Almost Normal

First, let me say that I debated whether to blog about this. While there have been other activities and events that have impacted my life in the time since I started this blog, I've tried to be selective in which were actually blog-worthy. Meaning (more or less) that I've chosen to stick to those activities which are directly related to checking an item off the list, rather than things that just happened to occur in the year before I turned 30. Hence, why I have not nor do I intend to publish any work or romance related activities here. Sure, they happen, but they're not really a part of my Operation 30 journey.

After some debate I've convinced myself to share this personal topic based on the fact that this one has most definitely had an impact on my journey as I come into the homestretch on my Operation 30 adventure. So here goes...

FACT: Today was the first day in 2012 that I've worked out.

FACT: Yesterday was the first day since January 3rd that I've seen my actual ankles.

FACT: In the last two months I've been to the doctors' office more times than in the past three years combined. I've had blood drawn five times, three urine tests, a liver ultrasound, echocardiogram and chest x-ray. There was a trip to the ER in there somewhere, but that was over a month ago...

For those who know me (and are not among the less than a handful who know my situation already), the above is likely a bit surprising. I'm not the type of person who goes for two consecutive days without working out if I can avoid it, so a two month hiatus is beyond abnormal. I'm also not the type to go to the doctor unless I absolutely have to (thinking stubbornly that I have the mental and physical strength to tough things out and "get over it" most of the time). And oh - if you knew my deep hatred for needles, you'd know how each time I knew more blood would be drawn I'd cringe and think about what I could distract myself with on my phone so I didn't look at the needle for fear of passing out.

So - what was the deal? Much of December I had been feeling run down and sluggish. It didn't really seem major, as holiday parties were in full swing and things were generally busy. I chalked it up to the holiday season and me being a bit out of my routine. Then the holidays actually hit and I felt a bit worse...chills and fever most nights and achy joints. I felt like I had aged ten years in two weeks! So when I noticed how swollen my ankles were after returning to work following the New Year, I knew I had to see my doctor.

What followed was the parade of tests described above to try to pinpoint potential causes of the swelling and nightly fevers. Meanwhile my pain was increasing daily. I learned that if I took two Ibuprofen as soon as I started feeling the chills coming on (about 3:30pm), that I could somewhat control my fever symptoms. It didn't quite keep me from feeling achy and weak each night, but it helped. Unfortunately, I couldn't control the swelling and would get to the point most days when walking became an issue and I was moving with pain at about half speed - literally. Stairs were my enemy. I spent every weekend and free moment I could with my legs elevated. This new "normal" was excruciating, as I hardly had the strength to do normal, daily activities like fixing dinner and changing into my pajamas.

Luckily, my doctor was able to rule out a bacterial infection in time for my trip to Costa Rica and prescribed steroids to help with the pain and swelling. (I had begged him to make me feel better or I'd have to cancel my trip.) Thank goodness for Prednisone. Unfortunately, my symptoms returned almost as soon as my prescription ran out.

Although my doctor had ruled out a series of potential causes for my symptoms, I still had no diagnosis of what was going on and no prognosis of how I was going to get any better. That was early February and not at all how I had hoped to start 2012 and come into the homestretch of my Operation 30 list. I mean, I barely had the energy to get brush my teeth before bed each night! It was time to go to the rheumatologist.

Enter Dr. Lauter. One visit to his office and he told me he thought he knew the cause of my symptoms and could make me feel better. Of course, more tests had to be run to confirm for sure, but I would have let them draw blood 20 times if it meant I'd know what was wrong with me. Fast forward to today and I have a diagnosis and a plan to hopefully get my body back to "normal" in the short to medium term. Hooray!

What was the mystery issue? Lupus. Drug-Induced Lupus, that is. Dr. Lauter found that the Minocycline I'd been taking for mild acne the past five years had actually triggered this response by my immune system. (I couldn't believe it. This whole issue was in a way self-induced?!) Apparently I'm one of the rare percentage of people who react this way over time when exposed to the drug. Despite my anger in reflecting on my true need to take Minocycline, I was happy to at least have a definitive answer on what was causing my symptoms and how I might eventually get to feeling better.

So what now? I've obviously stopped taking the Minocycline and am on steroids again which has helped significantly to address my aches and pains while my immune system adjusts back to normal. (I still get a chuckle out of saying that I'm on 'roids. I feel like a shamed baseball star.) The swelling has gradually gone down, which has blissfully reunited me with my ankles. I had forgotten what they looked like! (In fact, now they look so thin that I'm wondering how much they've atrophied from lack of exercise!)

Check out the before and after...

Mid-January (Ew!) compared with today

Early February vs Today

So the fact of the matter is that aside from my trip to Costa Rica, 2012 has officially sucked so far having to deal with Lupus. (And for anyone who has to deal with this autoimmune disease on a regular basis, I empathize with you as I know what I've experienced is only a fraction of what those who suffer from the systemic disease actually have to go through.) What's been the worst for me is being low on energy and not feeling like myself. My wardrobe has suffered too as I haven't been able to wear skirts or high heels for two months!

It's hard to say what normal actually is for me anymore, but I'm optimistic that I'm on my way to the light at the end of the tunnel. (Yet another reason I felt like sharing this story.) Working out for the first time today was my first step in establishing my new normal. I know I'll have to ease my body back into things and that just because I can see my ankles doesn't mean that things are altogether normal. But I'm hopeful. Hopeful that I can get back to feeling like myself again sometime in the near future. For now I'll settle for a hiatus from needles versus exercise and regularly admiring the way my ankles look when not significantly inflamed.

Almost there. Almost normal.

And just in time for the last two months!