Congratulations! You’ve are having the ‘gold standard’ imaging with relation to pheochromocytomas and paragangliomas. The Gallium 68, I have had many of these scans, all the way from clinical trial phase to PRRT treatment.
I figured it’s time to lay it all out so that you know exactly what to expect. I will be focusing on a practical overview of your day. I don’t know about you but – I find it helpful and comforting to be prepared. As we all know, the best way to live with cancer is to focus on what we can control.
So first, what is a gallium 68 scan and why would one have this type of imaging in comparison to let’s say… a standard CT or MRI?
There are many different types of imaging, the reason for ordering one vs the other is typically based on WHY it’s being ordered. Is it diagnostic? Prognostic? Someone who’s seeking an initial diagnosis and someone who’s living with the disease and having follow up will have different requirements.
I’ll keep this as simple as possible and focus on the Gallium 68, it’s just in order to advocate for yourself – it’s good to know the basics behind this. Structural imaging like CT and MRI are used to view the structure of the tumors, whereas functional imaging (like PET and MIBG) are used to see metabolic activity.
I know I said I’d keep it simple, we’re getting there I promise – gallium is considered the gold standard BECAUSE it combines both structural and functional imaging! How? Well, they use a PET/CT scanning machine to combine both modalities. See, they inject you with a radioactive tracer which makes them able to measure the output of hormones that the pheo/paras are producing. Then at the end of the nuclear imaging, they do a traditional CT to see the structure as well. It’s the best of both worlds, IF you’re receptive.
Not all pheo/paras are Gallium receptive, that’s why there are different types of radioactive tracers. Some pheo/paras can be gallium receptive but MIBG negative, and vice versa. Then there are the lucky bunch like me, where the tumors light up on ALL the scans. Which offers more option for treatment. Still with me?
When in the diagnostic period before surgery, it’s important to do a combination of imaging to know which radioactive tracers you are receptive to and for them to gather as much data as they can. This can later be used for followup and for someone like me with recurrence, it can be used as treatment options.
Gallium 68: what to expect
You may be experiencing some scanxiety, or maybe just type A and wondering how to prepare. Is it more than 1 day? Do you have to go back more than once? Do you have to fast? You will be pleased to hear that out of all the nuclear medicine scans – this is one of the simplest.
There’s no special eating or drinking requirements (yay!) and you do not have to go more than 1 day. Everything is all done at once, unlike the MIBG which is multiple days. From start to finish, it’s approx 3 hours. The actual imaging portion is probably about 30-45mins depending on your tumor burden and if they need repeat imaging. The short answer is no, there’s no prep for this scan. But it’s not the same for everyone, so I’m going to give you the real deal. Let’s walk through the day:
Is there side effects?
This isn’t talked about a lot, because it’s said there are no side effects or reactions when it comes to the radioactive tracer. However, there are many patients who are sensitive to any type of chemicals without it being considered an allergy. You may not go into anaphylaxis like an iodine allergy, but if you have MCAS/MCAD, your body can have a reaction. It’s also possible you can have a mast cell response but not be diagnosed, like me for the last several years. Keep reading, I’ll show you how to be as prepared as you can.
Expect the Unexpected:
If you’re someone who typically has reactions to meds or procedures, this would be a good time to discuss with your doctors taking some benadryl in advance and afterward. If you’re on steroids to manage your AI, it may be a good time to do a small updose to prep for the stress your body may endure. If you have mast cell disease, you definitely want to prep as you would for any procedure. Do as you normally would, follow your protocols.
Practical advice for meds would be to have a portable medication case with some anti nausea meds, ativan, heartburn med, an anti-inflammatory, and any medications you may have to up-dose with *I had to take an anti nausea, heartburn, and anti-inflammatory afterward*
I linked above how to prep for an MIBG scan if you have a known iodine allergy, I think it’s important to know how to prepare for ANY procedure or imaging with rare disease. Which is why I created my own ‘medical resume‘ and linked the emergency protocols for mast cells, adrenal insufficiency, and showed how to create your own. You can find it here. Feel free to share it because it can truly be life saving in certain situations – think of it as your voice when you don’t have one
How to use a medical resume:
ALWAYS show your medical resume to anyone who’s in charge of your care. It doesn’t matter if you think “oh I won’t need it, I’m just here for a simple test”. From experience, it’s normally the simplest of tests or medications that have precipitated my worst reactions and emergencies.
I bring it up calmly and mention that it’s never happened to where I’ve needed major intervention. I then explain the importance of understanding the possibility of a crisis event. I highlight where I cannot be given epinephrine because of my pheos, and I show the necessary protocols.
examples of where I’ve used my medical resume recently:
Getting vaccinated, I show it to whoever is administering the medicine
Emergency: triage nurse, ER nurse, radiology, etc
All forms of imaging where I’m receiving an injection
Let’s walk through the day:
My appt was at 12:30pm, we arrived at the nuclear imaging dept and checked in. They will ask you to change into the lovely blue gown right away and await your name to be called.
Someone from the nuclear imaging dept will come to get you, where they will bring you into a room to do your weight, height, and insert your IV. It’s at this point they will do a questionnaire about your allergies, medications you take, previous surgeries and treatments, it’s pretty detailed right down to your mensuration cycle. This is the perfect opportunity to show off your medical resume! Since it has a detailed view of all their questions they will ask. Then you can casually segway into the protocols. Easy!
It’s time to go into the radioactive haven, this is a room with comfy reclining chairs where you will get your injection. They keep the radioactive materials here, this is where you will spend most of your time. They will wrap you like a burrito with freshly warmed blankies, it’s really quite wonderful. I bring ‘gallium’ my little scan mascot. As well as my ‘hospital bag’ which is filled with goodies I’d need like my kindle, hand cream, headphones, phone charger, gum, water, etc.
Once you’re settled and the radioactive tracer has arrived, (yes, it gets shipped in specifically for YOU) they prepare the injection, flush your IV, and now administer your medicine. I’m not saying this will happen to everyone with pheo/para, but… my tumors react IMMEDIATELY as the product is injected
I get a tight, hot, squeezing pain in the middle of my chest around my sternum. The reason I mention this is because the first times it happened, I thought I was dying and it made me incredibly anxious. Now that I know it will happen, I am prepared to deep breathe through it and always have a guided meditation ready to help calm my body.
It passes pretty quickly, I’d say within 3-4 minutes. They will bring you the barium liquid to drink with some water at this point. You will have to do this more than once. Barium is a contrast agent that will help them visualize the gastrointestinal tract. It’s yucky and can taste like orange or poison berries. I was pleasantly surprised to see that my hospital updated their formula! Not only did it taste good, but I only had to drink 2 small shooters of it. Hopefully this is the case for you!
Once the barium prep is done, you will be told to empty your bladder at this point and go get scanned! This is a funny detail but it surprised me the first time too. The bathroom in the radioactive unit has a big lead door, just like all the rooms. However they often have it disabled so you can’t shut the bathroom door. They have this portable rolling door that blocks anyone from seeing you, but it’s still a peculiar setup and made me uncomfortable the first time. The discomfort has passed and I still manage to do pre-scan bathroom dance parties just fine.
Unfortunately I don’t have photos of the imaging room, because it’s quick to go in and lay down right away. They will lay you down on the narrow table, and then slide a foam support underneath your legs (make sure you ask if they don’t). They will secure your arms so that you’re not fighting to stay still and comfortable the whole time. There’s no special breathing exercises or loud noises with a gallium scan. It’s really quite relaxing and I sleep most of it. You just can’t move of course. I’d recommend closing your eyes right away, I keep them closed. However this type of imaging is very open, it’s not claustrophobic like an MRI. You could actually have someone in the room with you pre-covid days. They just have to leave the last 2 mins because of the CT scan they perform at the end.
And that’s it! They will remove your IV, and you can do your victory walk/dance. I was too tired to do a dance, so I managed a rocky walk out of the hospital. This is the end of the imaging portion but it’s not the end of your feeling like crap (lol) for lack of a better word.
When we think of after-care we think bubble baths and rest, and yes that may be some of it depending on how you feel. However it’s important to be prepared for your body’s mood swings, pain management, and a plan to recover over the next 2-3 days. These radioactive tracers they inject into us find their way to our tumors, so despite them saying we won’t react… our tumors are still filled with a substance that makes them more activated. That’s not accounting for our mast cell response either, so you may have to follow with the appropriate medication response as well. You may feel inflammation in your lymph nodes, a tightness in your neck, tension and muscle spasms may increase, and pain in the abdomen. This is how my body responds anyway, so it’s more important than ever to flush it out by hydrating hydrating hydrating some more. You may want to do some journaling, netflix binging, or anything that allows you to get that sh*t out. I’m personally writing this blog to do just that – and to help all my zebra friends, but you know whatevs.
I like to finish my day with some comfort food, but I’ll warn you – if you eat something with tyramine or histamine, don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s not the time in my opinion to make matters worse, so if you can eat something comforting but not tumor aggravating – I’d highly recommend lol.
Don’t be like me and hulk out by throwing your quesadilla, swear crying, and then have to switch pants with your husband to get relief from the belly pain. I have now prepared you for most unexpected events. I wish you an uneventful and pain free scan!
You totally got this my zebra friend, you are prepared now and just have one job: stay fabulous!
Follow along with my social media for daily content @pheovsfabulous
This information is for educational purposes only and should not substitute the advice of your doctor(s) and medical team because they have in-depth knowledge of your medical history and current situation.
I’m sure you’ve heard this phrase, probably hundreds of times. Although it is great advice – what does it actually mean?!
There’s a lot of different ways this phrase is interpreted, most of us associate it with rest. When your body is sending you cues to slow down or some time for self care. That’s all true, but what about all the other important aspects of it?
There’s a lot more to it than you’d think. Most of us with chronic disease are in tune with what’s normal and what’s alarming.
“Your body will let you know”
Most people when recalling a diagnosis story, they’ll tell you that golden advice. They will say “your body will let you know, you just have to listen to it” so what does that really mean? What are we listening to or looking for? Do we run to the doctor each time we have a funny pain?
Well that depends, first, you need to get to know your body.
“no one knows your body better than you”
Not all of us are in tune with our bodies, especially if you’ve never had a major health condition. We can brush off a lot of symptoms because we’re unsure of their importance. So I’m going to give you some tips and explain a bit more of what to be looking for
In order to get to know your body, you have to start listening to it. If you have a normal every day pain level of 2, take note of that. If you’re someone who has no pain at all, take note of that too. If you’re a woman, take note of what your breasts feel like, on and off your period. Get to know your smells, if you normally don’t have a perspiration smell or do. Do you often get headaches or is it unusual for you? Do your eyes twitch when you’re tired, or all the time? Is your skin very dry? Always or just sometimes? How’s your mental state? Are you a very anxious person or very calm? Always tired or full of energy?
These are just random examples, but you get the idea. We have to get a baseline idea of what our bodies normally do in order to know when it’s giving us cues. Or in some cases, alarm bells.
It’s pretty normal for most people to have the odd symptom here and there, it’s typically nothing to be alarmed about.
When I start to become more alert is when I experience a new symptom that I’ve never had before or haven’t had for a very long time. I take note, and I follow it to see if it’s getting worse or becoming consistent.
I break down the urgency by persistent or consistent. If you’re experiencing the same symptom over and over again, that’s when your body is really trying to tell you something.
If I’m experiencing a symptom that’s worsening, that’s when I’m making a trip to the doctor.
Why is it important to listen to your body?
If not you, then who will?
Going back to when people are diagnosed, later when they recount their story, they remember certain cues or things that were off. They recall things their body was doing that perhaps didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time. I can’t tell you when something is urgent, because everyone is different. I can tell you to listen and try to judge with the best of your knowledge.
I can also tell you that if something impairs your daily life or capabilities, it’s not to be ignored.
I’ll give you some examples of things I personally take note of and how I deal with them.
If my headaches become more frequent, I start to take note. It’s not for nothing, but it can be due to lack of sleep, or stress. If they become more frequent and severe, that’s when I’ll bring it up at my appointment.
Energy levels and fatigue: if I’m sleeping well, and doing all the right things – yet I’m still exhausted… I’ll take note of it.
Perspiration: if it changes or has a different smell, I take note of it. Hormones can change the way your body smells, so it’s good to know the differences.
Abdominal pain: There can be so many different types of pain, I for one experience pain on a daily basis for numerous reasons. So I take note of the level, the location, and the frequency. Is it linked to an activity? A food? Is it the same pain? How would I label it?
Skin changes: I used to think this wasn’t a big deal. “My skin is just dry because of winter”, or “I just have dry skin”. That may sometimes be the case, yes, but I’ve also had major skin changes to alert me of my thyroid changing, and my cortisol levels depleting. Many issues in our body lead to a hormone imbalance, so it’s important to be aware of the trends.
Hair loss: it’s normal to lose a few strands of hair in your brush, and in the shower. However when you’re losing clumps, getting bald spots, and it just falls out without brushing or washing, it’s a cause for concern.
Brain fog: some of us can get a bit foggy when we’re overwhelmed or not sleeping enough. However, brain fog is also a major symptom of many illnesses. It can also be caused by medications. For me personally, I take note and try to link it to a specific cause so I can deal with it IF possible.
Bloating: this can be a major issue for some of us, it can be something that needs to modified in your diet. That’s the first thing I try to take note of by trying to link it to a food intolerance. Next I will make note of the severity, does it happen after eating? Does it happen out of no where? Is it painful? Does anything help it?
Mood changes: first thing I ask myself is if it falls under my normal reaction or trends. I label the feeling, try to link it to something, and if not I ask myself if it’s related to lack of self care. If it’s really an irrational random reaction, I take note because it’s typically linked to something more important.
I could probably go on for a while with the types of symptoms I feel, but you get the picture. First take note of what it is, then try to keep an eye on the trends. Frequency, severity, and description. If you’re someone with a lot of different symptoms, it’s best to take note of the ones that stick around or are particularly painful.
Once you have your baseline of what’s ‘normal’ to you, you can then start listening for the alarm bells and cues.
Remember, often it IS a gentle reminder to take it easy, slow down, get some rest. However the only way to know is to be in tune with your body, that’s when you can begin to really listen to what it’s trying to tell you.
When I make note of all of these things, I generally try to make changes in my control to see if anything helps. If nothing changes or it becomes worse, I will talk to my doctor, get some labs done, and see what kind of plan we can come up with based on the results.
You can read how to best prepare for a doctor’s appointment here.
Sending love, unicorn magic, and a whole lot of fabulous your way 🤍✨
You may have heard this term before, maybe even more so recently. Maybe it’s happened to you, it’s not something new, but rather something that’s being acknowledged and talked about more.
So what is medical gaslighting?
(gaslighting) — the repeated denial of someone’s reality in an attempt to invalidate or dismiss them — is a form of emotional abuse.
(Medical) gaslighting happens when health-care professionals downplay or blow off symptoms you know you’re feeling and instead try to convince you they’re caused by something else—or even that you’re imagining them.
It can sometimes be tricky to identify when it’s happening, sometimes it’s a clear refusal to treat or acknowledge a patient’s symptoms. Sometimes they will acknowledge the symptoms but not want to treat you. However, it doesn’t always happen through words. Some examples of non verbal can happen through: prolonged silence, a condescending sigh, sarcasm, a tone of disbelief or disapproval. None of which will be noted in your medical file, only imprinted on your heart and in your mind. When replaying the events, and asked “well what did they say?” You may not be able to recount a time that they ever outright told you that you’re over-exaggerating, only you will have felt the dismissal through those non verbal communications. You will leave with no answers, more questions than when you began.
After this happens to us, we often leave questioning our own reality regarding our condition, which can lead us to not wanting to talk about the severity our symptoms anymore, or at all. Leading to a prolonged diagnosis, and danger to our ongoing health.
Which leads me to why I’m speaking out about it. Most of you know me for being an advocate for rare cancer, and more so, always having a positive outlook or spin on tough situations.
Talking about a tough situation doesn’t make me less positive or weaken our strength, it empowers us with the ability to move forward with our same positive outlook. I don’t want any one situation to disable my ability to speak for myself, advocate for myself, or cripple me with fear. For quite some time, this was the case. The moment I sensed it was happening to me, I would just freeze. I couldn’t speak, I’d instantly get emotional, and I would be filled with fear that I’d be dismissed and get sicker all over again. I wouldn’t want to repeat the events so I too would diminish the severity of my symptoms.
Why? before I knew what the term ‘medical gaslighting’ meant, before I even heard of it, it happened to me for years unknowingly. My clear symptoms being blown off as anxiety by my specialist is what led me to receiving an incurable advanced stage diagnosis of metastatic pheochromocytoma.
I’ve come a long way from that period, and I’ve used it to learn how to fiercely advocate for myself. To know what type of care I’m entitled to, and to know my rights when it comes to my health. Sometimes, it just takes ONE situation to make you feel like you’ve gone backwards. By sharing, this is me taking the step to go forwards and hopefully empower you to feel the same.
I just want to be clear, my current team of doctors and specialists are I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-E. The problem is, during an emergency, you can’t always wait to see your specialist or main doctor. Sometimes, we require emergency care…
My chest is heavy as I’m writing this, I didn’t realize how hard this was going to be. Regardless…
I’m going to share about what happened a couple of nights ago when we had to go to emergency.
I was having a great day, I felt better than I had in a long time. I was relaxed and going to work on a DIY wreath. I suddenly felt a ‘pinched nerve’ type feeling in the right side of my neck. So I decided to just relax for the night and watch a show. I got extremely weak and felt overcome. Then a sudden headache hit me. I wasn’t sure if I was going into some type of flare, so I took the necessary medications when that happens. Still no change, so I went to pick up my phone and record a ‘story’ post to say I wasn’t feeling well. When suddenly I noticed that my eye looked strange. One looked enlarged and had a weird glare, my pupil was misshaped, my eyes didn’t match! I was sure it was the video, so I took a photo. I had never experienced this before, I asked my husband to look and he confirmed one pupil was much larger than the other. I went in the bright light of the bathroom, both pupils returned to a smaller size. I stepped back out into the dim lit living room to re-check, and they then went two different sizes again. Then they just stayed like that. Of course I knew this could be a number of things, but since I had no history of it happening, a sudden change like this is worrisome.
I sat there weighing my options:
Go only if it gets worse (potentially too late if it’s a precursor to a neurological event like a stroke or aneurysm) OR…
Go right now while I can still speak clearly for myself and don’t require emergent complex care
When I go to emergency, like most chronic disease patients, it has to be for something BIG. Something that I have no power to treat myself, something that can’t wait until tomorrow. It often takes multiple people and specialists to convince me to even go.
This was a time where I certainly couldn’t know the seriousness of the event myself. I also couldn’t risk going to sleep and waiting to see my doctor. My thought was: I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t go get checked and it gets worse before tomorrow. Put on your big girl pants and GO, Miranda.
So that’s what I did, I grabbed my hospital ‘go bag’ and all of my supplies needed to speak for myself if I’m unable. My medical ID bracelet, medical resume which outlines my conditions, allergies, and life saving emergency room protocols in the event I go into crisis. We began mechanically preparing for something we’ve done hundreds of time. Knowing that it can either go extremely well, or….. the opposite
My local emergency rooms have been experiencing extreme understaffing, and even close the emerg 3-4 times a week. Even before covid, I’ve not had the best experiences. So we made the decision to drive 1 hour from home to a hospital that I had never been. A blank slate, I felt good about it, and knew it would not be filled with people and covid cases since it’s a very rural hospital.
We arrived to an empty parking lot, an empty waiting room, not a soul in sight. At first we thought this was a good thing, no worries of getting sick or having to be isolated. Low wait times, and all of the care directed towards me since I’m the only one there. High five!
I was triaged right away, my husband who is my primary caregiver couldn’t be with me due to covid. So I explained everything that had happened in detail, and added that I have a very rare cancer with some secondary conditions. All information is relevant when visiting emergency, it’s not up to me to decide what they need to get a clear picture. So I give them the basic facts needed for this visit and let them ask the rest.
I was immediately called, to where I was met by a nurse who immediately told me to go into the exam room. I asked if she had been informed of my emergency protocols that the triage nurse took copy of, *if I am going to have to be alone in a room without supervision in a hospital with no one around… for my own safety I have to know that if I’d go into crisis, they know how to respond properly. This is something I have to bring up any time I will be alone, or when I’m at higher risk of crisis. Since I can’t be treated with an epi-pen and there’s conflicting conditions, it’s not something I can choose to leave out.
She responded with sarcasm that No, she was not informed in the 30 seconds it took to call my name.
I laughed and replied that I get it, my bad! I then proceeded to explain WHY it’s necessary for all of us to be on the same page and that my protocols are designed for emergency room settings by my specialists to outline how to treat my specific case IF any of the following happen.
She cut me off mid sentence and said “I REALLY don’t care” and stormed out of the room. Leaving my husband and I to stand there and wonder… is this how the rest of the night will be?
He instantly reassured me “well, she’s just one person! The doctor will be nice” and I was just grateful that he could be there to be the one to respond IF anything should change with my health. He has all of my injections and medications with him at all times, and knows better than anyone the signs of when to use them.
The doctor came in without introducing herself, and began the norm of asking about why I was there. I started with my eyes, being the main reason I had come in. And then followed with the precipitating symptoms that made the eye issue more worrisome, the neck and head pain. I began having trouble explaining myself, so my husband added the time of when it all began to help me out. She abruptly looks at my husband and says “so she can’t speak for herself? You’re here because she can’t speak on her own? You’re here to speak on her behalf?”
Not that I need to defend this, but yes. My husband literally is there for when I can’t speak for myself. Stress makes it sometimes impossible for me to get a clear speech, I can be fine one moment and then unable to speak or think clearly the next. It’s happened many many times, and it’s the most terrifying thing to happen to a person. Especially when surrounded by strangers.
I then spoke for myself, answering to why he is there. Explaining what I tried to explain to the nurse. I was preparing for the chance that if I had to be kept for observation, they would understand the severity in which my health can change. From one second to the next, which is why it’s essential for everyone treating me to read and understand the protocols. IF anything were to happen, it needs to be decided within seconds. Those seconds are what will make the difference between life and death.
Rather than asking me more about it or if it’s happened before, she replied by saying “so then we can do that for you. He doesn’t have to be here, if anything changes we are capable of knowing if you can’t speak. Or do you think we aren’t capable?”
I could already know by the clipped tone, sarcasm, and tension in the room that I was no longer comfortable. This is the very beginnings of my exam, and we haven’t even begun to speak about WHY I am there. I didn’t feel confident in the surroundings, if you put yourself in my shoes. I have a rare condition that’s already often misunderstood, and require a basic level of understanding in order to be safe. If this level is not met, I am not being left in the care of people who are responsible for my life.
I didn’t want to argue, so to avoid putting fuel on the fire, I calmly explained that I’m not questioning their capability. It’s just if I’m alone in a room, and it happens within seconds, in the event I’m unable to speak, logically I can’t ask for help. I can’t call for assistance, so yes, my husband IS in fact there to speak for me in the event that I cannot.
What happened next is what truly caught me off guard and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stay there should I absolutely need to.
I wanted to get back to the point of why I came to emergency, and have a proper exam for my eyes. So I redirected the conversation and said “can I tell you why I’m here?” She threw down her clipboard and replied “I HOPE you know why you’re here, they woke me up in the middle of the night for this!”
In that moment, I lost all hope for a decent exchange. I was made to feel that I was inconveniencing everyone, that my issue clearly didn’t warrant an emergency. I pushed through my inner voice telling me to just leave, and reminded myself that if I leave without so much as an opinion I will be right where I started. I will have to re-do this at another emerg, and I have a right to proper care. I reminded myself of what I preach, and decided I won’t let this stop me from what I came to do. Ask for help, receive care from the people who are there for that very reason.
At this point she began a basic neuro exam, repeating the questions about what brought me in. Each time she repeated her question, it was said in a more condescending way. (Non verbal cues) she began mixing the order of what I had told her. The neck pain, followed by the sudden headache, and then the pupil dilated. I corrected the order, to which she replied “so you had a headache and you took a Tylenol and it got all better? You took an Advil? A Tylenol? A motrin? What did you take?!”(No where did I say I took anything for my headache) “okay so then your headache wasn’t bad enough to take a Tylenol AND it went away?”
No, I just don’t typically take TYLENOL for my type of headaches. I take a steroid or an antihistamine depending on what type of headache I think it is. This exchange continued on for a bit, the accusatory tone, the trip me up questioning. All of which I endured to get a proper response about why I had come.
My husband patiently waited to interject and let her know that I’ve had two previous strokes. Which is why we found it of urgency to come in and get this checked. We wouldn’t think of coming to the hospital unless it’s an EMERGENCY.
She didn’t seem to find it very concerning, instead she asked me “well why isn’t THAT in your chart then, if you’ve had a stroke, wouldn’t you include it in here?”
I was caught off guard and stunned, so he replied for me. “It happened before her adrenaline was controlled, before she was diagnosed” I always include my most current conditions, because a lot has happened and I can’t fit them all on one page, I don’t think I could fit them in one book let alone a page.
I went along with the touch your nose then my finger game, walked a straight line, and ‘passed the exam’.
She then began to finally explain that they don’t do labs at night, she can’t take my blood, she can’t do a scan, they don’t do anything in the night hours. They are there for emergencies only. A-ha, finally. The confirmation that I am not by their standard an ‘emergency’. Okay, see ya!
But then ….“even if I DID do a scan, it won’t tell me anything because you’re not symptomatic anymore”
Me: “okay, so… if there’s nothing we can do, do I just go home?”
Doctor: “well, we can keep you to observe you to see if it happens again”
Me: “okay and if it does…, that’s when we would do tests and a scan?”
Doctor: “well maybe, MAYBE in the morning”
Me: “so if it DOES happen again, what would you do?”
Doctor: “well like I said we will just monitor you and see if it does”
(Still unclear as to what that will achieve if they’re unable to do blood work or imaging)
Doctor: “I mean you’re fine now, your neuro exam is fine, you’re not having the symptoms anymore”
Me: “okay so I can just go home then? If there’s nothing, I can monitor myself and go to a hospital if it changes?”
At this point she’s said I’m fine more than once, made me feel I’m there for nothing, that there’s nothing they can do at their facility to look further into it. It’s not a guarantee that they will do anything further even when they ARE able to. So the logical conclusion is that I go home and wait for something more to happen and seek care IF it does. If not, see one of my doctors in regular clinic hours.
The doctor then says “okay, well I’ll give you two some time to decide what YOU would like to do”
My husband and I are sitting there looking at each other with the same thought, why are WE (the patient) being told to decide what should happen? Is it to not be liable if something does in fact happen tonight? Either way, at this point you couldn’t have paid me to stay in their care. So I got dressed, and we firmly decided to go home and sort out another plan of action if we could make it through the next 4-5 hours till the doctors open up.
When things changed…
She returned into my room, me fully dressed, standing ready to leave. I thanked her for her time, and proceeded to explain I’d feel safer being at home and will go to a bigger hospital if the symptoms return.
She was completely stunned, which surprised us, now her whole demeanour changed, her mindset, her outlook on my current ‘condition’. She began back peddling and referring to me as a stroke patient. (What?!) she never once mentioned the risk of stroke, even though that’s EXACTLY why I came in the first place.
The entire time I had been there, I was made to question why I was there. That I wasn’t an emergency, not even a brief talk about what could have caused it. The entire exchange was bizarre, and downplayed to the point where of course it made more sense for me to go home and seek an alternate opinion.
The very same doctor then began to speak with more urgency about how I can be fine at this moment, but the same ‘neurological’ event that brought me in can happen again and again until POW! ‘The big one’ happens. Referring to mini strokes and then a large stroke. To which maybe it will be too late to go to the hospital.
Stunned, confused, and curious, I asked: “so…. If I stayed, and you monitor me, and even if the ‘big one’ happens, what would you do?”
Doctor: “well we would still have to ambulate you to the other hospital that could treat you (an hour away where we live). But I still wouldn’t send my stroke patients there! If I had a choice, I’d send them to the civic” (by which she means a larger teaching hospital in a different province) but since it’s a different province, I can’t do that. So I’d have to send you to the other hospital”
Me: “okay… well, our home is much closer to that hospital compared to here. We are just minutes away VS the hour it would take for you to get me there. So for me it still makes more sense to be home, and that way we can make a choice depending on the severity whether we ambulate there or jump in the car to the civic across the bridge”
Doctor: “if you stay here we can monitor you and maybe do a scan in the morning, I see you’re allergic to ‘dye’ (meaning my life threatening allergy to iodine) but I mean if we need to do a CT under emergency we will ‘just do it’
Me: “ummm, you can’t just ‘do it’ when someone has a life threatening allergy to iodine. This is is one of the reasons I’m safer at home. If you were to administer iodine even by error, you can’t give me an epi pen when I go into anaphylaxis. THIS is what I tried to explain in the protocols earlier, to you AND your nurse”
Out of curiosity, I then asked “what if I just went to the civic directly now and have them do the scan? Oh right, you said they wouldn’t see anything anyway right?”
*crickets* ugh.. ugh… well… not necessarily
Like, I’m sorry, but why scare me now? I had been here for an explanation or a severity level of how worried I should be the entire time. To which I was made to question why I was even there and scolded for waking you up. But only when I’m walking out the door, that’s when we get berated about the danger of the situation? Suddenly I’m a ‘stroke patient’? Suddenly everything changes? No. I won’t be roped into this ping pong match. I won’t continue these mind games. I am standing my ground, and I am leaving. I am getting far away, and I will not be made to feel that I AM the one who’s doing something wrong.
Everything about this entire experience was wrong, and the one thing I do have the control over is where I go and when. Right now, I’m going to where I am safe. Home. Within closer proximity to hospitals should I need to go. I will be under the care and supervision of my husband who knows my vitals and cues of when there’s something wrong. I will be safe
As we left the hospital, I again thanked them for their time. I gave grace and understanding that wasn’t deserved, I allowed more room impatience due to the pandemic. I wanted to start and finish by being kind regardless of how I was treated in return. Still, I couldn’t help but leave feeling more confused and scared then when I first came.
That confusion was followed by anger, and outrage. WHY did this happen again?
I’m nice, I’m calm, I’m organized, I provide all of the facts, I am a great advocate, I have logic, I don’t quote google, I awaited every opportunity to be examined and so badly wanted to be given the clear or some type of explanation as to what had happened to me. Instead I was made to feel my symptoms were nothing at first, it was downplayed, dismissed, and then confused even further when suddenly it became a big scary thing. It made no sense
I arrived home, and within 20 minutes, and in the dim light, my pupils became different sizes again. I wondered to myself, why didn’t she do my eye test in different lighting based on what I told her? I was so exhausted at this point, I took another photo, and decided I’m going to sleep.
We made a plan as to what we would do in the event of the ‘what if’s’. My husband stayed up all night doing checks, and we made it to morning.
I was so exhausted yesterday, just mentally exhausted from the whole experience. I slept until 8:30pm last night. I was proud that I stood my ground and left, but couldn’t help but wonder what we would have done had my current condition been more unstable.
This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to us, and I’m certain it won’t be the last. Yesterday my husband spent the morning and afternoon contacting every doctor I have to get their opinion on how to proceed. Who to get help from, etc.
Most of the answers pointed towards neuro. So we arranged an emergency appt with my neuro, and we just spoke on the phone. I explained the situation, he congratulated us for knowing so much. For doing the right things at home, for documenting how the eyes respond in different lights, for being able to tell the story with such a good recount. All of which led him to ordering an MRI of my neck and head right on the phone, focusing on the artery in my neck. (The pinched nerve I felt at first) after discussing, he quickly realized it’s most likely not the eye that was larger that’s the issue, but maybe the eye that is smaller: based on the clues I gave about both eyes constricting while in bright light, but then one going larger in the dim light. He said it’s normal for eyes to go larger, but it’s NOT normal for one to constrict. So the opposite eye may be the issue, the one that stayed small. See?! Doctor/patient team work at its finest.
I wish I had a clear explanation as to what you can do in the event that this happens, but it’s very situational. One major thing I want to make clear:
Never feel pressured to stay somewhere that you are not comfortable.
Never feel you have to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing
Never feel you don’t have the option to get a second opinion
Never feel that you aren’t entitled to leave and seek help elsewhere
If it’s unsafe to leave, but you aren’t comfortable in the care where you are, you can request a medi transfer to another hospital who has the means to treat you.
The reason I’m sharing this is to let you know that it can happen, and you have every right to feel outrage. We have a right to proper care, and not be made to feel as if we’ve done something wrong when seeking medical attention
Emergency situations are a bit more tricky depending on the severity of your condition, but as I said, IF you aren’t feeling heard or safe, but can’t leave that hospital, please reach out to the patient advocacy number for that hospital and get help.
I was fortunate in THIS situation to be able to speak for myself, to have someone I trust with me to validate what happened. To confirm it’s not just ‘in my head’. But if you don’t, share within a patient support group. Anywhere that you can get support and be reassured.
Above all, please don’t let this prevent you from seeking medical attention when needed. I was so hesitant to go to the hospital a couple nights ago, and all of my fears were confirmed despite how prepared I was, despite how kind I was. But I’m not letting that stop me from getting the care that I require to keep me safe and THRIVING.
I have no answers just yet about why my pupils did this, and what’s going on. But I now have leads, we have made progress, and will eventually get answers. Through our own advocacy efforts and reaching out to the patient community with similar conditions, someone was even able to suggest a syndrome that made sense to my neuro. THAT condition is now being investigated, all because of sharing and asking questions. Using technology!
I imagine I’ll have to do a lot of tests that will uncover nothing, some that will eliminate a cause, and eventually one that will uncover it. I however will not stop until I have an answer.
By sharing this, it’s my therapeutic release of letting it go and not giving it power over me. My illness isn’t going away, so I need to be confident and able to speak when I can for myself.
I hope in some small way if something similar has happened to you, you’re reminded that it’s not your fault. You are deserving and worthy of kindness, patience, and answers.
I haven’t shared since, because I needed time to rest and recover. In the interim I was able to get closer to answers and strongly advocate despite having this happen as a big hiccup.
I always say, we are stronger together. Sharing is often beneficial, and can give a voice to something you have experienced and didn’t know how to feel or how to express it to others.
Thank you for reading, for expressing concern, and for your support.
I can call myself an expert by now, I would estimate in my short time on this earth… I’ve had at least 70 scans. Probably more, but I don’t keep count.
All types of scans, CT with contrast, CT without contrast, MRI, PET scans, MIBG, Octreotide, bone density scans, Gallium 68, and that’s not including your average ultrasounds and x rays.
So, I will hold the title of expert level, I might as well get something out of it. I’m going to give you the best tips I have to be prepared. I find the best way to remove the fear, is to know what’s coming. So hopefully by me sharing what to expect, the things we can control, it will eliminate some of the anxiety leading up to it.
Yesterday’s scan was an MRI, not my favourite type of scan. But then again, they all have their woes.
A lot of people ask…
“what is the best type of scan to get for a Pheochromocytoma?” but here’s the thing… it is so specific to your case.
Specific to the timing, is it diagnostic OR prognostic? Is it a follow up after surgery? Is it to see the tumor size or is it to see the tumor activity? Is it to see if you’re eligible for future treatment?
See, there’s no one size fits all answer.
But since this isn’t going to be about all the different types of scans, I will focus on the one I had yesterday: the MRI
I’m normally a CT girl, not because it’s the best, or because it’s easier – quite the opposite. A CT is normally best for diagnostic imaging, it’s less detailed than an MRI, but gets a good overall view of the body. But I’m deathly allergic to iodine, which is the injectable solution used to light up your insides. So when I do a CT, I have to go through an exhausting allergy prep in order to safely get imaging. I can’t help but giggle, having a rare cancer that requires constant imaging but being allergic to the process. Awesome.
Salt in the wound, am I right?
So because earlier this year we discovered the link between my pheo and mast cell disease, making it no longer ‘just an allergy’ but a life threatening anaphylactic condition, we switched to MRI.
Still with me?
MRI also requires an injectable solution, called gadolinium. But the chances of having a reaction to it are very low. I still prep, and I’m cautious, and I still feel the aftermath of it in my body for a couple of days. But nothing life threatening, phew.
An MRI is a more detailed image, so as previously mentioned, for me it makes sense as we already know I have cancer. We’re not looking for it, or diagnosing it, we want to see all the gory details. We want to see detailed imagery if it has metastasized further, if it’s grown or perhaps shrunk, or if it’s magically disappeared? A girl can dream.
Before I go into explaining what an imaging day looks like, and what to expect DURING an MRI… I want to talk about what the before, leading up to it.
In the weeks leading up to my scan, I get a nervous energy that I don’t even realize I have. I get very fixated on certain tasks, I get a bit scattered, foggy, yet I can’t settle down or rest. I feel the need to always be doing something, planning something, or helping someone else. It’s my way of not focusing on what is about to happen.
In the days leading up to my scan, I allow myself to realize the impact of what’s about to come. What this scan will mean to my future. My brain tries and tries to acknowledge both outcomes, but I don’t allow that.
I refocus my mindset to the impact of hearing the good news, I only focus on the good news. This may seem like blind hope, but to me, why focus on the things we can’t change?
Until there IS a problem, why create one?
I used to always go in with the attitude of expecting the worse but hoping for the best. It was a way of protecting myself and not having my world shattered if I heard bad news, and let’s be real… I heard a lot of bad news. So it became a routine, I’d go in, do my scan, and deep down knee what was to come.
Only in the last few months did that start to change, my life has changed. Well, my quality of life I should say.
Feeling hope to this magnitude, it’s a tricky thing. As previously mentioned, hope can be the hardest thing to have. In fear of it being ripped away, which has happened to me quite a few times.
But I can’t live a life expecting misery and feel no hope and dream no dreams, because that wouldn’t be a very nice existence. So I reframe my mindset to feeling hopeful, manifesting healing, dreaming of what’s to come, and praying for another miracle.
I figure, no matter what the outcome, I will deal with that when the time comes. I can’t control the outcome, but I can control my feelings leading up to it. A-ha! See?
With cancer, or any chronic illness really, we often feel so helpless. Not in control of our own bodies, our minds, our future. So I like to be in control of anything I can. In my mission statement I wrote ‘holding onto my fabulous is the one thing I can control’ and that’s still true.
Except I realized my ‘fabulous’ is much more than just lipstick or hair. It’s who I am, it’s everything that makes me, me!…
So if I had one piece of advice to those of you who are experiencing scanxiety – it’s to acknowledge the possibility of both outcomes, but put your focus on the one you want. It’s okay to quickly consider the alternative, but don’t allow it consume you. Ask for prayer, ask for love, good energy, ask for support. Do what you need to do to feel hopeful.
Set your intention on the good, and in the days leading up to your scan… live your life as normal. Go about your day, clean your house, exercise, bake, talk to your friends and family, make homemade pizzas with your kids, shop till you drop. Do whatever makes you feel good, and most of all, normal.
I can’t tell you just how many sugar free cookies I baked, and how many celebratory outfits I ordered. Yes, celebratory. BecauseI fully intend to be celebrating the outcome. That’s the intention I set, and every day leading up to the scan, I meditated about it, I sang about it, I cried about it.
And now I’m writing about it. I’m putting it out into the universe
When I began writing this blog today, I wanted to explain the process of an MRI to take a bit of the unknown out of it for others. But I’m happy it turned into something different, because I love sharing my heart with you. Let’s be real, we don’t come to pheovsfabulous for the science 😉😂
Let’s walk through what the day looks like, and some practical tips to prepare!
Confidence comes from being prepared
First step, we drive 3 hours to get imaging, so you’re going to want to be comfortable. I said comfortable, not boring. There’s nothing boring about us, we need to feel cute! Look good feel good, am I right? Ladies AND gents!
1. Choose your outfit, and make it a good one. Something that makes you feel like you can take on anything. An outfit that makes you feel POWER, and confident!
2. Prepare your hospital bag, yes, you need this! Even if your hospital is close by, you need to have certain essentials to get you through the day. Since my hospital is out of town, I always bring a small bag of toiletries just INCASE anything unexpected were to happen.
Medications, maybe a book, a good luck charm, lipgloss, you know, the essentials. I always bring my fighting pretty gloves for strength, and a stuffed animal for comfort. This time, I brought gallium. He’s my scanner buddy. More importantly, your medical resume. This is your road map for emergency protocols, allergies, history. I show you how to create that here. If ever you were to have a reaction or go into crisis and couldn’t speak, this is going to be their guide.
3. Create a playlist that pumps you up, gives you happy vibes, and passes the time. You can even listen to an encouraging podcast or whatever you’re into.
4. Prep food and drinks for your trip, takeout is hard when you’re following a low tyramine/histamine diet and allergic to nuts. This is a fasting MRI, so you’re going to be hangry. I suggest bringing at least protein bar to devour the moment you’re done the scan. We bring a small cooler and prepare for the day. We didn’t used to do this and since we have, it’s made such a difference.
5. Pillows, blanket, neck pillow. Anything that’s going to make your road smoother. If you experience chronic pain, sitting in the car for long periods can be tough. I always have a neck pillow in the car as a minimum.
6. Bring slippers! You will have to completely strip down and get into that sexy blue gown, and you don’t want to have to shuffle around in the hospital paper booties too. So bring a pair of slippers to walk around in until your scan.
7. If you wear a wig, you will have to remove it during the scan. (Magnets) I like to bring a bandana or some sort of head covering to be comfortable before and during the imaging. I sometimes sweat quite a bit in reaction to the loud noises and vibrations, and I don’t like coming out with my hair drenched. So I cover my natural hair with a bandana and it helps absorb some of the perspiration.
8. Speaking of noises and vibrations, this is something that bothers quite a few of us. You may want to speak to your doctor about taking something to relieve the anxiety or claustrophobia. Just make sure you’re able to stay awake, as there’s work to do in there!
So now that we’re fully prepared, what should we expect for the MRI?
You will check in, wait a little in the waiting room, I was allowed to be accompanied by my husband as he is my caregiver. With my conditions, I can need life saving care at any time. I can’t go wandering around alone. If your condition requires special attention or sudden medication, tell them this at the door so that your caregiver can be present up until the actual scan.
“Miranda?” Your name will be called, and you will be escorted into the injection area. The hospital I went to was lovely and had a private bed to wait in. I appreciate these details with being in so much pain and fighting to keep my eyes open.
The gadolinium injection won’t take place until during the scan, so you’ll need an IV placed. (Hydrate a lot before!) so that your veins will be ready.
The technician will insert the IV, and you will be asked to wait a bit until your turn to be scanned.
You will again be escorted into another room, this time where the MRI scanner lives.
The MRI is a big white tube, and yes, you’re going in head first. This is why I like to know what to expect, it makes you less nervous when prepared. You will lay on the hard narrow table, there will be a blanket underneath, and if they don’t have a leg wedge set up, ask for one! Thank me later. You will want that elevation to take pressure off your back, the scan will most likely last at least 20 mins, mine was about 30.
They will place a large plastic contraption over the area that’s being scanned, for me, that was my abdomen. This device will be what captures the images, and they will gently secure you to the table with some straps so you don’t have to be worried about positioning.
Before sending you into the MRI, they will place some headphones on you. This will allow the technician to speak to you throughout the test, and you will also hear a voice prompt you when to breathe and when to hold your breath.
My technician was super kind and explained to me to listen to the voice as soon as she says to breathe in, GO. Don’t wait until the instructions are finished, this was really helpful to me so that we didn’t have to repeat the photos.
**Super important tip**
For me, I don’t want to feel like I’m in a tube. So I close my eyes before I go in. I never ever open them, that way I won’t panic. Everyone is different with this, my husband likes to keep his eyes open and then close when he’s ready. It depends if you’re claustrophobic.
Everyone will leave the room, and you will move into the machine. You will begin to hear the prompts almost right away, “take a deep breath in, now hold your breath” and you will have to hold for about 30 seconds. (I counted)
How do you stay calm during the scan
I practice guided meditations every day, and I learned breath work to calm my nervous system periodically throughout the day. This can all be done through YouTube, type ‘guided meditation’ and you will see a whole bunch of meditation types. Ranging from stress relief, sleep aids, ptsd healing, etc. Doing this on a daily basis allows me to stay calm during ongoing stressful circumstances. During the scan your mind will be used to travelling to your happy place, while still listening to the breathing instructions.
About half way through the scan, the gadolinium will be injected electronically into your IV. Like any contrast, you will feel the ‘warm feeling’. AKA you will feel like you just peed yourself. It’s not AS aggressive as the iodine contrast during CT, but you do feel it. This is normal, don’t panic! You didn’t pee! I promise.
The hard part is over, kind of. You will be guided back into the injection room to have your IV removed, and you can be on your way. Go take care of your hanger, eat that protein bar, and drink LOTS of water to flush your kidneys of the dye. And I mean lots! You’ll feel better quicker.
Although the physical part is over… now the mental part is going to take its toll. Leading up to the scan, all that nervous energy you experienced, it’s going to be the opposite now.
You will most likely be drained, exhausted, mentally and physically. It’s time to rest and recover. I slept a few hours the moment I got home, and I’ll be honest – experienced a lot of pain. Have your heating pad ready, and whatever you do to control your pain levels. As I’m writing this I’m still pretty stiff. For me, the noise and vibrations of the machine makes my body tense up. Leaving me feeling like I did an extreme an workout when the whole day is done.
Speaking only from my personal experience, once the scan is done, I feel too drained to worry about the results. I did enough of that leading up to it, now it’s time to just be and let be.
Worrying will not change the results, but it will make you feel like crap. As we all know, stress is the worst thing for our bodies with this disease.
So now it’s time to rest, and do something that really brings you peace. For me, it’s doing exactly this. Writing.
This is my therapy, helping others by sharing my experience.
In this post I’m going to give you a road map of how I manage with pain with different techniques for severe flare ups AND daily prevention.
I’ve dealt with my fair share of pain, I remember living day to day at a pain scale of 12+ and couldn’t quite get it under control. I truly suffered for years and pain was my primary issue.
I remember not being able to stand because my feet were so sore, I couldn’t sit because my tailbone hurt so much, and I couldn’t comfortably lay down because my skin literally hurt to the touch. I was miserable. But there were things that we learned along the way that helped significantly, so I’m going to share them. But not before I explain WHY 👇🏼
Please always consult your team before making any changes. Integrating new techniques into your daily routine is okay, but removing something without your doctor’s knowledge can be dangerous.
If you didn’t already know, we heavily advocated for a diagnosis of mast cell disease this year. There was a lot of symptoms not adding up with my primary illness… and a lot of red flags over the years for MCAS.
Part of having mast cell disease is a chemical and medicationintolerance. Your body doesn’t like a lot of stuff. So the regular pain management approach that was being used for me at that time, was unknowingly making me worse. Much worse
When you have pheochromocytoma or metastatic disease, pain relief can already be tricky since there’s medications that can make the same hormone expression in our bodies as the tumors. Sometimes making us more symptomatic and in more pain.
If you mix mast cell disease into the equation, it’s a recipe for disaster.
So what did I do? Well first, we had to evaluate if I was on the right medications… or on the wrong ones!
This is a quick emergency reference guide of medications to avoid and that are better tolerated in most cases of mast cell disease. This is from the mast cell society.
So once I fully detoxed from the bad medications on the list, and began life saving treatment for MCAS, I could now begin my healing journey. It saved me, I could now begin to manage my pain.
All that being said, let’s get to pain management!
With such a restriction of traditional pain management, we had to start learning different forms from of relief. I was kind of forced to do so, and I’m actually thankful for that. I don’t think I would have believed how well integrative relief worked if I hadn’t tried it myself. I think that this is something every chronic pain sufferer should know either way.
Mind body connection:
I’m not going to get too scientific, but I was told when I had my very first surgery that the brain will imprint pain.
If the brain gets used to pain, it’s difficult to find relief. Which is why it’s important to understand the link between the mind body connection.
You can’t just say “okay I’ll be really positive and believe I’m not in pain and it’ll go away!” No, it’s much deeper than that.
The more pain we endure, it can make the brain can experience anxiety and depression. Which makes pain worse.
Which is what led me to managing pain in a way where I don’t just throw a pill at it.
I know, it was hard for me to wrap my mind around this too. We are made to believe that medications are the only way of pain relief. Especially in palliative care. But please don’t get me wrong, I’m NOT saying medications are bad, I’m just saying that it takes MORE to truly control pain. Also in my specific circumstances, I didn’t have a choice. With the restrictions on the list above, pain management isn’t easy.
Let’s talk about that sudden, unexpected, all encompassing type pain that makes you feel panic and pushes your body into overdrive. My list may seem extreme, but I promise the more prepared you are…. Quality of life improves significantly.
Through panic tears, squeezing headache, nausea and sharp belly jabs, it’s difficult to give the body the oxygen it needs to calm down. So there’s a few steps to a flare that I follow. Especially if chest pain is involved.
*if you’re alone, you will want to put aside an emergency pain flare setup. So things can be easily grabbed and accessed. If you’re with someone, they need to know how to respond and what measures to take. Either way, perhaps print the following information and keep it handy. I will also include a list of supplies at the end.
1. First, get to your safe place. For me, this is my bed. My bed offers me the most relief, and I can adjust to how I need to position myself.
2. Elevate your legs, I have an adjustable base, which allows me to put myself in zero gravity with 1 touch. This has been a life saver for me for many reasons, but not everyone has this. Keep some firm pillows or preferably a wedge nearby to quickly access if your bed is not adjustable. Putting your legs into what they call ‘zero gravity’ position means your legs are higher than your heart.
120° angle bend at the hips puts your body in the “zero stress zone”
Spinal vertebrae are decompressed and muscles are relaxed
Airway and nasal passages are opened up
Elevated legs reduce stress on the heart
Heart and stomach are slightly below the head and knees
I can literally go on and on about the benefits of zero gravity, which is why I have an adjustable bed. In a flare, it will open your airways, reduce the stress on your heart, and put you into a reduced stress zone for pain relief. This is scientifically proven.
3. Once you’re in your safe zone, your legs are elevated, you will begin to feel just a tiny bit more calm. I promise. Reducing the feeling of stress and panic to your body will already alter your pain receptors, allowing your body to be less tense, and begin to think more clearly.
4. Heat and Cold Therapy: In a flare state, most likely you will experience sweating, flushing, and added discomforts. Which brings me to my next point: heat and cold therapy.
Having a cooling band for your head will help relieve the inevitable headache you will experience, and it will also cool your body temperature. Cool therapy also can help with nerve pain. So having more than 1 cooking band is a good idea. You can even use a cold wash cloth. Whatever works for you.
Heat therapy is typically a heating pad, or some sort of heat relief. So again having it ready and easily accessible is important. I always have my heating pad rigged and ready to go inmy bed.Always plugged in! The more prepared you are, the smoother these flares become.
5. Massage: most of you are probably reading this and going “well I don’t have a personal masseuse!” 😂 and I get that. I promise, I got you!
IF you do have someone able to gently rub your body to relieve the tension the pain is creating, then do so. Not all types of pain allow us to be touched, but if it’s not the yucky skin pain, then go ahead with light massage.
If you’re a caregiver reading this, the power of a light touch is incredible. Even if it’s just to say “I’m here” without words. This is dependant on your partner or loved one, but I find it very helpful to have my head rubbed lightly during this event. It’s helpful for the body to go into a relaxed state, loosens the muscles, and can alleviate some of the tremors.
So what do you do if you’re by yourself? Well you guys KNOW how much I love Amazon. (Hehehe)
Introducing the massage mat: it can even be heated! Which eliminates the use of a heating pad. So many of you have asked me if I know about a heating pad that hits all areas of the body, so I did my research, V 😉
6. Guided Meditation or sound therapy: okay, I’ll ask you to keep an open mind here. I know a lot of us hear the word meditate and think something entirely different than what it is. Meditation simply means your mind is focusing on a particular thought. Learning how to meditate is incredibly important because if we circle back to the first step, you’re much more likely to achieve a state of reduced panic if you’re able to practice mindfulness. And that’s what meditation is, practicing mindfulness. I had NO idea how to meditate, and honestly? I like to take the guess work out of it. Which is why I use a guided meditation practice. I’m sounding all fancy, but literally just search on YouTube ‘guided meditations’. For this specific circumstance, I will link the one that helps me in a pain flare. It’s short, it’s specific to pain, and it’s very good at calming me down and putting me to sleep. Sleep is the primary end goal in a flare. I will talk more about the benefits of meditation later.
*Once you are able to achieve this mindfulness, you can use this focusing technique during painful procedures, scans, and any situation where you need to disconnect.
Sound therapy means that if you’re unable to listen to someone speak like in a guided meditation, you can use sound healing instead. It operates on a frequency that can offer different forms of relief for your body. Here’s an example of a pain frequency:
7. This may seem obvious but keeping your flare up emergencymedications close to you in different parts of the house can make all the difference. I keep a mini medication kit beside my bed since that’s my safe place. If I’m experiencing ‘that type’ of headache, or anything flare related that can be calmed with medication treatment, I take it before doing anything else. That way it has time to sink in while I’m trying to calm my body.
If you haven’t already noticed, the primary goal of pain management during a flare is to calm the nerves, the nervous system, the mind, it’s all about the calm!
8. At this point we should have achieved a state of exhaustion, the pain should be dying down, but we have nothing left in our tank. So it’s time to sleep … sleep is the number 1 restorative factor in our overall health and actually helps with daily pain control. If you get a restorative night’s sleep, your body and cells regenerate and heal. If we reframe our brains and pretend like you’re going to pay 120$ for some special exclusive healing therapy, we might be more motivated to get our money’s worth!
So what we just went over was mainly considered pain relief type practices, because they’re meant to reduce pain NOW. But what I’ve learned I’m trying to manage my pain? It’s a full time job!
Daily healing takes time, dedication, education, it can be expensive, and can seem daunting to do on our own. But the way I’ve explained it, I’ve used a lot of selfhealing methods to try and remove some of that burden.
Pain management is the practice of constant self care and prevention techniques, it’s treating your body like the precious vessel that it is. It’s self care, it’s nutrition, it’s movement, it’s mindfulness, it’s everything we discussed above and much much more.
If you rolled your eyes at any one of those things, I get it. I really do. I am NOT saying “get some fresh air and do some yoga” and you’ll feel all better.
I am not minimizing pain nor am I saying it’s a one size fits all, I’ve been exposed to chronic pain all of my life in various forms. I’ve grown up witnessing my father suffer in chronic pain from a work accident. My sister having been hit by a car and in an extended coma when I was 12… I’ve seen pain. I am a 30 year old palliative woman, I GET PAIN. I promise I have the life credentials.
But what I am saying is that… the thing they don’t teach us in the pain clinics or when people are prescribed heavy narcotics, is that our brains play a powerful role in how we feel. The mind body connection is so important, and once understood and used correctly… can be life changing.
I’ve gotten angry at people for telling me to take a walk or get fresh air. Especially when I was physically unable to do those things a lot of the time. It won’t cure you, it won’t make it go away, but in combination with other daily habits can really help us toward managing our mental AND physical well being.
My husband showed me that no matter what your circumstances, you have to continue to do the things you love. The things that bring you enjoyment and calm. So hopefully I can be that person for you.
If I couldn’t leave bed, I’d get outside in my wheelchair. Feel the vitamin d in your face for a moment, breathe the fresh air. It’s just an important note to change your surroundings and not fall victim to your illness.
My daily management road map:
You’re going to see a trend here, the main goal for management is to manage your stress, your mood, your mental well being, your body’s inflammation levels, physical activity… but overall, the mind plays a major role in pain management strategies. Let me show you:
1. Nutrition: If your condition has any link to food triggers or intolerance, get to know them. Study them inside and out and start eliminating. Don’t wait, I’m telling you! I wish I had done this sooner. Start writing down what you eat and how you felt afterwards. I knew with pheo I couldn’t have foods high in tyramine, but I didn’t really understand the impact. I knew with MCAS I couldn’t have foods high in histamine. If you’re unsure of your condition, an elimination diet could be helpful. Then once you reintroduce the foods one by one, you will see what you react to.
Understanding the role of nutrition is probably… one of the things that impacted my overall health the most.
Weight related pain caused me extreme joint pain, weakness, skin sores, inflammation, clothing discomfort. My conditions kept me gaining and incredibly inflamed, swollen, sore. Until we finally figured out what diet worked best. For me and my angry tumors, my broken mast cells, and my AI, the best lifestyle I can follow is: low carb, sugar free, low histamine and low tyramine life.
Anyone can benefit from eliminating processed foods and sugar, but it’s a personal choice and can be difficult when trying to manage everything else. Believe me, food is a great source of comfort for us. Hello, doctor CUPCAKES. But when I saw the difference in my pain and even my mood? I wish I had known sooner
If you don’t know where to begin, just stay in the fresh part of the grocery. Whole foods are vegetables, eggs, meats, and anything that isn’t processed or canned. I know this sucks, but eliminating alcohol completely is so important with this disease. There’s really no good alcohol and it will cause an immediate reaction.
2. We talked about meditation, so if you can, incorporate it into your daily lifestyle. Like I said, start slow, and easy. Open YouTube, type ‘guided meditations’ and choose one that speaks to your mood at the moment. Anxiety, stress, grounding, chakra balance, pain, overactive mind, sleep, self love, there’s a meditation for just about anything. Tips to incorporate it into your day: wake up and do a quick 5-10 gratitude session. Mid day when taking a nap, choose one that’s a little longer to rest to. Then when you go to bed, put one on for sleep. That’s 3 right there!
3. Daily mindfulness: because I’m often asked what my daily habits are and what is self healing… I use an app called aura, it curates coaching sessions, CBT therapy, breath work exercises, meditations, all specific to your needs. It’s a quick and beginner way to learn how to connect with yourself.
Try exploring some self healing books, some topics I recommend are: PTSD recovery, gratitude practice, mindset, anxiety control, and self care. If you’d like me to share my reading list let me know in the comments and I will dedicate a post to it.
If you’re new to practicing gratitude, order a 6-10$ gratitude journal on Amazon. This would be a good place to start. Acknowledging what we’re grateful for helps dig us out of a rut, it improves our way of thinking, and it allows us to see the good even when things are very bad. Law of attraction is real y’all!
If you’re asking yourself… what does this all have to do with pain? You’re not wrong for asking, most people connect pain relief with traditional practices and physical actions. But for management it’s important to be managing your mindset, mood, outlook, and coping strategies. It’s all linked in one way or another, but I can’t do more than offer you the guidance and assurance that it works for me. It’s up to you to make the decision to include what works for you.
Another way to practice mindfulness is to listen to music, get in a habit of putting on some headphones when doing any task. Listen to whatever speaks to your mood, anything to boost your happy hormones, am I right?!
4. Movement: okay this is a big one. It’s also hard when you’re unable to move much at all. I’ve been there as well. But movement is important for circulation, for inflammation, and pain relief!
Some things you can do if you’re sedentary: physio, physio, physio.
Think of when you just get surgery, the first thing they have you do is walk and sit. Think of it like that.
You can do physio in bed, you can do physio from a chair, and it doesn’t always have to be formal. I did my own physio for months with exercise sheets provided to me by the hospital. Ask your physician for some physio exercises, or look for your own and ask if it’s okay for you.
I also used to lift one pound weights in bed, just to move my arms around and not completely lose my muscle mass. We would do leg exercises while I was laying down, and I began slowly walking more and more.
Laughing, smiling, and bed dancing helps too.
If you’re moderate, you can incorporate movement by walking. What I like to do is give myself a daily steps goal, no I am not running a marathon so I won’t achieve 10,000 daily steps like most people, but I cried the day I hit 1000. Some days I would only get to 68 steps, so even if you increase that goal to 100, it ALL COUNTS! Now sometimes I can even get to 5000!
YouTube has a ton of free light impact workouts, physio routines, and light strength training. I love body by Amy, and I also really enjoy beach body on demand, they always include a modified version which I appreciate. I always do the super modified version!
If I’m walking – I’m dancing. I may look ridiculous, and I love it! I dance in the kitchen, I dance brushing my teeth, I dance doing my skincare. Any way to get some movement in and my blood flowing! Also, being silly helps you smile and helps others around you smile. And happy hormones offset angry hormones, well that’s what I tell myself anyway.
This may sound taboo for some but … sex! Sex is not only movement, but it’s a way for the brain to create natural endorphins. Making your body less stressed, happier, and reduces pain. Cool, right?! And remember, you don’t always need a partner for sex! Hint hint. I’ll leave you with that thought. In all seriousness, I know when we’re feeling blah and in pain the last thing you want to do is have sex. Sex can be painful for a lot of us, but it is good to keep pleasure in mind because it’s a natural way of creating pain relief and improved mood. Swearsies!
Good old walking, but make it enjoyable. Go somewhere nice, go to the water, the beach, the woods. Switch it up, let it be good for the mind and the body at the same time.
Last but not least, I try as much as I can to incorporate movement by doing everyday house tasks. I’m not able to do a lot, but unloading the dishwasher or preparing a meal can really change the way you feel about yourself. It makes me feel accomplished and it reduces my stress levels. And if you dance while you’re doing it, it’s a double movement bonus!
5. Sleep: we talked about sleep, but we have to make it a habit in order for it to be helpful and restorative. We don’t just want to pass out from a flare or when we’re delirious. (This was me for many years) once I got the proper treatment for all of my illnesses, my sleep improved. The night terrors went away, and the adrenaline panic jumps stopped.
Some things we can do to improve our sleep habits are…
-Clean sheets and comfortable bedding (you can’t beat that ‘hotel’ feeling’!) make every day like you’re on vacation in your own home
-Going to bed 1 hour earlier per night. (I have a sleep alarm on my phone that tells me when to wind down)
-meditate to go to sleep, or listen to a sleep story, or even just put on some calming sounds, I promise it works!
-if you experience sleep apnea or breathing issues, it’s important to participate in a sleep study and be treated
-zero gravity position. Yes! You can sleep this way. It’s not just for flares. Having a slight elevation opens your air ways, increases circulation, and takes pressure points off your back. It also helps with acid reflux sufferers. All of which wake us up frequently. Try it, thank me later!
Please keep in mind that sleep includes rest, so although we will be meditating daily, and doing mindful practices… it’s not sleeping. Our bodies need A LOT of rest, my nap time is 3pm sharp! Don’t ever feel guilt for sleeping, for resting, but I recommend really resting and not just watching tv or scrolling on your phone. Our bodies need time to restore, and yes nightly sleep is vital for this. But so is daily rest!
Especially if you’re feeling down or a depression creeping in, your body may require more resting time than normal. You will know when, just listen to the cues your body gives you.
6. Daily tracking: get used to writing things down. Download a diary app (orange diary, or diarium) or get yourself a notebook. The more you write down your symptoms, your triggers, your moods, your patterns, your activities, the more you will see what’s helping or hurting. It’s also helpful for your medical team and YOU! Think back to your last appt, Were you struggling to describe the type of pain when you were reliving it to the doctor? This is why tracking it is important, in real time. It gets to be a habit and it can be what literally saves your life.
7. What brings you joy? You guys, I can’t stress this question enough, I saved it for last for a reason. Not because it’s the least important, but because it’s the MOST important. Living with life altering illnesses can be all encompassing, most of us only go out when we see our doctors. Or for treatment, and if we’re really lucky, the grocery store. So I can’t stress this enough, what do you LOVE doing? What makes you happy?
I understand you may not be able to zip line or bunjee jump, but there’s always a way to adapt to your previous passions. And also find new purpose! We don’t lose who we are because we become sick.
Remember when I said my husband taught me it’s possible to do the things you enjoy when you’re sick? Well, it’s sometimes difficult, and comes with extra planning and help… but it’s do-able.
I’ve also found that the simplicity in life has brought me great joy compared to before, I can appreciate just about any moment or see something beautiful.
It’s all of the above daily healing practices that’s helped me with this. But we all hold the ability to see things in this way.
However we HAVE to do things that bring us happiness, it’s what gets us from one day to the next, and it’s what helps us release our minds temporarily from the pain.
Self care is a huge part of my happiness, all of the above is self care. Self care is dedicating time to YOU and your healing. So I am prescribing a big fat dose of SELF CARE to you! That’s why I share so much of my routines, my love for taking care of myself, because it brings me joy. And guess what? When we’re happy, we’re often experiencing a momentary release from the pain!
I personally love this, sharing. I love staying fabulous, and I love helping others. That’s what brings me joy.
I also love unicorns, Starbucks, writing, SHOPPING, Christmas, birthdays, chalet getaways, sunsets, selfies, massages, movie nights with friends, cooking, pedicures, manicures, skincare, makeup, my husband’s smirk, his smile, my dogs, pink things, soft blankets, my bed, fresh flowers, things that sparkle, planners, journals, writing lists, being organized, and … well, just about anything else. Not in that particular order
I’m not hard to please. My point is, think of what makes you happy. Do at least one thing per day that gives you that feeling.
So that’s all folks, that’s my pain relief guide and management plan. You have aced the course! Now you just have to live it. I bet you weren’t expecting what you just read, but living it is the best part!
I always say the best feeling in the world is having something to look forward to. Well I hope I’ve created that feeling for you, planning all the ways you will incorporate these into your life to successfully manage pain!
Someone recently asked me how I deal with the anger that comes with being dismissed for so long with rare disease.
So you just got your diagnosis. It’s hard to know how to feel, right? Thankful that you have answers? Angry that countless times you were told it was in your head? That you couldn’t POSSIBLY have that, only to have EXACTLY that..
Pheochromocytoma/paraganglioma are considered a very rare disease. The diagnostic process is a bit different for rare disease patients, and it comes with a different set of emotions when the diagnosis is finally delivered.
I’m going to talk a little bit about how I personally cope with the emotions that come from diagnosis, and what I do with the anger that comes along with it.
Of course no one wants to be sick, but with the untreated symptoms wreaking havoc on your body… honestly, by that time we are often praying for a diagnosis. Without a diagnosis, there’s no opportunity to heal, to take control back. To do something! It’s a strange dynamic, praying to be told you’re sick. Then the moment it’s confirmed.. we will give anything to be told we’re ‘fine’ again.
My first diagnosis came as a complete shock, I was 19, I’d understandably never heard of pheochromocytoma before. I never actually thought I had a 1 in a million tumor, not once did that run through my mind. I just thought I was just having sporadic attacks that made me feel like I was going to die every day. I was also relieved. I was relieved that I didn’t have to argue anymore, to prove myself to anyone. I was finally going to be able to take control over my body, and get treated. Or so I thought…
My second diagnosis was different, it’d been 4 years since my first Pheo, and I’d never been symptom free. I still dealt with the daily attacks from the adrenaline, and was being told that I was fine all over again. It was like I was stuck in a time warp that would repeat itself every day for years. I was continuously being convinced that I was ‘just’ anxious, that my blood pressure machine was wrong, my blood sugar is probably just low, etc. I heard it all. I still hear these things every day from people around the world.
My second diagnosis was a different experience, because I knew I had the disease, I knew exactly what it was, I just needed the proof. And then by the time I got proof, it was considered terminal. I was now terminally ill at 24 years old. Tough pill to swallow. How am I supposed to feel this time?
There’s no right or wrong feeling. The first time- I felt shock and then the fear of uncertainty quickly set in.
What will my future look like? Will I be able to go back to work? Will I have a normal love life? Will I always be in pain? Am I going to constantly have to be worried about it coming back? Am I going to be treated differently? Do I want to be treated differently? Am I different?
The second time- all I felt was numb, and then anger set in. I was so angry. My husband was angry. We were outraged that this could be able to happen, only… I’d find out later that it happens more than I think
I think I can confidently say I hear at least 1 person per DAY that is going through this. With this specific disease. This incredibly rare disease. It’s been six years since my diagnosis, so that’s a lot of people.
I’m generally a very happy, positive, bubbly-type chatty person. I don’t like feeling so negatively for extended periods of time. Holding onto anger. But I also know now that it’s important to acknowledge your feelings, so that you can work through them. Toxic positivity isn’t a better solution, being positive and hopeful needs to come from a place of true belief. That way the negative emotions don’t become pent up little balls of anger that burst at any given random time.
I initially channeled my anger into taking my control back, my plan? Getting a new medical team. One that would hear me, and be specialized. I needed a miracle team. I felt like if I could regain a sense of control.. I’d be able to feel different. I didn’t know what emotion I was looking for, I just needed to get past anger. I didn’t realize that I’d be holding onto that toxic feeling for longer than I’d like to admit.
It’s similar to the process of grief, you’re grieving your old life, your sense of normalcy, your old self. The ability to do mundane tasks, to relate to others in your circle, in your age group, the feeling of not knowing the importance and impact of living. It’s a hard dynamic for me because I was always so young, and I felt cheated out of a lot of opportunities I KNEW I would be amazing at. We all have things to grieve, it needs to be done.
So let’s talk more about how I regained that control. 48 hours after my diagnosis, I had arranged to see a new specialist, a whole new team. I knew I needed the best, I was 24 and given a poor prognosis. Honestly? I was dying, and they weren’t shy about telling me so. You don’t mess around when it comes to your health, you do anything and everything to change your circumstances.
Securing this new team… it made me feel I had purpose, that I was capable, I felt proud. These emotions are a lot better than anger, am I right?
As I rebuilt trust with these new doctors, fragments of anger would slowly chip away. My fear of not being heard, was slowly diminishing. Time. It takes time.
But what if we don’t have time? I’m terminal, I don’t have time to go through this long process.
Terminal illness isn’t a ticking time clock, it FEELS like that at the beginning… believe me. But I am here to remind you, eventually, with this precious time, your mindset changes.
I decided I needed an outlet for the fear, anger, and acceptance I so badly needed.
That’s when I started my blog, as a way of channeling these feelings into something good. Something with purpose. I wanted to know my experience meant something. I wanted my diagnosis to be an example for health care practitioners around the world. I wanted my story to be told to EVERY single pheochromocytoma patient.
I wanted my words to live on forever knowing they were making a difference.
Channeling your fear and anger into helping yourself? That’s a beautiful feeling.
Channeling fear and anger into helping someone else? That is when those fragments become whole again.
But let’s back up, I’m not saying everyone has to start a blog. What I am saying is that it’s important to get your feelings OUT, write them down somehow. Whether that be a journal, a support group, a diary, or a video blog. Even if you just talk to your camera and never share it! Whatever you feel comfortable with, it’s important to let your story be heard. Even if it’s just for you, this type of therapeutic action is something that for me, changed my life.
I’ve recommended different types of journals, diaries, gratitude practice, all different sorts of ways of expressing feelings to many people over the years: I’ve never heard someone say it didn’t help them in some small way.
Here’s the hard part: forgiveness. Eventually, down the road… I forgave everyone who I was still holding onto anger towards. This is NOT an easy step, I won’t sugar coat it. To get to this point, it’s a lot of work. Self discovery, trauma healing, mental health practices, growth. However, actually doing it? Meaning it?
It’s so unbelievably freeing.
I know I probably don’t need to remind anyone of this, but forgiveness is not for the other person. It’s for YOU. It’s so that you’re not suffering with those toxic feelings all your life, those fragments that are making you feel broken, while they are out in the world not even giving it a thought. You don’t have to personally forgive them, you do it however you want to. Whatever makes you feel safe.
It can be through prayer, you can again write it down, or just sit alone with yourself and say it aloud. You can role play with someone you trust.
I personally did just that, all of the ways. I had a lot to get off my chest, a lot of years of trauma and forgiveness. I only recently got to this step, after 6 years. Everyone’s time line is different, and that’s okay. Even if you decide, “no, I can’t possibly forgive someone who did this to me”
That’s okay too.
This is YOUR healing process, and you do with it what you decide. I can only let you know what I did, and what helped me. Made me feel whole again.
I’ve had a lot of people come to me and say “I could never do that”. I’m with you, I’ve been there. I said that repeatedly in the beginning, then it shifted to “one day, I think I’ll be ready” and then one day, I knew I was
So as you can see, it takes time, no one situation is a one size fits all. However we are all still very similar, and much closer than you think. That’s what being part of a community is. No matter what type of diagnosis you’re receiving, it’s going to change your life. It doesn’t have to change you, the person you are inside.
“Fabulous is your light, your smile, your energy, your positivity, your willfulness, your vitality, passion, excitement, beauty, laugh, and how you share it!” – Pheo VS Fabulous
I’d like to send out a personal acknowledgement to everyone surviving and thriving today. Being national cancer survivors day, I thought this would be the perfect time to share this incredibly important article.
When people hear cancer survivor, they think past tense, someone who’s ‘beat’ cancer and is alive today.
A survivor is someone who’s been diagnosed, actively in treatment, in remission, and someone like me, who’s a mix of all of the above. Someone who’s surviving every day, never having the time where they can say it’s in their past. But they can say –
“Harmonious self regulation is the body’s natural state, stress pulls you into another state, of heightened biological responses that triggers a flow of hormones, increased heart rate, stimulate the hyper-vigilance of the senses, and many other linked reactions. But these are all temporary, they are emergency responses only”.
Let’s talk about this 👆🏻 I read this last night in one of my @chopra novels.
It actually hit me pretty hard. Although this is scientifically true, for someone who suffers with my disease, this response is NO longer a emergency response. It can happen anytime. Without warning ⚠️
On a normal day, I agree with that statement. To my core. I practice gratitude, inner self healing, I meditate, I let go of toxic feelings, i detox my life often of stress. So with that said…
Imagine your body being able to cause this stress response to ignite… WITHOUT the presence of a threat, or any type of apparent stress 🤯
Pheochromocytoma tumors produce those stress hormones, the very ones he’s talking about.
Igniting the body’s natural response state to stress, except… I’m stuck in that state, all the time. My neurologist recently described it as being chased by a wooly mammoth, the fear and stress response ignites (fight or flight) and then followed by saying “but for you, the chasing never ends. You’re always being chased, and your body can never rest”
We don’t get the option. We don’t have that basic human function to decide if we are happy or not 😂 our body decides for us.
I know some of you may not get this, you may be thinking “you just need to do more inner work to find your true happiness”. It’s a normal response to something people can’t possibly understand, which is why I’m doing my best to explain it.
What I’m getting at is that this is a physiological time bomb we carry around that decides chemically how we’re going to feel for a certain period of time. It’s an actual sudden, rapid, release of stress hormones that put your body into a state of fight or flight.
That can manifest differently for some. If someone’s untreated and undiagnosed, they’ll feel it normally as if they’re suddenly going to die. It’s not just an emotional response, it’s a physical reactive state where your blood pressure elevates, your heart rate suddenly increases, and that comes with symptoms like sudden brain squeezing headaches, shaking, intense nausea or vomiting, it truly is a physical assault from your own body.
For most, they have to adapt to it for a few months and then they get surgery. But me, we’re friends for life. We’re in this till the end, me and Pheo. Pheo and I
Since I’ve done countless treatments, and am well managed with medications, I don’t experience that type of physical intensity that often anymore. However, the emotional stress response is very friggin real.
I don’t want to complicate this too much, but I also have comorbidities that create the same hormonal imbalance and sudden stress responses. Adrenal insufficiency, and mast cell activation syndrome. I’m basically a little bomb of chemical reactions 😂
So I thought it’d be a good time to just kind of touch on this subject since I don’t talk about it very often.
I’ll use yesterday as an example, I rested all day, felt amazing, better than I had in quite some time, was so happy. I felt like my resting efforts were paying off. I had no stress surrounding my body. My husband and I had a much needed movie and rest day, the vibe was just perfect.
Around 10pm… it felt like a RAGE I bomb was igniting inside of me. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I was scraping an avocado and suddenly felt like I was going to throw it at the wall. Get this, I was making avocado brownies. BROWNIES guys. If there’s ever a time to feel happy and at peace… it’s when making brownies
For those of you reading this that don’t have the disease, Imagine your worst PMS outburst you’ve ever had, and multiply that 1000x – no warning, no control. Just a massive chemical response. And for men, just imagine your most reactive moment, any cause, and Multiply THAT, but keep in mind you have no control over it.
The panic, the anger, the rage, these are all stress hormones. And they come without permission or cause 😐
That’s my best way to explain what living with pheochromocytoma feels like, and it only gets messier with comorbidities that create similar stress responses.
Last night, even after ten+ years of living with this disease, I was still surprised at the intensity of what I felt. It made no sense. Especially because it wasn’t accompanied by the physical response I normally experience. It was purely emotional. To me, there’s nothing worse than feeling out of control of my body.
I did everything right, and my body still betrayed me. It also feels like I’m a broken record when I say “it’s not me, it’s my body! I can’t control it!”
It FEELS like a load of BS, even I sometimes challenge whether or not that’s true and I have the damn disease. So I can’t imagine how hard it is for the people who love us that are in the war path when this happens. That’s the part I hate the most. I’d give anything to be able to control myself at least when it comes to the people I love, I’m sure anyone reading this knows the feeling I’m talking about. The guilt you feel the moment you snap at your loved one about something that makes no sense. Brownies guys. I had an explosive response to making brownies. If it was just me and the brownies, I could have taken it, it’s when you react badly to your loved one. It’s wounding in a way I can’t quite explain. The heavy guilt that comes with it, especially as you utter the words “I can’t control it” …
Even if they know, they understand, and they love you regardless, it doesn’t erase the feeling that I have when this happens. My husband is the most understanding person in my universe, he never takes offence, and he certainly doesn’t make it worse. But … that doesn’t change MY guilt, rational or not, it still sits heavy in my heart
I’d do anything to be able to control my feelings, sometimes I’d prefer the physical response rather than this irrational emotional eruption. Because then it’s just me that has to feel the wrath of my cancer when it’s physical. But then I remind myself, that’s not true either. Your loved one still very much feels it.
And that’s the worst part for me.
Pheo VS Fabulous
What’s your biggest struggle when it comes to living with this disease?
ˈkansər/ – disease; causing the body and mind to adapt, overcome, and embrace change.
Quality of Life:
What do these three seemingly simple words mean to you?
Someone who is living with a permanent illness which will impact their ‘quality of life’ will hear this phrase from time to time. For someone like me, who is considered a ‘palliative care patient’ (which is a polite way of saying my disease will eventually kill me) this term gets thrown around a lot. But do we ever stop to think about what it truly means? Being 30 and terminally ill, I have to think about often.
I used to just see it as a phrase. I actually used to see many things as just phrases, words put together to fill silences in sterile rooms to allow for some sort of relief from the inevitable uncomfortable points of cancer. That is, until you live them and you are intimate with each word. You get to know what each one will mean to you; you get to appreciate what kind of quality you’d like to live, and start to live it. I am going to share my perception of these words, and hopefully they will not just be words to you either.
Before I do that, let me introduce myself. My name is Miranda, I’m a 30 year old with a rare form of terminal cancer called pheochromocytoma. I’ve been living with this disease in some way or another since I was about 17-18, and officially diagnosed at 19. After my initial surgery to remove a large ‘benign’ tumor, I was misdiagnosed with anxiety for 4 years, which led to my eventual terminal cancer diagnosis.
I vowed two things in that moment: one being that I would do everything in my power to prevent this from happening to someone else by sharing my story and learning how to advocate further for rare diseases. I didn’t realize where this vow would take me, eventually filling a large gap for a rare disease that should have never had the opportunity to be terminal. And two, I vowed that cancer would never take my FABULOUS.
I wrote this mission statement when I first started my blog:
“Pheo VS Fabulous was born from the promise that I would never let this disease take away the one thing I could control, and I’ve labeled that my fabulous. When I became ill I realized how much we take for granted, and it started with how day to day tasks are so challenging when you’re battling an illness like pheochromocytoma cancer, that’s when I decided I wouldn’t let it take that away from me. It’s more than just looking a certain way, it’s about BEING fabulous, strong, and positive when you have every reason not to be”
You’re probably wondering, WHAT IS pheochromocytoma? I’ll try to keep it as simple as possible. It’s essentially a tumor or tumor(s) that secrete or produce adrenaline. Adrenaline and noradrenaline are hormones that we actually need to function as the trigger for your body’s ‘fight or flight’ response. These hormones prompt higher blood pressure, a faster heart rate and a boost in other body systems that allow you to react quickly with a burst of energy. *Think, lion attack!* A pheochromocytoma ultimately makes you overdose at any given time on these hormones, without warning, which we pheo people like to call ‘attacks’. Think: lion attack… with no lion? Essentially your tumor is attacking you with your own stinkin’ adrenaline! This causes your body to suddenly react with high blood pressure, increased heart rate and palpitations, and a whole lot of other deadly symptoms. I say deadly because if uncontrolled or untreated, these attacks are life threatening. So not only do I have cancer, but I have a cancer that tries to kill me multiple times a day with it’s poison IN my body. Fun, right? I also don’t just have one, I have metastatic disease and have anywhere from 30+ at any given time. (This is reduced greatly!)
Being so young and considered terminal, I’ve had to learn a lot about the phrase, ‘quality of life’. It’s meant to bring a sense of comfort, a sign that no matter what the cancer is going to take from you, we are going to do our best to keep you comfortable while all of these changes take place, and most importantly, just keep you who you are.
We cannot simply continue to live our pre-cancer, ‘normal lives’…right? Well, I kinda thought I could. I think we all do in some respects, and that’s normal. The difficulty is realizing where you need to adjust your expectations. I didn’t say give up there, did I? Time to ADAPT.
So here comes the hard part, once YOU start to change, no one but you can prepare you for this. The next time you hear “You’re so strong!”, don’t shy away from it. Think about what it means to them, what it means to you, and how you have truly earned it. So, you start changing, and this ‘quality of life’ thing everyone keeps talking about, seems like a very far away ideal at this point.
“How am I supposed to have any sort of Quality of Life when this disease is doing nothing but take take take?”
“I don’t even have a LIFE anymore, how am I supposed to have a ‘quality’ one?”
“Everything I am doing is supposed to ‘provide me with better quality of life’, but after every procedure I’m left feeling worse and can do less.”
“How am I not supposed to lose hope?”
My disease moves quickly, sometimes it seems like I can blink and not recognize myself physically, or suddenly go from walking around seemingly ‘normal’ to being completely bed ridden for months and needing a wheelchair the rest of the time. THAT was the most surprising, and still is… the uncertainty and element of surprise.
Did I tell you how wonderful it feels to simply be a little more kind to yourself?
Change is constant, and I need to be willing to accept that although my life is very different, it’s mine. The fact that I wake up every day is a beautiful thing. Understanding that even the smallest victories are worth celebrating, simple joys are to be found and appreciated every day, because these ‘small’ and ‘simple’ things… probably mean the world to you. I now go through life dreaming that everyone could see it through my eyes. Living with cancer has shown me what a gift life is, the complexity of it all becomes so simple.
Throughout most of my story, I’ve chosen to share personal aspects of my life to help others come to the same realizations and places I have, but hopefully avoid a lot of suffering along the way. I’ve experienced surgeries, clinical trials, treatment after treatment, finding the “best” doctors. I’ve been labelled palliative at 25 years old old, terminal, metastatic, aggressive, all the things you don’t want to hear. I’ve been confined to a bed, a wheelchair, and at times lost my sense of independence. I lost my voice, my ability to share, and my hope. I never thought I’d get through it.
But we did. Because cancer makes you ADAPT and OVERCOME.
I say ‘we’ because my husband goes through all of this with me, from the very beginning. Since my first diagnosis, he’s been by my side. He’s my voice when I don’t have one, and he’s my biggest supporter when I do. He is my caregiver, my everything. And our loved ones go through this journey just as much as we do.
I want to share with you a glimpse of what my life looked like a few years ago, when I thought I only had a year to live, what led me HERE today.
When they first introduced the idea to set up a bed in my living room to improve my quality of life, I thought, “now!? I’m only 25 years old, I’m not putting a hospital bed in my living room, that will never go with my decor!” (priorities, jeeze…).
Remember those simple joys? Small victories? Well THIS was the greatest joy, a godsend, a MASSIVE victory! I could see out a window, have LIFE fluttering around me, I can see my husband cooking in the kitchen, I can see my dogs run around the house, I could go and choose a very pink blanket for my new bed (ha!). I can actually walk to the kitchen and serve myself a drink or snack when I’m feeling well, I can drift off to sleep right in front of my fireplace.
That’s what quality of life is. Those aren’t just words, This is MYlife.
You too will be able to adapt to your new changing situation, overcome your new challenges, and embrace the changes as they come. You just have to remember… your new life is exactly that, a new life. You must explore the beauty it has to show, the joy it has to give, and the blessings it has to offer. Just remember, there’s no right or wrong when it comes to your life. As long as you’re the one who’s smiling at the beginning and end of it!
The most incredible part of this story? I’m 30 now, and after going through all of that, supposedly having a year to live, I’m still here sharing, thriving, and learning more every day.
I’m no longer confined to a bed, I no longer live in constant fear, I have accepted that I’m living with cancer. THRIVING with terminal cancer. I have continued to adapt and overcome and change my circumstances through hard work and advocacy. My quality of life now is a direct result of the information and research we have put into figuring out how to improve my treatments and symptom management, always taking the chance, and fighting so so so pretty.
I have learned how to forgive but not forget in order to continue to help others with this cancer, help them not only live but hopefully thrive. The best part? I never once lost my fabulous.
Fabulous is your light, your smile, your energy, your positivity, your willfulness, your vitality, passion, excitement, beauty, laugh, and how you share it! I can’t wait to share it with all of you, and hopefully have you share with me. I’m so grateful to be part of an incredible community of fierce thrivers. I look forward to seeing YOUR light, smile, and beauty! 🤍🙏🏼
If you had asked me six years ago what I was going to write in 2021 on rare disease day, I’d have told you I wouldn’t be here to share.
I’d have told you what they told me, I maybe have a year left.
I’m writing this to explain specifically the importance of rare disease awareness, not just a day, but every day of my life. I’ve dedicated every ounce of energy I have into sharing my journey, the ups, the downs, the discoveries. In hopes that someone would learn something from my experience.
I’ve always been a dreamer, but this was much bigger. Before I even really understood the impact of awareness, I truly believed that if I shared enough… I could make a difference. The type of difference that could prevent someone from hearing the words “it’s too late, it’s now terminal”. Like we did.
I believed deep in my soul that if I shared enough, I would finally be heard. Someone who needed it would hear me, fate would allow them to gain the knowledge they needed to push for a diagnosis.
I wasn’t even considering the fact that my experience could potentially better inform healthcare workers, and trickle down… creating a knowledge that would never be heard unless experienced by people like me living with the disease.
My first pheochromocytoma was missed because of a lack of knowledge about the disease, it wasn’t the fact that it was too rare to be considered, it just simply wasn’t thought of at all.
My second was different, the knowledge was there, but it was considered too rare to come back. It was overlooked because of the odds. The literature didn’t support what I was experiencing, so it couldn’t possibly be that.
Four years after my first one, I was finally diagnosed with a recurrence. It was misdiagnosed for too long, it spread all over. It’s terminal. I was told I’d have 1-5 years to live max, ‘based on the literature available’. The literature, the incredibly vague and unreliable literature. So little to reference and gain the knowledge needed to empower the patient or even the doctor.
This is when we realized it would become vital to my outcome for us to learn for ourselves. We had to take control of my situation, we had to look for the most knowledgeable doctor to treat me.
We didn’t want to accept my odds. So we started down a new path of self advocacy, learning, and sharing.
I started my blog, documented every treatment, feeling, reaction, change, anything.
I figured, if I’m going to die, I want to leave behind the gift of information. I wanted to re-write the literature. There was such a gap of information at that time, I wanted to help fill a small part of it.
As I shared, I started to connect with more and more people. I was learning more every day. So I kept sharing what I learned.
This new wealth of information would impact my treatment decisions, my ability to strongly advocate for myself, and be part of all decisions regarding my health.
That’s the thing with awareness for rare disease, it’s not just a cute buzz word. It’s life changing. The information we received from others was what kept me alive. It’s what allowed me to bring up my own suggestions, and avoid doing things I knew wouldn’t work for my situation.
Each new step of my journey, I would share with others, and the cycle would continue. The wealth of information and knowledge keeps growing, and we keep changing outcomes. We keep improving quality of life, and we help healthcare professionals better understand us. Leading to proper care and diagnosis.
Of course I can dream so big that if we become less rare… it can lead to a cure. And yes, it can. One day.
But for right now, I’m focusing on preventing it from getting to my stage in the first place. Where it’s incurable. If we can share enough, if we can continue to become less rare, it will be diagnosed earlier and able to be treated.
For those of us who are past that stage, like me, becoming less rare means proper treatment protocols, better treatment options, symptom management, improved quality of life, and the knowledge to be treated effectively in emergency situations. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked…
“well what do YOU normally do when this happens?”
The knowledge we share will continue to educate all parties involved, making situations like this happen far less often.
I actually never dreamed of a day where I’d hear “because of your blog”…..
That’s the power of sharing, the impact of awareness.
It shouldn’t fall entirely on the patient, but our experiences are how we all continue to learn.
I am still here today because of knowledge, because of awareness. Plain and simple.
Each new mind that hears the word “pheochromocytoma”, has the ability to share that with someone else, and so on. You can never know how this will impact the person hearing it.
So keep sharing while you can.
I know I will.
The most suffering I ever experienced was not being able to use my voice. Not having the ability to share.
I hope you will help me continue to share my message, my story, my journey, my experience, and my dream.
My husband and I often say “we have cancer”. A cancer diagnosis affects everyone involved, your spouse, your kids, parents, your friends, anyone who is a pivotal part of your life.
Anytime we’re in the doctors office we catch ourselves saying “we”, and we will be greeted with odd looks. But that’s the thing, WE do have cancer. It hits home like a bomb, it shakes up all of our worlds. One is physically fighting the disease, the other is fighting in every other way on their behalf.
We fight for one another when the other is down, we are each other’s voice when we don’t have one, and we continue to carry the load whenever we need to for one another. That’s a partnership. That’s a family.
The first instinct that everyone wants to do is help, fix, and act. Everyone gets into a very adrenaline like state the first few months after diagnosis, just going through the motions, trying to hold it together. This is normal.
However, it’s so important to be communicating. My husband and I in the beginning would hide our feelings a lot not to upset each other more. We didn’t even realize we were doing it.
He would be so overwhelmed with the fear of losing me, and I’d be overwhelmed with the thought of losing him. I hear a lot of people go through the same experience, but the issue is we often don’t communicate our fears to one another. This can be challenging for a lot of people.
We end up getting a bit edgy, holding in so many toxic emotions, we need an outlet. We HAVE to talk about it!
It’s important for it at least sometimes be with each other, that way everyone knows how sensitive to be with one another, how patient, and where your mindsets are at.
The thing is with the instinct to act, is that we’re always wanting to jump into motion the moment our loved one is suffering. We want to find a solution, fix their problem. We try to control all the things we can control.
Meanwhile feeling completely helpless, and out of control.
It’s a vicious cycle.
Even after all this time fighting this disease, and knowing it’s better to just listen to someone’s fears and thoughts… whenever my husband is having a tough time or not feeling well, I STILL have the instinct to react and try to mend my his heart, his body, or his mind. I think it’s just in our nature.
So I can only imagine how he feels with me. He has way more restraint than I do though! 🤭
That’s the thing, once we understand that we will ALWAYS have that immediate urge to fix… but first, we must listen! Truly listen. Let the other person talk whenever they’re ready, only when they’re ready. Offer for them to talk about what’s bothering them, ask them..
“do you want to talk about it?” Don’t push too much or ask too many questions. Just be a sounding board. Also, giving a choice is very empowering.
When the person has truly gotten everything off of their chest, in time… we can start introducing helpful solutions, small acts of care, and things that help, but not necessarily FIX… just alleviate some of the pain or pressure they’re holding onto.
This can be by simple things. Like massage, meditating together, taking a walk in the fresh air, setting a time each week to have vent and have an open communication session, anything that works for your rhythm in your household.
It’s so important to remember that when someone is sick, we are ALL feeling it in different ways. Add on the pressure of the pandemic…. and oooo boy, it really is a life altering and uncertain time.
When supporting one another, try to think:
“how would I want someone to respond to ME right now?”
“What would make me feel better in this situation?”
“What kind of support would I appreciate after sharing what I just shared?”
If we are mindful of this, we can offer better support to our partner or family. Anyone who is involved.
If you’re trying to support a friend or a family member (not your partner or someone in the household), the same rules apply. You should consider everyone involved.
So if you’d like to reach out and help, try to make suggestions that take a bit of pressure of everyone.
Whether that be a kind gesture like offering to bring groceries, drive them to an appointment to give the care giver a break, or simply send them a little thoughtful note, letter, book, maybe an uplifting journal, anything to just brighten their day. As we all know, most of us have more bad days than good.. so chances are, you will completely change their day or week with one small gesture of help or kindness.
I will share more soon on how to support a loved one with cancer, but for now I just found it important to remind us all…
35 things we wish you knew about having a rare cancer, chronic disease, or rare illness.
Here’s the thing, before I start… I want you to know that I’ve asked hundreds of patients fighting this disease and others to chime in on what we wish you knew. This post is not entirely from my perspective, but it’s all the things I feel.
It’s important to know that we all don’t fit into one neat little box. We all have our own perspectives and things that bother us and things we wish you knew.
This is my effort to put as many of these together and help as many of our friends, family, and support systems understand where we’re coming from living with this disease.
It’s hard enough to live with cancer, chronic illness, or rare disease, but it’s even harder to not be understood.
We know we’re complicated, but we didn’t ask to be this way.
I sincerely hope that this brings you a level of comfort knowing that there are ways of communicating with your loved ones, if you just take the time to understand. Having a rare disease requires knowledge, patience, and a lot of understanding.
You may not always have the right thing to say, but it’s best to just ask.
So, here goes nothing.
1. I wish you knew that I’m in pain every.single.day, even when I don’t show it. It’s always there. Imagine waking up every single morning and every part of you hurting… with no hope of it going away, and every movement you make, it just gets worse throughout the day.
2. I wish you knew that I hate answering “how I’m doing”. I feel like you don’t want a long winded answer, but that’s often all I’ve got. So I’ll often tell you “I’m fine, or okay” just to answer. I wish you’d ask something specific so that I can be honest.
3. I wish you knew I don’t feel “brave or strong”. I didn’t have a choice to wake up with cancer or any co-morbidities. I’m not brave because I have cancer, I’m not strong because I have cancer, I was forced into this life.
4. I wish you knew I felt uncomfortable when you say I’m an inspiration because I have cancer. If I’ve done something to deserve it, and it’s well intentioned, I appreciate it. Actually, I appreciate it regardless. But I just wish it wasn’t such an automatic response to having cancer. Having cancer doesn’t get to all of a sudden make you not a shitty person if you are one 😂 it doesn’t immediately make you an inspiration. At least, we don’t feel that way.
5. I wish you wouldn’t say you’re sorry when I tell you I have cancer. I don’t know how to respond and it makes me uncomfortable. It’s like we’re forced to say “it’s okay”, but… it’s not okay. Please try and be sensitive to speaking to someone with an illness, it’s uncomfortable for all involved but it doesn’t have to be. You can be sorry, it sucks, but maybe ask us more about our disease, open up a dialogue to understand us better. We appreciate that more than being felt sorry for.
6. I wish you knew that not all pheochromocytoma is cancerous, but even when it’s “benign” it’s just as dangerous and often can turn into cancer. The C word is what scares people, but it should be the P word that frightens you more. Pheochromocytoma is the disease we fight. Benign, malignant, it doesn’t matter. It’s one of the scariest diseases out there.
7. I wish people would understand that just because I had surgery to remove the pheochromocytoma tumor, they often do and will come back. We’re never really “done” or cancer free. If it is cancer, we live with it for life. It’s a terminal illness. Despite all the treatments and surgeries we get, it’s a way of managing the disease, not curing it.
8. I wish people understood how many triggers there are with this disease. My tumors literally hate everything. My skin feels like it’s on fire within 30 seconds of sun exposure. I can’t take a hot shower without having an “attack”. I can’t walk far or fast without provoking an attack. I can’t get too excited. I can’t get stressed. I can’t blow dry my hair without being soaked in sweat. I sometimes can’t do the dishes without provoking an attack. It can be something big like exercising or something small like getting dressed, but it can and will happen without any notice. There are certain foods we can’t eat because it’s a trigger. Loud noises. The list goes on, it may be helpful when we tell you this that you do a bit of research yourself to understand us more and what we go through. Maybe start here.
9. I wish you would look up my disease every once and a while before exhausting me. I’m happy to talk about my disease, I’m happy to explain it, but I don’t want to have to repeat myself 1000 times because you refuse to do the research. If you care, you should want to know more.
10. I wish you understood that my cancer is different than other cancers. These tumors are different than any other tumor. They are adrenaline secreting tumors. I wish you understood what impact adrenaline has on the body. It’s debilitating, it’s dangerous, it’s lethal, and can be deadly. People hear “we produce too much adrenaline” and picture a scene from an action movie. No, it’s not fun. We don’t have superpowers, and it doesn’t give us more strength. It’s the opposite. Read here about what having an attack of adrenaline is like.
11. I wish you understood that even if I look perfectly well in photos or even in real life, you should see my insides! It takes many hours to look “normal”. We do it to take the pressure off of ourselves and you, but it doesn’t mean we’re even close to being ok. Many people do this with chronic illnesses, so that they can feel more like themselves. It doesn’t make them any less sick, in pain, or uncomfortable.
12. I wish you knew how uncomfortable I am when you say “well I hope they fix you soon” or “you’ll feel better tomorrow”. These comments can sometimes be belittling to our disease because they can’t “fix” us. We won’t feel better tomorrow. We will never be normal. These are just facts, it’s not negativity. If you don’t know what to say to someone with this disease, try to pick up on their feelings, responding with “wow that must be rough on you” or acknowledging our pain isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t always have to be cheery sunshines.
13. I wish people wouldn’t say “I lost the battle to cancer” or anything along those lines. Cancer didn’t win. Everyone dies. When someone dies of a heart attack, they don’t say “the heart attack won”. Fighting cancer isn’t a choice and shouldn’t be summed up to determine our strength or how well we fought it.
14. I wish you understood that getting a good nights rest or going out to get some fresh air isn’t an option for me sometimes. Yes these things feel good and I hope I can do them more often, but it’s not going to magically make me better. Please understand that this disease is more complicated than even the doctors understand, so no amount of nutrition, exercise, fresh air, will sort us out.
15. I wish you knew how much I just want to live a normal life again.
16. I wish you knew how different I feel and out of place I am.
17. I wish you knew that it will never be normal again.
18. I wish you knew the fear I feel even after the disease is removed, we have to wait in fear as it comes back one day.
19. I wish you wouldn’t avoid me because you feel uncomfortable talking to me. There are so many resources to be able to talk to a friend with a chronic illness, cancer, or any disease. A true friend will never be disappointed in what you said, but we will help you better understand it. We’d rather you learn with us rather than cut us off completely.
20. I wish you knew how much I appreciate when you say “no matter what happens, we will get through this”
21. I wish you knew how much I appreciate when you say “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what happens” and live up to that.
22. I wish that if it’s too hard for you to be there for me, you’d explain it. If you’ve lost someone with cancer and it’s hard on you to relive it, I wish you’d say that. We often blame ourselves when we lose friends gradually and never know why. We beat ourselves up about what we did wrong. We’re incredibly lonely. It’d be nice to have an explanation or try to talk things out, even if it’s difficult.
23. I wish people knew how many comorbidities this disease causes. High blood pressure, heart failure, adrenal insufficiency, chronic pain, kidney disease, bone disease.
24. I wish our doctors would actually SEE the patient in front of them. Understand that we are different. When I get my blood pressure taken and it’s in the “perfect zone” but for ME it’s actually considered high because of the amount of medication I’m on to lower it. Listen! When we tell you what the Pheo does to our bodies and what an attack is, listen! Learn from us. Know that we’re a different breed of disease. Take us seriously, we often know more than the medical staff. Just because we appear to be okay, and don’t fit in your medical mold you’ve created, doesn’t mean we’re not sick! This would prevent a lot of misdiagnosed patients, and speed up the diagnostic process if you’d just LISTEN to us.
25. I wish that you knew behind my smile, there’s so much pain. I’m exhausted, I still have to go on everyday and live my life despite this illness. But I’m tired. Not just take a nap tired, but physically and mentally exhausted from living with something that’s trying to kill me everyday.
26. I wish you knew what living in “constant fight or flight” meant. Never being able to shut off. Always having adrenaline pumping through your veins.
27. I wish you understood that your anxiety is not the same as what my anxiety from this disease feels like. I’m not talking about normal anxiety that anyone can get, I’m talking about chemically induced anxiety panic that is caused by an overflow of hormones in my body. It’s like anxiety on steroids mixed in with impending doom and a dash of dread.
28. I wish you knew how much this disease alters the trajectory of our lives. We can’t plan, we have to live minute to minute. We’re often told were lucky because it’s a slow growing illness and so even if we die, we’ll have plenty of time. Excuse me?!!! The level of ignorance here is just inexcusable.
29. I wish you’d understand that under all of the things I’ve talked about today, I’m still the same person! I’m still here. Treat me that way. I still have hopes, dreams, I still like the same jokes, I still have the same interests. I am not my cancer. I don’t want you to only treat me like I’m “normal” when I look “normal”. I want to be treated normal even when I’m at my sickest, especially when I’m at my sickest!
30. I wish you wouldn’t ask “how are you?” But “is there anything I can do for you?
31. I wish you knew that even after taking 20 different medications, I don’t feel better. They allow me to get up and semi function, but they’re not a cure.
32. I wish you understood there isn’t a cure.
33. I wish you understood that I can’t control my anger or emotions. It’s not me, it’s literally my tumors deciding what mood I’ll be in at that particular moment.
34. I wish I didn’t have to talk about any of this.
35. I wish I never heard the word pheochromocytoma.
I hope this helped get a glimpse into our world, and I hope you can use this as a resource with your friends and family when you want them to understand more.
If there’s anything I missed, or anything YOU want to ask, please leave a comment down below and I’ll do my best. Don’t forget to share
Doesn’t mean I’m terminally ill, confused? I was too.
I still might be, but I think it’s time someone explained what it is to have a terminal rare disease.
With rare disease day approaching, I’d like to do my part in educating about this rare terminal illness I LIVE with everyday.
When I received my grim diagnosis of metastatic pheochromocytoma, it followed with “you have 1-5 years to live”. I was sentenced to death, and given a time frame to live my life. It’s haunted me ever since. It’s shaped how I perceive my world and how I went about living in it.
It didn’t have to be this way…
Delivering a diagnosis should be one of the most sensitive topics there ever is in a career. It should explain the illness you’re facing, and explain how to live with it.
Just because I’m terminally ill doesn’t mean I have to die…
It can take years upon years to die, a terminal illness means you will EVENTUALLY die of that illness, but no one should be signing your death certificate.
Just because I’m terminally ill doesn’t change the standard of care, I want to live. I deserve every treatment, every intervention, every respect that someone else with a chronic condition or just a condition gets.
I’m still living, and should be treated that way.
Just because I’m terminally ill, shouldn’t mean I’m given palliative care to help me die.
It means I should be given palliative care options to help me live, to extend my life, to improve my quality of life.
Just because I’m terminally ill, doesn’t mean I don’t have a beautiful life ahead of me.
It just looks and feels different than yours, but it’s still worth living.
When I was given my grim diagnosis, it’s all I could think about. Everyday, dying. My time was ticking. My rights were being taken away as a normal patient.
Just because I’m terminally ill, doesn’t mean I should sign a DNR to get treatment
Yes, this is illegal. But it didn’t stop the hospitals around me from withdrawing treatment, and making me too scared to call an ambulance when in an emergency because I thought they’d kill me.
Just because I’m terminally ill, shouldn’t mean I had to move three hours away to be close to a hospital who gets this.
It’s so important to have proper, quality, care. Doctors who understand what a terminal illness is, that are willing and excited to treat your rare disease with the respect it deserves. Ready to give you the respect you deserve.
Just because I’m terminally ill doesn’t mean I should have no dignity…
When I was “dying”, I lost my dignity last. I held onto it for quite some time, but eventually it went away. It was the hardest thing to lose, it shouldn’t have happened, but it did. It didn’t have to be this way.
I don’t consider myself dying anymore, I consider myself someone who’s living with a terminal illness.
I consider myself someone who will eventually succumb to this disease, but not for a very long time.
I consider myself someone who’s fought hard and long enough to share this information with you all.
I consider myself someone who can help change the way terminal illness is perceived.
If you receive that grim diagnosis, please, please, don’t give up. There ARE treatments that work.
There IS a way to be stable.
Quality of life CAN be different.
You need support, in all forms, you need palliative care, (proper care), you need a team of doctors who listen and respect you. Most of all.. you need hope. That’s what this gives you, your hope to hold onto and never let go.