Monday, August 23, 2010

Irritable What Syndrome?

Since I have been home from the hospital my, uh um, bathroom habits have not quite returned to regular. The rest of this post is going to be about this topic, so if you don't care or don't want to know skip today and I will return to my version of normal, or at least less offensive, tomorrow. I am sure the IV narcotics they pushed me full of every 4 hours in the ICU acted as a nice "binder" in my system. Combine that with no food for those 3 days, the following week or so on Percocet for the headaches, a major reduction in my supplements and activity level, generally ignoring the whole thing during my steroid-pump-up-wild week when I was barely eating and then this last week of stuffing anything and everything in my face like a piggly-wiggly, and I have concocted a fantastic recipe that has brought on a bloated-constipated-gassy-nightmare that is but a slight reminder of when I was at my sickest with CFS and had Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

God that was awful! I was a slow-leaking-squealing-gas tank ready to explode! Luckily I was home alone most of my days on disability, my husband putting in 10 hours a day at work plus another 2 at the gym (I teased him it was the only way to get away from me!), and I was really glad for that. I was constantly bloated, my stomach huge with air, could barely take in a full breath, in pain after I would eat, generally felt awful, could not exercise and the smell, OHMYGOD the smell! Any activity or movement, which was very limited at that time, would cause noxious fumes to come rip-roaring out of me. I truly wondered how the hell I was ever going to be in the company of other people? I was scared to have sex with my husband and would wake myself up in the middle of the night surrounded by a gas-mask, lighting an incense because the smell blanketing my bedroom was making even me sick. I can only imagine why he still shared a bed with me! It was this constant and pervasive non-stop nightmare of disgustingness. Then I was finally diagnosed with yeast levels off the charts by the Fibromyalgia & Fatigue Center and started on Diflucan to address the candida overgrowth. The problem did not get better. I cleaned up my diet for the most part (I am the last person in the world to ever claim perfection). I cut out sugar, processed, refined & fried foods and white bread/pasta/wheat products. I started eating whole grains, lots of veggies, minimal amounts of dairy and food I had to cook for myself. Quinoa with yogurt-cheese, a salad with tuna and homemade balsamic-olive oil-garlic dressing comprised my daily diet (fabulous breath!). I would buy sprouted bread as dense as a rock and munch on it like a cow chew chew chewing hay. I became aware of a silent killer, the typical American diet, and its best-friend, High Fructose Corn Syrup. I learned how to eat properly, watch for it and avoid it like the plague! I ate lots of yogurt and started taking acidophilus pills. After a few months the F & F Center determined my strain of yeast was resistant to Diflucan. I had taken it too many times through the years to combat re-occurring, pervasive yeast infections (pre-cursor symptom?) and it was powerless against the chains of candida braided deep around my system.

I was switched to Ketaconazole and started to get better, something I was quite grateful for! Then I was put on long-term anti-biotics for bacterial infections that were but 1 source of the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, so here comes another round of Diflucan to keep the yeast at bay. Eventually I was able to get the problem under control and now only have periodic bouts of bloating and gas surrounding Fibromyalgia-flares and bad diet choices. The reality of worrying constantly about what to do in public if I felt that pressure in my stomach mounting; hold it and bring on a horrible bout of bloating and pain that could last for days or risk death from embarrassment, became a distant memory. I moved on to many other levels of healing, grateful to leave this one behind, never to be spoken of again, until now.

But here I sit today...with a mild yet still totally intrusive version of my former problem sneaking up on me, and its bringing back all that disgusting frustration from before. I have started taking Benefiber twice a day, drinking Smooth Move laxative tea every night and am still on those acidophilus pills. Yet it is like the second I don't feel pain or pressure I eat greasy food, no vegetables and sugar, lots and lots of sugar, like I have the right. And then the symptoms start all over again...oh I need some self control! So my promise to myself this week is to exercise prudence! We stocked the fridge with good, wholesome food (if totally labor intensive since everything has to be made) and since I am without a paycheck have no money to eat out. The babies and I started our morning with the usual long walk I had abandoned once summer and strokes hit, and I doused my granola in so much yogurt the creamy far outweighed the crunch. I was loosing weight when I came home from the hospital, the silver lining of a dark foreboding rain cloud, and running around on a steroid high, avoiding food with frenzied activity until that darn headache scare last weekend. Then I medicated the energy away all last week to avoid the manic that caused it in the first place, accepting complacency and self-indulgence as my way of cheering myself up. So this week I will find my Flexeril during the day (I am getting too used to that drugged up feeling), maybe some Xanax at night (sleep is too important to screw with) but no bad food, giving in to impulses or lazy complacency. School starts next week, I have to find a new job soon and I am going to loose weight during this phase if it is the last thing I do. Damn it!

Thanks for joining,

No comments:

Post a Comment