Game over.

What do you do when there’s nothing left to do, and nothing that anyone else can do to help you? That’s what I’ve been wondering to myself for the past couple of months and I’ve came to the conclusion that you don’t do anything at all; simply because you can’t. So nothing changes, you take each day as it comes and you wait for the inevitable. Every day passes in the same monotonous way: Wake up, feed Isla, carer comes, feed Isla, carer comes, get Isla from afternoon nap, feed Isla, keep Isla entertained, feed Isla tea, give Isla bottle, carer comes, Isla in bed, carer comes. 

It’s been really odd, having carers in. I can’t stand asking for help and admittedly it’s something that I’m still getting my head around and struggling to accept. It’s not that I find it shameful or embarrassing, I guess it’s just because I’m younger than most with carers and it also means me having to accept that I wasn’t managing as well as I tried to convince myself that I was. Admitting I’m not stronger than my physical decline and that no matter how headstrong I’ve tried to be; there’s no denying the evident decline and the rapidity of it all. 

This was originally going to be a big long ramble of a blog post, but I’ve completely lost where I was going with all of this so instead I’m going to get wine and I shall leave it on this note...

Don’t bury your head in the sand because like it or not, if shit’s gonna happen then it’s gonna happen regardless. Life’s a bitch and all that!

PS - sorry for the arsey post. No point in sugarcoating anything though, that’s not why I do this. 

- (pissed off and miserable) Keeley. x

Life is one big potassium joke - K?

^ Science nerds (or fellow potassium deprived friends!) will understand that 'K' reference in the title of this post.

Basically this post is just going to be me banging on about lack of potassium and the terror that comes with it.

I am tired. So. So. Tired. Exhausted, actually. Mentally and physically exhausted.
It starts with thirst, such extreme thirst that you fear you may well drink the entire country out of its water supply. But then you're sick, or it drains via your Venting PEG, which then further depletes your potassium. You clamp off your Venting PEG but then that makes you sick, too. Then all of a sudden your head feels like it's swimming in all of the water that you've been drinking. It's as if your head is under water and you're swimming in the depths of the ocean with that crushing pain that feels like your head and face are being crushed in a vice. So much pressure and so little tolerance to it. Then you get the tingling sensation like the onset of pins and needles. Everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Your whole body feels like it's vibrating and the nausea overwhelms you. Then it cramps. Everything cramps and spasms. Your thumbs fold in to your palms, your fingers fold in to one another, your limbs fold in to the spasming muscles and the bones feel like they too are being crushed by the vice that's taken over your skull. Your heart starts skipping and you feel faint as it does so. You stand and before you know it your body has dragged you back down the place you tried to stand from as your blood pressure goes havoc and your oxygen saturation drops. Your heart is going too fast and then it's going too slow and then all of a sudden it stops. It stops and you fall unconscious. Your chest is aching, stabbing, hurting and everything goes black as the pain stiffens your neck and your jaw. And your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Heart attack, they said. Again and again and again. So they replace your potassium, albeit very very carefully so as not to overwhelm your system. And you feel better, somewhat.

Until next time, a week or so later, when it all happens again. Over and over and over again. The vice like crushing sensation persists and the pain and the cramps and the nausea and the fainting and all of the above mentioned becomes all that you can think about.

"Another heart attack" they said. "Cardiac arrest" they say. "Get the defibrillators" they shout.

V1-3 S&T Wave Changes with Ventricular Ectopics with bi/tri-gemini  and Atrial fibrillation. Heart can't cope. 30% normal function.

And eventually, you're just waiting for the big one.

All is not always as it seems

Just a quick reminder, which definitely has the possibility to turn into a very lengthy, ranty and rambly post, so take that as your pre-warning (haha)!


Just because people don't post the entirety of their life on social media to be fed to and scrutinised by the public eye, doesn't mean that things aren't going on behind the scenes. It doesn't mean that this person is absolutely fine, but nor does it mean that they're not.

There are many times I have been accused of lying about things or not telling the full story. Truth be told, it's no skin off my nose. People will only see what they want to see and will interpret anything they see/read/hear however they want to, no matter how much or how little you post or say. I posted on Saturday saying about a new diagnosis that I'd had and how fab my consultant is for going above and beyond to get me some answers, despite him not specialising in the specific area that I contacted him regarding. I then had several people message me asking what my new diagnosis is, then when I didn't reply I was called 'rude', 'arrogant' and 'attention seeking' by a fair few. Again, no skin off of my nose because at the end of the day if those people actually cared then they'd have appreciated that maybe I don't want to talk about certain things, and those who know me would've just appreciated the fact that I have a consultant in my team who is amazing enough to do something as huge as he did for me. Because those that know me, know the struggles that I have had - and still do have - with many of the consultants that I am under. The post itself was an appreciation post, not a 'I've got a new diagnosis but I'm not going to tell anyone about it' because quite frankly I really don't care. New diagnoses don't really faze me anymore, it's just something else to add to the never-ending list of what doesn't work with my body anymore.

Some days I go quiet on Facebook and people panic,  thinking something has happened. Which in all fairness is understandable given that I normally post 204872958 times a day. But some times I'm 'ok' physically, I'm just not in the mood to talk to anybody and I'm mentally exhausted from pretending to be okay when I'm not. When that happens, I'm known to sleep for days on end and only wake to feed Isla (which funnily enough is only ever really when she's awake, too, haha. She likes her sleep! 'Sleep , eat, repeat' is very much her mantra!). Pain is also absolutely knackering. I actually forget that it's not normal to sleep for the most part of a day and wake up feeling like you've not slept for weeks. It wasn't until someone said to me last week "how can you still be so tired when you've slept all day?!" that I remembered that it is, in fact, not 'normal'. I guess these things - though abnormal they may be - become our normality. It's not normal, but it's a normality for many people with chronic illness(es).

I can't actually remember where I was going with this post so I'll just leave it at that I think because my brain (or lack thereof) has gone to sleep on me now. My potassium has dropped again today so when I started this post this morning I was much more 'with it' than I am right now! Sorry for the pointless post, I've completely forgot what I was going to say apart from to all remember that all is not always as it seems. You can pretend to be happy when you're not, and you're entitled to do so. Just as you're entitled to not explain every single aspect of your life if you do not feel the need - or feel comfortable enough - to do so.

Keeley. x

Up in the air

Normally I would get angry and bite when it comes to my health and when I know something is right. Today I just feel defeated. Like I deflated upon hearing my consultants words and now I just feel empty and numb.

I'm tired of fighting all of the time. Fighting for treatment and fighting with people. It's tedious and it's exhausting. I don't understand why every single little aspect has to be a battle all of the while. I shouldn't have to be using my energy on fighting to be listened to, battling to be believed. I should be saving my energy to use on valuable things. Health is valuable of course, but it's not something that you should have to fight for, it should just be a given. However I guess the difference between what 'should' be what is are two very different things.

Due to the Ehlers-Danlos and the chronic pain and fatigue that is all part and parcel of it, I have had no choice but to learn to value the energy that I do have, even though it's minimal. I would much sooner be using that energy to play with my daughter and just be 'mummy' to her, instead of using valuable energy to fight, battle and argue.

Pain wise I'm not doing that great at the moment, nor am I with nausea. Everything always feels so up in the air. I get diagnosed with several things and am given umpteen surgery 'offers' (I use that term lightly). Yet because of the state my body is in, surgery is not an option.

I'm just frustrated. So, SO f*cking frustrated. It's like with the PoTS. I'm "much too underweight and dehydrated" to be eligible for any of the medication that's used to try to get on top of it and reduce symptoms enough to improve your quality of life. Yet the only way of me gaining weight and having better hydration and nutrition, is to be back on TPN. Yet I can't go back on my TPN because my body won't handle it for various reasons and I now have my Nutrition team saying they think a big part of my illness is psychological. Yes I HAVE struggled with Anorexia Nervosa and I was nothing but honest with them about that from the start. Same as I told them that I do still have my bad days with it. Heck, is it not common sense? I've had a bad relationship with food and have had an eating disorder for 13 years now, and it's damn hard to develop a healthy relationship with food and weight gain when food causes intense pain and relentless vomiting, and weight gain feels like being in a foreign body when you've spent so long being underweight. It's like it's not your body anymore, it's a completely unknown entity. You look in the mirror and you don't recognise yourself, you look twice because it just doesn't look like 'you' anymore. My Nutrition team said that improvement on TPN wasn't even close to being satisfactory. My bloods improved but my weight didn't. Which isn't even true. Yes my bloods improved but so did my weight. I put on 12kg on TPN but then I kept losing weight when my body was fighting sepsis, the duration of which my Hickman Line couldn't be accessible, or had to be removed. I fought sepsis four times and every time it was a damn difficult and a damn lengthy fight to overcome it. My body was burning calories fighting those life-threatening infections, whilst receiving no nutrition because my line could not be used. Common sense there says a person will lose weight under given circumstances. That's not my doing. Although I was accused of rubbing my Hickman Line against my Venting PEG to give myself sepsis. Laughable, I know. However, whether I have/had Anorexia or not, it makes no difference because either way I still have extremely compromised absorption as a result a Gastrointestinal Failure, Oesophageal Dysmotility, Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth and Chronic Intestinal Pseudo Obstruction. So as much as I'd like to be able to absorb things and gain weight, it's nigh on impossible with these conditions! And that's just to name a mere few of them.

Anyway, my TPN has been decommissioned and I'm just waiting for it all to be removed from my house. In the meantime I'm still shoving my face and praying for a friggin miracle. I've not managed to gain any weight and instead just keep filling up with fluid, having umpteen hospital admissions and/or paramedics out for various reasons and I've just well and truly had enough. No, I'm not suicidal, I'm just tired of this ridiculous 'life'. I'm still plodding on and doing all I can to push through, it's just mentally and physically exhausting when there's seemingly no light at the end of the tunnel and no let up in between it all.

Anyway, I have loads of other bits to blog about so I'll leave this one now and get cracking with another!

Keeley. x

Discombobulation of a day.

I'm not entirely sure what to title this post as several thoughts/feelings/emotions have came to mind today and none of which could be whittled down to make one title that is relevant to all I'm about to include. 

I miss something. I'm not sure what I miss, but for some reason everything just feels incomplete and 'strange' today. I miss Isla-Mae and can't stand being away from her, and obviously I miss Ava-Grace (sleep tight, sweetheart) too. It's not that though, it's something else. My old life, maybe. But not quite. I think I've just had way too much time on my hands to spend milling over everything and thinking about all of the things I used to do and no longer can. I miss learning, I would love to study and do something productive with my time that has a beneficial outcome, yet I wouldn't get a job anyway so there's no point getting in to debt just for the sake of it. I miss sports. I used to (and still do but can no longer do it) absolutely love playing Netball. The adrenaline rush during a game, the teamwork, the being a part of something. Running, I used to enjoy that too, but then I went over on my foot and done some pretty bad damage to my retinacular tendon, peroneus brevis and peroneus longus. That combined with the Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, my foot has never been the same again. Whenever I have attempted to run on it since it's just snapped again and I've been off my feet for weeks if not months. I wouldn't go as far as to say I missed school because quite frankly those were the worst years of my life, no matter how many people try and tell me that "school is the best time of your life" because for me, it wasn't. End of story. Nights out letting my hair down and getting happily drunk, the social life, I miss that. My sister is off to university tomorrow to study Forensics & Criminology (brain box!!) and I am so incredibly proud of her. I saw her this evening and I told her to make the most of it, stay safe and enjoy it. I only wish my body would've allowed me that experience, too. I attempted college, three times actually. However one thing or another lead to me needing to quit. I worked, I loved it, then lost my job due to time off sick during my probationary period when I became paralysed from the waist down for a while. Modelling. I loved it, it gave me a sense of self worth and a bit of confidence. Now even considering it knocks my confidence because all of the fantastic achievements and companies I used to model for, they wouldn't bat an eyelid to me anymore now I'm unwell and full of tubes, lines and surgery scars.

Relationships. So many people are in relationships and again, I'm happy for these people, but I can't help but wonder when it will be my turn. Yet I feel extremely selfish even thinking about it because with all of my medical conditions and hospital admissions, it hardly sets a solid foundation for a blossoming relationship. People get bored or frustrated and that's fine, I get that, but it still hurts. I try not to allow myself to develop feelings for people anymore because I worry that it will always end in hurt. Even in past relationships where people have swore to me that they'll never leave, "we'll get through it together" and that they'll stay by my side and hold my hand throughout it all. When the going got tough they left, too. I need someone to prove that not everybody is like that, yet whenever I let myself develop feelings and in time begin relationships, it always ends the same way. I'm either told "this isn't what I signed up for" or "it's difficult with you being in hospital all of the while" which as I've just said, that's fine, I get it, but it still hurts. I'm tired of it all. I want someone who will take the good with the bad, laugh with me, cry with me, and love me for me. Someone who will ignore the medical side as much as possible and just enjoy me as a person. I am not my illnesses, but being left because of them makes me feel like my illnesses define me no matter how hard I try to not let them. One thing I will say though, is that I always seem to fall for the ones that I can't have even if my mind were to allow me! Such is life. 


Social life. Everything these days includes eating and drinking. You go out with friends for lunch or for coffee, family meals, parties, nights out, etc.. you get the drift. It's not until you can do neither of those things that you realise what a huge part eating and drinking plays in socialisation. I mean yeah I could drink now as I have my Venting PEG so my stomach content is drained in to a bag attached to the tube, but that's not the point. It's awkward. People get grossed out by it too which I guess is fair enough but I can't change that situation. Speaking of which, it bugs me how people make a big deal out of not eating in front of me. They all get like "oh god no I can't eat in front of you, it's not fair, no I wouldn't do that to you!" or words to the same effect. What they don't actually realise - nor seem to understand when I point it out to them - is that it actually offends me more when people do this. I find it humiliating as they are drawing attention to a situation of mine that I would much rather (but am unable to) forget about and pretend it's not happening. At the end of the day, I can't change my situation (heck I would if I could!) so why should others have to change theirs? They shouldn't. I would never expect or ask someone to not eat or drink in front of me just because I can't do either of those things the way that they can. I often halfheartedly joke that I'd actually fit in more than ever on a night out drinking because most people have a few drinks and spend the remainder of the evening with their head over the toilet, vomiting! I prefer to laugh off things like this, even though in reality there is nothing funny about the situation and its circumstances. 

I guess that's how I've always coped. 'Coped', I use that term loosely. I don't think I have ever really 'coped' with anything. I've just got on with it. Not because I've shut myself off, but because I have never had chance to 'get over' one thing before something else happens. My life seems to happen very fast and it's always one thing after the other. For example if I were to break my wrist and be unable to write and then break my legs a short while after and be unable to walk, I wouldn't have chance to grieve over no longer being able to write before I began grieving over no longer being able to walk. I hope that made sense, it did in my mind anyway.. Many of times I have heard "I don't know how you do it, I couldn't cope in your situation" but the truth is, you would. You would because you have to, there is no other choice. There is no easy way out without leaving a trail of destruction behind. So you just deal with it in the ways which you know best, whatever those coping mechanisms may be. 

Anyway, I'll most likely post again later on this evening. Actually, I've just looked at the time and realised that we are actually in the early hours of the morning now and I hadn't realised! I'm off to get my antiemetic medication and then I shall probably do another post as I have lots of topics drafted ready to elaborate on and publish that people have asked me to cover. 

- K. x

Todays ramblings and ranting.

Recently I've been getting very down again. Depressed, actually. My surviving daughter is 7 months old today and I've spent the last 15 weeks in hospital and have inevitably missed out on many of her 'firsts' and milestones. Herself and her twin sister were born on 2nd January 2016 at 28weeks+2days gestation but Ava-Grace passed away after 38hrs of life. Ava & Isla (my surviving daughter) weren't due until 23rd March so that date is essentially when they would've been newborn and would then begin hitting milestones, from then onwards anyway. I have been in hospital since the middle of April. In a nutshell and to make it less complicated to understand, had the twins been born full term on 23rd March and I'd gone in to hospital middle of April, I'd have given birth and then gone in to hospital 3weeks later and missed all milestones from then until now. 

I guess I'm just tired of having to 'prove' how ill I am just so others can see. My gut stopped working a while ago and now I'm on TPN. However I now have to come off all of my pain medications just so that I can "prove" that it's the EDS that's caused it, not the use of opioid medication. This has in fact been tried several times before and to no avail - which I did point out - however it's not been tried before whilst I've been on TPN so again I am going to have to come off all of my pain medications just to prove a point. I have to once again be in unbearable, indescribably intense pain just for the benefit of somebody else. I have actually gotten to a point where I've asked if I could go back on my antidepressants but this isn't possible due to none being available in intravenous form.

When my pain gets too bad, my autonomic nervous system malfunctions which then causes seizures last anywhere between 5 minutes to 5 hours and sometimes days. So having to come off of my pain medication will then cause this to happen again. Apparently being on IV paracetamol and rectal diclofenac will help though (?!). If whilst I'm on Fentanyl and Morphine my pain can still some days get to a point where it will become uncontrollable and unbearable - resulting in seizures - then how on earth is paracetamol and dilofenac going to prevent it?! It won't - and from previous experience, DOESN'T - is the answer there. 

I'm tired of being labelled a junkie, a hypochondriac and the likes of. I just want to get home to my daughter but putting me through all of this is just preventing that from happening. I know I won't be going home anytime soon anyway but all of this messing about with my medications is just going to further extend what has already been and will continue to be a very lengthy hospital admission. 

Most of all, I'm tired of not being believed. Of having people say one thing to my face and then write another in my notes. I've had it happen more times than I can count and I tell you for nothing it damn well hurts. A lot of people experience a 'high' from some of the medications that I'm on (Fentanyl, Morphine and Cyclizine) and even though I benefit from these medications and most definitely do not feel any sort of 'high', I'm not believed. Everyone else seems to so I'm clearly lying just to stay on the medication and get my fix in the eyes of others. When I'm in pain I am told "well you don't look like you're in pain!" though I very much am. I don't enjoy being in hospital, nor do I enjoy the fact that by the age of 18 I was taking Fentanyl and Morphine regularly. It's not something I'm proud of! I would much rather be able to not have to take it just to get through the day but to be able to do this I would need a fully functioning healthy body - something I'll never have with multiple degenerative conditions. 

I had a meeting this morning with my pain management team. They were asking what I would like to happen, and then telling me what was going to happen (to which I replied "Well why bother asking me what I want if you're just going to do whatever you want anyway. There's no point asking me these questions just to cover your own arse if you're asking if the patient had a say in their treatment when you're not listening to what I feel and doing whatever YOU want to anyway!). Literally to the point where when they left, the nurse from my Pain Management Team who I tend to get on with came in and - after jokingly saying "oh you're a swine! (because I'd kicked off) - asked me how I felt about the decisions that had been made. I told her I wasn't happy but hey what did that matter, I don't have a choice. To which she replied "Well no you're right, you don't" and so that was that. 

In that meeting alone I learnt that EDS doesn't cause pain, Cyclizine is bad for you, I don't need my pain medications, my gut doesn't work because I'm on Fentanyl and Morphine so therefore are being taken off them and put on PR Diclofenac and IV Paracetamol, my seizures caused by my autonomic nervous system malfunctioning aren't real nor do they even exist (I've clearly imagined the times spent in hospital intubated in Resus then!), you can't possibly still feel sick when your gut is being bypassed and you're on TPN so it must be the opioids, not the EDS or the fact your GI system doesn't work. 

Please note - the above paragraph are not my views, they are purely the views of a very unhelpful Pain Management Team. 

Following that meeting I felt (and still do) deflated. Emotionally empty. I just sat there and thought to myself that I can genuinely see why people choose suicide over this life of pain and not being believed. The last 2 weeks or so I have finally gotten to a point where I felt so much better due to having proper nutrition (TPN) and my pain medications were working 80% of the time. I have even had enough strength to feed Isla when she's been bought in for visiting and pick her up rather than have her sat/lay against my legs and passing her back when she's due a feed. Now though, after the decisions made by my pain team and actions taken, this will go backwards and I will once again be in too much pain to even interact with my daughter. Not that they care, quality of life doesn't interest them and quite frankly they quite clearly couldn't give a shit about how that makes me feel.

If there is one thing that I can say that ALL patients with EDS want/need, it's to be believed. Yet that is the one thing which we have to fight and fight and continue to fight for. And that's just with one department. Whenever you're referred to another department you find yourself repeating everything all over again - several times - and fighting and fighting and continuing to fight to be believed once more. It's a never-ending cycle. 

People need to realise that not believing us eventually weighs us down and kills any belief that we may have once had. It hurts. I firmly believe that not being believed plays a very big part in depression and suicide of EDS patients. After all, not being believed, being in intense pain, spending more time in hospital than you do at home and nobody being able to honestly reassure you that it won't always be this way and it'll get better eventually (it's degenerative, it gets worse) isn't much of a life to live. Heck, if it wasn't for my little girl surviving and beating the odds I will openly say that I would've done it a long time ago. I remember when Ava-Grace passed away I had said that if anything were to happen to Isla as well, I'd be off the nearest cliff to be with them both as this life wouldn't be worth it without them here with me. 

Anyway, a nurse is here to change my TPN over now so I'll end that rant there for now and leave it at that. 

- K. x