What I Wish People Knew About CF

I am a member of Cystic Fibrosis forum that strives to bring a sense of community, realness and positive thinking to those of us with CF and our beloved love ones. A while back the question of what we wished people without CF know about CF or could understand better was proposed. At first I had a laundry list of points and thoughts but then I withdrew from the question entirely thinking it was too complicated to even begin to answer.

As time has gone on that question keeps coming to mind. It flares up when I think that someone should know what I am talking about and not look at me like I'm the idiot. Which neither of us are, I just think there is so much and too few words. I feel like it will never really be understood by those without CF, but that they'll only be able to related thru compassion, empathy and love.

We all know what its like to experience a cold, many know what its like to have a daily routine of medications, many know what is like to face a doctor who gives you statistics on how long you have to live, many know what is like to walk thru life being imperfect in pain with no cure and many know what its like to face astounding medical bills. But to know what its like to have CF, is like trying to know what its like to be another person all together.

I want to be able to education my readers, friends, family and the entire world. I want to give you something that your brain can rap around. I want to paint a picture without making it look hopeless but even that is a daunting task that I think only a lifetime of educating oneself on CF will accomplish.

But I can try to pin point a few things I and other CF'ers wished people could understand better......

• Minor colds, or illness's could be life threatening and please take me seriously when I ask to be notified that your feeling "under the weather" so that I can bow out.

• That not all CF'ers are the same. CF affects each person differently and manifests itself differently from patient to patient. We are not cookie cutters. We are unique cookies, some of us have 3 chocolate chips while some end up with none.

• Taking care of myself is a full-time job with no pay, no benefits and no prospect at future employment. No joke. But most of us have to really seek employment to pay for our medical bills and fear losing SSI/SSDI if we are gainfully employed. So, really, we have two full-time jobs. 

• Our life expectancy isn't 16 anymore. We have fought hard and we have pushed that number up into the mid to late 30's!!!

• CF is our WHOLE life. We don't get better, we never go into remission and we never get a break. EVER. If we do its because we have died.

• We pass gas and can't help it. Many CF'ers are plagued with having to take enzymes to digest food which can't break down the fats and causes massive stomach pain. We are sorry for this and we know its very unpleasant for all who happen to be around. Sorry a billion times over.

• Wish it was viewed as a "lifestyle" disease instead of a lung disease. Because CF is not a lung disease it's a disease of the cells and it affects far more than just our lungs.

• We struggle tirelessly to gain weight. Many of us have G-tubes to get extra calories. We hate hearing that you would trade being heavy or needing to lose a few pounds for CF. Take my word, you would not.

• Just because I have CF doesn't mean my offspring will have it too.

With all that being said, please join the conversation. What would you like to know about CF. What things have you thought "I wonder why, how, when.........." The above is simply from mine and others with CF's prospective based on what people have said to us, asked us and non-verbally communicated to us.

Just curious about what's floating around in your head!

~Doodlin'

Allergy = Hospitalization Day # Dos

I am happy to announce that hopelessness didn't consume me entirely!

As the night wore on and I realized that I was in for the long haul with no sleep and nothing from home but my cell phone, I decided to utilize my Facebook application. Thank goodness. I put one post about my dilemma out there only to get 29 comments. This may sound ridiculous but it kept me in the game, each time a new comment was posted my phone would ding announcing the news. That ding became a sweet sound of reprieve. I was taken away to FB land to read something that was encouraging and heart-warming. Thank you all.

By about 4am my phone battery had died from all the use and no charger but my CF doctor came in that morning unusually early because of all the patients in different hospitals that he needed to see. I was beyond thankful. During our discussion about the nights events, we both felt that changing the Zosyn to Meropenem was what absolutely needed to happen as it appeared that I had developed an allergy to the Zosyn.

This is not good news. The changing of medicines, yes. The allergy, no. There are only a few medications that Pseudomonas is sensitive to, meaning that can battle the nasty stuff. I now am allergic to  two of those precious medications.

The nurses immediately began to infuse the new drug and I slowly started regain normalacy. The vomiting stopped immediately, although I was left with no appetite for most of day. The no appetite thing had nurses a bit on their toes since I need approximately 3500 calories a day. The use of my feeding tube was halted because the hospital didn't have a particular connector tubing that my MIC-key button (g-tube) required thus zero caloric intake for over 12 hours. B would have to bring the proper connector up later that day. I still could not sleep. All the drugs that were given to help ease each symptom left me in a haze. I would close my eyes, toss and turn, fluff my pillows but sleep would allude me each time. My mom came up sometime in the day light hours of the morning, she came in tow with a bag that B had packed me of all the stuff I wanted from home. In my exhaustion I really wanted nothing to do with most of it besides the phone charger so that I could update my dear and loyal FB friends as well as return the 20+ text messages. My mom stayed the entire day, she simply sat played on her new iPad toy by my bed as I desperately tried to sleep. We would spark a conversation here and there but not much. I really really really wanted to sleep. That's what mom's do, they sit by your side with no expectations to be entertained.

Sleep is a very allusive function while in the hospital under the best of circumstances. In the hospital that I am typically admitted to they do 'purposeful hourly rounding' as the sign in my room to eloquently read. The nurses and/or CNA's came in every hour to take vital signs (temp., blood pressure, O2 stats) in addition to entering to administer my IV drugs, oral medications, etc. The traffic to my room was ridiculous but understandable.

Later in the evening I had a few visitors. My brother came with his two kiddos and my hubby came to stay the night. By this time I was starting to regain some strength, enough so to make a few trips to the bathroom alone and I even ate a light dinner. As night time approached I asked if I could have 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. My night nurses were very much in favor of this. It was not the best sleep I have ever had but compared to the previous nights events it was bliss.

Thursday, 9/8/11, began with a routine admittance and was worsened by an allergy. By Friday evening I was back to the status I had been admitted for. Hoping that Saturday would show improvement and we could start to look a release date. The one thing I was worried about prior to admittance, the Picc Line, was the only thing working.

Yay, Picc Line!

Thank you everyone for all your kind words. Sometimes we don't realize the full effect of our actions and/or words. Yours helped me get thru the night, gave me the strength to not break down in tears and to not let the feeling of hopelessness consume me. I have a new respect for social media. We don't know what post will make someone laugh or cry or renew their courage.

~Doodlin'

Pulmonary Hemoptysis= Hospitalization Day # Uno

Oh, the joys of the unexpected.

Last Thursday (9/8/11) I was caring out my morning rituals as normal. Which begins by taking long list of medications, eating breakfast, getting dressed and lastly taking the dogs outside. It was a nice morning and so I decided to hang out with the dogs in the backyard to get some fresh air. During that time I had a coughing episode, which is not unusual, that produced bloody mucus. As I kept coughing and spitting. Which is highly encouraged to get the mucus up and out of the lungs, more blood than mucus started to show up. This at first was not alarming as coughing for great lengthens at a time and with great veracity can cause a few broken blood vessels. In the amount of 2 hours I had coughed up a lot of blood and began to become very concerned. Concerned enough to place a call to my doctor.

My first level of response is always to call my doctor to find out if they feel going to urgent care or the ER is necessary. Typically, a trip to either is fruitless as they really don't know how to treat such a complicated disease unless its immediately life-threatening. After a few discussions, Dr. Cohen recommended coming into his clinic to be seen.

I immediately rushed out the door to make the 45 minutes drive to his office. Upon arrival he had a preliminary diagnoses of Pulmonary Hemoptysis, which was only further confirmed after his physical evaluation. There a different levels of Pulmonary Hemoptysis, which are characterized by the amount of blood being brought up and the circumstances surrounding the current health of the patient. In my case, Dr. Cohen felt that antibiotics were necessary and since I had literally just gotten off an oral 14-day prescription of Cipro, a stay in the hospital was warranted. Ugh!

Honestly, I was not surprised. My biggest concern was that I hadn't packed anything prior to rushing out the door. You see, I have a particular set of things that always accompany me to the hospital. Books, pillow, blanket, my own pj's, sports bra (this helps when male nurses/doctors have to evaluate the lungs and with modesty), Bible and my UGG boots for walking around the halls. Nurses always get a kick out of my room, as I make it as homey as possible. I was worried about getting all this stuff. Silly, yes, but it helps ease anxieties making me comfortable when I am alone and is my saving grace during difficult times. I immediately called the hubbs to begin arranging the logistics of my stay. Hubbs works for his parents for which I am grateful. Is step-dad was able fill-in for him for the remaining part of the work day so that he could accompany during the check-in process.

B and I checked in to the hospital about 1pm. Check-in can be the worst part of the entire stay. I had to have a Picc Line placed, x-rays, blood work, etc...... I hate Picc Lines. They freak me out. I have to have to take anxiety medication for it or I cry uncontrollably during the procedure. It's really all psychological as they do a great job in numbing the area and I feel no pain. Once they have the line placed they immediately begin infusing two different anitibiotics. The first was Zosyn and the second is Tobramycin to treat Pseudomonas which are the underlying cause of the Hemoptysis.

Picc Line preparations-anyone recognize what t-shirt I am wearing?

At first dosing of each antibiotic things appeared to be going smoothly. I was a bit tired but other than that I felt pretty good. B and I decided it was safe for him to return home to get a good nights sleep and to pack me some comforts for home. My mother was going to take Friday off to be with me so that B could finish out the work week (we need the $$$, sadly). B left around 8pm to make the 1hr trek home. I fell asleep and awoke around 11pm and would not sleep again for 24hrs.

When I woke I was shivering had a fever and my body hurt. The nurses pilled on about 3 or 4 warm blankets and gave me Tylenol. The Tylenol had no affect and shortly after I began vomiting. My joints began to swell and the on-call doctor probably had no idea what to do for me. They gave me Vicodin for the pain and anti-naseau med's thru my Picc line, all in addition to my continued antibiotic regimen. The best description I can give and did give was that I felt like I was being poisoned.

The battle continued all night. All night I was shivering uncontrollably causing my muscles to ache my joints to become swollen and painful. I was sweating from the fever and I was alone! I had no comforts of home since I didn't have a chance to pack and it was in the middle of night.

Hopelessness threatened me.....

~Doodlin'

Patient to caregiver and back again

As I grow older so do those around me and I am finding myself in quit a pickle. I have never been a caregiver. I am not a mother, I have never had to oversee care for a chronically ill parent or grandparent. I have always been the patient or the one receiving the care. My pickle is that I want to be the best caregiver I can be when and if the time arises yet I have little to no experience.

I have had some incredible caregivers. I am still lucky enough to have my mother and grandmother as two of the best caregivers in the world, if I don't say so myself! I have also had many outstanding nurses and doctors who have spend countless hours assisting.

From my perspective being a caregiver is at times is harder than being a patient. Caregivers are helpless most of the time, while the patient (if able) can make decisions about their health care to treat or ease the side affects of the illness. Caregivers are so crucial to the over-all well being of a patient, simply because of the non-medical support they provide.

In my case, my caregivers have all help in different ways, each caregiver has a different set of strengths and skills. For example, my Nana (grandmother) set of skills and strengths was to comfort. She would always come visit with yummy food that warms the insides and with a tender hug, kiss and even a lovely little song. Yes, a song! Nana would stay by my side even if I was sleeping, I can't even begin to verbalize how comforting waking up to a familiar face is in the mist of being ill. While my mom's strength was in directing traffic of sorts. She would make sure that I had what I needed when I needed it. She also dealt with the doctors, getting prescriptions, making sure I took all my medications and making sure things ran as smoothly as possible for me. She too would be there upon my waking  but often times she alot of hats to wear, like parenting my younger brother and ensuring all his needs were being met. Mom's of multiple children with whom one is ill are some of the strongest, bravest, determined and fierce woman out there, no joke.

About 4 years ago my mom was diagnosed with Thyroid cancer. The treatment was to remove the entire Thyroid and any surrounding glands if needed along with some oral medications of sorts. I had in my mind that I would walk every step of the way with her as she navigated the ruff waters. I went to a few doctors appointments and was there when she had the surgery. But I quickly realized that it is really difficult to make the transition from patient to caregiver. I have never had to care for my mom or assist her in making major medical decisions besides going for routine check-ups. I truly felt lost and had no idea how to help her or what to say to comfort her. I also think it was hard for my mom to transition from caregiver to patient. We as humans become so accustom to doing and managing things a certain way which makes change or transition difficult.

I pray I never have to become a caregiver to my mom or Nana or anyone I love but history along with time tells me that they are aging. While there is no way to anticipate the kind of care they will need or want I can begin to attempt to understand what makes a great caregiver and mentally try to become just as great a caregiver to them as they have been for me. I owe them that at the very very least.

I must learn to become a caregiver from the experiences of being a patient.

~Doodlin'