Living with dysautonomia has been a massive rollercoaster.
The downs have been many but I wouldn’t have made it through the last two years without the ups.
The ups are simply those gorgeous people around me who have helped keep me sane and to feel cared for. Numero uno, my husband (who does just about everything there is to do around here), then there are my children (for forever giving me something to laugh about and for just loving their mum), my family (for being there during the tough times and helping me in whatever way I needed it) and, finally, my friends (the rock stars who have stuck by me and not put me in the ‘too hard’ basket).
This last year has also been about developing what I’ve now called my Goldilocks recovery plan. So named because quite simply it’s been about finding out what’s ‘just right’ for me. There has been much trial and error!
Here’s the list of my do’s and don’ts which hopefully should help others suffering from dysautonomia. Continue reading My “Goldilocks” recovery plan for living with dysautonomia
A friend of mine who made a daily appearance for 6 months, stopped for 2 months and has now come back again is Grog, as I have now named him (aka bear with a sore head). When he’s in full swing he’s like the hangover (with full on banging migraines) that won’t go away and, over the last 12 months, has become a pretty consistent member of my crew. It seems it’s all part of the delightful bag of tricks this weird condition brings. Continue reading Grog the head
My wham bam health issues appeared in November 2014. However, looking back, before my ‘tsunami’ of symptoms hit, a slow trickle of odd symptoms had appeared. I’d been under quite a bit of stress from a job for a period of 6 months and I had a few odd, isolated bodily symptoms occur (which I can now recognise as the early warning signs). I had weird aches in my hands, I was thirstier than normal, I was wired and tired, I got the shakes when under pressure and I started getting weird nightmares on top of insomnia (Dennis the Menace flying spider kind of nightmares). I then experienced the ‘oh god I feel shit I must be unfit’ after pilates (come on?) and I had my first proper almighty so-called panic attack (an ambulance job). But many of these were simply explained away as stress related reactions.
Then I sealed my fate by visiting some hot springs for the day in late November 2014. Continue reading The poo truck