phew!

Despite my body kindly reminding me on a minute by minute basis that I do in fact have PoTS, it’s been a good week, so here’s my favourite view of Sheffield (from Meersbrook park if you’re interested).

Drumroll please ……… after over a months break I’ve finally got back on the exercise bike!!! This is partly because after struggling on for a while I finally rang the specialist nurses who let me increase my second dose of the day of Ivabradine, which has so far helped give me a bit of a boost. I’m hoping eventually they’ll let me try some other combinations of medications as I’m a long long way off feeling vaguely ‘normal’, whatever that ends up being. For now, though, I managed 5 whole minutes on the bike. Those 5 minutes where the hardest minutes of exercise I’ve ever done (yes, even including cross country in year 9, or the dreaded bleep test in PE). I was on such a high afterwards I may as well have run a marathon.

I’ve been to my first PoTS support group meeting and it was lovely to meet other people with PoTS who understand what you are going through, and what a mad mad thing PoTS really is.

Without a doubt, the best thing that happened this week was when I went in to my GP for yet another sick note. We’ve had a system where I ring up the receptionist who then lets a GP know that I need a new note. So I haven’t actually been in contact with a GP since before my actual diagnosis and I thought I’d go in to see them in person for this one. Best decision I could have made! Before I’d even sat down in the consulting room this lovely GP who I’d never seen before was saying what I tough time I must have had lately and asking how I really was. Those ten minutes were probably the best GP appointment I’ve ever had even though I only needed a sick note. We talked about my diagnosis journey and how uncontrolled my symptoms where, how long it might take to recover enough to regain a decent quality of life, what my career options might be, how I was mentally coping, if my family were supportive, what my manager was doing to help me regarding work…. I could go on! I’d like to add that he didn’t claim to know much about PoTS, but he had at least heard of it and knew enough to know how dehabilitating it can be.

I came out feeling quite emotional, it made me realise how damaging it was to have had bad experiences in the past because it made me feel that it was a constant battle to be believed by health professionals. My whole past experience means I can doubt myself or not want to bother GPs or even the PoTS specialists that I’m under as I worry about the reaction I might get. A tiny irrational part of me worries before each appointment that I will have a repeat of the past and be told I’m just an anxious young adult with nothing wrong. Which is silly I know but I think it is a natural reaction to have. It’s hard to undo the 10+ years of being told nothing is wrong when you know deep down something is in fact very wrong.

In other news, I’m waiting for the outcome of my work capability assessment questionnaire and after many phone calls and confusing letters my oh-so-generous Employment Support Allowance payments have begun. Let me put it this way, I’m really grateful for once that it’s my parents I owe rent to!

The hot weather recently has been tough, tougher than I imagined, so I’m enjoying the torrential rain and downpours at the moment. Also, more often than not I’ve been waking up feeling as if I’ve been hit by a bus. I’m sure it would be much more painful to actually be hit by a bus, but it’s the only way I can think to describe it. Everything aches so it’s taking superhuman effort to get up, but most days I manage! I feel so relieved I’ve made it through the last week or so and am still smiling and (relatively) sane*.

*to be fair that is debatable!!!

diagnosis: day one

Today’s been a big day. I was up bright and early (well it was early for me anyway, so before midday!) for my second ever appointment with the PoTS nurses. The day I’d find out if I had PoTS or I was a delusional mad woman making all my symptoms up for sh*ts and giggles like some GPs might have thought… It was no surprise at all to find out that yes I do in fact have PoTS. Which is good considering what I’ve called this blog.

In all seriousness though it was such a relief because there was always that niggling doubt that I’d turn up and they’d say hey, that GP was right, you really should be back at work there’s nothing wrong with you. Or hey, I know you only spent 24 hrs in bed that one time with D&V 6 months ago but you are just DECONDITIONED (I hate that word I’ve heard it far too often!) and there’s nothing wrong with you that a 30 minute run and some abdominal crunches won’t fix.

I won’t bore you with stats but during the tilt table my heart rate increased by quite an impressive amount (you need an increase of at least 30 bpm upon standing to be diagnosed with PoTS and I definitely qualified!!) and in the words of the nurse my bp was ‘all over the place’ despite only spending 15ish minutes upright.

Inevitably I’ve been started on a wonderful drug (well I’m not sure how wonderful it is yet, only had three doses!) called Ivabradine to slow my heart rate, increased my salt intake to 1 teaspoon a day (yuk) and am keeping on with the super tight compression tights and the 3 litres of water that makes me need to pee every 30 mins or so (not easy when you’re wrestling with the compression tights I can tell you!!).

The specialist nurse said today was like ‘day one’. It’s the start of things rather than the end. Now I have my diagnosis things can move forward and symptom wise can only get better. Well I can’t remember exactly what she said (thanks brain fog) but it was something positive and lovely like that!

So I’m feeling pretty good about things (well, symptom wise I’m feeling horrendous but you know what I mean!) …roll on the future!

note: I feel I need to clarify, the huge vast majority of GPs I’ve ever met are absolutely amazing and deserve much more credit than they get. I think part of the problem is the lack of awareness surrounding PoTS which means when people like me come along over a number of years with vague, random symptoms they don’t even understand themselves, it’s so hard to join the dots and get a diagnosis. There are so many health professionals out there who simply don’t know that PoTS even exists.