Just between me and you

Hi New TN warrior, I thought I would welcome you to this world with some advice based on what I have learned on this journey so far. So just between me and you...

Firstly, education is key. Make sure you have educated yourself about TN. There are lots of web posts about it, but the more reputable sites are those covering scientific journals and sites dedicated to facial pain research, like The Facial Pain Association or tnnme.com . It's important for your own sanity and for sharing information with family friends and colleagues. More importantly though, it's possible you will come into contact with health professionals who haven't yet heard of this rare disease, believe it or not, and this means you need to be sure of your facts going into a consultation. It's also very important, and I mean EXTREMELY important, to learn that all TN patients may be similar in how they describe and experience the pain. However, for some reason, we all react differently to treatment. What works for some to put them in remission, may not work for others.
Secondly, TN is unpredictable. One day/minute you will feel okay and the next you will feel like you are the source of an electrical storm or that a knife has been jammed into your face...or however you choose to describe your symptoms. It's scary, I know, but something that I am starting to accept.
Next, remembering the first two I have mentioned, it is understandable that you need to be your own best advocate. Your own best weapon as a TN warrior. You are likely to come across a doctor, specialist, emergency room nurse or manager at work that tries to dismiss your pain because either they aren't aware of TN or they see you as "ok" at that moment. This is when your self-education around the disease comes in handy. Your knowledge of TN and the possible treatment out there is how you can know what to ask in a consultation. Your level of understanding about your capabilities in your current pain levels or going in to a possible scenario where you will encounter a trigger, is what you need as a weapon in any discussion with your manager. Do not let someone who doesn't have TN try to dismiss your pain. Don't let anyone force you into a situation where triggers will be inevitable, e.g. having to sit outside in the wind for any reason if wind is your trigger.
That said, something that I really hate to have learnt is that this disease is an unrelenting beast. It doesn't care if you don't have plans for the day or if it's the day of your child's athletic event. It doesn't care of you have just started a new  career and need to be in important meetings. It will attack when it wants to. It's unrelenting, yes, but only you can decide how you respond. If you choose to push through the pain for an important event, you have to know how you will react later (for me pushing through in pain for something I don't want to miss, means days of being incapable of functioning afterwards). It kind of links to the education side of what I have shared. You need to educate yourself about your own limits and be sure that those in your life understand them. I have read many blogs and articles where people with various chronic conditions say that you should remember that 'you are not your disease' or 'don't let your disease define you.' I'm sorry, I honestly don't think that applies to TN. Someone walking past me causes enough disturbance in the air to cause pain...it IS my life! I think I'll leave that sentiment for another day.

Two points I think should be made together, is what I will end my conversation with you on. Find support, either from a family member/members, friends or online in one of the support groups. Your personal, physical support is so important to help you cope on a daily basis. When it comes to the online groups, there are many, find one you feel comfortable in. The value of having others, even virtually, know what you're going through is hard for me to explain. It truly does help. Once you know who really does accept, believe and support you, hold on to them. Your family and friends will often feel helpless because they can't make it better, they can't say 'get well soon' and they can't relieve your anguish in the midst of an attack. You need to acknowledge their helplessness but more importantly, hold on tight to the support you have. You are not alone in this, your acceptance of this last fact is what can keep you going even on the hardest days.
My dear fellow warrior, welcome to the battle, and may the elephant on your face truly be gentle on you today.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader

Atypically typical

Trigeminal Neuralgia is often categorised as either, typical (type 1) or atypical (type 2). Type 1 is  where someone experiences intermittent stabbing/shocking/burning sensation in the path of the nerve. It is debilitating and comes without warning or as a result of a trigger. Type 2 is a more constant burning, pressure or stabbing pain in the area of the nerve. I have the unpleasant experience of having both.
On most days, I have an average of the type 1 attacks 5-20 times but always have a constant level of 7/10 type 2 pain. I have been trying to understand the severity of the disease in a way that I am able to explain it to doctors and those around me but often the words just do not come close to providing a true account of what it is I feel.
Most people with TN will speak of flares as a period of time when pain is at a maximum and can't seem to be relieved by medication or any other methods. Attacks are the more sudden, short-lived pain that brings you to your knees.
I have come out of an atypical TN (aTN) flare of 36 hours now and thought it best to just explain it as it is....perhaps someone out there will understand and it will hopefully help them to understand their friend, loved one, or colleague with this horrid disease.
For the past 36 hours I have been unable to eat or keep even liquids down. My husband has made sure that I have at least tried to. The pain has been mostly a sensation of some demon pushing out my eyeball with a knife from the inside, coupled with a knife or ice pick stuck in my ear and a blowtorch focused squarely on my jaw. I struggled to speak, move or focus on anything with my eyes. Vomiting was all I could do, but that just intensified the pain. I honestly didn't care if I wet myself as walking to the bathroom meant I would feel the vibration that comes with moving, so getting to the bathroom was not a priority. What could bring about such pain? This time... Unintentionally turning to face my husband in bed while he was sleeping and having him breathe onto me. It's not his fault,not mine either...I'm just an atypically typical TN sufferer.

During a flare of 10/10 pain my family begs me to allow them to take me to the emergency room. I know that there are people out there who believe that because I don't go to the hospital, it really can't be that bad. However, being on high doses of schedule 6 narcotics on a daily basis, and hearing the accusations from doctors or pharmacists about being a drug seeker already, it seems quite pointless to go to a place for help when there isn't help available. It's a chronic, progressive condition, so a short term knockout by meds in the ER with a dose of irritation from staff is honestly not worth it. In this case, based on the feedback from fellow support group members, I am again, atypically typical.

So today, I am back down to a bearable 7/10 aTN pain and have had a few 8/10 TN shocks.... But I can walk today, I can talk and I can finally focus enough to read and write.
just another atypical typical day for me. Wishing the same for those I know living with an elephant on their face.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader

Hard work... For what?

I have been "quiet" thanks to quite bad and continuous attacks lately....it basically sucks the life out of you and I have had to prioritise.

I had a conversation with my husband a few days ago that has inspired this post.

One of the common themes in posts on the support groups for TN is that of "I never thought this is how my life would be..." I can relate and add another commonly used part to that sentence "...at this age."

The conversation I spoke of above followed a similar path. I began saying that I never dreamed this life up for me and my family and then stopped. You know what? I didn't dream my life up. I worked hard, damn hard, to get to where I was before TN reared its ugly head. I put in effort, tears, determination, late nights, worked up to 5 jobs at a time..... And for what? To live one minute to the next, not knowing if I would be able to continue a conversation or if I may embarrass myself by screaming like an incensed banshee in the middle of a meeting? Did I do all I have in my young life for me to become a relative prisoner in my own home only to leave when I really have to? Did I work to prove the naysayers wrong so that I would have to deal with many people not even believing the basic premise of who I am and what I deal with every day?  I worked hard to try and achieve ambitions in a relatively young career and in studies...FOR WHAT????

I think this, not the pain, is probably one of the most difficult parts of coming to terms with TN for me. 

So, for today can I ask you to do me a favour? If you come across someone in your life struggling with a chronic pain condition.... Don't underestimate the effect or impact it has had on, not just their dreams but, their hard work in this crazy thing we call life.

To my fellow warriors, May the elephant on your face be gentle with you today.

Carry on

I have realised that many posts I make on Facebook lately end with, "that is all, carry on." I mean it, I really do. What do I mean?
Well, I know everyone has their own life, their own joys, struggles, hardships and victories. I know all too well, as described in previous posts here, that my personal battles are not necessarily high on the list of things to worry about for many people around me. So I post a thought or rant and appreciate you reading it, but understand that your life needs to go on, thus the conclusion to my post, "carry on."

For me right now, to be able to do that in my own life is nearly impossible. I started experiencing pain, the stabbing, electric shocks of pain deep in my ear, mostly triggered by swallowing. This is not usually a symptom of TN. I recently saw my doctor and have now received the confirmation that it's a different type of neuralgia. This is genticulate neuralgia. Rare, as TN is and the fibrous dysplasia (bone tumor) that I have, but even more difficult to treat. Psychologically, this is a major blow. Any new symptoms when you're already fighting to find help for the old ones, just seems to be another slap in the face. You find yourself screaming at the universe, begging for a break.
With new symptoms, comes new meds or trying old meds again. This brings with it the dreaded side effects and horrible brain fog. I'm trying desperately to "carry on" right now with my family, my job, my hobby-turned-small business.... I'm trying.

To my fellow warriors, may the elephant on your face be gentle with you today and allow you to carry on.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader

Out of control

Generally, we all like to have some control over our lives. One thing that TN doesn't allow me to have, just like any other illness, is to have control over how I feel physically. It doesn't allow me to have control over how severe an attack is, though I can try to avoid triggers, I still can't decide when I'll have an attack and when not.

I do not have control over how I will feel in the morning, even if I did go to sleep with low pain levels. I do not have control over how much pain I will have by the time I get to work, even if I was able to wash, brush my teeth and get dressed without attacks. 

I think you get my drift.

Having a diagnosis of a progressive condition, one without a curative treatment, means that I have had to learn that there is a lot that I can no longer control. I have no control over how much it has progressed in the last 5 months.
It has been, and continues to be, a very difficult thing to deal with. As a result, I have found that I try to hold onto as much control as possible in areas of my life where I still have it. Certain aspects of work, being able to choose not to take medication that isn't working, selecting a procedure after I have researched it and discussed it at length with the specialists.... these are all things that I have control over. 

In a way, this is why it is so irritating and at times, infuriating, for someone to say something like, "but you were fine yesterday/earlier." It is extremely frustrating to have simple things that I should and can still do, being taken away from me because others feel that they are either more capable or are fed up with waiting for me to deliver on a promise where in the past I would have done it much quicker. I am not saying that I still expect to, or want to do everything I could before. I am however, finding that I am asking those in my life more and more to at least talk to me about their ideas of issues that affect me. To take away my decision making ability when I still have it, is by far, the most hurtful thing that has happened since my diagnosis and the progression of this disease. 

So, for those, who like me, are struggling to hold on to the seemingly simple matters in life.....carry on. Keep that control, even if your body has decided to take so much away from you. For those who have to live with, and interact with us, remember, this physical condition, though it has its' psychological effects, does not take away my ability to think and reason as I did before. I can still have a reasonable, logical conversation with you (assuming I am able to talk on that day) or email discussion. My disease might reside in my head, physically, but it has not taken full control of it and/or its' contents.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader

Randomly musing and missing being part of your life

A good friend recently said something to me that makes perfect sense, but yet, is something I have struggled to accept since becoming ill. People generally stay away from someone with an invisible illness, not because they don't care, but because they feel helpless to help the person they care about.

This makes sense. I know it does. On a purely logical level, I do understand. This is something that I have heard so many in the support groups cry and vent about. Family members who no longer invite you to gatherings, friends who don't invite your kids out to play with theirs, friends/family who no longer visit.

It is so extremely difficult to deal with. I have always been a home-body. Not necessarily someone to go out and party. What I have always done though, is enjoy spending time just being with family and close friends. I miss that. I have had to adjust to being a hermit for most of the week with a maximum of 2 days out of the week where I have to be in the office. Even that has become difficult, with more sick leave these days than before.

I have had colleagues, friends and family all say the words "I wish there was something I could do" to me recently. I do too. I wish there was something I could tell you to do. I wish I knew what would help. BUT, because I don't know what will work, and neither do the very qualified, highly specialised doctors, I do not have a straight answer to that statement. What I do know though, is that 'something' you may wish to do for the chronic pain warrior in your life, is just to be there. Coming to visit, even if it's just sitting and watching tv with me would be awesome. Sending a short message just to say hi, making sure meetings are not unnecessarily long.....those are 'somethings' in my book.

I have slowly, but very surely, felt my friends pull away. Colleagues and friends may be frustrated at my limitations, and I understand that. Just imagine how frustrated I am? How frustrated I am to have to plan my day to make sure that I do not have to brush my teeth too close to having to be in a moving vehicle because the combination would cause too much pain? Imagine how frustrated I am to have to avoid work gatherings that are in a place with too many windows/air conditioning/outside?
I know it must be irritating at times for you too. Irritating to have to hear about my pain all the time. Just imagine how irritating it must be to have absolutely no control over how much pain I may be in, over when an attack will hit.

Think of it this way, if someone had to break their arm today. Would you give them all the manual labour that needs to be done around the office/in the home? Would you tell them to get over it, pray the fracture away, deal with it because it isn't a terminal illness? Tell them to stop wearing a cast/sling to show everyone that their arm was broken? Would you stop being their friend for something that they did not have control over? I have heard statements to my face and behind my back, all to this effect. I don't expect pity, I don't expect my friends and family to be constantly asking me if I'm in pain (I always am). What I do ask for, and I am sure others with TN ask for the same, is for you just to be there. Just understand that this is scary for me too. I feel helpless and without any hope most days, and it would be awesome if you you said the same to me too, because then we could figure it out together.  For now though, unless I make the effort to contact many friends/extended family members, I have had to accept that their absence from my life is something I will have to live with. I just sincerely hope that it is because they don't know how to not be able to fix me. I don't want to think of the alternative, because that is a whole other post. A post about those who no longer want to be in your life because you can no longer help/do for them what you did before.....


To my fellow TN warriors, may the elephant on your face be gentle today, if not, may he go to sleep really, really soon.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader

I'm okay

There's a popular spoonie who goes by the name of Mrs Welches on social media. She regularly posts pictures and posters that resonate with me. Today I saw one that I am sharing here explaining what it means when we say, "I'm okay."

I would like to elaborate on what that means to me, since its invariably my response to a "how are you" these days.

I'm....
Overwhelmed
Killing myself
Angry

Yearning

I am Overwhelmed  by the effects that TN has had on my life. Overwhelmed by the pain, the constant, excruciating, ever increasing pain. I am overwhelmed by the decisions that I find myself needing to make regarding my life, my future, my identity. I'm often overwhelmed just at the thought of having to do simple tasks, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, opening the front door when I can see that the wind is blowing outside.

I am Killing myself daily. Not literally, but figuratively. I am killing myself just trying to work for more than one day at a time. I'm killing myself trying to push through the pain on days when the kids need me to be there for them, helping with homework, going to a performance, supporting them at an event. I'm killing myself emotionally, trying to be strong until the kids go to bed each night just to give them a sense of normalcy.  It may be hard to believe, but it is killing my soul just knowing that I'm losing my ability to fight through the pain as well as I may have done last week, because this week is just so much harder and I know that next week will be worse.

I am Angry! I am filled with rage at this body that I possess. I am no longer as angry as I was before with doctors or colleagues or people in my life for not understanding and believing me. I'm angry at this disease. I'm angry because of what it has taken from me. I'm angry because I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't talk....when the pain is at a maximum. I'm angry that it takes from me simple and important pleasures, like physical intimacy with my husband, kisses from my kids or my parents, long conversations with good friends. I'm seriously, dangerously, angry right now. The anger obviously is the only thing that fuels me enough to go on some days, but anger of this intensity can't be good.

I am yearning for so many things. I'm yearning for the me that I was before all this started. I'm yearning for the dreams that I have had to give up on and for clarity in making new ones and having the courage to attempt to achieve. I'm yearning for a few minutes, seconds even, of relief. Most people with classic TN do not have constant pain, unfortunately, I am one of the many who do. I am yearning for a night of uninterrupted sleep. I'm yearning, and aching, for comfort for my husband and kids as every attack and flare breaks their hearts in so many visible ways. I'm yearning for a cure for all of us who suffer this horrible fate.

So if you ask me today, how I am doing. I can honestly say, I'm okay. I like Mrs Whelches description and explanation of what she means when she says it, this however is mine. My explanation can't fit onto a poster, and I believe that hers might not either. BUT, I am grateful for those like her who dare to say the things that resonate so well with all of us suffering with invisible, chronic, illnesses and pain. I'm proud to be a fellow spoonie with her and continue to make it my mission to educate and inform others about it through my own social media presence. Some days though, I'm just okay  and those are truly the days that I find it harder than most to fulfill that mission.

For my fellow TN fighters, warriors we may be, but remember, it's ok not to lie when asked how you are today, it really is ok for you to be  okay. 

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader