The third "unknown" pratfall of salad dressings is mostly but not exclusively a danger of Ranch dressing, including the "original" by Hidden Valley. Almost all varieties of Ranch dressing include MSG.
MSG stands for Mono Sodium Glutamate. The average person can think this is a danger exclusive to Chinese food; that is far from the truth. Breaking down the name Mono Sodium Glutamate can leave us with a rough translation as "One Salt Sugar compound." "Glutamate" shares roots with glucose. This is a chemical compound of intense salt and sugar. I’ve seen MSG sold as a spice. It’s a white powder that makes food more "American" by adding both salt and sugar in forms that do not have to be specifically listed in ingredients. Despite the fact that MSG induces headaches in many people, the FDA does not require the ingredient to be bold in the contents list as true allergen foods must be.
I actually have a pretty good diet, blood sugar levels aside. I am one of those who discovered my problem with MSG by the resulting headache.
Any Asian restaurant that states "no added MSG" is telling you that their food has MSG from the vendor. American Chinese food is actually much sweeter than true native cuisine. Many restaurants no longer use MSG, but it is safer to always ask. I found that most hold outs of MSG use are kiosks of Asian food in malls rather than true sit down restaurants.
Unfortunately, MSG is much more common than that. Here’s a partial lost of things I discovered through the illness derived from having eaten the wrong thing.
The Ranch dressing sold in the produce section of better super markets is the only Ranch I have found without MSG.
Regular Kraft dinner does not contain MSG. Kids’ varieties, even by Kraft, do have the compound. Most generic and lesser brands also contain MSG.
Most chip dips contain MSG.
Seemingly all Hillshire Farms sausage products contain MSG.
Cheese doodles, whether puffy or friend, contain MSG.
Spreadable cheeses are more likely than not to have MSG.
While more vendors and manufacturers are making the switch away from SG, it is better to assume that most soups and broth, particularly chicken varieties, contain MSG. It seems most prevalent with chicken varieties, and companies such as Progresso are labeling the changed formulas with prominent "no MSG" labels. Broth and bullion needs to be specifically checked before use.
Most dry soups including Cup o’Noodles and Ramen are huge MSG sources.
Convenient pasta pouches such as "Pasta Sides" and Hamburger Helper contain MSG.
Crackers, popcorn and snack chips in cheese flavors are likely to contain MG. Labels need to be read carefully. Check non-cheese varieties on any brand or line that you discover MSG in the cheese flavors.
MSG headaches are crippling to those prone to them. If you discover you’ve eaten something with MSG, I advise preventative aspirin as soon as possible and to intake as much water as possible to prevent the salt from dehydrating you.
Showing posts with label Blood Pressure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blood Pressure. Show all posts
Friday, November 16, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Feeling it Out: Mid Life
My experience of watching other men deal with their mid life crises had provided me experience than just with my father, who is the type who would probably deny ever having had a mid life crisis. Fathers, bosses, mentors...most ruined things for themselves in one way or another. I sought to avoid that.
I had that "what to do and how to get there" life crisis early, at high school rather than college age. It’s no surprise my mid life crisis came at 36 rather than in my 40’s. It was mild. I developed an uncharacteristic infatuation that I could not make develop. I regretted having little financial savings. I listened to other people who told me I should be taking care of myself better health-wise.
At 43, I am still shunned by the former object of my affections. My main means of savings is still home ownership and equity–always iffy in this economy. And now I am not only disabled but feel like crap.
My diet had never been bad. The sole dietary change I made was switching from real sugar to Equal in my morning coffee. I had developed the sugar habit to boost my sugar in the days when I could not actually afford to eat anything for breakfast. That had changed. The other significant change when I started "taking care of myself better" was following my GP’s guidelines of taking a much higher insulin dose at night. It made sense to me as I knew by feel that overnights were the main time I sugar would rise to uncomfortable levels.
My sugars did lower, although never to the A1C numbers my doctor wanted to see. I was no longer getting up in the night to go pee. Instead, I was not able to sleep because the sugar levels felt too low. Too high, and I don’t get good sleep because I’m off to the bathroom a few times each night. Too low, I just can’t actually fall asleep.
I still seldom find that right balance.
This past spring and summer, I made a renewed effort to get my sugars lower, no matter how I felt. The inflamed Charcot foot had further impeded my circulation enough to cause the quick and massive infection that almost cost me a toe. The night of that hospital admittance also emphasized one particular problem food that raises sugars beyond expectations. (Low fat milk, which I will address in detail before long.) I succeeded, and am feeling so much worse for it.
Here’s how the diabetic things feel these days.
My blood pressure went back to normal levels when the Charcot inflammation subsided. The reduced swelling is probably more of a by product of the prednisone I still must drop into my eye than true healing. The foot is stable, but the Crow boot is a permanent fixture due to the ankle collapse suffered from the reduced circulation. I have frequent vertigo issues, which is probably a combination of the eye maladies and reaction to blood pressure medication meant for a worse situation than I am now in. Any of the four to five eye drop medications may also play into the vertigo.
My eye is a mess and my vision is getting worse. The strobing light exams contribute to this. The eye drops reduce vision at least temporarily when taken. Debris may be built up in the silicone oil that still remains in my eye. Light sensitivity is still blinding, darkness vision is non-existent, and the "retinapathy veil" grows darker. On doctor’s instructions, I had stopped the eye pressure drops when the pressure was good, and it re-rose to scary levels, so those drops are to be continued indefinitely. The prednisone still gives stomach problems, but not as severe as they were last winter.
Long story short, I’m the mess I had sought to avoid ever becoming after re-examining life in middle age. Maybe that "male menopause" just can’t be avoided.
I had that "what to do and how to get there" life crisis early, at high school rather than college age. It’s no surprise my mid life crisis came at 36 rather than in my 40’s. It was mild. I developed an uncharacteristic infatuation that I could not make develop. I regretted having little financial savings. I listened to other people who told me I should be taking care of myself better health-wise.
At 43, I am still shunned by the former object of my affections. My main means of savings is still home ownership and equity–always iffy in this economy. And now I am not only disabled but feel like crap.
My diet had never been bad. The sole dietary change I made was switching from real sugar to Equal in my morning coffee. I had developed the sugar habit to boost my sugar in the days when I could not actually afford to eat anything for breakfast. That had changed. The other significant change when I started "taking care of myself better" was following my GP’s guidelines of taking a much higher insulin dose at night. It made sense to me as I knew by feel that overnights were the main time I sugar would rise to uncomfortable levels.
My sugars did lower, although never to the A1C numbers my doctor wanted to see. I was no longer getting up in the night to go pee. Instead, I was not able to sleep because the sugar levels felt too low. Too high, and I don’t get good sleep because I’m off to the bathroom a few times each night. Too low, I just can’t actually fall asleep.
I still seldom find that right balance.
This past spring and summer, I made a renewed effort to get my sugars lower, no matter how I felt. The inflamed Charcot foot had further impeded my circulation enough to cause the quick and massive infection that almost cost me a toe. The night of that hospital admittance also emphasized one particular problem food that raises sugars beyond expectations. (Low fat milk, which I will address in detail before long.) I succeeded, and am feeling so much worse for it.
Here’s how the diabetic things feel these days.
My blood pressure went back to normal levels when the Charcot inflammation subsided. The reduced swelling is probably more of a by product of the prednisone I still must drop into my eye than true healing. The foot is stable, but the Crow boot is a permanent fixture due to the ankle collapse suffered from the reduced circulation. I have frequent vertigo issues, which is probably a combination of the eye maladies and reaction to blood pressure medication meant for a worse situation than I am now in. Any of the four to five eye drop medications may also play into the vertigo.
My eye is a mess and my vision is getting worse. The strobing light exams contribute to this. The eye drops reduce vision at least temporarily when taken. Debris may be built up in the silicone oil that still remains in my eye. Light sensitivity is still blinding, darkness vision is non-existent, and the "retinapathy veil" grows darker. On doctor’s instructions, I had stopped the eye pressure drops when the pressure was good, and it re-rose to scary levels, so those drops are to be continued indefinitely. The prednisone still gives stomach problems, but not as severe as they were last winter.
Long story short, I’m the mess I had sought to avoid ever becoming after re-examining life in middle age. Maybe that "male menopause" just can’t be avoided.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Kidney Pie
Kidney disease as part and parcel of the entire nightmare of diabetes is easy to understand with a little knowledge of how kidneys work. In essence, they are filled with blood vessels.
Learning that simple fact also tied the connection between blood pressure and kidneys in my brain. I had not been able to grasp the logic of the kidney-blood pressure correlations even asking questions of doctors. I knew that blood pressure medications are usually also beneficial to kidney health.
The tiny blood vessels within the kidneys act as the actual filters for waste products in the blood. The kidneys expel the waste through urine.
Those facts make a lot of the diabetes connections self evident to me.
The primary symptom of high blood sugar in diabetes is severe thirst and frequent urination. The kidneys sense too much waste sugar and make you thirsty to give them the fluid they need to expel the waste at peak efficiency.
Constant high blood sugar damages blood vessels. This damage is most apparent in retinapathy and circulation. Kidneys follow closely behind these problems. Knowing that the blood vessels in the kidneys are tiny makes it quite understandable that they can be damaged easily.
High blood sugars thicken the blood. The thicker blood passes less easily, especially through smaller vessels. Like Coca-Cola that was wiped but not washed from a surface, the blood becomes sticky, and this further reduces the blood’s ability to pass freely. The smaller vessels and passageways clog. Weaker blood vessels can break, restricted vessels can increase blood pressure, and smaller vessels will clog or reduce circulation, which deprives body parts of needed oxygen.
Constant high blood sugar overworks the kidneys on a regular basis and thus can hasten damage just by effectively wearing out the kidneys with overwork. The waste products that the kidneys remove from the blood slide through "filter holes" in the kidney. The waste stays molecularly smaller than protein and healthy blood cells. Overwork of the kidneys essentially enlarges the holes over time and allows good protein molecules to pass into the urine.
The lab test for kidney function and performance is usually a simple test. The lab checks for amounts of protein in the urine. The kidneys are supposed to filter waste but retain protein. The presence of protein in the urine indicates a problem. This really is the best way to determine kidney problem at a stage where further development of the problem can be kept in check.
Other "early symptoms" of kidney disease are vague and overlaps with too many other potential problems with the body. The overlap is also high with other symptoms that diabetics may feel on a daily basis without kidney problems. These general symptoms include fatigue, poor appetite, poor concentration, insomnia or other sleeping difficulties, general weakness, and upset stomach.
The best preventative maintenance for kidneys is to drink a lot of water regularly, not just when your body says it’s thirsty.
Learning that simple fact also tied the connection between blood pressure and kidneys in my brain. I had not been able to grasp the logic of the kidney-blood pressure correlations even asking questions of doctors. I knew that blood pressure medications are usually also beneficial to kidney health.
The tiny blood vessels within the kidneys act as the actual filters for waste products in the blood. The kidneys expel the waste through urine.
Those facts make a lot of the diabetes connections self evident to me.
The primary symptom of high blood sugar in diabetes is severe thirst and frequent urination. The kidneys sense too much waste sugar and make you thirsty to give them the fluid they need to expel the waste at peak efficiency.
Constant high blood sugar damages blood vessels. This damage is most apparent in retinapathy and circulation. Kidneys follow closely behind these problems. Knowing that the blood vessels in the kidneys are tiny makes it quite understandable that they can be damaged easily.
High blood sugars thicken the blood. The thicker blood passes less easily, especially through smaller vessels. Like Coca-Cola that was wiped but not washed from a surface, the blood becomes sticky, and this further reduces the blood’s ability to pass freely. The smaller vessels and passageways clog. Weaker blood vessels can break, restricted vessels can increase blood pressure, and smaller vessels will clog or reduce circulation, which deprives body parts of needed oxygen.
Constant high blood sugar overworks the kidneys on a regular basis and thus can hasten damage just by effectively wearing out the kidneys with overwork. The waste products that the kidneys remove from the blood slide through "filter holes" in the kidney. The waste stays molecularly smaller than protein and healthy blood cells. Overwork of the kidneys essentially enlarges the holes over time and allows good protein molecules to pass into the urine.
The lab test for kidney function and performance is usually a simple test. The lab checks for amounts of protein in the urine. The kidneys are supposed to filter waste but retain protein. The presence of protein in the urine indicates a problem. This really is the best way to determine kidney problem at a stage where further development of the problem can be kept in check.
Other "early symptoms" of kidney disease are vague and overlaps with too many other potential problems with the body. The overlap is also high with other symptoms that diabetics may feel on a daily basis without kidney problems. These general symptoms include fatigue, poor appetite, poor concentration, insomnia or other sleeping difficulties, general weakness, and upset stomach.
The best preventative maintenance for kidneys is to drink a lot of water regularly, not just when your body says it’s thirsty.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Monday Monday, can't trust that day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
I will admit to the possibility that I was in difficult mode by then. I try to come across as easy going, but that’s an act I cannot usually maintain for long. This blind guy tends to look for problems once he has seen problems. Sturdy’s staff had provided many to be seen.
First problem: the 4 AM wake up to be poked and prodded. Neither my roommate nor I could get back to sleep that morning. The man-baby was screaming again in his drama queen way, a voice of protest that carried not a hint of actual pain. My routine of calling out belittle commands to "man up, you wimp!" shut him up to the amusement of the nurses and my roommate.
The 4-in-the-f’n-morning wake up demanded of sick, recuperating and in need of rest people became more of an issue when one of the nurse types let it slip that we were woken so the staff could take the end of shift patient vitals. The shift ends at seven.
When questioned about "end of sift," the worker said they don’t have time to do it in the last hour. I asked by what stretch of the imagination could something be considered at the "end" if it did not even fall in the last 25%. She held on to her time constraint excuse and I went into calmly sarcastic conjecture of ill patients prescribed enforced bed rest then woken up at four AM for something by her own admission should be being done at six; that I could hear the staff hanging around the desk idly talking for the last half hour of each shift; and that if she got bedridden with illness I sincerely hoped she would see more consideration at whatever facility she ended up.
I am not a morning person.
In between the wake up and the conversation about shift ending, one of the nurse types emptied the portable urinal from the window sill, again did not rinse it and replaced it to the tray table. My reaction was immediate: "What is wrong with you?!" She did not see the problem, because she had put it where you can find it." I resisted telling her exactly where she could put it in favor of pointing out that if I left it on the window sill I could find the window sill, she did not rinse the bottle, and that I eat off of that table. She began to withdraw, but I loudly insisted that the table be thoroughly cleaned. I suppose that helped make me a difficult patient.
I was not inclined to get better when I heard the big reveal to my roommate: his doctor–who was not the self-worshiped deity named Paz–suspected the nature of his throat infection....
I will admit to the possibility that I was in difficult mode by then. I try to come across as easy going, but that’s an act I cannot usually maintain for long. This blind guy tends to look for problems once he has seen problems. Sturdy’s staff had provided many to be seen.
First problem: the 4 AM wake up to be poked and prodded. Neither my roommate nor I could get back to sleep that morning. The man-baby was screaming again in his drama queen way, a voice of protest that carried not a hint of actual pain. My routine of calling out belittle commands to "man up, you wimp!" shut him up to the amusement of the nurses and my roommate.
The 4-in-the-f’n-morning wake up demanded of sick, recuperating and in need of rest people became more of an issue when one of the nurse types let it slip that we were woken so the staff could take the end of shift patient vitals. The shift ends at seven.
When questioned about "end of sift," the worker said they don’t have time to do it in the last hour. I asked by what stretch of the imagination could something be considered at the "end" if it did not even fall in the last 25%. She held on to her time constraint excuse and I went into calmly sarcastic conjecture of ill patients prescribed enforced bed rest then woken up at four AM for something by her own admission should be being done at six; that I could hear the staff hanging around the desk idly talking for the last half hour of each shift; and that if she got bedridden with illness I sincerely hoped she would see more consideration at whatever facility she ended up.
I am not a morning person.
In between the wake up and the conversation about shift ending, one of the nurse types emptied the portable urinal from the window sill, again did not rinse it and replaced it to the tray table. My reaction was immediate: "What is wrong with you?!" She did not see the problem, because she had put it where you can find it." I resisted telling her exactly where she could put it in favor of pointing out that if I left it on the window sill I could find the window sill, she did not rinse the bottle, and that I eat off of that table. She began to withdraw, but I loudly insisted that the table be thoroughly cleaned. I suppose that helped make me a difficult patient.
I was not inclined to get better when I heard the big reveal to my roommate: his doctor–who was not the self-worshiped deity named Paz–suspected the nature of his throat infection....
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Heparin
Because the staff at Sturdy Memorial Hospital deemed the lame blind guy as a trip and fall hazard to be restricted to the bed, they injected heparin several times a day. This is a sulfur drug intended to prevent blood clots in people kept prone too long, and or have an IV in too long as clots can form at the TV catheter.
One of the nurse types started a conversation on Saturday by remarking that I was not bruising from the heparin at all, even at the stomach injection sites. She explained the heparin in that conversation. I asked if a medication meant to prevent blood clotting could have produced the positive side effect of lower than normal blood pressure. She said it very well could have.
On Sunday, when the bandage from the open and infected foot was finally opened, the previously dry toe abrasion had bled freely for the first time, through a diabetic’s reduced circulation and through the constrictive Charcot foot swelling. I figured the heparin was helping in a number of ways and had no complaints about the side effects.
Side effects of this drug can include fever and chills, which made the whole "cold blanket" debate with the nurses seem pretty sinister on their part, as if they gave a drug with those potential effects to a feverish patient then threatened temperature and anal sensor probing torture for kicks.
The potential side effects of lightheadedness, loss of balance or coordination, sudden weakness and leg numbness seems to make this either the most perfect or absolute worst thing to give someone deemed as a trip and fall hazard.
I am sure that before long, at least some of Sturdy’s staff had been wishing that the side effects of confusion and difficulty speaking or understanding would afflict me. Instead, I stayed sharp minded throughout my imprisonment.
I had no bleeding problems as can be common, including skin discolorations or foreign matter in other bodily fluids. I’m sure some of the staffers were wishing me to bleed due to my constant questions and concerns, which I had no shyness in voicing.
The problem came on the Monday morning when the nursing staff declared they had to draw a lot of blood, not just for the usual rounds of tests but because they had to type me in the event I needed a transfusion. Apparently, my hemoglobin counts and blood volume had fallen. I asked if this was due to the heparin. I thought it was a reasonable question in and of itself, especially considering what the other nurse-type had said two days before. This nurse type became defensive and told me flat out that heparin had no side effects.
I don’t respond well to people who lie to my face. As the next post will relate, that last day at Sturdy started badly and the lying woman just added fuel to the fire of my soul. I not only let her know that I knew she was lying, but questioned if all the blood they had leeched out of me that weekend would have reduced my blood volume, and pointed out that taking "even more than normal" amounts of blood because the blood volume was down is an absolute absurdity.
I was more than she could deal with and she retreated.
Really, in response to my question of the potential heparin connection to the blood volume, she could have said "maybe" or "I’m not sure" and I would have resigned myself to the situation without a confrontation.
Why is it that people who choose to lie react so badly to being called out?
One of the nurse types started a conversation on Saturday by remarking that I was not bruising from the heparin at all, even at the stomach injection sites. She explained the heparin in that conversation. I asked if a medication meant to prevent blood clotting could have produced the positive side effect of lower than normal blood pressure. She said it very well could have.
On Sunday, when the bandage from the open and infected foot was finally opened, the previously dry toe abrasion had bled freely for the first time, through a diabetic’s reduced circulation and through the constrictive Charcot foot swelling. I figured the heparin was helping in a number of ways and had no complaints about the side effects.
Side effects of this drug can include fever and chills, which made the whole "cold blanket" debate with the nurses seem pretty sinister on their part, as if they gave a drug with those potential effects to a feverish patient then threatened temperature and anal sensor probing torture for kicks.
The potential side effects of lightheadedness, loss of balance or coordination, sudden weakness and leg numbness seems to make this either the most perfect or absolute worst thing to give someone deemed as a trip and fall hazard.
I am sure that before long, at least some of Sturdy’s staff had been wishing that the side effects of confusion and difficulty speaking or understanding would afflict me. Instead, I stayed sharp minded throughout my imprisonment.
I had no bleeding problems as can be common, including skin discolorations or foreign matter in other bodily fluids. I’m sure some of the staffers were wishing me to bleed due to my constant questions and concerns, which I had no shyness in voicing.
The problem came on the Monday morning when the nursing staff declared they had to draw a lot of blood, not just for the usual rounds of tests but because they had to type me in the event I needed a transfusion. Apparently, my hemoglobin counts and blood volume had fallen. I asked if this was due to the heparin. I thought it was a reasonable question in and of itself, especially considering what the other nurse-type had said two days before. This nurse type became defensive and told me flat out that heparin had no side effects.
I don’t respond well to people who lie to my face. As the next post will relate, that last day at Sturdy started badly and the lying woman just added fuel to the fire of my soul. I not only let her know that I knew she was lying, but questioned if all the blood they had leeched out of me that weekend would have reduced my blood volume, and pointed out that taking "even more than normal" amounts of blood because the blood volume was down is an absolute absurdity.
I was more than she could deal with and she retreated.
Really, in response to my question of the potential heparin connection to the blood volume, she could have said "maybe" or "I’m not sure" and I would have resigned myself to the situation without a confrontation.
Why is it that people who choose to lie react so badly to being called out?
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Rocks and Hard Places
I’ve run a gamut of other problems since January’s reattachment surgery. I’ve discussed the cause and effects of the prednisone that I needed to drop in my eye. Prednisone is a steroid that is as much miracle drug as aspirin, and it is the only medication I have ever taken that has given me bad effects.
Discussing the bad effects with the eye doctor who did the surgery and prescribed the prednisone seems to have extended my reputation as a bad patient. That doctor insisted that the side effects I was feeling, particularly the nausea and vomiting of excess stomach acid production, were signs of other diabetic problem. I’m not such a believer in coincidence, given the timing of the problems’ onset. The doctor insisted that the dose was small while ignoring any research I has asked about that cited eye drops as one of the most potent absorption of medication. After two months of discussing this with her, I got allowance to discontinue the medication.
The side effects subsided. I can only wonder what has happened to medical training that every doctor argues with me when I report and effect of some sort of treatment. I simply pay attention to how I feel and what is going on with my body and the timing in which things change and develop. Why does this make me a difficult patient?
My blood pressure plummeted, the nervous tics diminished, vertigo became less of an issue, and my stomach seemed to pump acid back at normal levels, enough that fruit and proteins were not making the tummy erupt. The timing of improvement coincided exactly with the discontinuation of the prednisone, so I can only beat my head against a wall and wonder why every such thing had to be an argument with almost every doctor. I don’t claim to know more or be smarter than the docs. I just pay attention to my body and report what things do to me personally rather than generalized statistics.
My follow up with this good eye doctor is tomorrow, but I have already resumed the prednisone. As it turns out, the steroid–and not times, inactivity following the reattachment surgery, or another factor–caused that sudden recession of swelling in the Charcot foot. Pain and swelling both resumed with a vengeance. It’s worth the ill effects to have the legs slightly more usable.
My eye and foot doctors alike just need to be prepared for a difficult patient if either or both try to tell me that the leg condition is caused by something else entirely and that the timing of stopping and resuming the prednisone is strictly coincidental.
Discussing the bad effects with the eye doctor who did the surgery and prescribed the prednisone seems to have extended my reputation as a bad patient. That doctor insisted that the side effects I was feeling, particularly the nausea and vomiting of excess stomach acid production, were signs of other diabetic problem. I’m not such a believer in coincidence, given the timing of the problems’ onset. The doctor insisted that the dose was small while ignoring any research I has asked about that cited eye drops as one of the most potent absorption of medication. After two months of discussing this with her, I got allowance to discontinue the medication.
The side effects subsided. I can only wonder what has happened to medical training that every doctor argues with me when I report and effect of some sort of treatment. I simply pay attention to how I feel and what is going on with my body and the timing in which things change and develop. Why does this make me a difficult patient?
My blood pressure plummeted, the nervous tics diminished, vertigo became less of an issue, and my stomach seemed to pump acid back at normal levels, enough that fruit and proteins were not making the tummy erupt. The timing of improvement coincided exactly with the discontinuation of the prednisone, so I can only beat my head against a wall and wonder why every such thing had to be an argument with almost every doctor. I don’t claim to know more or be smarter than the docs. I just pay attention to my body and report what things do to me personally rather than generalized statistics.
My follow up with this good eye doctor is tomorrow, but I have already resumed the prednisone. As it turns out, the steroid–and not times, inactivity following the reattachment surgery, or another factor–caused that sudden recession of swelling in the Charcot foot. Pain and swelling both resumed with a vengeance. It’s worth the ill effects to have the legs slightly more usable.
My eye and foot doctors alike just need to be prepared for a difficult patient if either or both try to tell me that the leg condition is caused by something else entirely and that the timing of stopping and resuming the prednisone is strictly coincidental.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Getting the Boot
The Charcot foot is now in Stage Two.
Essentially, this means that most of the abnormal swelling is down and that it is in a period where it should, could, or might rehabilitate and restrengthen from reduced use. As no imaging showed any broken bones in my case, I did not keep it as absolutely rested and normally recommended, specifically to keep the leg and foot from completely atrophying on me.
I am aware that my legs, like my eyes, will never be what they were.
The Charcot foot had effects that no doctor warned me about. Maybe some of these things were coincidence in timing, but I am much too paranoid to be a big believer in coincidence.
My blood pressure skyrocketed at the same time the swelling developed. It has receded with the swelling, but not yet back down to prior levels, even with medication.
The prednisone that I have been eye dropping can also raise blood pressure, so that may be a futile battle at this point. My cynical worry is that the Lisinopril will turn what would be a sudden and fatal heart attack into something that will allow me to live with further debilitation.
The atrophy I had sought to prevent happened anyway. The foot and leg is used less during Stage One, and the swelling restricts nutrient flow, which can result in bone and tissue loss. The outcome for me is that the afflicted ankle collapsed. My right leg is now somewhat shorter than my left leg. I feel lopsided orientation when standing or walking. This has already put strain on left leg and has the potential to screw up my back.
Combined with blindness, I’m really disabled now. It’s screwed up my bowling as I tend not to stand straight or square and can’t see that my straight-throw alignment to the pins is off. Talking about this point is probably more leaning to bitchfest rather than informing about Charcot foot, so ‘nuff said.
Dry flaky skin over what was so massively swollen remains. I promise not to pass around another small sheet of dead skin to my bowling partners to show as "something cool" and identifying it only after they’ve been handling it. Maybe with the next larger piece, I will rehydrate it and feed it to the cats.
Like the ill advised PRP treatment that would prevent diabetic retinapathy, the Charcot foot will have permanent effects beyond my mismatched leg lengths. I’ve been prescribed and fitted for a leg brace, what the dumbass foot doctor said would be supportive but what the caster at the orthopedic appliance place said would be largely immobilizing. It’ll take a few weeks to get in; and until then, it’s like the long term prognosis on the reattachment surgery: wait and see, as best as I can.
Essentially, this means that most of the abnormal swelling is down and that it is in a period where it should, could, or might rehabilitate and restrengthen from reduced use. As no imaging showed any broken bones in my case, I did not keep it as absolutely rested and normally recommended, specifically to keep the leg and foot from completely atrophying on me.
I am aware that my legs, like my eyes, will never be what they were.
The Charcot foot had effects that no doctor warned me about. Maybe some of these things were coincidence in timing, but I am much too paranoid to be a big believer in coincidence.
My blood pressure skyrocketed at the same time the swelling developed. It has receded with the swelling, but not yet back down to prior levels, even with medication.
The prednisone that I have been eye dropping can also raise blood pressure, so that may be a futile battle at this point. My cynical worry is that the Lisinopril will turn what would be a sudden and fatal heart attack into something that will allow me to live with further debilitation.
The atrophy I had sought to prevent happened anyway. The foot and leg is used less during Stage One, and the swelling restricts nutrient flow, which can result in bone and tissue loss. The outcome for me is that the afflicted ankle collapsed. My right leg is now somewhat shorter than my left leg. I feel lopsided orientation when standing or walking. This has already put strain on left leg and has the potential to screw up my back.
Combined with blindness, I’m really disabled now. It’s screwed up my bowling as I tend not to stand straight or square and can’t see that my straight-throw alignment to the pins is off. Talking about this point is probably more leaning to bitchfest rather than informing about Charcot foot, so ‘nuff said.
Dry flaky skin over what was so massively swollen remains. I promise not to pass around another small sheet of dead skin to my bowling partners to show as "something cool" and identifying it only after they’ve been handling it. Maybe with the next larger piece, I will rehydrate it and feed it to the cats.
Like the ill advised PRP treatment that would prevent diabetic retinapathy, the Charcot foot will have permanent effects beyond my mismatched leg lengths. I’ve been prescribed and fitted for a leg brace, what the dumbass foot doctor said would be supportive but what the caster at the orthopedic appliance place said would be largely immobilizing. It’ll take a few weeks to get in; and until then, it’s like the long term prognosis on the reattachment surgery: wait and see, as best as I can.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Dropping the (Eye)ball
The surgeon/doc who performed the retina reattachment and vitreous exchange prescribed four medications via eye drop.
The first was an antibiotic that she discontinued after a week. Knowing I no longer needed it quelled the imaginings of maladies in the eye, such as some alien pillar of disgust growing out of my eye or a more realistic fear that if something happened behind the eye that the eye might have to be removed.
I know longer have enough reading vision even with glasses to know what most of the other three are by name. I know them by what they do.
The first dilates the pupil. The pupil can stiffen and work less ably following reattachment, so this helps keep it nimble, so to speak. It has the side effect of increasing glare and over exposing things. I am not sure how standard this is as I had documented pupil function issues prior to the reattachment surgery.
Glaucoma numbers among the risks of retina attachment surgery. The second drop keeps the eye pressure down. This drop was not doing the job for me, so the doctor prescribed an additional job to do the same thing. My eye pressure had not reached the danger zone of over 30, but post op was not at my usual good range of 14-18 either.
The third drop is prednisone. This is the first medication that I can ever remember having adverse reaction to. I should say adverse reactions. I’m in stomach acid overload, suffer frequent vertigo and generalized weakness, further insomnia and fatigue, and am having nervous symptoms including worse mood changes and tics that have been driving many of the people around me nuts, even more than normal. Prednisone can also increase eye and blood pressure, so I am needing medication for my medication.
But I continue to take it with the hoped of long term recovery.
The course of drops also diminishes my vision when applied, so I am really hoping the long term gains pan out.
In the meantime, I can only hope most people can’t quite differentiate my increased mood changes and tics from the old oddities.
The first was an antibiotic that she discontinued after a week. Knowing I no longer needed it quelled the imaginings of maladies in the eye, such as some alien pillar of disgust growing out of my eye or a more realistic fear that if something happened behind the eye that the eye might have to be removed.
I know longer have enough reading vision even with glasses to know what most of the other three are by name. I know them by what they do.
The first dilates the pupil. The pupil can stiffen and work less ably following reattachment, so this helps keep it nimble, so to speak. It has the side effect of increasing glare and over exposing things. I am not sure how standard this is as I had documented pupil function issues prior to the reattachment surgery.
Glaucoma numbers among the risks of retina attachment surgery. The second drop keeps the eye pressure down. This drop was not doing the job for me, so the doctor prescribed an additional job to do the same thing. My eye pressure had not reached the danger zone of over 30, but post op was not at my usual good range of 14-18 either.
The third drop is prednisone. This is the first medication that I can ever remember having adverse reaction to. I should say adverse reactions. I’m in stomach acid overload, suffer frequent vertigo and generalized weakness, further insomnia and fatigue, and am having nervous symptoms including worse mood changes and tics that have been driving many of the people around me nuts, even more than normal. Prednisone can also increase eye and blood pressure, so I am needing medication for my medication.
But I continue to take it with the hoped of long term recovery.
The course of drops also diminishes my vision when applied, so I am really hoping the long term gains pan out.
In the meantime, I can only hope most people can’t quite differentiate my increased mood changes and tics from the old oddities.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Rising Pressure
The elevated blood pressure was a major concern regarding the retina reattachment surgery. The doctor would have preferred to postpone the surgery entirely and was concerned afterwards about excess bleeding.
I chose to push ahead. I had been mentally preparing for the all-or-nothing surgery for more than a month in a time that was seeing so many other problems erupt in life. My vision had been deteriorating rapidly. I have a tendency to push ahead once my mind is made up. As much as most other people see me as decisive and stubborn, I actually second guess myself a lot and overthink most things. The blood pressure could have been a convenient excuse to delay or cancel the potentially devastating surgery. Once I make ne excuse, sometimes keep them coming. Overcompensating for that makes me stubborn sometimes.
Up until October of 2011, my BP tended to run on the higher end of normal. It did not peak above 145/90 and was often lower. The last test in October saw 137/78, not bad at all.
The next time it was taken, in December, it had spiked dramatically: 212/123. The assistant at the sports medicine place had taken t when I was there to have the Charcot foot treated. That was the same morning that another pool of floaters had let go in the eye while I was in the waiting room. I figured anyone’s BP would be high under the circumstances. I meant to follow up with a drug store freebie test but never did. I learned it had stayed elevated during pre-op tests the week before the surgery. The starter dose of Lisinopril did little for it.
Labwork shows my sodium in its usual low level; I really do tend to eat right. There’s been increased stress from most fronts lately, but my theory is that the Charcot foot itself is behind the sudden BP rise. The foot has been swollen and sunken, and flow to the foot is impaired.
Time will tell, and in the meantime I am taking a high dose of a drug I have traditionally avoided because it’s one of those things that can be dangerous to stop.
I chose to push ahead. I had been mentally preparing for the all-or-nothing surgery for more than a month in a time that was seeing so many other problems erupt in life. My vision had been deteriorating rapidly. I have a tendency to push ahead once my mind is made up. As much as most other people see me as decisive and stubborn, I actually second guess myself a lot and overthink most things. The blood pressure could have been a convenient excuse to delay or cancel the potentially devastating surgery. Once I make ne excuse, sometimes keep them coming. Overcompensating for that makes me stubborn sometimes.
Up until October of 2011, my BP tended to run on the higher end of normal. It did not peak above 145/90 and was often lower. The last test in October saw 137/78, not bad at all.
The next time it was taken, in December, it had spiked dramatically: 212/123. The assistant at the sports medicine place had taken t when I was there to have the Charcot foot treated. That was the same morning that another pool of floaters had let go in the eye while I was in the waiting room. I figured anyone’s BP would be high under the circumstances. I meant to follow up with a drug store freebie test but never did. I learned it had stayed elevated during pre-op tests the week before the surgery. The starter dose of Lisinopril did little for it.
Labwork shows my sodium in its usual low level; I really do tend to eat right. There’s been increased stress from most fronts lately, but my theory is that the Charcot foot itself is behind the sudden BP rise. The foot has been swollen and sunken, and flow to the foot is impaired.
Time will tell, and in the meantime I am taking a high dose of a drug I have traditionally avoided because it’s one of those things that can be dangerous to stop.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Post-Op: Blurred Vision and Mind
The retina reattachment surgery lasted somewhere around four hours. I’m not sure exactly how long as I was completely unconscious, and can’t really see clocks, watches, or my cell phone display well enough to ever really know what time it is anyway. Four hours is a longer session for the procedure. The results may be disappointing to undetermined in final analysis, but I do know that this doctor tried his best.
I left the hospital with the eye bandaged and covered by a plastic shield. The shield was more than an eyepatch; the hard plastic would ensure that the eye wouldn’t squish on itself in my sleep. I was specifically told to sleep on the left side. I assume that would allow better drainage of blood.
They sent mer home with a course of four eye drops, a combination of antibiotics and a steroid and other goodies. I can’t see the bottles well enough to know what they are. The doctor dropped one of them the following week, but added another to reduce the increased pressure in the eye, a condition caused by the drops.
I do remember what one of the four drops I am, still taking is: prednisone. ‘Ve most definitely been feeling the side effects of that one. These include increased irritability (like most people can tell from my normal levels;) worsening of my insomnia (like most people can tell from my normal levels;) and increased mood changes, mental disturbances and other nervous ticks (like most people can tell from my normal levels.) The prednisone has also hit mer with excess stomach acid bad enough to lead to vomiting, elevated blood pressure, and is the med responsible for the heightened eye pressure in the eye getting the drops. I am happy to report with a sound knock on wood that I have had no bleeding or bruising issues and have not developed irregular periods. That last one would be pretty freaky.
These side effects have added to the stresses of needing to cope with (hopefully temporarily) further reduced vision and the bad foot and the need to accept that I will probably never be "whole" again. I’m working on that, but ask for patience from those who must deal with me while I may seem a bit (more) off.
I left the hospital with the eye bandaged and covered by a plastic shield. The shield was more than an eyepatch; the hard plastic would ensure that the eye wouldn’t squish on itself in my sleep. I was specifically told to sleep on the left side. I assume that would allow better drainage of blood.
They sent mer home with a course of four eye drops, a combination of antibiotics and a steroid and other goodies. I can’t see the bottles well enough to know what they are. The doctor dropped one of them the following week, but added another to reduce the increased pressure in the eye, a condition caused by the drops.
I do remember what one of the four drops I am, still taking is: prednisone. ‘Ve most definitely been feeling the side effects of that one. These include increased irritability (like most people can tell from my normal levels;) worsening of my insomnia (like most people can tell from my normal levels;) and increased mood changes, mental disturbances and other nervous ticks (like most people can tell from my normal levels.) The prednisone has also hit mer with excess stomach acid bad enough to lead to vomiting, elevated blood pressure, and is the med responsible for the heightened eye pressure in the eye getting the drops. I am happy to report with a sound knock on wood that I have had no bleeding or bruising issues and have not developed irregular periods. That last one would be pretty freaky.
These side effects have added to the stresses of needing to cope with (hopefully temporarily) further reduced vision and the bad foot and the need to accept that I will probably never be "whole" again. I’m working on that, but ask for patience from those who must deal with me while I may seem a bit (more) off.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Under the Knife: Retina Reattachment
The retina reattachment surgery of January 19:
The hospital did a prep session the previous Friday, including my first ever EKG. They determined, contrary to popular opinion on the street, that I do indeed have a heart. The surgery got green lighted with some reservation over a relatively new condition of elevated blood pressure.
The doctor was hesitant to go through with the surgery that morning, also due to the BP. The 10 mg Lisinopril had made only slight improvement. The decision to go on with it fell to me. My vision had decreased so much in the preceding months that I did not see much left to lose. The IV was already in place, pumping me with insulin and who knows what else. I was committed to do or die that day. They added a BP med to the IV cocktail
Because of the BP and the potential that this would be a longer procedure, they opted for total anesthesia rather than the "twilight" local.
I was surprised that they told me I could wear the johnny open in the front or the back, and that I could leave my shorts on. I had always thought there was supposed to be no outside clothing in the OR and that the johnny was always supposed to be open in the back.
Even when I could maintain any sleeping schedule, I Have never been a morning person, so I dozed while waiting, and I found myself annoyed that they woke me to tell me they were going to put me under. It seemed no different from the Moe Howard routine of slapping one of his sleeping partners and ordering, "wake up and go to sleep!"
The hospital did a prep session the previous Friday, including my first ever EKG. They determined, contrary to popular opinion on the street, that I do indeed have a heart. The surgery got green lighted with some reservation over a relatively new condition of elevated blood pressure.
The doctor was hesitant to go through with the surgery that morning, also due to the BP. The 10 mg Lisinopril had made only slight improvement. The decision to go on with it fell to me. My vision had decreased so much in the preceding months that I did not see much left to lose. The IV was already in place, pumping me with insulin and who knows what else. I was committed to do or die that day. They added a BP med to the IV cocktail
Because of the BP and the potential that this would be a longer procedure, they opted for total anesthesia rather than the "twilight" local.
I was surprised that they told me I could wear the johnny open in the front or the back, and that I could leave my shorts on. I had always thought there was supposed to be no outside clothing in the OR and that the johnny was always supposed to be open in the back.
Even when I could maintain any sleeping schedule, I Have never been a morning person, so I dozed while waiting, and I found myself annoyed that they woke me to tell me they were going to put me under. It seemed no different from the Moe Howard routine of slapping one of his sleeping partners and ordering, "wake up and go to sleep!"
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The Rhode Island Motto: Hope
The jury’s still out on the overall success of the 19 January retina reattachment surgery. The biggest risks are past, but judging from the doc’s renewal of the course of antibiotic drops, some threats still linger.
I am also seeing differently but not as well as I was before the surgery.
The effect I experience now is not dissimilar from the original vitreous hemorrhage. The surgery left a pool of dark, dirty blood in the eye. That glob shakes and mixes with the saline solution that is now in the center of the eye to fog over everything. As the globs slowly dissipated, it further clouds the central visual field. This takes time to improve but is leaving me blinder than normal until the healing process progresses.
There are improvements of other sorts. My color vision improves in inconstant spurts. The haze that I look through is a clean sheen rather than ruddy or gray fogs.
Since Autumn, I could do little but "watch" as my vision deteriorated. While the vision is currently worse, U know have hope of it getting better. That’s a lot more than I had just a month ago, and I will hold on to it and look forward, even if I cannot currently see what I am looking at.
I am also seeing differently but not as well as I was before the surgery.
The effect I experience now is not dissimilar from the original vitreous hemorrhage. The surgery left a pool of dark, dirty blood in the eye. That glob shakes and mixes with the saline solution that is now in the center of the eye to fog over everything. As the globs slowly dissipated, it further clouds the central visual field. This takes time to improve but is leaving me blinder than normal until the healing process progresses.
There are improvements of other sorts. My color vision improves in inconstant spurts. The haze that I look through is a clean sheen rather than ruddy or gray fogs.
Since Autumn, I could do little but "watch" as my vision deteriorated. While the vision is currently worse, U know have hope of it getting better. That’s a lot more than I had just a month ago, and I will hold on to it and look forward, even if I cannot currently see what I am looking at.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Running Risks
In hindsight (about all I have left) I stand by my decision to hide the impending surgery from almost everyone. The risks in retina reattachment surgery are well beyond the fate of the doctor suddenly needing to sneeze while a knife or laser is in my eye.
Four risks dominated the list of potential problems:
1. Death on the table
2. Physical loss of the eye
3. Going from "visually impaired" to blind in the dark sense most people think of when they think "blind."
4. Infection
The risk of death increased by suddenly elevated blood pressure. My theory is that the Charcot foot increased the BP, but I haven’t found documented support of that. Where I had resisted Lisinopril despite its positive kidney effects because my BP had never been out of the normal range, I started it the week before the surgery. I quickly learned that the started dose wasn’t enough.
The doctor was hesitant to do the surgery, but went ahead with my encouragement. The increased BP also increases bleeding risks.
I woke up from the surgery, so the ultimate risk was past.
The possibility that I would wake up with fewer than two eyes physically in my head also did not happen.
I sweated most over the chance of being fully blinded by the surgery. When I got home and my roommate lifted the patch and shield and bandage to give eye drops, I held my breath. The eye could see light. I had not been rendered dark blind.
The fourth of the big risks is danger of infection. I am on a course of eye drops to prevent that. I am not sure how fully beyond that risk I now stand as the doc extended the prescription of the drops; that had not been necessary following the cataract surgery. I can discern no signs of problems, but I am following the recommendation diligently.
The actual success of the surgery remains to be seen, or not seen as the case my be.
Four risks dominated the list of potential problems:
1. Death on the table
2. Physical loss of the eye
3. Going from "visually impaired" to blind in the dark sense most people think of when they think "blind."
4. Infection
The risk of death increased by suddenly elevated blood pressure. My theory is that the Charcot foot increased the BP, but I haven’t found documented support of that. Where I had resisted Lisinopril despite its positive kidney effects because my BP had never been out of the normal range, I started it the week before the surgery. I quickly learned that the started dose wasn’t enough.
The doctor was hesitant to do the surgery, but went ahead with my encouragement. The increased BP also increases bleeding risks.
I woke up from the surgery, so the ultimate risk was past.
The possibility that I would wake up with fewer than two eyes physically in my head also did not happen.
I sweated most over the chance of being fully blinded by the surgery. When I got home and my roommate lifted the patch and shield and bandage to give eye drops, I held my breath. The eye could see light. I had not been rendered dark blind.
The fourth of the big risks is danger of infection. I am on a course of eye drops to prevent that. I am not sure how fully beyond that risk I now stand as the doc extended the prescription of the drops; that had not been necessary following the cataract surgery. I can discern no signs of problems, but I am following the recommendation diligently.
The actual success of the surgery remains to be seen, or not seen as the case my be.
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