More Than the Sum of our Parts

Sometimes I like to think of my immune system as a totally souped up race car (with inflammation stripes down the side, of course). It burns out fast, but man it is impressive while it is going. Other times I think of it as complete bodily anarchy with my cells alternately giving up and staging mutiny complete with tiny torches and microscopic pitchforks. Have a vivid imagination. In either case, this stems from the knowledge that as Lupus sufferers, we are carrying around an internal conflict and for every one of us, it is different.

Results of a study about how we think of Lupus and why it matters were released in May. I downloaded the study and it made me want to contact Dr. Joan T. Merrill, the lead researcher, who as described as having  ” actively wrestling with complicated treatment decisions for patients with SLE in Oklahoma.” She is wrestling with it; which means she is really thinking about it and making decisions for each patient. Three cheers for engaged doctors and researchers. They are the ones to make all of the difference. The study comes to this rational, logical conclusion (if scientists come to conclusions, I am never sure on that):

“Not all patients who share a certain organ involvement are going to be optimally treated with the same medicine at the same dose.  Some may need a combination of treatments; others may not need so much.  A better understanding of those variables can be made, in part, by an improved classification of lupus. This would allow better results for more patients and avoid unnecessary toxic combination therapies for others. This is exactly where the field of lupus needs to go. Thinking of lupus as a subset of arthritis isn’t going to get us there. The time has come for a more rational approach to selection of therapy than treating lupus by the organ.

from: Nature Reviews Rheumatology, 11, 385–386, (2015) doi:10.1038/nrrheum.2015.61, Published online, 05 May 2015

We are all different and we all have to be treated that way–even when we have the same symptoms. Rather than treating our skin separately from our kidneys, and looking at our lungs in isolation from our hearts, the study suggests looking a whole patient. The single person in the blue paper robe on the table in front of each doctor. It is inefficient. It will mean research is slower-going, but the right thing to do is to treat the patient not the collection of symptoms. Having been called “the skin lesion in room six,” I am elated to be thought of as a whole person. This recommendation makes me happy from my head to my toes and everything in between.

If you are as interested in Dr. Merrill as I am, the Lupus Foundation has an audio interview with her here. She is their medical director!

Pancreas and Spleen Unremarkable: Knowing Yourself Inside and Out

Ladies and Gents—do you what it feels like when you know something is off?  You can’t put your finger on exactly what is going awry, but you know something (other than your normal lupus symptoms) just isn’t right? I have been feeling like that lately and not to sound like an armchair rheumatologist, but I think it is my thyroid.

I brought this up at a doctor’s appointment in early December and the doctor, who I was seeing while my normal doctor was out on maternity leave, completely dismissed me in favor of the numbers on my chart from the last few months. “Your thyroid function is within normal range” is what she said. “I am going to withhold any treatment on that.”

I pushed once and asked why I was having all of the symptoms of hypothyroidism if I was in normal range. She told me it was because of “the heavy-duty immunosuppressant drugs” I am on. And with that, I shut up. Not because she gave me an answer, but because she was completely wrong. I am not on any immunosuppressant drugs (save Plaquenil), let alone the heavy hitters that so many lupus sufferers rely on. I stopped talking because she revealed that she wasn’t listening–and even worse, she wasn’t informed.

If there is a single thing I have learned In The Lupus, it is that patients need to advocate for themselves. This might sound obvious, but when you are tired and sick and feel like you are getting less well by the minute, it is hard to do. It is hard to find your voice again once it has been dismissed by a physician. It is hard to confidently say: I know how my body reacts. It is hard to keep speaking up and fighting for another blood test, a new or different level of medication, or a bit of understanding. It is hard–but we still have to do it.

The Goal with Lupus is to TREAT-TO-TARGET. That means finding the best possible health we can be in and working towards it. And we can do that by following the overarching principles outlined in a new article in the Annals of the Rheumatic Diseases. The first principle in treating Lupus to target is:

The management of systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) should be based on shared decisions between the informed patient and her/his physician(s).

It is a team effort. I know my chart goes back far beyond what a doctor has in front of them, and my experience in this body goes back further still. It is a lot of information to digest. It is a lot of information to keep up with. But that is everyone’s job; patient and care provider. We have to work together to manage whatever my best health is. We all need to do the same.

So that is why I spent last night elbow deep in my medical records building a case history on a single symptom to bring to my doctor today, and lobby for some blood work and then related medication so that I can stop feeling so cold and hoarse, and start feeling alert, and warm, and on the upswing again. Somewhere in the stacks I found an ultrasound report that said: Pancreas and spleen unremarkable. That made laugh and think of all of the things I know about my own body. I know the exact size of my kidneys; I know that I have a tiny liver cyst. I have seen my heart waves on paper, my genes rearranged, and the innermost core of my own eyes in 3D. I have all of my records in order, researched the lab results, and made a list of questions. I was ready to talk with my doctor.

My appointment went well in a lot of ways. I was able to get my chart corrected. I was able to talk to my doctor about the symptoms I am experiencing and why they are concerning me. She ordered the blood work that could help unravel my current Lupus mystery (it is thyroid related, mark my words). But then everything went downhill.

When I thanked her and said: “as long as I have your memory here, I am ok, but if you ever leave, I am in a world of hurt.”

She said she was leaving the practice.

Now more than ever, I know that I have to manage my condition and promote my own health. What works for me is a doctor who will listen to me and determine a course of treatment with me–the patient and the soul living in this body–and the numbers on my chart. Because the numbers don’t have a voice and I do.

I hope you will advocate for your own health too. Know your triggers. Know your early symptoms of a flare. Know yourself and speak up. No one else will do that for you.

—-

PS: I am trying something new. Whenever I post about a doctor’s appointment, I am going to post the good, the bad and the ugly of the experience. For this one the good was: a medical student shadowing my doctor. I love getting to talk to med students about patient care and lupus. I also love that this student was shadowing my doctor, who I think of very highly. I also only had one vial of blood taken! The Bad: Waiting in a waiting room full of coughing and sneezing. The ugly: The pink paper robe.

What Does a Lupus Flare Feel Like?

Someone just asked what a Lupus Flare feels like and I answered:

 

It Feels Pretty Damn Bad.

 

Here is what the tiny print says:

Imagine having the flu and then falling down a flight of stairs. Now imagine that the medicine you are taking to feel better makes your heart race, head ache and your emotions rage. Now imagine your doctor can’t help you and some people don’t believe you don’t feel well. Now add the responsibilities of life, the frustration of limitations on what you want to do and the guilt of having to have everyone in your life make concessions for you. Lupus is the worst..

 

What does it feel like for you? Post a comment or follow on Facebook and talk to me there!

Keeping an Eye on Plaquenil

I really like my eyes. I don’t mean their shade or their shape, or their outstanding ability to bat eyelashes or convey emotion. I mean my actual eyes and their magnificent way of letting me experience the world. It’s because of this love that I am always a little extra concerned about taking Plaquenil to treat Lupus.

Plaquenil was the first and for a long time the only drug used to manage Lupus. As I understand it, it is what stands in the way of my condition progressing to more serious organ involvement. It is an important tool in the fight against Lupus, but using it does not come without risk. Over the course of time, Plaquenil can become toxic and damage the retina. If it is unmonitored, it can leave vision impaired, or even cause blindness.  I would like to keep my eyes functioning as long as possible. I am not sure what my quality of life would be like if I had, say,  a healthy liver and no eyesight. I would prefer not to find out.

photo

Jeepers Creepers, this is a mighty close look at my peepers.

Right after I was diagnosed, my (super fantastic) dermatologist sent me to the pharmacy to pick up Plaquenil and to an ophthalmologist for a visual field test. I was armed with a note for the ophthalmologist written on a prescription pad. It said: Ask her about her diagnosis story. Its good.

Within five minutes of handing that note over to the ophthalmologist, I learned that she too has Lupus. We did that thing that people with Lupus do when they meet: Do you have…?  Have you ever taken…?  What do you think about…? Right after that, I learned that she doesn’t take any medication to manage her condition. As soon as that left her mouth, she tried to grab it back. She even told me a cautionary tale about a woman she went to medical school with who also didn’t take any management drugs for Lupus and so she died at 30 (sidebar: I have a host of stories people have told me about Lupus over the years that can be summed up with: “it was awful and she died.” People are really thoughtful.). What her concern boiled down to was masking symptoms rather than treating the disease. However, dealing with symptoms is all we can do, at least for now.

Which brings me back to Plaquenil. Have you heard that there are new guidelines for dosing it?  I was surprised to learn that the dosage should be based on ideal weight for a person’s height—not their actual weight. For me, this means I am taking more than I should be taking according to the new dosing.  I am not sure about you, but prednisone, Plaquenil’s Lupus-treating bedfellow, can swing my weight tens of pounds before I can blink, so having dosages not tied to actual current weight is good news. It simplifies things; or at least it should, once I talk to my doctor about it.

You might be thinking: “Look, In The Lupus lady, you should just trust your doctor to dispense appropriate medication.”  If I heard you saying that, I would think that you either don’t have Lupus (or another tricky autoimmune disease), or you have one outstanding medical team.  Either way, good for you!  For the rest of us trudging through this achy maze, the need to share information on experiences and diagnosis and treatment. I offer up what I find to you (and your doctor) because part of having a disease that is a mystery is some responsibility to educate people—even our physicians.

Of course, once we learn something new, the first thing to do is to discuss with your rheumatologist before making any changes so you can make a plan. Part of that plan should be reminding our ophthalmologists that Plaquenil is toxic and should be monitored.

For your consideration, and discussion with your doctor, the new recommended dosage is no more than 6.5 mg/kg/day, using the standard known as “ideal weight,” which factors in height. For women, the ideal weight is 100 lbs for 5 feet, plus five lbs per extra inch of height. For men it is only slightly higher at 110 lbs for 5 feet, plus five lbs per extra inch of height. Currently, the average dose of Plaquenil is 200 mg. twice a day.

You can read the source documents about the new Plaquenil dosing guidelines for yourself by clicking here.

You can also see what other Lupus bloggers are saying about Plaquenil and vision here: One outstanding Lupus blogger tells all about her Electroretinography, or ERG. An advanced test that measures retinal changes and health. This is especially important for people on Plaquenil. In case you are squeamish, I will warn you in advance, there are pictures. Visit, Despite Lupus to read more.

When you’re done reading, get your vision tested by a specialist, talk to your doctor about the new dosing guidelines.

Be well.

In the Lupus

PS—in writing this blog post, I have taught my computer the word “Plaquenil.” Ugh.

Letting Life with Lupus Out of the Bag

Here I am, the face of people living life (and doing pretty well) with Lupus.

Here I am, the face of people living life (and doing pretty well) with Lupus.

Well folks, I told the whole world that I have Lupus today.

New Republic Magazine just posted an article that tells the story of how I was able to start my own business and live a healthy happy life because of Obama Care gave me the option of buying my own insurance coverage. Here is how it all unfolded…

In January, I wrote a letter to the President. It was mainly to thank him for pursuing the Affordable Care Act (ACA, or “Obama Care”) even though the fight was hard.

So, I sent my letter and a short time later, I was talking to the Deputy Press Secretary at the White House, and then, Jonathan Cohn from New Republic. Over a few weeks I told him about how Lupus impacts my life, and how having “Obama Care” options instead of using COBRA, I was saving hundreds of dollars a month on healthcare. And this is above and beyond the fact that I couldn’t even buy individual coverage before this law as passed because Lupus is a preexisting condition. I had a moment’s hesitation about being a part of this story, but I felt strongly about it, and I believe that we need to speak out when things matter.  So, I spoke.

The article by Jonathan Cohn,  “How Obamacare is Slashing those COBRA Premiums”, was posted to the New Republic website today.

I am feeling a bit vulnerable about this—I am a pretty private person–my friend Laurel always jokes that I feel vulnerable when someone asks me my middle name (note: I did not share my middle name here). I had a knot in my stomach that being a part of this story and sharing my illness with the world would be a career limiting decision, but I am hoping people get the message: there is no impact to my clients now, because they aren’t responsible for my healthcare coverage, and managing my own schedule (more or less) means I am, in fact, healthy.

Either way, I had to wave my flag and tell my story. The Affordable Care act gives me the flexibility to pursue the life I want. What is more American than that?

So, here is the letter I wrote to the President.

January 6, 2014

Dear Mr. President,

In 2008 I was diagnosed with the autoimmune disease, Lupus. It took five years of medical tests to get this diagnosis. It takes a team of doctors, several prescription drugs and constant vigilance on my part to remain healthy enough to get through days and embrace life. Before the Affordable Healthcare Act became law lupus disqualified me from getting healthcare coverage, unless it was through an employer. This letter is not about my illness—it is to say thank you to you for taking on healthcare and for continuing under fire to keep it from slipping away. When I called the HealthCare.gov 800 number the operator let me know my online application had been deleted from the system. She took fifteen minutes to walk me through the process again. It was that simple. When she offered me options for health coverage I chose one. The operator said I was “all set.” I was almost in tears when she clarified that I just needed to pay my premium I was covered. And at a level and premium I could afford.

In July I started my own business, and I was only able to do that because of the Affordable Healthcare Act. To make this happen I had to take a leap of faith; I had to pay for COBRA coverage from my last employer for six months and believe in the promise of “Obama Care.” This month, that leap paid off through the new healthcare plan I was able to find though the exchange and purchase through Kaiser Permanente. Until this point, Lupus disqualified me from getting healthcare coverage, unless it was through an employer. My new plan will provide better coverage and will save me $200 per month. Having it also gives me the peace of mind that my healthcare coverage follows me despite my chronic illness. It has freed me to start my own business that creates the lifestyle that keeps me healthy and working—and not disabled.

I take every opportunity to tell people in my life what the Affordable Health Care Law has done for me and to dispel any misconceptions. I think there needs to be more talk about the option of calling the healthcare.gov 800 number when the website is criticized. If there is a need to share a positive experience with the exchange and the law, please use my story any way that it can be helpful. I hope the depth of my thanks multiplied by the many lives that this law impacted will give you even more inspiration to carry on the work you are doing.

With Deep Respect & Profound Gratitude,

And you can click here to read the article at New Republic magazine.

I hope you are having a healthy, empowered day… and that you will leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Donielle

 

 

Stand Up for Yourself.

I don’t know what it is about me, but when I feel like the masses are being slighted, I feel compelled to take up their cause and fight. I call this my inner Norma Rae. Have you seen that movie from the late 70s? The one where Sally Field starts a revolution of the textile industry by standing up holding a big, bold sign that says “UNION” on it?

It was hard. It was unpopular. It causes trouble at home and at work. But it’s the right thing to do, so up she goes. Sign over her head. And that leads to a revolution. Or at least that is how it goes in the movies.

Standing up. We all have to do it.

Standing up. We all have to do it.

The last few days have been Norma Rae days for me. I am sure I didn’t start a revolution, but I am also sure that the doctor who got me so wound up will at least think of my face and hopefully my words the next time someone shows up swollen, aching, and desperate in the name of Lupus. I have heard of people having amazing relationships with their rheumatologists. The kind of doctors who head up collaborative care among doctors to get patients well and thriving. But hearing about it is where it ends for me. I have a stand out primary care doctor and the kind of dermatologist that you could trust your life to, but I have never had a rheumatologist to write home about. The one I started seeing recently though, simply takes the cake.

I started seeing my new rheumatologist a few months ago when I got a new health insurer. We didn’t totally hit it off, but it wasn’t too bad. She was stand offish and she made a sour face when I showed her the vasculitis on my arm, but I am sensitive about that, so I chalked it up to my thin skin (ha!). When I left her office that first day, she sent me for blood work. Fifteen vials of bloodwork that took four sticks, the last one in my hand (ouch) to get ahold of. I thought I was going to pass out from sheer exhaustion. After that, there was a host of small things (mis-dosed medication, another wasn’t available, I had a reaction to a new generic, and so on) that fell like disease dominos and landed me smack in the middle of a flare–the most painful one I have had to date.

I suffered for a few days before emailing my doctor. She put me on a TON of prednisone and said to keep in touch. I took the ton of prednisone and it was like a beast was unleashed. In addition to a racing heart, I was so dizzy I was losing my balance, I was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. AND I WAS A MEANIE. At the prompting of my poor, suffering boyfriend, I went back into see the doctor face to face.

This is where the UNION sign comes in.You see, I had already had low expectations for this doctor caring for me. But when she met my sick, sad self with a pile of pain pills, and “Well, that’s Lupus. Eventually the flare will be over and you’ll feel fine.” I kind of lost it. I asked her to consider that people are more than the sum of their symptoms and test results. I told her we weren’t working out (like we were dating or something), and I did all of this while hysterically crying. In my experience doctors aren’t huge fans of tears. They are a more tightly laced lot. My rheumatologist looked horrified, but all I could think to myself was, finally I am getting through to her.  I eventually pulled myself together enough to finish the visit and head down for more blood work. I wasn’t done though because all of that went badly too.

I just finished my follow up email to her (this is how she prefers to communicate) and it reads like a ranty break up letter. Whether or not she even reads the damn thing, I had to say it all. I had to say it for every person who ever has to sit in a phlebotomy lab and get told, “You are a slow bleeder. I am going to have to stick you again.” I had to say it for every person who has had to sit down to dry their hair because showering took just about all of their energy. I wanted to say it for every person who didn’t have the strength to say it for themselves. I had to say it for everyone who has Lupus. 

God save the world when my hands don’t hurt too much to type.

PS: From the “well ain’t that a kick in the head” files, I just found this article from a few years ago: Real ‘Norma Rae’ dies of cancer after insurer delayed treatment

“The North Carolina union organizer who was the inspiration for the movie “Norma Rae” died on Friday of brain cancer after a battle with her insurance company, which delayed her treatment.”
Health Insurance. That is another post for another day. 

3 Days Until the Steroids are Over & Life Can Begin Anew

They'll be back...but hopefully not too soon.

They’ll be back…but hopefully not too soon.

Plans! I had such PLANS! It was going to be great. This blog–in the Lupus.org–isn’t that a great name? I picked a theme and a look (and I was not quick about it) and I decided that it would be two things:

1. Honest about what it is like for me to live with Lupus.

2. In The Lupus.org will be what it sounds like–a place to stay in the loop about what is happening with in the world of Lupus–from research to fundraising and every single thing in between.

Unfortunately, before I could get it all together and– abracadabra–make it a great site, Lupus struck me down. Hard.