You can probably imagine the fact that I wanted to hit myself in the head when I woke up Wednesday August the 24th, for not making that marks on my body, when I thought once again the p&n had progressed upwards. You see it's not a steady feeling you can pinpoint (pun intended) on your body. It almost feels like it's not real. This is because you are feeling something that you are actually not feeling. The p&n are areas of your body that you actually do not feel, or feel different. But I will explain this in details later.
I went to work once again, but slowly I did start to feel alarmed. This was now the fourth day I was experiencing this and even though I was still positive that this was a result of the heavy lifting, I started to worry that I maybe suffered some permanent damage in stead of something temporary. And something that is progressing, even if I couldn't tell for sure, so slowly just couldn't be a very good thing.
Then I suddenly realized that I didn't get my shot for a while. I have been suffering from a vitamin B12 deficit for years now, and I require to get an injection every one or two months. And I hadn't been to the nurse for some months now to do so. Immediately I remembered (Dr. database, remember?) that a long period of B12 deficit can result in neurological and nerve related symptoms, just like the ones I was experiencing. Eureka! Of course, that must be it! So I immediately phoned my doctor's office and I could come and get one right away that afternoon.
I left home early to get my shot. I talked to the doctor's assistant, telling her my symptoms and asking her if she also thought this could be a result of the B12 deficit. She said that this was very well possible, but if I didn't trust it I should make an appointment with my actual doctor.
Well, I was positive, this must be it so the shot will make it all better soon. And I went home.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Day III
I woke up early on Tuesday August 23rd because I had gone to bed early that Monday evening, figuring that a little more bed rest would probably be the best thing.
First thing I noticed that Tuesday morning was that I was now certain that the p&n had intensified. And I could swear that they were expanding! It felt like they were now slowly creeping up my legs and arms, like a very slow moving army of tiny ants. I considered marking my legs and arms to document where the 'end' was at that time, so I had a way of comparing it in case it would remain to move. But for some reason I didn't. I guess in a way you are still in some kind of denial, I just kept figuring it would go away by itself.
I once again drove to work, having no further symptoms or problems and worked all day. Halfway through the day I did e-mail my girlfriend to tell her about the weird thing I was experiencing. She also thought it was a weird thing, but she is someone who doesn't panic much at all, so she probably also figured it was from the lifting, because I had fed that idea into her head.
In the evening I did start to get a little bit worried. It felt like it was increasing, and by now I thought it was taking a bit too long for my liking. I considered making a doctors appointment the next day, but because I had also been away from work sick two times already in the past six months, I figured I would wait to see if it would still be there in a couple of days.
I went to bed early again that day.
First thing I noticed that Tuesday morning was that I was now certain that the p&n had intensified. And I could swear that they were expanding! It felt like they were now slowly creeping up my legs and arms, like a very slow moving army of tiny ants. I considered marking my legs and arms to document where the 'end' was at that time, so I had a way of comparing it in case it would remain to move. But for some reason I didn't. I guess in a way you are still in some kind of denial, I just kept figuring it would go away by itself.
I once again drove to work, having no further symptoms or problems and worked all day. Halfway through the day I did e-mail my girlfriend to tell her about the weird thing I was experiencing. She also thought it was a weird thing, but she is someone who doesn't panic much at all, so she probably also figured it was from the lifting, because I had fed that idea into her head.
In the evening I did start to get a little bit worried. It felt like it was increasing, and by now I thought it was taking a bit too long for my liking. I considered making a doctors appointment the next day, but because I had also been away from work sick two times already in the past six months, I figured I would wait to see if it would still be there in a couple of days.
I went to bed early again that day.
Day II
Waking up on Monday August 22nd, even though the Pins and needles (p&n) appeared to have intensified (but I couldn't tell with 100% certainty due to the nature of those feelings), it didn't even alarm me enough to tell my girlfriend. This is remarkable, because normally I would even tell her when I had an aching hair. But I still figured it was from the heavy lifting, so I got in my car and drove the hour to work.
I worked as an IT Engineer for a large Dutch Television Facility provider. It had a very large building and since I assisted my colleagues on site, this required a lot of walking, including stairs. The p&n were clearer when I was using the limbs (so hands and feet) that were affected than when I was sitting down. Due to the many walks at my work, I was confronted by it all day long. It bothered me, but still didn't really alarm me.
Not least because I knew so many diseases and their symptoms. I didn't know of any diseases that caused this particular symptom, so I was still positive that I had bruised a nerve or something.
Even when I got home that day I didn't consider it important enough to tell my girlfriend.
I worked as an IT Engineer for a large Dutch Television Facility provider. It had a very large building and since I assisted my colleagues on site, this required a lot of walking, including stairs. The p&n were clearer when I was using the limbs (so hands and feet) that were affected than when I was sitting down. Due to the many walks at my work, I was confronted by it all day long. It bothered me, but still didn't really alarm me.
Not least because I knew so many diseases and their symptoms. I didn't know of any diseases that caused this particular symptom, so I was still positive that I had bruised a nerve or something.
Even when I got home that day I didn't consider it important enough to tell my girlfriend.
Day I
With my immune system getting a little less good than I was used to, I also slowly got rid of the hypochondria. I still had those fears, but I managed to keep them under control. Even when my heart skipped a beat (or 50), I managed to not panic. So at least something good came from it.
Sunday, August 21st 2016. My brother had just bought a new house and there was a lot of stuff like wood, curtains etc. still on the attic. He asked me if I could help him move it from there. As I have a fear of heights, he was on the attic (which you had to climb on/in) and handed me the stuff, so I lifted quite some weight that day. You can understand that after a day of doing that I was quite exhausted when I finally came home that Sunday.
I sat down behind my computer to make some music, at around 9pm. This is when I first noticed that my hands were tingling. It kind of felt like that feeling we all know when your hand is sleeping, but also not quite. It felt different. Also, it was both my hands, which I found interesting, but not yet alarming.
Then about an hour later, my feet started tingling as well. When you read about GBS, you will find the phrase 'Pins and needles (p&n)' a lot. All though this doesn't describe the actual feeling accurately, it's the closest you get because there simply are no words to describe exactly what you feel (or rather do not feel).
This is an example of where me being a walking medical database had an influence.
So now both my hands and both my feet were experiencing pins and needles. Had this happened 10 years prior, I immediately would have thought that I had something like a tumor or anything else that was terrible. Because the last couple of years I managed to get this under control I simply figured; Look, I lifted a great deal of heavy things from over my head, two flights of stairs down. I probably bruised something in my neck or back, it made perfect sense, I mean the timing was perfect, in a bad way, because I had an explanation. But no.
Sunday, August 21st 2016. My brother had just bought a new house and there was a lot of stuff like wood, curtains etc. still on the attic. He asked me if I could help him move it from there. As I have a fear of heights, he was on the attic (which you had to climb on/in) and handed me the stuff, so I lifted quite some weight that day. You can understand that after a day of doing that I was quite exhausted when I finally came home that Sunday.
I sat down behind my computer to make some music, at around 9pm. This is when I first noticed that my hands were tingling. It kind of felt like that feeling we all know when your hand is sleeping, but also not quite. It felt different. Also, it was both my hands, which I found interesting, but not yet alarming.
Then about an hour later, my feet started tingling as well. When you read about GBS, you will find the phrase 'Pins and needles (p&n)' a lot. All though this doesn't describe the actual feeling accurately, it's the closest you get because there simply are no words to describe exactly what you feel (or rather do not feel).
This is an example of where me being a walking medical database had an influence.
So now both my hands and both my feet were experiencing pins and needles. Had this happened 10 years prior, I immediately would have thought that I had something like a tumor or anything else that was terrible. Because the last couple of years I managed to get this under control I simply figured; Look, I lifted a great deal of heavy things from over my head, two flights of stairs down. I probably bruised something in my neck or back, it made perfect sense, I mean the timing was perfect, in a bad way, because I had an explanation. But no.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Introduction IV
The year I turned 39 (2016), was a bad health year for me. If you have read my entire story, you will understand in retrospect that this is the understatement of the year, but also before the 'big event' I had all kinds of small and large problems. Things like colds lining up, like the next one started before the former one was even gone. I had respiratory problems coming and going, leading in to once again an infection which luckily was quickly under control.
But then I got laryngitis (a throat infection). I've had a sore throat many times in the past, even so bad that I actually thought I had had laryngitis before. Well, if you have had laryngitis you will understand me when I say, when you have it, you will know it! It developed so quickly, over the course of like 3 or 4 days and it turned so bad that I couldn't swallow anymore. That was a frightening experience to me. So I went to my buddy the doctor again,
I'm going to name him Dr. Freeze in the rest of my story. Partly because it's a literal translation from his last name in Dutch, and because i always found him cold as ice.
Dr. Freeze gave me another batch of antibiotics, which worked miraculously fast. Within three days the infection was completely gone. I seriously thought I had caught a break for the first time in a long, long time. Little did I know that it was this laryngitis which was the trigger for something much, much worse in the near future.
But then I got laryngitis (a throat infection). I've had a sore throat many times in the past, even so bad that I actually thought I had had laryngitis before. Well, if you have had laryngitis you will understand me when I say, when you have it, you will know it! It developed so quickly, over the course of like 3 or 4 days and it turned so bad that I couldn't swallow anymore. That was a frightening experience to me. So I went to my buddy the doctor again,
I'm going to name him Dr. Freeze in the rest of my story. Partly because it's a literal translation from his last name in Dutch, and because i always found him cold as ice.
Dr. Freeze gave me another batch of antibiotics, which worked miraculously fast. Within three days the infection was completely gone. I seriously thought I had caught a break for the first time in a long, long time. Little did I know that it was this laryngitis which was the trigger for something much, much worse in the near future.
Introduction III
When I got into my thirties, my immune system appeared to suffer some cracks here and there. I honestly have no idea if this is related to what happened to me eventually, but I find it worth mentioning nevertheless. If I give you the story, I want to give you the entire story.
I know it's also a known part of getting older, but I simply wasn't used to it. This also made me not take these things very seriously. Yes, every shot of pain made me think I was dying, but the cold and the flu didn't bother me. The irony, I know.
When I was about 35, forgive me for not knowing the exact time anymore, I suffered my first pneumonia. It was caught quite fast and with some antibiotics I recovered quite fast. The lasting symptoms like fatigue didn't bother me too much at that time.
But then when I was 38, I suffered a severe double pneumonia, together with a week of fever of a 104 (40,5). It took the antibiotics a long time to conquer whatever it was that was attacking my body. The aftermath was even worse, I was so tired and weak that it took months before I was working at full force again. Thankfully my employer at the time and the company doctor did everything in their power to assist me in the best way they could. No pressure was put on me, to the extend that I wanted to start working again sooner than they deemed me fit.
Then I turned 39...
I know it's also a known part of getting older, but I simply wasn't used to it. This also made me not take these things very seriously. Yes, every shot of pain made me think I was dying, but the cold and the flu didn't bother me. The irony, I know.
When I was about 35, forgive me for not knowing the exact time anymore, I suffered my first pneumonia. It was caught quite fast and with some antibiotics I recovered quite fast. The lasting symptoms like fatigue didn't bother me too much at that time.
But then when I was 38, I suffered a severe double pneumonia, together with a week of fever of a 104 (40,5). It took the antibiotics a long time to conquer whatever it was that was attacking my body. The aftermath was even worse, I was so tired and weak that it took months before I was working at full force again. Thankfully my employer at the time and the company doctor did everything in their power to assist me in the best way they could. No pressure was put on me, to the extend that I wanted to start working again sooner than they deemed me fit.
Then I turned 39...
Introduction II
Ironically, because I hardly ever got sick, I developed hypochondria. Hypochondria (or officially: Hypochondriasis) is the fear of getting, or having, a serious (mostly lethal in my case) disease, disorder etc. You might wonder what on earth this has to do with the main subject of my Blog (GBS), but trust me, in my case this matters.
Whenever I felt a pinch in my stomach, short chest pains, or anything I couldn't (or even could) explain, I was positive that something was very, very wrong and nobody could tell me otherwise. This is also the time I started Googling for symptoms. I can tell you from experience that this is not always a very well thing to do, because you always appear to find the worst possible outcome, while often your fear is based on nothing. Not always, because in my case you will find that sometimes it does indeed come in hand.
One of the 'symptoms' of hypochondria, or at least for me, is that you look everything up on the Internet. As a side effect of doing so, over time you become a medical professional. At least you tend to think so and so do people around you. Even though I can not emphasize enough that you should always visit a real doctor, and I have no official medical education, sometimes people would ask me 'I have these symptoms, what could it be?'. Often I knew what it could be, but I would always suggest them to go to a doctor.
Because of the fear, amplified by the findings on the Internet, I developed panic attacks and hyperventilation. I've been to my doctor over a hundred times (not exaggerated) and in the end he didn't even look at me anymore because he assumed it was another one of my episodes. Now I can understand this, but if any practitioner is reading this, please promise me that no matter how hard it can be, to treat each visit as a new one. Because my story will prove to you that one out of a hundred visits can be the one that is serious. And in my case it was very, very serious.
Whenever I felt a pinch in my stomach, short chest pains, or anything I couldn't (or even could) explain, I was positive that something was very, very wrong and nobody could tell me otherwise. This is also the time I started Googling for symptoms. I can tell you from experience that this is not always a very well thing to do, because you always appear to find the worst possible outcome, while often your fear is based on nothing. Not always, because in my case you will find that sometimes it does indeed come in hand.
One of the 'symptoms' of hypochondria, or at least for me, is that you look everything up on the Internet. As a side effect of doing so, over time you become a medical professional. At least you tend to think so and so do people around you. Even though I can not emphasize enough that you should always visit a real doctor, and I have no official medical education, sometimes people would ask me 'I have these symptoms, what could it be?'. Often I knew what it could be, but I would always suggest them to go to a doctor.
Because of the fear, amplified by the findings on the Internet, I developed panic attacks and hyperventilation. I've been to my doctor over a hundred times (not exaggerated) and in the end he didn't even look at me anymore because he assumed it was another one of my episodes. Now I can understand this, but if any practitioner is reading this, please promise me that no matter how hard it can be, to treat each visit as a new one. Because my story will prove to you that one out of a hundred visits can be the one that is serious. And in my case it was very, very serious.
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