Is your brain a hottie or a nottie? Unlike most people, I have the answer to this vexing question.
I returned triumphantly this week to vestibular therapy. I'm in a whole different place now than I was when I left six months ago. (Has it been that long??) Now I'm settled into my diagnosis as a migraineuse with POTS, and I really think the Cymbalta situation has finally hit its stride. What I didn't know when I left vestibular therapy back in early December was that the neurological god had written a letter to my beloved Vince (vestibular therapist), explaining why I had to stop coming to see him so abruptly: "She has a very hot brain," he explained.
What does it mean to have a hot brain, you ask? Well, I gather it means something like "inflamed" or "hyper-reactive" or "on high alert." Thus innocent sensory inputs such as slightly unfamiliar shoes were overwhelming my balance systems with information overload. And even a single daily cup of black tea, tablespoon of peanut butter, and half-ounce infusions of chocolate were putting me in a permanent state of endless migraine dizziness. No wonder my life sucked so royal!
Now the Cymbalta seems to have entered a new phase. It's taken a month to settle into the new dose, but I feel as of the last few days that the fog I've been floating around in is finally lifting. And more so, I'm starting to feel that the drug is really making a huge improvement in all facets of this weird ailment.
I found this on the POTS page in wikipedia:
Antidepressants, especially selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs) such as Prozac, Zoloft, Celexa, Lexapro, and Paxil, can be extremely effective in re-regulating the autonomic nervous system and raising blood pressure. Some studies indicate that serotonin-norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors (SNRIs) such as Effexor and Cymbalta are even more effective.
But not only is it re-regulating my autonomic nervous system (the part of your brain that controls all your background functions) AND raising my blood pressure, it's also balming those sizzling nerve endings in my brain such that I can tolerate a slight cheat on the migraine diet. Exhibit A is that this week I finally cracked and had some carrot cake– although it was all natural and pure as the driven snow used to be, the bad list items included pineapple, walnuts, and a few stray raisins. I snarfed it down and waited for my punishment. Nothing! I got off scot free! This really cheered me up a great deal. Also, I must say that I feel sort of like I'm functioning almost normally in other ways– not keeling over midday into a hopeless stupor, for instance.
When I walked in to Vince's office the other day he said, "You look great! You really look so HEALTHY!" This surprised me to hear, as I've been feeling that the six-month exercise ban has taken a toll on me and then some. But I said that while my blood pressure still drops at times, the Cymbalta seems to put a more reasonable floor on it. "You must have been really fighting that all the time," VInce said. "It really must have been taking a lot out of you." Yes, and now that it's not like that… how much easier everything is!
Our hope is that Vince can put the kaibash on all these headaches that have been such a hassle lately, quell the arm-shoulder ache, figure out why I wake up with numb hands, and finally bridge the gulf between my decrepit existence now and the Pilates and yoga studio gym rat I would like to be. Much of this project is about my neck. Apparently my long neck and wobbly joints are not a good combination with muscle weakness and various nerves are getting mashed or messed with in there. Within about ten minutes Vince was able to reduce my headache. He gave me one neck stretch to do for the arm/shoulder ache (apparently nothing to do with my actual shoulder, but referred pain from my neck), and another one to do when a headache seems to be coming on. Guess what? Totally worked!! I've been headache free since I saw him on Tuesday!
Also he's helping me to begin exercising again– under the close scrutiny of people who know a lot about POTS and how it works. He agreed with me that the cardiologist's exercise ban was nigh unto a death sentence and totally unworkable. He said lots of doctors, my neuro included, think the exercise actually really can help with POTS. But you've got to be careful– so on Tuesday I rode the stationary recumbent bike for six minutes– with two people standing there and watching me intently. Today I was there again, and while I only had one person watching me, I was only allowed to ride it four minutes. (I did get light-headed with the six, so they scaled it back.)
I sense this is going to be sort of a long slow process.
The good news is that I didn't lose all my muscle strength in the intervening months. Apparently doing things like lifting a 32-pound sleeping child and carrying him and two backpacks into school helps maintain my upper body strength. My personal stubbornness has also been an asset. I've simply refused to throw in the towel and devote myself to being a full-time sick person while someone else does all my work. "The way you live your life is really helping you," Vince said.
This brings me to the garden project Ben and I have embarked on. It's really seeming quite epic– fencing in a 30×55 plot with cedar posts and entrenched 1×2 inch welded wire. Ben rented some serious equipment last weekend and wallowed around in the mud struggling with it, while I rather helplessly provided moral support, refreshments, and light errand-running. Ben's dad gallantly came up and helped a bit also. After a long and exhausting day with this project, Ben and I were sitting at dinner and I tried to explain to him why I want and need to do this despite my obvious infirmities. I told him that the garden is a monument to good old American optimism. It's a gesture of hope– I WILL be well enough this summer to be out there gardening. The kids and I will grow things and stir compost and watch bugs and learn where food comes from. This is our summer project. I can't set the whole plan aside in anticipation of being sick– can't and won't. I plan to be well. If I do end up too sick to do anything, and it becomes a sad jungle of weeds, okay. So be it. But I won't approach this summer with that in mind. The plan is to be hale and hearty. Ben understands this and bless him– he's really working his tail off to help me.
I'll post some pictures. It really will be wonderful. Spring has sprung and I am on the mend.