Fall of a Titan

How long do you wait when you’re status isn’t improving?

Midway through my junior year of high school I was being home schooled and was completely bedridden after a diagnosis of POTS. My days consisted of waking up with deep pains all over my body with no energy to even drag myself out of bed. By the time I made it to the bathroom and back I was completely out of breath. I would collapse in bed and wait the day out. Time seemed to not exist. My mind was completely blocked with brain fog and any attempt at doing anything just wouldn’t work. I couldn’t read for my mind jumbled the letters and exhausted itself within minutes. I couldn’t talk because the stutter was so bad. The very thought of opening my mouth caused such immense pain. On some days I would strictly text to communicate with my mother since the slight movement of my fingers was less painful than actually opening my mouth.

The fatigue was all-encompassing and most of the time I needed the assistance of my mother to get around the house, most of the time leaving me with no choice. I mastered what I called the “zombie walk”, when forced to get up I would drag my legs and walk with my arms and back hunched over. In a sense I looked like a zombie walking around the house, which could come in handy if I needed to blend in during the apocalypse. For me this was the best I could do, my energy levels were just not there. Then to mention the actual process of changing positions, once I got some place I liked to stay there for a while because getting up was going to just absolutely be miserable. My eyes would “change” and my mother would hold on to me for a good 5 minutes. I felt pathetic. I felt weak.

My entire life I was raised to be strong, to be independent and rely on no one. And here I was not even able to get out of bed by myself. On plenty of occasions my mother would find me in bed broken out in such a cold sweat unable to move that my then step-father would pick me up and plop me in the car to then go to the hospital. For those of you suffering with the POTS diagnosis you know how much fun the hospital trips are. When I would go to the hospital the doctors would shake their heads and find nothing really wrong, so all you get is hydrated and sent home. For me personally I struggled with severe chest pain and the inability to breathe, which had me going to the hospital frequently. But upon arrival my vitals were fine and the doctors just didn’t care. When I described symptoms that were considered heart attack symptoms I would be practically laughed at and told I was far too young to actually have a heart attack. And throughout all the extreme flare ups I was never admitted to the hospital, well with clear vitals why would they? And back in the day doctors had no idea what POTS even was which made hospital trips even more pointless.

Each and every day I slept, sleeping was all I could do. I would dream of a life where I was actually living. Waking up with my reality was a nightmare all itself. Since I was unable to move much my doctor put me on medication to keep my muscle retention and keep my body from creating bed sores. From there we tried medications for energy, all serious controlled substances that all had the adverse effects on me. I tried Adderall and Ritalin, both made me so exhausted and in so much pain that we stopped immediately. The doctor was stumped since he never heard of those medications having that effect. I tried every supplement in the book, all with no success. My life consisted of staying in bed and sleeping my life away. I felt like I was hibernating and some day I could return to the land of the living.

sleeping titan

After a year of suffering with POTS my stomach started having issues again. This time I felt like I had a rock in my gut every time I tried to eat. So the combination of not eating, not being able to move much, and everything else made my migraines start to flare horribly. When we called the doctor treating my POTS he suggested I get tested for gastroparesis. The two tests to check for this was an endoscopy and a stomach emptying test. The endoscopy was scary since I did have to be put under, but it came back clear so we proceeded to the emptying test. This test was pain free but did require me to eat radioactive eggs, so that’s always interesting. The results told a clear story of how my stomach would not empty properly and the diagnosis of gastroparesis was given. When on average it takes a person to digest a meal maybe 2 to 4 hours, it took mine 8 hours. Again I was happy, another question answered! But there was at the time no FDA approved medication for treatment.

My body was failing and there was nothing I could do. I went through hell as a child and came out stronger, but this diagnosis knocked me down and took my life. I was unable to be like everyone else. I was unable to feel like a person. I was alive, but I was nowhere close to living.

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