Bugger!

Well I didn't think I could hate 2020 anymore than I did last week and bugger me it had some more treats in store for me. Sometimes even I find it hard to believe the stunts my body pulls.

I managed to have my first migraine with a proper full blown aura in 6 years on Friday morning which takes some beating. I was reading the newspaper online when I became aware of the fact that my left eye was struggling to see the words on the screen, in fact words were missing and the screen seemed ultra bright. I knew straight away that it was probably a migraine but I thought, it has been so long. Maybe it is the sun shining through the window hitting the screen and that's why I can't see? I struggled on for a few more minutes the weird thing was when I was looking at the screen my vision was fine. Then I looked across at Mr Myasthenia Kid and half his face was missing. At that point there was no mistaking this was a good old fashioned migraine. The last one of this type I had on my 40th Birthday how's that for timing?

Hubby immediately sprang into action and got my migraine grab bag so I could take all my meds and then go back to bed. I absolutely hate the aura stage of a migraine which for me can last up to an hour before the headache begins. During that hour the visual disturbance just gets worse and worse, even with my eyes closed in a dark room. There is no escape from it and it leaves me feeling terribly disorientated. I am so grateful to have finally been prescribed sumatriptan, it is my wonder drug as it really does just halt the migraine in its tracks. Some days I feel as rough as a badgers arse, for those of you outside the UK this is what a badgers arse looks like. Other days I may feel a wee bit groggy but after a few hours I can do some bits and pieces and I am not totally wiping out a day. It really has been life changing. However the number of migraines I have been having lately has been averaging around 2 a week and I am heartily sick of having them. Of course it is now leading up to the window that always means migraine time the 18-22nd of each month. I am hoping ( god loves my optimism) that this month I wont get it but who knows? I have had more than my fair share these last 4 weeks.

So that was Friday, which was then followed by an eventful Saturday. About an hour after I got up on Saturday a nice bout of Vertigo started. The room did one spin every so often and when I walked / stumbled really anywhere it felt like I was on a boat. Thankfully I always have a stash of meds nearby for this and to be fair it has been quite a while since I had the spins. I sat down with a coffee and tried to relax and let the medication do its thing. After a while I was bored so I decided to go and sit out in the garden. Big mistake as I went arse over tit over a plant pot ( concrete ) that Mr Myasthenia Kid has so helpfully left in the middle of the patio. Had it been a normal day I may have been able to right myself but with vertigo? Not a fucking hope - apologies for the language today it is just happening. So I tumbled across the patio all the time trying to right myself without success. I realised at this point that I was going to end up crashing through the fence and falling 4ft down onto the patio in front of our shed if I didn't stop staggering, so with the fake turf on top of the gravel I aimed my dive onto that figuring it would hurt a lot less than landing on the gravel.

Gracefully I hit the deck and if you believe that, you will believe anything. Immediately I was in a world of pain, both wrists, my left shoulder, my left knee, my left buttock and all along the left side of my back.

The only reason I didn't scream obscenities out loud was because the neighbours children were playing in the garden and I didn't want to teach them anymore bad language than I had already. Most of it was aimed at Mr Myasthenia Kid for being so stupid as to leave a bloody plant pot right in front of the patio doors! When he knows my vision is a bit dodgy and I can lose the sight in one eye if my ptosis strikes and I can't open my right eye.

So all my plans of sewing etc went out the window. Instead I spent the day dosing myself up on pain killers and sitting on hot water bottles. My ankle blew up like a balloon, i had to take my slipper boots off because it got so large it was starting to feel constricted. I was bloody furious because I needn't have fallen and I hate feeling vulnerable like that. I forgot to say the minute I landed on the artificial grass Dembe came rushing over showering me in kisses checking I was ok. Initially he wouldn't let me get up until he had checked that I wasn't seriously hurt.

Sunday was spent doing crochet very slowly as my wrists were still throbbing from the fall and my left leg was elevated all day due to the swelling. I still hurt all over but at least nothing was broken. 

Thankfully the vertigo was gone by Sunday morning, my leak is still causing me problems. It is still there and some days the head pain is worse than ever. I am still attempting to pace myself by lying down every few hours but it is difficult when I get absorbed in something to remember to. I only remember when my head starts feeling like it is crushed in a vice and all screens seem to be burning the back of my retinas.

As I am the worlds worst person at pacing myself due to the fact that giving up work due to my disabilities has made me feel like I contribute nothing at all to society, I push myself constantly beyond what is sensible and then end up paying for my stupidity. I feel that everything I do has to be better than everyone else so that people don't feel sorry for me and that I don't look weak or vulnerable. The fact that the falls and faints have become much more regular occurrences is making me feel very vulnerable and it is doing a number on my mental health. I have always struggled with never ever feeling anything I do is good enough and probably also a bit of impostor syndrome (find out more here. ) People can tell me that what I have sewn or embroidered is the best thing ever, my blog could be awarded a Nobel prize for literature but I would still be waiting for one person to say that my work is shit. It is hard to live with the constant fear that people will discover that what you do is actually crap. Add in physical disabilities and you have a wonderful mixture of weird ideas running through your head, not only are you not good enough creatively but you can't even do the stuff normal people do. It makes you feel less than. Which is why I probably do push myself too hard to prove I am worthy of my place within society.

Word for this week is Bugger!

A lovely photo of Dembe to lift your spirits

I hate 2020

I hate 2020 with a passion not just for Covid-19 and not being able to see anyone but I also hate it because it has been a year of non stop health problems. It is driving me insane and I am starting to feel that "normal people" / "well people" or even people that don't know me that well are thinking that I am either a) exaggerating the impact on me or b) I'm attention seeking. I rarely say much on social media about my health due to this. I am probably more honest on Instagram than I am anywhere. But a few times i have mentioned health issues on my own account on Facebook and now I am left doubting myself, worrying that people will think awful things about me. Believe me if I wanted attention there are a million and one other ways I could get it, being sick wouldn't be the one I would use!

So this year I am struggling with Migraines, Menopause ( I am just 4 months away from officially being in it although technically I could have been in it at any point in the last 5 years, with the pill stopping my period I can only properly count from last December), bowel adhesion's, ptosis and now my absolute favourite my CSF leak is back. I've had two good, well reasonable years with minimal symptoms. My symptoms when they have shown up have been in the evening with a dull headache and light sensitivity. Suddenly out of the blue last Thursday, my head started hurting and when you have had a spinal fluid leak you know that headache there is no confusion, the pain is like nothing else.

To describe a CSF leak headache is difficult, purely because there is really nothing else in the world that feels like it other than a post lumbar puncture headache or meningitis. I am extremely lucky at the moment that it is mild, strong enough to have me lying flat but not hugging the toilet bowl waiting for death. I was on my embroidery machine when I lent forward as I moved back my brain felt like it had been slammed between two bricks . Then my eyes were struggling to cope with the LED lights on the machine. I finished up as quickly as I could and then lay down on the sofa. Slowly over the space of an hour the pain eased. Although that was a good thing, it also chilled me to the bone as only a CSF leak headache eases so quickly on lying down. So my worst fears had been confirmed.

When Jay got home from work I spoke to him about it. He replied with "well don't panic just yet you get days where it plays up more than ever". Whilst he was right , this was different, this was stronger than it has been before. I could hardly blame him for trying to be optimistic maybe I would have been had I not already suffered two migraines that week and forgotten to write a blog post. It hadn't been a good week and now it was getting worse. I replied that yes he was probably right and maybe a good nights sleep would help. I really hoped that it would be but I knew in my heart that it wouldn't.

On waking up on Friday morning, I didn't get the electric shock like feeling like I would back in 2016 when it was at it worst. I managed several hours upright before the pain started. I am afraid I pushed it and stayed up longer than I should have done. I did exactly the same on Saturday, staying upright and not resting like I should have done. I don't know why I did it. Probably I was in denial and I was determined I wasn't going to let a "little" thing like a leak get the better of me. There were things I wanted to do, I refused to go back to the dark place I was in, during 2016. 

However health problems don't work that way, when things are bad you can't pretend they aren't happening. There is no distracting yourself from the pain when you have a CSF leak as the longer you try to ignore it the worse it gets and it wont stop until you lie down. If you push it too far eve lying down won't stop it. From Friday I had increased my salt intake upping my salt tablets back to 10 a day, I had also increased my caffeine intake. Both caffeine and salt increase CSF production.

With the Menopause involved this time increasing caffeine has the added bonus of triggering hot flushes. The more caffeine I consume the worse the hot flushes are getting. Which is just fucking fantastic as caffeine is the only thing that helps quite quickly. So I spend the whole time stripping off due to getting overheated and then no sooner has the flush started I am then freezing cold. Hormones have a lot to answer for.

By Sunday I had completely blown it, my head felt like it was in a vice my eyeballs felt like they had been set on fire every time I looked at my phone, used my laptop or watched the TV. I ended up spending all day lying down either in bed or on the sofa. But as like in 2016 and 2018 ( my first re-occurrence of the leak), my back due to EDS wouldn't let me do more than 12 hours flat. I felt so down about the pain being so bad and I really felt like maybe I had been an idiot fighting against it for three days . 

Thankfully 24 hours of lying flat has got it to a better place but I am still having to lie down much more than I want to. I managed 4 hours upright on Monday and 3 hours on Tuesday before lying down.  I was much more careful on Tuesday ( today) as dog training is re-starting . With it being held in the evening which is my worst time for the head pain, I am having to rest a lot to ensure that I don't end up having to battle through the pain whilst there. 

To add a little variety into the mix at 6.50am I woke up in agony with bowel adhesion pain. I keep getting bouts of it out of no where. I ended up having to wake Jay up so he could get me a drink and a hot water bottle as I couldn't move without making the pain worse. I took some Buscopan, Oramorph and thought there would be no way I would get back to sleep and then the next thing I knew it was 9am and Dembe was snuggled up beside me. I can't work out what the hell is going on with this year. It is exhausting me with all the plot twists. If my life was a TV drama most people would be complaining it was unbelievable, no one is that unlucky....I've also lost my hospital consultant as the health authority he works for has decided that he is not allowed to see patients outside his catchment area. The hospital I used to go to before him, has no PoTs clinic at all as the consultant has retired. So basically if you are outside Plymouth you have been thrown ti the wolves.

But apparently my health needs no consultant input, as I am such an easy patient to manage! I hate 2020!

Covid 19 / Corona Virus

I hate to be one of those people who look like they are jumping on the bandwagon but even I am finding it hard not to get a little anxious about the huge fucking elephant in the room which is the Corona Virus or Covid 19 to give it, it's official term.
https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/coronavirus-covid-19/

People I talk to about it automatically assume that as I go out very little I am effectively self isolating / quarantining myself. What they forget is that Mr Myasthenia Kid works in retail, after healthcare probably one of the worst occupations to be in for exposure to this virus. Why? well because of customers firstly, many of these superstores have customer bases in the tens of thousands not just the 100 people that you may notice whilst you are in store shopping. Then there are the staff, who will drag themselves into work rather than face the indignity of the attendance policy and have a black mark against their names. So we have the 7th circle of hell right there. So whatever Mr Myasthenia Kid is exposed to rest assured he will unwittingly then be sharing with me. And that really concerns me.

Technically I am not in a high risk group, although I have PoTs it isn't an issue with my heart. It is a problem with the autonomic nervous system, whilst when I get an infection it makes the PoTs symptoms a million times worse ( causing more palpitations, shortness of breath and syncope / fainting) it won't kill me, unless I happen to faint in a dangerous situation. EDS also doesn't mean I am at any higher risk, my only issue is that whilst I am used to joint pain etc - it still hurts, I can't lie around in bed for days without causing myself more pain due to my back. So whilst I may feel like I need to be in bed I will have to get up and sit / lie on the sofa to ease my back. What worries me and is the name of my blog is the possibly seronegative / undiagnosed Myasthenia Gravis that I have been dealing with since 2007.

Myasthenia Gravis can cause a respiratory crisis which means the patients muscles become paralysed and they can no longer move their rib cage or diaphragm and therefore can't breathe. I have been blue lighted to hospital back in 2008 with such an issue and was very close indeed to being placed on a ventilator so that they could take my breathing over for me. I was taken immediately to resus and placed on oxygen at 15 litres a minute. After a few hours I was doing a lot better but I was exhausted and slept close to 48 hours solid after that little adventure. I still have home Oxygen now a cylinder and a concentrator as I have the super power of suddenly being unable to breathe properly. I also use the oxygen in the treatment of my migraines, when I am not in such a bad way that I can't remember I have it. So this is my fear, whilst technically I don't have a diagnosis of Myasthenia ( when I started the blog I did it was removed in 2009/10 ) I respond well to the treatment of Pyridostigmine Bromide also known as Mestinon which resolves my ptosis and weak muscles within 30 minutes of taking it. Maybe it isn't MG but some other neuromuscular issue whatever it is this is what is scaring me about Covid-19.

My other fear is should I be unlucky enough to end up seriously ill with the virus, a doctor with no idea about my life or the quality of it could ( due to limited resources ) be making decisions about whether or not my life is worth saving. They may not realise that I have lots of friends, a loving husband, a gorgeous doggy, a very happy fulfilled life with my sewing / embroidery / quilting. That I help run the largest PoTs Support Group on Facebook for the UK and ROI ( nearly 5k members) all they will see lying in front of them is a disabled woman who hasn't worked for 12 years and is my life worth less due to their views on disability? I have actually found those in the medical profession can be the ones with the worst attitude towards the disabled and do see things as black and white as who is economically worth saving. The medical profession like all walks of life hold a variety of views on the disabled some nice and some totally abhorrent. I should imagine their are many other disabled people out there worrying about whether their lives will be deemed worthy enough to save should difficult decisions have to be made because resources within the NHS ( ICU beds, HDU beds and ECMO machines).

In some ways this all feels like we are sat here waiting for the zombie Apocalypse to start. There have been many complaints that the NHS 111 website is potentially missing many thousands of possible Covid-19 sufferers due to the questions it is asking. Basically unless you have been to an area that is now rife with it or have been in contact with a person with a diagnosis of Covid-19 you aren't being tested. The main issue now is that many people who have this illness very mildly are  now amongst us spreading the virus and there will be those who are super spreaders who show no symptoms themselves but pass it on to everyone around them, latter-day Typhoid Marys if you will. There are so many known unknowns with this new illness that no one is quite sure how badly countries will be affected.

The fact that just this morning ( Wednesday 11th March ) The Bank of England has cut interest rates and they believe that the UK will now be entering a recession just adds to my concern that this is going to be a very scary time. When have you ever heard of the Bank of England cutting interest rates due to a virus?

I know many people who read my blog will have their own health anxieties and I really don't want to add to them. But I do believe it would be ridiculous not to talk about this. I can't be the only one that is worrying and I want to let you know it is ok to be concerned and to practice extra hand-washing. Whats not ok is to let your fears take over your life and stop you enjoying life.

So just some practical tips - not encouraging bulk buying in any way

- Ensure that you have all your regular medications and keep on top of your repeat requests. Just so you don't run out.

- If you were to have to self isolate do you have family members or a friend who can get shopping for you? reach out on local community pages and find out if there is anyone willing to lend a hand should you find yourself in this position and you have no close friends or family nearby.

- Ensure you don't allow yourself to run out of the basics. Keep a note pad in your kitchen and when you see something is running low write it down. Then next time you go to the shops or have some one go / order online you won't forget. Again I am not encouraging bulk buying but ensuring you have enough to last a few days so that you aren't in a situation with nothing at all.

- Wash sheets and towels on a 60 degreeC setting to ensure you kill as many germs as possible. Try and stay on top of these tasks so that at least you have clean towels and bedding should you get sick.

- If you don't have it set up get internet banking or a mobile banking app set up. So you can pay bills, buy online etc So if you are sick you don't have to worry about getting to a bank etc 

- Have pets? ensure you have their food in. We did a bulk cooking session for Dembe on Sunday and have frozen it. So if we are sick he will still have food. If you have a dog and they need walked speak to friends and family and see if they will help out should you need it.

- Ask anyone that visits to not come if they are feeling under the weather. If they are bringing stuff to you get them to leave it on the doorstep. I would rather upset someone by saying I would rather they didn't spread their germs than have them coughing and sneezing all over me.

- If you have prepayment metres and can afford it ensure these are loaded up. If you can't speak to your supplier and see if they can help at all should you become ill and not be able to top these up. Many people are going to be in the same boat, so I should imagine they will be getting plans in place to ensure customers are supported. The press will have a field day if people are being left without power.

If you can think of any other hints and tips please leave them in the comments.

Stay safe and stay well.

Reflections

The start of a new year always makes me a little reflective. I always think that now I am in my forties I should have my shit together. When I was a teenager people in their forties all seemed to know what they were doing, were confident and self assured. Now I am in my forties I realise like everyone else my age that those forty year old's I admired were just winging it. No one has got their shit together and we all are just making it up as we go along. All that those 40 year old's had that I didn't as a teenager was life experience. I don't think there will ever be a eureka moment in my life where I feel like I have figured everything out. I think I will forever be winging it and pretending that I know what the hell I am doing.

As you get older I do think you appreciate the simpler things in life. You put home, happiness and friendships above the material things. You also start to refuse to put up with so much crap or maybe it is you finally get the courage to start putting yourself first for a change. At the end of last year I made some quite sweeping changes. I reassessed some relationships, I binned some, I reinvigorated others. I pushed myself to make an effort with those I didn't want to lose. It is funny during the hard times you really notice who runs towards you and who runs away. And there is the third group of people those that in public or on a public forum make all the right noises but do nothing practically to help.I have noticed this a lot over the last 4 years.

 Those of you who follow the blog or know me personally know that basically over the last 4 years Mr Myasthenia Kid and I have been to hell and back. Briefly ( which is a laugh as even briefly so much has happened each event is a blog post in itself) in 2016 I developed a CSF leak which left me confined to my bed for much of the year and if not in bed lying down. It made socialising very hard, several of my friends were wonderful but one in particular would make all the right noises you know the "just let me know if you need anything" and when you did ask you were met with radio silence or a long list of excuses as to why they couldn't help. I will never ever be able to repay Imogen for how she helped us during that year, looking after the dogs at the drop of a hat for 8 hours whilst I got treatment at a hospital an hour away. Same for my parents who when Imogen couldn't help would come up and drive me back down to the hospital a journey of over 100 miles. 

In 2017 we lost our dear friend of over 20 years, Andrew, in a car accident, his passing made me realise I needed to make more of an effort to stay in contact with my friends as none of us are guaranteed a tomorrow let alone a next week. In this year I also lost a family friend of many years who I would have regular conversations with via Facebook Messenger and telephone calls, although we never met in person. Later that year I was to learn my Grandmother and my dear friend Pam ( my neighbour twice and the person I saw most other than my husband) had both been diagnosed with lung cancer, Willow our 11 year old Weimaraner passed away on December 15th and it broke my heart. Due to the events of the following January I don't think we ever mourned her passing properly. Both Imogen and Heather rushed to my side that day. Another friend offered but I realised at that point that I didn't want her there at the time I was surprised by my feelings but let it pass thinking it was grief.

In January 2018 we lost both my Grandmother, despite knowing that both their diagnosis had been terminal we had lived in a bubble that it wasn't going to happen. I had many conversations with Pam, she moved between despair and complete denial. It was emotionally hard going for me, which probably sounds quite selfish and self absorbed but I challenge anyone to listen to your friend of over 20 years talk about the fact they are dying and walk away untouched. Pam passed away the same week Andrew had a year earlier, which I have always found quite bizarre, especially since Pam had accompanied Jay and I to Andrews funeral less than a year earlier.

 We had no idea then at the ticking time bomb that was contained within Pams body. Looking back now there were subtle signs that something wasn't right, she had looked really tired all the time etc a whole heap of little symptoms that added together were something deadly. Even if we had known then I doubt much could have been done but it makes me angry that mistakes were made in her care and the people that made those mistakes have got away with it. 

When Pam passed away both H and Immie rushed to be by my side again. The other friend basically told me she was coming, despite me saying that she wasn't needed. It was uncomfortable, for everyone as it was like there was a cuckoo in the nest.  I didn't know why I didn't want her there, I just knew that if I was hurting she was the last person I wanted present. I should have listened more to what I was feeling and realised that those feelings were a huge red flag. But instead I blamed myself, telling myself I was cruel and unreasonable to be feeling like that. 
Reflecting back on the situation the lesson I take away from this is don't ignore those feelings / intuitions / gut instincts. If I hadn't of ignored them I would have saved myself another 18 months of being treated like shit and only being visited when she thought other people may see her doing it. It was very much a keeping up appearances situation.

There are still a lot of emotions to process from the January of  that year. I haven't stopped crying since starting to write this and the grief has come out of nowhere as I certainly wasn't feeling sad before I started writing today.

In the July of 2018 my mum was diagnosed with ovarian cancer a very rare type at the same time I had stuff going on in my life that was extremely stressful. I was already suffering from terrible anxiety and depression after losing by now 5 people from my life and one dog ( in the February I lost a school friend who I had known from the age of 11 and we used to have regular chats on social media, just last night I thought I must ask Jon what planet I can see in the nights sky currently, as Jon had bought himself a telescope not long before he passed - totally unexpectedly and I had to remind myself that he isn't here). I struggled to get up and out of bed as the stress was doing a real number on my chronic health conditions. I was passing out frequently and had issues with ptosis. The heat of the summer didn't help either.

My mum then had major surgery in the August, in the September we had good news that although what had been removed was cancer, it was tiny, the size of a pin head and very unlikely to return. She is currently in remission, no one is cancer free until they have been 5 years clear. She has regular checks at the hospital and will do for another 3 years.

I finally thought that we may get some peace, after all what the hell could happen to us next? Surely the universe was done toying with us now? But no, 2018 was going to end badly and 2019 wasn't going to start any better. On 29th December 2018 we lost our beloved boy Frankie aged 12 ( a Weimaraner) and his Mum Mollie (Weimaraner) followed him over Rainbow Bridge exactly a week later on January 5th 2019 aged 14. Both had incredibly long lives for the size of dog they were but at the time it felt like my world had imploded. I had spent every day with my dogs since 1st June 2008 ( except for hospital stays ) They were a huge part of my life and most of the time the only company I had except Jay.  I didn't know that I could be in such emotional and physical pain and yet still wake up day after day. I thought Mr Myasthenia Kid was going to drop dead from a broken heart he looked so fragile and  broken. Even with Dembe our Labrador puppy coming into our lives on January 11th 2019, we were struggling.

This was where I noticed this friends  persons absence even more, no messages checking on how I was doing. No card, no flowers, no visit. Yet again H and Immie were there by my side, along with Paul, Pam's partner. I will be forever touched by Paul coming over on the Sunday after Frankie passed and then coming over again the following weekend when Mollie passed. He sat and shed tears with us and told us not to worry that Pam would be looking after them until we all met up again.

 I had cards and flowers from friends and cyber friends and yet no call to check how we were, beyond the initial messages of me telling you what had happened. That is when the penny finally dropped, that when I needed you, you disappeared as you had done so many times before, unless there was an opportunity for you to be seen as a "good" person. There were so many people I only knew on Facebook who came to visit to check that we were ok or who messaged me out of the blue. I have never felt love like it, so many people hugging us, looking out for us, physically being present. 

When Dembe arrived oh my goodness, so many visits. I have never known a puppy get so many toys and presents. I had baby gates offered within minutes of me asking on Facebook if I could borrow some, the same with crates etc. Nothing was too much trouble for people. It was overwhelming and it was something I have never experienced before and I am so touched by all those people. However it made this persons lack of action / concern even more painfully obvious. That hurt, even with all the pain I was in already the fact that we could all be so easily forgotten was another huge red flag.

Initially I made excuses,  maybe I hadn't said I was struggling? Maybe you didn't realise I was grieving? Maybe you didn't understand the depth of my grief? But even to the village idiot it would have been glaringly obvious. Contact over the year became less and less. It felt more and more like it was one way traffic which indeed it was. I was lucky when I messaged you if I got more than a couple of sentences out of you. Again I made excuses, you were busy with your new life now. You certainly made me feel like I was interrupting you living your best life. When it got to 4 months since I had last spent any time with you and even longer since we had spent any time alone, the decision was made. I had waited a month at that point for a message to be answered. I snapped. I was faced with the prospect of you turning up on my birthday and I knew I couldn't pretend for 5 minutes let alone several hours that everything was ok and that I was grateful for the few crumbs of attention you had thrown my way.

You would have never put up with being treated like that by anyone, yet I was just supposed to accept this? The last 2 years had passed in a haze of grief but I was starting to feel stronger. I knew that your behaviour  was now emotionally damaging to me. I couldn't move forward if I was going to continually wound myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why I wasn't good enough or why you felt you could take advantage of my good nature. So I ripped the band aid off and called time, reasonably amicably. I had been hesitant about hurting you when it was clear from your actions you had no concern about hurting me.

I suppose I am reflecting on all this as that is what the new year does. December and January are full of anniversaries of people and pets passing they are hard months. It's only now on 22nd January that I feel like the weight has been lifted . That I realise that the last few years I have been operating / functioning with a low level depression going on in the background. That the anxiety has lessened enough for me to see things clearly.

 You had changed or maybe the real you had come to the surface? Perhaps I chose not to see the real you or the nasty comments you made on a regularly basis. I put those down to you being verbally clumsy despite the fact you claim to be a writer. I realised I had put up with far more than I had ever credited myself with. I was right to call time and that belief is unshakeable now. I'm not the only one that has noticed that you have changed, grown colder and more bitter than you have ever been. I feel sorry for you as your world is shrinking and you are so full of yourself you can't see it. One day you will come crashing down to earth with a bump and you will be all alone. Maybe you want it that way, so you can perpetually be the victim?

I reflect back and realise I should have found the strength earlier. That I should have seen the pattern that I could never depend on you. That you liked to take and use, yet giving absolutely nothing in return.  You may think you have everybody fooled but truthfully more and more of us are seeing through you. I hope you find some peace because only someone who is utterly miserable with their own life finds joy in hurting others.

A hard week health-wise

The last week has been really hard health wise. I haven't been the sickest I have ever been but I have certainly been sicker than I have for a while. There is no "reason" that I can identify for this other than perhaps the decline in my health that I have been waiting for since we lost Mollie and Frankie. Stress, emotional upset and change can all upset my chronic health conditions and it seems everything wanted to bubble to the surface last week. I did just power on through which now I am wondering if that was the right thing because I am having more and more MG like symptoms this week - shortness of breath, limb weakness etc sorry I should have said my idiopathic hemifacial spasm the latest bullshit diagnosis for my Ptosis, totally ignoring all the other issues.

If I am honest there is only one symptom that has me terrified and that is when I will suddenly and for no reason lose the ability to take a deep breath. No matter how hard I try to suck the air in my chest fails to move. I end up taking a series of short breaths to minimise the panic that rises in me. I have an elephant sat on my chest who is refusing to budge and I know that if I went to hospital my breathing would be ignored and I would be labelled with a mental health condition rather than the fact that there is something going on at the neuromuscular junction which has been proved time and time again with the ice-pack test. Apparently for the latest neurologist I have seen for these symptoms back in 2017 I believe, it is just a placebo effect. Words fail me.

Sunday freaked me out a bit as well. I wasn't feeling great when I got up and knew there were a couple of jobs that I had to do, then I could sit around and rest for the remainder of the day. Once those jobs were completed I noticed my legs had become exceptionally heavy, like there were lead weights attached. I could walk but it was very slow and shuffling because lifting my feet was taking a supreme effort. I attempted to climb the stairs but that was impossible. I may as well have been sat at base camp for Mount Everest without oxygen, as those stairs were impossible. After attempting three I came back down on my bum and then wondered how the hell I was going to stand up again. Thank god for Mr Myasthenia Kid being home and with it happening on a Sunday. He could help me to my feet and get me to the sofa, plus organise my medication. 

You see I get to take Mestinon / Pyridostigmine Bromide for my PoTs symptoms. I usually dose as follows 7am 60mg, 11am 30mg, 3pm 30mg or 60mg depending on how I am feeling and then 30mg at 7pm. I have to be careful with Mestinon by body is extremely sensitive to it. Too much and I can be twitching all over but mainly my face and it can trigger terrible stomach cramps. It takes a lot for me to take another 60mg during the day but at both 11am and 3pm I ended up taking the full dose because without it my legs wouldn't work. My legs not working is not a PoTs symptom, it isn't an EDS symptom either. There is no medical explanation for this symptom, other than the fact the medical profession believe its all in my head. Which is why when my breathing gets difficult I panic. This medical condition that appears so much like MG / Neuromuscular junction disease will be ignored and it could end up killing me. I am lucky, my symptoms are mild but I have bouts like this especially when the weather gets warmer where my body fails to cope. I worry one day I will be so ill that the doctors refusal to think outside the box will mean that I will be killed by medical negligence and that is a fucking scary thought.

I mean if there is nothing wrong with my breathing......why have I had home oxygen since 2009? In the current economic climate of ongoing austerity since 2010 why if I don't need support for breathing on occasion why has this precious money wasting resource not been taken from me? Home Oxygen can't be cheap,  I have an oxygen concentrator a machine that pulls oxygen from the air and then feeds it down a nasal cannula at a purer form. In case of power cuts I also have to have a huge oxygen canister in the house, I have to notify the local fire-brigade and I am classed as a vulnerable service user by the people who maintain the power grid. The canister also impacts my home insurance cost. If I didn't need it I would get rid of it, not only are the canister and oxygen concentrator ugly they are taking up valuable space in my small home. So in an age of cuts to all services who is covering their arse by allowing me to keep my home oxygen? 

Home Oxygen won't save me if I end up in a full blown Myasthenic crisis. This is where the muscles around the lungs and the diaphragm become paralysed and can't move so you can't get the air in as when you attempt to breath nothing happens. In this situation you need to be in hospital on C-pap or Bi-pap or in the worst case scenario put into an induced coma whilst they ventilate you - sticking a tube down your throat and breathing for you ( intubation ).  Today as I am writing this the elephant has returned, breathing is hard. I took my mestinon at 7.30am already my right eye is starting to droop, its seems I may have to take my next dose earlier.

The Myasthenic like symptoms are the worst thing I currently deal with and I am lucky they are mild the rest of the time. Last week was like a smorgasbord of every medical condition I have. My PoTs symptoms were crazy - heat induced despite me upping the salt tablets ( to 8 a day ) there  were multiple episodes of pre sycope ( near fainting). I had vertigo luckily I caught that attack very early so I only had to endure the room spinning for an hour but it leaves me tired and feeling out of sorts. I had a migraine on Friday one of the worst I have had in months. It was actually the first migraine I have had since January 14th ( my last one was the Monday after Dembe came home with us). My Tinnitus has been so loud it has been difficult to hear the TV and radio. I have felt constantly exhausted .

Then there was the joint pain and my right shoulder continually fighting to escape it's socket. To be honest I have only scratched the surface of what I have dealt with over the last 7 days. I really don't like to say much most of the time because I don't want to be accused of moaning but if I stay silent about it people think that you aren't as sick as you claim you are. You just can't win, you're an attention seeker if you say something and a liar when you don't. It drives me nuts. I stay silent because to be honest it is easier that way. I don't want Jay aka Mr Myasthenia Kid worrying about me when he is at work, I don't want lots of platitudes on social media. It isn't because I think they are false it makes me feel like I am drawing attention to myself and trying to play the sympathy card and that's just not me. 

It's been really hard this week being a puppy mum, I love Dembe dearly, I wouldn't be without him but it is hard work trying to keep him occupied whilst using as little energy as possible. On the whole he is brilliantly behaved but like it is with kids there are days when he can be a little bugger and whilst amusing, it can be frustrating, especially when you aren't feeling well. He is just a puppy though at a little over 6 months old and over time he will calm down. I guess I was so used to Mollie, Frankie and Willow being older and more sedate this has come as a real shock. Jay does loads, he gets up and does his breakfast, he does all the walking and he comes home everyday for lunch to give me a little break and check I am ok. I take my hat off to those of you who are chronically sick and have children, I don't know how you do it.

It has been a hard week health-wise, I just hope things start to settled down very soon.

Medical arse covering

I know that this blog is called the Myasthenia Kid and yet of late I barely mention any Myasthenia like symptoms. Let me assure you I suffer almost every day with MG like symptoms. I think after my treatment at the hands of Doctors in 2009 and 2010, I just shut down. Those doctors who were the supposed experts did such psychological damage to me that I struggle even now ten years later to vocalise when the MG symptoms strike.

Currently the ptosis I suffer with ( daily to varying degrees) has been diagnosed as idiopathic hemifacial spasms ( and they ignore the fact that mestinon cures these "spasms" in around 20-30 minutes). The treatment suggested back in 2017 was Botox injections, funnily enough though no one has stepped up to do these injections, could that be because 1. I don't have spasms my face is paralysed and 2. Botox and MG are contraindicated?

Its like the home oxygen supply I have,  apparently I don't have any issues with my breathing well other than the suggested breath holding by the twat of a pulmanologist I saw ten years ago..... yet I have an oxygen cylinder and an oxygen concentrator. Do you see the running thread here at all? One might suggest there was a hell of a lot of ass covering going on here.

I have breathing problems on quite a regular basis. A lot of the time the shortness of breath can be alleviated with a booster dose of mestinon... you know the tablet that doesn't work. On my very bad days I will use my oxygen concentrator. Tonight maybe one of those nights. I know why this is happening it is because I have been pushing myself so hard physically the last few days trying to get jobs completed. Its the first time in around a year that I have done this much and as usual I have totally ignored the fact it will knock me on my ass.

Due to me having PoTs I take mestinon ( also known as pyridostigmine bromide). It raises standing blood pressure, I can't say that I have noticed any effect on my blood pressure but it really helps with the Ptosis and muscle strength which I lose as the day goes on. But obviously the muscle strength thing is all in my head and the ptosis resolving is the placebo effect. I just think it is another case of arse covering.

Some days when things are really bad the mestinon does nothing. It doesn't help the breathing or the ptosis. Those days I stay in bed and pray that I don't need the hospital. Years ago I told Jay no more trips to hospital unless I was unconscious or I asked specifically asked. I don't do hospitals anymore because I always get treated like I am a time waster who "thinks" I have Myasthenia Gravis. 

Even though I have multiple conditions now diagnosed, some doctors still ignore all that - even with the positive test results and jump straight onto the fact that I was diagnosed by a neurologist with somatiform disorder - notice I say a neurologist. Which is a bit like asking a cardiologist to do spinal surgery.  They also like to bring up my mini breakdown in 1999 - yes 20 years ago and use that as a reason why I am unwell. Despite the fact I went many years without any depression due to the hard work I put in through two years of counselling and CBT.

Yes at the moment I am suffering with depression and anxiety which I would consider perfectly normal considering the losses I have dealt with in the last two years. I have lost 4 friends, my grandmother and my three dogs. Obviously Frankie and Mollie passing within 7 days of each other really knocked me back. I ended up speaking to a doctor last week - more on that in a second, and had my antidepressant dose raised and was given some diazepam for when I can't get out of the panic cycle. Thankfully since the antidepressants have been increased and I have the diazepam I have been feeling quite a bit better. It's just as well as I have to be honest I really wasn't coping, I was doing a great job of masking it and some people can't get their heads around high functioning depression. Believe me I can keep going even when I feel dead inside. It takes a lot for me to finally crumble. And last week it finally happened.

Anyway a slight diversion just for a laugh, I am on the phone breaking my heart to this doctor, saying about the panic attacks, the anxiety, the grief and the depression. I kid you not I was asked if I had considered taking Kalms (  see what they are here ) and then the piece de resistance had I tried rescue remedy (here ) if I hadn't been breaking my heart I would have launched at her. What the hell was she doing ??? look at the medications I am on does she not think that I am way past some fucking Kalms and 3 drops of rescue remedy? I couldn't get off the phone quick enough, despite that she still managed to bang on about using meditation. 

I pointed out it doesn't work for me and leaves me feeling worse. I do a guided meditation when I can't sleep and my mind goes nuts with useless information flying through it. It makes me seriously worry that if someone was suicidal this berk would have offered them St Johns Wort and wondered why they hung themselves. Obviously the last sentence isn't funny its a genuine concern, when depression isn't taken seriously and the problem here was a locum gp who wasn't aware of my magnificent mental health history, they may try to fob someone off with mindfulness. Mindfulness is fine when people feel a bit down or stressed but it won't treat someone who is very / severely depressed. Same as rescue remedy will not treat Generalised anxiety disorder or OCD. It is only because I can and do speak up for myself that I got what I needed, increased meds and some extra meds. I knew I just needed a bit of breathing space to put myself back together. Had I not forced the issue, well I don't want to think about it really because I was teetering on the edge of becoming seriously unwell.

Anyway I digress, don't I always. The way I have been treated by the medical profession especially any time that Myasthenia Gravis is raised has left me with a fear of doctors and a phobia of hospitals. I have spoken to so many other people with chronic illnesses who say the same. We stop going to the doctor because we know we will be fobbed off. 

Take the doctor in July who told me the pain in my neck and the numbness in my arm was stress. In December I went back, because I was now losing my grip and the numbness was worse and I am told I have an impinged nerve, I need physio but the doctor believes I will probably need surgery to decompress the nerve. Thankfully I have avoided that by paying to see my private Physio. Someone who works with me and lets me know that she understands I know my limitations and she can't push me.

So no the MG symptoms haven't disappeared I doubt they ever will. They will just be a host of additional symptoms that no one is prepared to say without a positive SFEMG or blood test what it is and lots of medical arse covering will take place.

Me on Monday afternoon. Does this look like a spasm to you or paralysis? As you can see both eyes are trying to close. My right pupil has drifted to the side of my eye socket. The left eye is desperately trying to stay open by pulling the eyebrow up but as you can see the eyelid is trying to close. The fuckwittery I have to deal with is outstanding!

Hoping for a quiet 2019

My last post was published on the 10th of January when I felt like my whole world had caved in. The last few weeks have been very hard, I miss Frankie and Mollie so much that my heart aches. There has not been a day that has gone by where I haven't wept with the pain of losing them as suddenly as we did. To lose two dogs in 7 days is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I wouldn't have got through it without hubby by my side. In fact I would have probably given up completely had he not been here.

Due to the shock, upset, grief hubby has taken some time off work. He already suffers with anxiety and depression and to ensure he didn't take a nose dive he saw the doctor and got himself signed off. He didn't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. Losing Mollie hit him very hard as she was his dogs. Plus it was very traumatic for us over 24 hours where it became clear that she had suffered from a stroke and there would be no recovery from this. We nursed her overnight and made sure she wasn't suffering. Right up until the end she only wanted her dad, whenever she was out of his sight she panicked. Jay stayed with her until the end as I had stayed with Frankie just the week before. To say our hearts were broken would have been an understatement.

I took a break from this blog as since the beginning back in 2008 the dogs have featured quite heavily in it. My Gravatar is me with Frankie, Frankie is the banner on Wordpress, on Twitter his photo is my profile picture and its the same on Facebook. Although I have managed to change my about me pages on both blog platforms, I can't remove his photo from any of my social media profile photos.  It feels like a huge chunk of my life has just vanished. Life as I knew it was taken away from me in the space of 7 days. I never knew I could feel so utterly broken by the passing of three dogs in just a little over the year.

For a few years Mr Myasthenia Kid and I had talked about what would happen when we no longer had any dogs. Initially we had said we would get a Labrador ( black) then we talked about a Beagle and also a Bracco Italiano. However for the last few months I had said I didn't know if I wanted another dog, I knew losing our last two Weimaraners would hit me really badly and by getting another dog meant at some point in the future I would have to go through the pain of losing it all over again. Jay was not having any of it, he said that I was already completely socially isolated and without a dog I would have no company at all. He felt it would be very damaging to my mental health. He was right, as 7 days without a dog in the house were the worst thing ever. I missed everything about having a dog, the cuddles, the mess, the unconditional love, someone to have silly conversations with.

By the Sunday after Mollie's passing we decided that we would get another dog and we started looking on-line for Labrador puppies. I had to give myself a crash course on Labrador's having not ever owned one. I located several breeders who had litters on The Kennel Club Website. Luckily one lady immediately responded to my email and told us she had two male yellow labs for sale. Obviously we had originally said we wanted a black lab but by this point it didn't matter what colour it was. We needed our house to feel like a home again, we were both distraught and sinking fast. We arranged to travel to see the 2 pups available the following day.

The rest is history, we now own a 9 week old Yellow Labrador called Dembe. We chose his name from the TV programme the blacklist, it means peace. Which you will probably agree we need by the bucket full. Dembe came home with us on Friday 11th January. You can read all about him   here as I have started his own blog for him. I will from time to time have photos of him on this blog but it is much easier to have all the news about him on a separate blog. Every Monday I will give a run down of what he has been up to the previous week. 

Some of you may be judging us, that we got a new dog too quickly or that we didn't love our other dogs that much because we replaced them with Dembe. Dembe is not and has never been a replacement. He is an addition to our household. He is very much-loved for the dog he is and will become. Anyone who thinks any less of us for this can just fuck off as far as I am concerned, your opinion is of very little value to me.

So whilst I took a break from here, I have been setting up Dembe's blog. I managed to keep writing which out of all the things I do creatively was the only thing that I could keep going. I hadn't been able to sew since Mollie passed away. I managed on the 16th January after a break of nearly two weeks to sit and do a small piece of embroidery. Mainly to ensure that Dembe wasn't scared of the noise the machine made. The only thing that has freaked him out so far has been the ironing board and it does the same to me if I am honest.

My health has been hit quite hard by the sudden turn of events. I have suffered vertigo, continuous headaches, back spasms, Eczema, migraines and ptosis. As usual it a few days after the event before I started to go down hill. Thankfully with Jay off work we have been able to manage Dembe's care and socialisation process. To be honest without him I would have crawled into bed and never come out again. This little chap has saved us both. The lady that we are friendly with at the vets ( who had a soft spot for Frankie) called Dembe our miracle dog. She knew how much our lives focused on our dogs and also knew that without a dog in our life we would fall apart. 

So many people have told us that we have done exactly the right thing. It doesn't mean that we loved our Weimaraners any less, it is because we loved them so much that we had all this love to give to another dog. 

Dembe has bonded with us both. He is such a happy, laid back dog. His tail wags continuously. Everyone who meets him falls in love with him. I thought at one point after Mollie had passed away that Jay looked like he was going to drop dead from a broken heart. He was just an ashen colour. I have seen Jay poorly many times but this was the worst I had seen him look for a long time. Since Dembe's arrival he is looking so much better, we both feel like there is a future in front of us. In the immediate aftermath of losing both dogs it felt like we were staring into the abyss .

I am hoping that my health stabilises shortly, it is going to have to as Jay goes back to work from Monday 21st and it will just be me and Dembe. However Jay will be coming home at lunch times to help with feeding and toileting. He still has a few weeks until he will be able to go out for a walk. Whilst Jay is home though I am trying to take it as easy as possible. Jay has been doing everything for me as usual.

2018 ended in a way that I didn't see coming and 2019 started in a way we never envisaged. All I can hope for is a quieter year for the rest of 2019.

I will never forget the love that these three beautiful loyal dogs gave me. Run free my darlings, we will miss you everyday for the rest of our lives.

My week

Over the last week I have been quite unwell, culminating in an

emergency appointment at the doctors surgery yesterday. As

is usual for me it wasn’t clear what exactly was wrong. I had

severe abdominal pain in the lower right quadrant - I’m no

stranger to abdominal pain, I have suffered with it for as long

as I can remember. I can remember countless home visits by

the gp where I was yet again diagnosed with a grumbling

appendix.

I don’t think what I had yesterday was my appendix - its still sore

today ( just not as bad). I think it is actually a cyst on my ovary,

the doctors found one in 2015 but as it was only 2cm in size

the protocol was not to monitor it. For years every few months

I would get a pain in my lower right side. Loads of times I was

convinced it was my appendix but after they found the cyst

I realised that this made more sense. I started to track when I

had the pain, it was always between the 20th to the 28th of each

month and would last a few days. However over the last six months

every two or so months the pain ramps up. I have a reasonably

high pain threshold and it takes a lot to make me go to see the

dr, let alone ring them up and demand an appointment. Normally

I’m the patient running in the opposite direction.

Yesterday I couldn’t stand up straight when it was at its worst

and when I was on the phone to the duty doctor I was curled

up in a ball on the bed. I didn’t just have pain on the right side

but the whole of my insides felt sore and were burning.  Thankfully

the duty doctor agreed that I did need to be seen and set an

appointment for an hour later. Thankfully Mr Myasthenia Kid

was day off so he could drop me down there. I also had a

pot to piss in ( ha ha ha ha!) my old gp used to give me a sample

pot to use when I suspected I had a UTI. I forgot yesterday to ask

for another one to replace it.

By the time I got to the doctors appointment the pain was

already decreasing. I felt a bit of a fraud to be honest. Whilst

I am typingthe pain is ramping up again, I’ve taken pain

killers so hopefully it will settle it again. I haven’t got a

temperature and today I am not feeling unwell. I don’t feel

right - I think all of us with a chronic illness or condition

know when our bodies aren’t feeling right.

Mine hasn’t felt right for a few weeks, initially I put it down to

anxiety, stress, then the heat. But I know in my heart of hearts

it’s more than that. It’s like the time I kept telling my old hospital

consultant that I felt terribly unwell, I didn’t know what it was but

he needed to listen to me. The arrogant twat didn’t, he sent me

reluctantly for blood tests. Five days later I got a snotty letter

telling me all my bloods were normal. Three days after that letter

he had to backtrack because my prolactin levels were stupidly

high. See I knew that something was wrong, never ignore

your instinct about your health.

My urine was dipped and nothing was showing. I then had to get

up on the couch and be examined. I knew it was coming, I made

sure that front and back bottoms were scrupulously clean as

I feared gloved fingers could be inserted into either orifice.

Luckily I avoided that one! My stomach was palpated, as is

usual the doctors always ask about the scar on my stomach.

I’ve had a scar on my stomach since I was 3 and a bit. It’s been

there so long that unless someone draws my attention to it

I don’t remember it’s there. Now that will probably seem

strange as it’s a horrific looking thing all thanks to EDS.

If I wasn’t such a lard-arse at the moment I may have taken

a photo to show you. The scar runs from around an inch

above my belly button to the top my pubic bone. It has healed

very wide around an inch or more at the worst places and the

skin is paper thin. I also have no sensation / feeling at all in my

stomach about 2 inches either side of the scar as the nerves

were cut ( I have had multiple surgeries). It’s caused me

problems in the past due to burns. A few times I have ended up

seeking hospital treatment as I have given myself a serious

burn injury and not noticed until the skin has gone black. Like I

said I have no feeling there.

The scar has also tethered at the end near my pubic bone. This

means the scar tissue has adhered to the muscle underneath.

It causes me no pain but means my stomach is divided into

two parts due to the tethering.

I showed the doctor on my abdomen where the pain was, she

felt it and I had to be peeled off the ceiling. At this point she

told me that she wanted to ring the surgical team at the local

hospital for advice as she felt it could be my appendix or

it could be an ovarian cyst torsion ( meaning the ovary was

twisting because of the cyst). Personally I thought with both I’d

be in more pain than I was. I declined the call to the surgical

team basically because I hate the local hospital. If I had

been in severe pain, vomiting etc obviously I would have

gone, I’m not an idiot. But I knew what would happen,

lots of tests, no sleep, idiot medical professionals

and sent home after being made to feellike a time waster.

At this point all I wanted was my bed.

I made the doctor a solemn promise that should the pain

intensify overnight that I would ring 999 and if it was bad

tomorrow(now today) I’d ring them. She wasn’t totally happy

but sheknew I wasn’t going to hospital. I have to add here

that even in that severe amount of pain my blood pressure

reached thedizzying heights of 115/80 with a pulse of 95,

oxygen 98%.

When my blood pressure is normal ( doesn’t happen very often

these days) when in pain I am normally in the 130/90 territory.

So that just goes to show you how low my blood pressure has

been of late.

Its not desperately low but I am 5ft 8 tall and not petite. Most

doctors take my blood pressure and you can see that they are

looking forward to giving me a lecture about my weight and

high blood pressure. You can see the disappointment in their

eyes when it comes back low! If my blood pressure is below

around 115/80 I can be hideously symptomatic, every time I stand

up I feel faint. This week I have been drinking expresso's as it's

the only thing that gives my blood pressure a boost, even if it is

only temporarily.

Around 2.30pm the doctor I saw yesterday rang to check how

I was. That was really kind of her but I feel guilty for making

her worry. It wasn’t a quick call either, she had a huge list of

questions to ask to ensure I wasn’t brushing her off and telling

her what I thought she wanted to hear. This is why I love the

small practice I use as they have the time to care about their

patients, it doesn’t feel like a conveyor belt. If you need longer

than your allotted time then you get it and none of the other

patients mind as they also know they won’t be rushed out the door.

My plan is when feeling slightly better that I will make

a doctors appointment and ask to have this pain

investigated. Personally I wouldn’t be surprised if my

ovary is stuck to my appendix due to all the adhesions

I have.  

I've been so rough over the last week or so I haven't done very

much in the way of sewing. I tried some hand sewing yesterday

but couldn’t concentrate so gave up. Today I finished a Travis

bag for one of my Instagram friends. Thankfully that was a quick

bit of sewing as I had started it well over a week ago. I can’t put a

photo up as she hasn’t received it yet. Jamie will be sending it

tomorrow for me. The lovely lady and I have chatted a few

times on IG and she asked me if she could send me one of her

bags and give her an honest critique of her work, which is a bloody

brave thing to do. The bag would be mine to keep. I couldn’t let her

just send me a bag, as I knew she had a dog I thought I would

send her a Travis bag.

This is the bag she sent me

I   Love this bag!