Tag Archives: thyroid

Oct 21 2014
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Symptoms and Treatment

MS Never Sleeps

knackeredThere was me, down to no afternoon sleep, dropping off to Loose Women, no slumping over books.

I had ENERGY, the MS currency of choice.

Yup, it had to end, and boy, it did.

On the one hand, the pesky thyroid was a gift from above.

I had an obscene abundance of energy. I am ashamed to admit I cleaned round my taps with dental floss and vacuumed my house to within an inch of its life. Dust was banished.

On the other, I ended up in hospital. On Sunday, my mum took one look at me and called a taxi, ‘um my daughter can’t stop moving and shaking, no it’s not drugs, um, apart from Amantadine, but no, it’s not speed, and she won’t throw up in the cab’.

So I spent the next five hours staring at a lovely man who had no idea where he was. I cried. He was wheeled away and I stayed in limbo, with a cannula in my hand and a difficulty talking to the Doctors children who were looking after me. Plus I had an ID band around my wrist. In case I forgot who I was.

They wanted me to stay in overnight but as much as I was tempted by the gruel they serve for breakfast, I demurred. I had to get home. A nurse gave me beta blockers. Sigh. Divine. The trembling stopped and I could breathe again.

At 1.30am, I went back home and sank into my bed. Today, I had an appointment with the GP. Thyroid meds – These will help, but if you get an infection, you have to get a blood test straight away.EVEN if it’s the weekend. Meh.

I was quite happy, just checking in twice a year with the MS team. Now I have to see an endocrinologist, have more blood tests, see the GP on a fortnightly basis. But if it’s the same endocrinologist as before, I’m looking forward to hearing his Italian dulcet tones.

There has to be some recompense, no?

p.s. I had to miss book club too…

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Oct 17 2014
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Symptoms and Treatment

Boing Boing

boingAn abundance of energy is an elusive pipe dream for someone with MS. A month or so ago, I would have traded my cat’s soul for just a pinch of the wonder stuff (sorry, Dora).

I should be more careful what I wish for. My thyroid has decided to go bonkers, a result of the Alemtuzumab treatment and I am bouncing off the walls like a demented bouncy ball.

I’m averaging around 4 hours of sleep a night, and most of that is disturbed, as I lie there counting the spiders on the ceiling.

However, always one to look on the bright side, I am squealing with unadulterated pleasure at being able to fit into my skinny jeans, once relegated to a dark cupboard, stained with tears. The weight loss is nothing short of a miracle and before I start the thyroid medicine, I am savouring every moment. I can’t pass a mirror or shiny surface without pausing and turning this way and that, buzzing with delight.

I have lost my appetite. No, really! I pass on the donuts, the Wotsits and even my beloved bacon butties and instead nibble on toast or Brazil nuts.

Another upside is stamina when it comes to the Masters. My third attempt at flash fiction was fabulous (IMHO). The words flowed, no editing necessary. At 3am I emailed it over to my tutor, sat back with a sigh and caught up with Jerry Springer. I am speeding through my research books for my first essay, post-it notes flying, fluorescent pen whizzing along the pages. I am a demon. I can’t keep up with myself.

The house is sparkling and my cordless vacuum is on constant recharge, just like me. I concoct marvelous meals, ready for The Teenager to diss and put to one side before he whips out a Domino’s menu and a sad face.

I can’t keep still, my legs tremble and jig endlessly. I bump in to walls, trip down the stairs and am nurturing an impressive collection of bruises.

It won’t last. It can’t. I am burning out, ready for the inevitable crash. I am scared of going back to the bad old days when I sleep in the afternoon and nod off during Downton Abbey.

I go back to the doctor on Tuesday when she will put a stop to my fun with meds. The clock starts now and in no time at all, I will be waiting for the sad ping of ready meals and ignoring the dust. Until then, I will handcraft some candles for Christmas presents, paint the walls and clean the taps with a toothpick. And dust the lampshades, organise my food cupboards, carve a pumpkin, re-pot my plants……before it’s too late.

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Sep 15 2013
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Symptoms and Treatment

What Are The Chances?

scratchcardIt’s never going to be good news when your MS nurse phones up out of the blue and says, ‘can you talk?’

To cut a long, uncertain story short, it seems I may, just may, have developed thyroid problems since taking Campath.

It’s treatable, I’m not too worried and as always, the MS nurse was calm and reassuring. I took the risk, I knew the chances – a 10-30% possibility with Campath, and I have no regrets having had the opportunity to take it. It has given me my life back.

What’s frustrating is that I was pretty much signed off by my neurologist until next February and was finally beginning to put the uncertainty of living with MS behind me. Now there’s another round of blood tests on top of the monthly Campath one and I’ll have an appointment with yet another consultant, an endocrinologist this time. And what’s really, really annoying, is that I seem to have come up with the dodgy odds again.

Apparently there’s a 1 in 750 chance of developing MS in the first place. Not too bad. If you have a parent with MS as I did, there’s around a 1 in 100 chance. That’ll be me then. And now with the thyroid odds, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m ever so slightly jinxed.

On the flip side, I’m grateful a potential problem has been picked up so early, and at least I’m already learning to live with some of the symptoms as they’re remarkably similar to MS – fatigue, hand tremors, heat intolerance. I’m wondering though, if you have both MS and thyroid problems, does that mean you get twice the amount of fatigue? And hand tremors? I’m only asking as I’m beyond shattered right now and I broke my second-last glass a couple of days ago. I have now reluctantly invested in plastic ones. Still drop the blasted things though, but at least they bounce.

Anyway, with the odds stacked in my favour, I’m toying with the idea of taking up scratch cards as a hobby. Or bingo?

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