30 Years an Arthritic

I haven’t been near this blog for a good long while – my bad (as the youngsters say these days).  A few of my colleagues and friends have also asked me why they hadn’t seen anything on my blog for a while – oh, the shame!

Then, just tonight, a friend of my wife, who now lives in Australia, IM’d her to ask if I’d ever found a paleo diet to be helpful.  Laura has had an amazing transformation to health and feeling awesome by cutting out wheat and sugar.  Of course, yes, I have had an amazing transformation too – and I’ve had a few ups and downs along the way.

And, I have reached a milestone of sorts.  I’ve now had arthritis for 60% of my life – 30 years.  This has made me reflect a bit on what this means and what the next phase of living with this challenging disease might be like.

It’s been a long story.  I had my 1st symptoms in August 1985.  I remember it very well because I had not long returned from an Interrail holiday around Europe with my mate Andy.  I would wake in the middle of the night, sweating, with an excruciatingly sore knee, wrist, shoulder, ankle – never the same joint twice.  I wouldn’t be able to move, the pain was searing and I could do nothing other than lie shivering in my own sweat until I drifted off to sleep again – which did happen eventually.  I woke up the next day feeling worn out but the pain in whatever joint was affected had completely disappeared.

The night sweats and sore joints continued to happen but were fairly random.  I went to see my GP.  He poo-pooed my complaints and brushed them aside, saying that there was no physical evidence to show that anything was wrong and it was probably ‘my age’.  He was a prick!  Even my Mum thought so.  And that wasn’t the only time I went to see the prick about the same thing.

I don’t dwell on whether proper investigation at that time may have given me a better outcome.  I prefer to look forward – most of the time.

Anyway, 2 years of random symptoms culminated in “The Bloody Nightmare” when I was 21.  This was likely triggered by stress.  I have learned recently that stress and anxiety contribute to health and wellbeing like nothing I could have ever imagined.

Anyway, back to The Bloody Nightmare.  When I was 21, I moved to London.  I was in a relationship.  We were staying with her parents.  Overnight, my whole life changed.  I was travelling up to 4 hours a day to and from work (nothing that I had ever experienced before).  The relationship wasn’t as rosy as I thought it was going to be.  Her father was ill with a chronic degenerative disease and, as I saw it, didn’t receive a great deal of support or sympathy from his wife.  Her parent’s relationship was frosty at best and sometimes explosive.  My girlfriend was suffocatingly jealous.  I had very little in the way of ‘a life’.  It was hell.

I left.

I had been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis 3 weeks prior to me packing my car with everything I had.  I drove off not knowing where I was going to stay.

Trauma City!  Through a friend of a friend I found somewhere to go.  But, within a couple of weeks my arthritis had flared and I couldn’t control my pain, I could hardly move, I couldn’t sleep, I stopped going to work, I lost weight.  Everything went to shit.  Stress.

Fast forward three months and I was being treated by Dr Terence Gibson and his team at Guy’s Hospital.  I’ll never forget him, he was a lovely man and we ended up on 1st name terms.  He got my disease under control.

Everything was awesome and I drifted into remission.  Aside from my left hip deteriorating, my symptoms were few and far between.  A massive flare up in 2005 rekindled my relationship with the NHS.  Lots of investigation, experimenting with different combinations of drugs and 2 years later, I had a treatment regime that worked.

But, I didn’t get better in the way I expected or wanted.  So, I tried paleo.

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This is a Facebook post from September 2011.  In fact, I am now a steady 69/70 kilos, that’s just where I levelled out.  I started at 87 kilos (13 stones and 10 pounds).  I can’t quite remember being that heavy or even believe that I was.

Paleo saved me.  There is no doubt that I would still be on a very heavy drug regime and still be feeling that something was missing, had I not changed my way of life.  I still take drugs, but at nowhere near the frequency that I used to.

But, it has been a challenge.  You just have to read back through the posts on the blog to get a sense of how much.  But I am still determined and I will never go back.  And, I really have never felt so well.

So, what of the future?  30 years is a long time to live with anything and it does have it’s consequences.  A lot (I would say, most) people with rheumatoid start to have symptoms in their late 30s/early 40s.  By the time most people have had this for 30 years, they’re likely into their 70s – and don’t forget that treatments for RA in 2015 are much more sophisticated that they were in the 80s.  This likely means that the inevitable damage to their bodies is better controlled.

I’m 49.  I’d like to think that I have another 35 years to go. That’s another 35 years of living with arthritis.  I am already finding that bits of me need corrected, so I have become cautious about the future, which is a new feeling for me and it doesn’t sit at all well.

Darrach

I’ve just had surgery on my left wrist.  This is a before and after picture of Darrach’s Procedure (this isn’t my x-ray, but it’s what my wrist will look like right now).

In the procedure, the head of the Ulna is removed to save the tendon that operates the pinkie, as it runs over it.

In rheumatoid arthritis, the ends of bones can get a bit rough and, if there’s a tendon in the way, it’s kind of like running a bit of twine over a saw blade.  So, it had to go.  In fact, not one to do stuff by halves, the surgery extended to removing lumps of chronically inflamed (and solid) tissue and freeing the tendons for all 4 fingers.

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So, I have another nice scar.  I also have a very comfortable splint, which makes the joint feel much more secure.  Honestly, I’m three weeks in and the thing still doesn’t feel like my own.

And it’s a bit sore.

And, if I move my wrist at all I can feel the end of the bone moving around – and that is very unpleasant.  But in a kind of good way!

And my drumming has had to take a back seat, which is a complete bummer as the band are very busy.  New band, I have moved on.

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And in the last year I took up the ukulele, which is absolutely the best fun instrument to play.  I was introduced to it by my muso friend, Leon, who is an awesome guitarist, mandolin player, pianist, etc, etc, etc.  He’s one of these guys who can get a tune out of anything – bastard!

Anyway, Leon and I frequent the local Open Mic Nights and have some fun singing and playing.  But, that has taken a back seat too.

But, I’ll be back.  Like the Terminator – or a bad smell.

And what about other bits of me that may need a ‘correction?’  Well, my surgeon is already looking at my right wrist and talking about doing the same.  My 3 dislocated toes could be corrected with surgery but I’ve resisted.  I have an issue with my neck, which may force surgery in the future, but I really hope not.  My right hand could be straightened by replacing the knuckle joints, but I really don’t fancy that right now.

I could just go into hospital for a couple of weeks, get them to do everything and come out a new man!  I’m joking, but, this is the consequence of having a chronic disease for 30 years.  Things get bad and need some specialist help.

Could my outcome have been different?  I never think about what my life could’ve been like if the prick had acted differently.  Would I be better?  Would it have been an easier ride?  Would I have needed these various surgeries?  Would my wife and family not have had to deal with me being ill and in hospital numerous times?

It’s pointless to think that way.  I am who I am because of my experience and I kind of like who I am.

The one thing I do think about is, “If only I had known about paleo years ago, before all this shit happened”.  As a 19 or 21 year old, I may have poo-pooed the idea (like the prick) but, I did try various, apparently amazing, diets which claimed to be cures.  I even ate raw liver for heaven’s sake!  So, I’d like to think that I would’ve been receptive and would have given it a try.

Well, 4 years after giving it a try, I still believe it’s the right way to nourish yourself and the best way to a healthy life.  I haven’t reclaimed the same feeling I had when, after 3 months of being strictly paleo, I stepped away from my drugs.  But, in the last couple of years, I have had a few challenges, which I may or may not talk about!

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But, here I am.  Feeling guilty that I haven’t written anything for over a year.  Feeling humbled that people have asked why I haven’t been writing and that they want to hear more.  Feeling good about sitting in front of my PC at 1:40am getting this stuff down after a friend gave me a nudge (albeit without her knowing).

Feeling that I do have something to say and that, maybe, I could make a difference, even if it was just to one person – it would be worth it.  Feeling renewed and determined to keep writing.  Feeling like I should go to bed but I need to sort out the cat litter tray – bugger!

Feeling slightly embarrassed by the naff picture (I tried and tried but I just looked daft).

Be determined.  Be paleo.  Live healthy.

Sweets, Swelling and Selfies

This post was going to be called “Man Boobs No More”, but I changed my mind at the last minute.  I will, however, come on to my man boobs later.

Er……oops, that could be read a number of ways!  What I mean is, I will refer to the subject of my man boobs a bit later on.

I’ve been feeling a wee bit guilty about not writing.  I do love writing my blog and I was VERY surprised to find that my last post was in May last year.  Last year, 2013!  I would say, in my defence, that life has been awfully busy in the last 8 months or so.

So, what has happened?

Well, first of all I left one band and joined 2 others.  This meant getting down to quite a punishing rehearsal schedule and, in total, I had to learn around 50 new songs and be gig ready pretty quickly.  In the last 8 months, I’ve been in more random rehearsal spaces and done more music stuff than I can shake a stick at.

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Practise

Mad, brilliant fun but completely knackering.

It has also meant a lot of practise on my wee electronic kit at home, which is supposed to be the quietest way to get some practise in.  I still manage to disturb everyone in the house, though!

Then we had our summer family holiday in France, which was awesome.  I’ll get to that in a moment.

Then after months of delays, we were finally granted permission to extend the house.  We appointed a builder and the work started.  This introduced a load more distractions in the 10 weeks that followed.  The build was finished on the 20th of December, so Christmas brought new bedrooms for the kids, BUT, it still isn’t completely furnished or decorated and there is still some internal work to do (which is my job) so I have a few more distractions.

With all this going on, could I have found a couple of hours to write some stuff for my blog?  Yes, of course I could but I kept putting it off.

Then, this week, I received a reminder that my blog was due for renewal.  So I logged on and found a message from a fellow arthritic dated July 2013.  I hadn’t seen it.  Now, I make a point of replying to everyone who gets in touch via the blog, so I felt really bad that I had failed this time – and that it was from so long ago.

Closing her message, Sue wrote, “Please do keep posting.  Your blogs are incredibly helpful and inspiring.”  I suddenly remembered why I started this thing in the first place and felt quite humbled, so thank you Sue for giving me a wake up call.  And thanks also to Jono (my wife’s cousin’s husband) for telling Sue about my blog.

Right.  The last time I blogged I had reached the point of no return and had felt the need to take my medication.  This has happened twice since then and I seem to have settled into taking the drugs every 3 months.  I still haven’t had the courage to sit through one of these ‘mini flare ups’ and see if my joints settle down.  I get a bit scared.

I know that, at some point, I will have to try powering through these tough times but life just gets in the way.  There is always family stuff to do, my job, a rehearsal, a gig, stuff to do around the house and a whole bunch of other stuff that demands attention and action.

Lots of stuff!

And, let’s not lie about it, it’s bloody painful.  I lose all the strength in my limbs, I have no power in my hands, even to the point of struggling with cuff links and not being able to turn down my shirt collar.  I have trouble with stairs and my ankles and feet are sometimes too painful to carry my weight.  Enough really is enough when you have to ask your daughter to help you get dressed.  So, I give in, inject, and within days I’m feeling better.  Whether I would feel better anyway without taking the drugs is something I’m just going to have to think about trying – but I really am a bit of a scaredy-cat.

But, I could be helping myself a bit more.  Since France, I’ve been in and out of eating clean and I have the results to show for it – this is the Sweets and Swelling bit.

I know that eating wheat is bad for me.  I have an immediate reaction to it and it’s not pleasant.  Everyone should read a book called Wheat Belly – everyone!  Anyway, at a very nice restaurant in the tiny French village of St Avit Senieur, I ordered a pudding which was lovely but made with flour.  The kids told me off.  My wife shot me a disapproving look.  I knew what I was doing.  I had a leaky gut for a couple of days after that.  I stay away from wheat.

Processed sugar also has a very bad affect on me and I’m finding more and more that the longer I stay away from processed stuff, the more extreme the reaction when it gets into my diet.  I don’t have much willpower.  My colleagues at work will tell you, if there are ever sweets on our desks and I have one, you can kiss goodbye to the rest because I’ll have the lot.  I fall off the wagon now and then.

SportsMixWhen this happens, I’ll drop into Sainsbury’s or Tesco on the way home and pick up a bag of Sports Mix – they’re my favourite.  Give me 10 minutes and they’ll all be gone.

I’m just a sucker for them.

In the last few days, my wife has been at a networking event for people from her industry.  There were bowls of sweets on the tables and, because her friends and colleagues know we have 3 kids, she kept being given sweets to bring home for them.  We ended up with tons and tons of sweets and they were all like this, just processed sugar on a stick.

SweetsFor me, that’s a red rag to a bull and I ate quite a lot.  The result, crippling, painful swollen fingers and eczema.

Sugar really is nasty stuff.  Here are the results of my lack of willpower.  A beautifully swollen pinky joint and the nastiest eczema breakout I’ve had in ages.  If I stay clean, the condition of my skin is amazing.  If I don’t, this happens.

Finger and Hand

So, that was today, Thursday 6th February.  Give it a few days and my joints and skin will be back to normal.  Sugar really is poison and we should all stay away from it.

So, I’ve covered Sweets and Swelling.  What about Selfies?  Back to France.

Our holiday in France was amazing for so many different reasons.  We had a beautiful villa with a private pool, the weather was superb, the people were lovely, the little bastide towns were gorgeous, the countryside was beautiful and we discovered that the Dordogne is one of the most fabulous parts of the world.

I did what I always do.  Completely in love with the place, I was in a fantasy, talking about buying a farmhouse, selling up and retiring there and I slowed the car at every ‘for sale’ sign we passed.  All nonsense, of course, but great to let one’s imagination wander.

The food was a big surprise.  I found that I had a huge choice.  Ordering in restaurants was easy.  I did make a few poor choices, but I knew what I was doing and anyway, the kids let me know about it so I was shamed mercilessly.  For the most part, I was able to eat like a horse!  When in France……

Anyway, here are some of the things we ate.  Lots of meat, lots of veg, lots of fruit, just what paleo man would eat.

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We ate a lot of food – everyone did.  But, it was all good stuff.  We had a large cooked breakfast every morning, we drank LOADS of the local wine and ate a big lunch and dinner.  The entire holiday was really just hopping from one eatery to another, but, I have never felt so good and I actually came home 2.2 kilos lighter than I was before the holiday.

When does that ever happen?  People who lose weight on holiday normally have a dose of the squits or some other tummy troubles.  I caught myself in the mirror having a shave one morning and I thought to myself, “Blimey, you don’t look too bad”.  Following in my eldest daughter’s footsteps, I reached for my phone a took a selfie.

Selfie1With Twitter and Instagram at her fingertips, Catherine is definitely one of the selfie generation and we’re always trying to give her good advice, trying to keep her safe and generally giving her a hard time about it.  So, here’s me not taking my own advice, with clothes and without.  

selfie2I think I look OK for a 47 year old chronic arthritic who takes little to no exercise.  This is all diet, nothing else.

Which brings me to my man boobs.  3 years ago, I was growing a pair.  Now they’ve gone.  I’ve done nothing except change what I eat.  Aside from a few misguided lapses of willpower, I have kept my diet as clean as I can and I’m now at a steady 73 kilos, just perfect for my height.  My BMI is smack bang in the middle of normal.

3 years ago, my BMI put me in the overweight category.  Not now.  Even better, I know that I can control my arthritis with food.  I know what works and what doesn’t.  I’ve moved on from constantly experimenting – I don’t feel I have to do that any more.  I just have to do better and stay clean.  Maybe I can still be free from the drugs completely.

Maybe.

Drumming, Dodgy Digits and Doctors

Living with arthritis isn’t always much fun.  Being a drummer with active rheumatoid arthritis can be a bit of a challenge!

Well, I’m calling myself a drummer as if that’s all I do – it’s not.  I work full-time, I’m married with 3 kids, mortgage, cars and pretty much everything a 40 something guy with a young family has.  I play in a covers/party band, I sing backing vocals, I do sound and I carry a lot of gear!  If I could make drumming pay, I’d do it full-time.  That was always my dream as a teenager.

Arthritis, however, really cocked up any chance I had of making it as a pro, but it’s not been impossible to continue playing (and keep improving too) it’s just been difficult!

I’ve played drums since I was 11.  I started playing side drum with the Boys Brigade and quickly became their lead and solo side drummer in the bugle marching band.  That was a great introduction but rock drumming was where it was at for me!  I credit Stewart Copeland and Phil Collins as the people who really taught me how to play.  I spent months with my small kit, in the front room of my parent’s house, playing along to The Police and early Genesis, learning technique and making a bloody noise!

Then my Dad converted the attic and put me in it.

I joined my first real band when I was 14 and played my first gig when I was 15.  Education took a backseat and the dream of making it big took over!  I joined more bands, did studio sessions and just had a blast for the next 4 years.

When I was 19, the middle finger on my left hand swelled up quite unexpectedly.  I thought it was the result of trapping my hand in the bonnet of a car I’d been working on, but I didn’t remember it being sore when it happened.  I started to wake in the night with an elbow, knee, wrist or shoulder in excruciating pain and sweating like crazy.  I’d fall back to sleep eventually and wake in the morning with nothing wrong.  My GP was less than helpful.

Over the next 18 months, these nocturnal episodes happened occasionally, I didn’t really think much of them and visits to the doctor became pointless.  Then, 3 months after my 21st birthday and after I moved to London to work, painful joints started to disturb my sleep almost every night.  This became so bad that I tried not to sleep.  During one of these fitful nights, I had a vivid dream that I still remember.  In the dream a doctor told me that I had rheumatoid arthritis.  Three weeks later, a blood test confirmed it.

A confirmed diagnosis opened the flood gates, as if it gave me permission to be unwell and 2 months later, I had become very ill.  My weight had dropped to seven and a half stone, I was in an isolation room on the orthopaedic ward in Lewisham Hospital and was suspected of having AIDS.  This was 1987, little was known about HIV, medical staff were paranoid, the doctors couldn’t believe that just arthritis had made me this ill, all of my used bedding was incinerated, people gave me a very wide berth!  I KNEW I had little to worry about but the blood test to check their diagnosis took 8 days and, with plenty of time on my hands to think about people and stuff, I went a bit mental!  When my doctor turned up to whisper the result of the test – negative – I fell apart.  I had wound myself up to the point of being convinced (and scared) that I was going to die.

That was my darkest hour.  There have been many dark times since but none as intense as that time.

The whole experience was defining.  I found myself.  My wife doesn’t really believe in this sort of spiritual thing but does admit that she’s never had that kind of epiphany.  In a moment, I understood who I was, what my place in the world is, how I fitted and that I would never allow myself to be defined by my disease.

I have been comfortable in my own skin since that moment.  I can deal with what I have, I push myself to be active, to do more, improve more, be great at some things or at least good at most things.  I fill my life with stuff that stretches me and I will never give up!

People have often said to me that I’m so positive about how I deal with my arthritis.  That’s mostly true (how else would you deal with a chronic illness if it wasn’t with a gargantuan amount of positivity:  if you don’t laugh you’d cry, etc, etc) but it’s not completely true.  I have had loads of crappy times, ‘why me’ times, depressing times, I’ve been scared at times and I’ve given my family a lot to worry about!

Like the 4 operations I’ve had on my left hip, the serious flare up I had in 2005 around the time my twin girls were born and I was barely able to help my wife with all that work, the meltdown I had in my consultant’s room when I felt I couldn’t take any more, the horrid, pus squirting, necrotising infection I had in my wound after my last hip operation, which could have been extremely serious (and needed even more surgery) and the times I’ve had to spend in hospital and away from work.

My goal in the last 7 years (yes, they’re 7 now and my oldest is 11) has been to get back to the state I was in before 2005, when I was in remission.  I do feel that I’m only just getting better now and I believe that it’s mostly down to what I eat!

I’ll tell you more in a mo.