed, I’m thinking I might need a fan!

I managed to make it to She (my Church’s women’s group) on Tuesday for the first time this year. I’ve seen the girls around on Sundays and other Church events but it was nice to be back at She. Taking advantage of the good weather, we had a picnic on Penarth pier. I’ve never been there before so not only was a treat to be out in fresh air but I got to visit a new place. I got so caught up in chatting, laughing and munching on nice food that I didn’t take any pictures (rarity for me). I am quite gutted because although it’s obviously been a long time since the pier got a makeover, I really liked the vintage look to the place, and it was such a beautiful evening. I’ve stolen some of the other girl’s photos from Facebook though, just to show how much fun we had. We played some pretty hilarious games, including a very vicious game of British bulldogs, which I am glad I could legitimately spectate rather than participate in!

I’m off to go sit in the freezer…

Love Katie x


Seven words I’ve come to hate. When you’re sick, it’s then you come to realise the people who really prioritise you. The people who no matter how busy they are, find the time. And, you become aware of just what the flip side of a cancellation feels like.

Before I go on, I want to write a disclaimer, this post is not meant to be a passive aggressive dig at anyone. I don’t want anyone who personally knows me to read this, thinking it is an attempt to guilt trip them.

Making funny faces when my best friend Non came to visit

It’s easy to become bitter at everyone who cancels visits and even more so at the ones that never plan a visit or even text. Especially because, for me, like most people, when someone is coming visit I plan my energy accordingly and a visit is the highlight of my day, maybe even that week, I get so excited and look forward to it so much. For that person, it’s just one little thing they had to cancel, for me, it feels like they’ve cancelled my birthday party. When someone does actually come to visit, for them it’s just an hour or two, for me, it means more than I can currently make my brain think to express.

I’ve come to develop a kind of desperation for people to come visit. I feel like a clingy girlfriend, trying to act hard to get, but actually waiting by the phone, willing it to ring. I have one friend who has come for coffee on a regular basis since I’ve gotten really ill again, but she went home for the summer yesterday. And now, I feel like I’m looking at a long empty couple of months until September.

I tried to avoid feeling like this when I got ill this time. To not get tearful when I think about stuff like this, but it’s like fighting against the tide. I was hesitant to write this blog post because I’ve tried to explain this enough times to know what follows is a semi-patronising speech about how easy it is to become self-involved when you’re sick, and that it’s nothing personal when people cancel or utter the dreaded seven words but never actually get in touch, because it’s just that people have their own lives and are busy. As if having been stuck at home in bed so many times in the last 7 years, I wouldn’t have worked this out.

I completely understand that people have jobs, families, other friends, I’m not that out of touch with the real world. I wouldn’t expect to be anyone’s top priority, except Paul’s, but we all make priority choices on how to spend our time. There are many reasons why I wouldn’t make the priority list, but no matter how you slice it, the hard truth is, sick people never make the list. I’m the last person people catch up with because they don’t have to sync their diaries with me, I’m always in the same place- my bed. Being the last person to see means I’m usually the one to be cancelled on. I’m always free another time. And, let’s face it. What do people get out of seeing me? It’s not like people come to visit because they need to discuss something or make plans.

The women in my Church gave me ’7 Days of Loving’ which culminated in this amazing bunch of flowers on the 8th day. It succeeded in making me feel so loved and special. I wish every sick person could get this from their friends.

Some of you may see this post as somewhat negative, perhaps the ramblings of a depressed person having a bad day. I wish that were true, not necessarily for myself, but because I know there are thousands of sick people who are desperately lonely because of the fact that people don’t prioritise visiting them. Their self-esteem is on the floor because their friends don’t call, like they always say they will, their family always promise they’ll come visit, just as soon as that busy thing is out the way, but the calendar remains empty. I’ve been in bed for months now, but aside from the friend mentioned above, I’ve only had one visit each from three friends. In fact even my best friend, who lives in Kent has managed to visit more than my friends who live in the same city as me. The big exception to the rule this time was the amazing ’7 days of loving’ I had from the women at my Church. I appreciated that so much, and it made me feel so special and entertained (most days had an activity), I know how very lucky I was to have got that, but it hasn’t stopped my loneliness. I don’t want to sound ungrateful in this post, but, that week is the exception, rather than the rule. I’m not writing this post to air my grievances (I wouldn’t do it this way), like I’ve already said a million times, I’m giving a real representation of what it is like to live with a chronic illness. I can’t profess to do that without tackling the big issues, even if they offend some people.

It’s actually because of how lonely I was when I was first ill with M.E. that I started writing letters. My parents still had to work so I didn’t see anyone all day. My mum started making me buy my own stamps because it was costing her a fortune. It’s not like I had tons of news to write, I just had no other way to communicate with anyone. Those days were really long. It pains me so much to know there are thousands of people whose highlight of the day is getting the mail.Before they got sick, each of these people had a life with friends and work colleagues. I always used to wonder why my dad didn’t have any friends, but when I got sick I understood. They disappeared when he got sick, and all he had was our family.

To those of you struggling with an illness, you’re not lonely because it’s your own fault. Your calendar isn’t empty because you’re boring, it’s because we live in a world in which people get caught up in their own bubbles. Keep your chin up, at least we have the internet now. I won’t stay quiet about this, I’m writing this post to expose the uncomfortable truth to your friends and family.

To everyone else, please don’t ever use the seven words in the title of this post. If you’re not a good enough friend to that person to actually commit to visiting them, then stay quiet, it is better to do that. Trust me. If you have a family member or a friend who is sick who you do really care about then make the time to see them. You cannot be so busy that you don’t have an hour. If you really can’t visit, use your phone, write a letter. Just show them that you would actually prioritise them, even if it means cancelling a coffee with someone else you’ve seen recently, or not watching a TV show. They’ll be surprised you found an hour in a couple of months because you’ll be rare, maybe even unique.

I’m not bitter, I’m trying to make a change, so that one day those seven words won’t be uttered without being acted on. I know that this post will knock some people’s noses out of joint, maybe I’ll even lose some friends, but I really am just telling the truth.

Love Katie x

p.s. I’d love to hear your stories below.


There’s a bit of a warning on this post, it may seem quite gross and even an over share on some of the things I’ve mentioned. If you’ll judge me for that, then please don’t read anymore. Maintaining personal hygiene is a big problem for any person struggling with a debilitating illness. When your illness is invisible, people wonder why you look so rough.

This is Ted. I bought him for Paul the first Christmas Paul and I were friends, he’s been enjoying baths with either Paul or I since.

But, that has changed in recent weeks. I’ve never been able to have daily baths like some sufferers do to relieve their aches- I just find it too tiring. In fact, at times I’ve struggled to bathe once a week, and I haven’t been able to stand long enough for a shower in a very long time. My baths in recent weeks have been far from the relaxation bliss I’d come to love, they’ve become almost torturous.

I’ve been willing to keep my mind open and hoping my body would slip back to accepting baths as a time to let my muscles relax, my body just isn’t ready though…

I had a bath today, which convinced me I may even need to increase my painkillers on bath day. It’s the simple things that become so difficult which make me frustrated. I’m not able to run my own bath so Paul has to take at least an hour to an hour and half to help me have a bath. I feel especially guilty about this at the moment because he’s supposed to be revising. Today, I thought I’d mix it up and I used a lovely bottle of bubble bath some women from my Church gave me. The bottle makes me feel like I’ve stepped into the 1940s (and the way I shuffle to my bath makes me feel like I was born then). The vanilla and patchouli smell so great.

After Paul has run the bath for me, and helped me get undressed, he has to lift me into the bath because it hurts too much to lift my leg high enough to get into the bath. When I’m immersed in the hot water, my muscles begin their tug of war. It feels like part of my muscles wants to give into the soothing water and just relax, and the other half is determined to tense until they become as rigid as a bone. It means I’m not able to even lay back in the bath unaided anymore. I have to sit there trying not to be sick from the dizziness I feel while Paul washes my hair and my body. It’s hard for me to write about this because I’d like to not think about it. Times like this make it feel like I’m not in a relationship with Paul but like I’m his elder mother, who is too sick to look after herself anymore. For most people watching their girlfriend bathe is really sexy, if Paul feels that then he has to switch it off because it’s painful even to be touched by hands.

I have to shampoo my hair twice every time I wash it. I never had greasy hair before, but now I can’t wash my hair more than once a week. Thank goodness someone created dry shampoo.

When I said how long Paul has to set aside to bath me, you must have wondered why it takes me so long to bath. It’s not because I’ve gotten drawn into my book, I don’t read in the bath anymore, it’s because everything has to be done so slowly because of the pain. The whole thing feels ridiculous. Sometimes that thought overtakes and I go to take over and wash my own hair or try putting the shampoo in myself. When I do, I regret it immensely because of the pain that follows.

Oooh bubbles

When I’m all shiny and clean, Paul carries me from the bath to the bedroom where I fall asleep for a couple of hours. The whole thing just feels so exhausting now that that’s all I can manage that day.

I remember when I used to have a shower, shave my legs, and put make up on to go on a date with Paul. Now I can’t do any of those things on my own anymore. I can’t put a pretty little dress on, I’d resemble more of a hairy hippo with stretch marks than anything else. At the moment I can still manage to pluck my eyebrows, it might take me over an hour but I can still do it, I’m holding onto that. Not least, because Paul would not have the first idea about shaping eyebrows. I really hope one day we can afford for me to get my legs waxed and my eyebrows threaded by a beauty therapist, then I’d feel like I got some dignity back. I think I’d feel like a princess being beautified. I used to get my nails done when we could afford it and that made me feel a bit prettier.

I can’t even moisturise or put product in my hair after getting out of the bath anymore. My hair is becoming like straw. I remember the first time I couldn’t squeeze conditioner out of the bottle because it hurt too much, it felt like the most pathetic thing in the world. The idea of blow drying my hair is laughable, I still keep my hairdryer though, just in case one day…

Love Katie x

N.B. Paul has to carry me in the flat if I can’t shuffle along because the doorways are too narrow for me to use my wheelchair.

 



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