The road to diagnosis
It was a cold, dark February morning and once again, my eye and facial pain were back. The antibiotics my GP gave me the week before did not work at all, and he seemed clueless about what could be wrong with me. I had been on several rounds of antibiotics, I had seen a dentist, went to the Eye & Ear Clinic and I had seen a homoeopath, yet nobody was able to give me a clear answer. The only person somewhat clear on what was wrong with me said that I needed to have my immune and central nervous system checked out. Fast. She was an intuitive healer and turned out to be 100% correct. Go figure. On my way to work that morning, sitting next to a cold…
I need a cure
If a person can turn from predicting illness to anticipating recovery, the foundation for cure is laid. (Bernie Siegel) Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning. (Albert Einstein) Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible and achieves the impossible. (Anonymous) Illness shows us what we are (Latin proverb) Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they’re supposed to help you discover who you are. (Bernice Johnson Reagon) © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with…
Trigemin…argh!
Brain fog. “Being blonde”. Now I know what it feels like. Years ago I acquired the “just being blonde” tag by others in my team at work because I suddenly needed time to digest ideas, questions and discussions. I would never have referred to myself as “being blonde” in those days because I used to be quick-witted, but I was dark-haired back then, and still am. In other words: my elevator of knowledge does not travel all the way up to the top floor right now; it keeps sticking somewhere between the 3rd and the 4th floor. I hear people talking, but there’s no understanding flowing from hearing and seeing them move their lips and vocal chords into linguistic marvels of the 21st century.
The sorry state of neurology in Ireland
On Tuesday evening, I received a late invite to join a lobby group of the NAI (Neurological Alliance of Ireland) and the Irish MS Society to protest in- and outside Leinster House, the seat of the Irish government. I was quite happy to do so, because, after being an MS Society spokesperson last year relating to new MS medication being denied to Irish patients, I more than wanted to put my shoulders under a new campaign to highlight the state of neurological services in Ireland.
The road well traveled
It’s always nice when people see positive changes in you, especially when they took a long time to manifest. A famous quote goes that “happiness is a journey, not a destination” and there is definitely some truth in that. Despite a few minor setbacks on a health level, I’ve sailed through my main illness this year without hospital stays or urgent medical care. As I’m writing this blog post I am balancing an ice pack between the back of my head and the couch to numb a headache and eye pain, and aside from a few bouts of major fatigue and nerve pains throughout the year, I am now, I believe, in the best physical state since quitting my job in December 2009. The fatigue, neuropathic pains, forgetfulness and tremors…
Wise words…
because…so… © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2017. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner are strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Captain Jack is back!
Oh yes he is… or rather: she is! Or I am… With quite a captain-look. Black eye patch hiding an eye so desperate to jump out of its socket and an eye that is telling me to stay away from reading, writing and watching television. Hhmm… somehow that is quite hard to do in this day and age of audiovisual technologies, and well… my daily life. But not to worry, I’m sure Captain Jack – or moi… – can find some remedy that doesn’t involve over-medicating on painkillers, boxing gloves to punch my hurting eye out, coffee cans of the hottest black stuff or a brain and eye transplant. Right, so what can be done? Double hhmm… Sleep. Dog. Coffee. Ice cream. Although maybe the latter is telling my stomach…