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Janice (Not So Cushie), Upcoming Book, Installment 1

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Janice writes: I have written a memoir about my experiences with Cushing’s Disease. An agent is interested in it but says I have to have a platform before she will represent me. So I need a following. I want this book to get out to show people the effects of Cushing’s in our lives and to help the families going through this to better help and understand the person suffering with this disease. In the book I mention this site. Unfortunately I found it after I already had the pit surgery.  I have also written a play based on my memoir. I am on a mission to inform people of this disease.


 

I will be adding to this post on Wednesday, Friday and Monday for people who wish to follow me.

The following is an excerpt from my memoir which is about Mary O’s site and the people on it.

“Looking up medical references, I find a Cushing’s help and support internet site, founded by Mary O with over 6,000 members world wide. Story after story all screaming the same thing: believe me, listen to me, I’m sick. Doctors telling them to diet and exercise or that this is such a rare disease they can’t possibly have it. Excuses to dismiss us. It isn’t that the doctors don’t have the knowledge, they won’t believe us. So many, too many, my story isn’t unique. I am the rule and not the exception. I have to make people believe us and so I write.

WHEN ANGELS KNOCK

By

Janice Barrett

I wake up aware that I’m on display. There are no tracks in the ceiling for curtains to be drawn around my bed like most hospitals. I want to stick my thumbs into my ears and wiggle my fingers saying, “booga booga,” but know this is not the place or time. These people will not have a sense of humour. The white ceiling melts into bare white walls oozing an antiseptic smell. I know why I’m here. I went crazy. I felt the snap.

A crackly voice over a speaker announces, “Code White.”

I’m thirsty, but beside my bed the water bottle is empty.

“Code White.”

Built into the room is an office with a glass partition  where a nurse is standing. The mattress crinkles like plastic under the sheet when I roll out of the single bed, in a row of single beds. Walking up to the window, without saying anything, I slide my empty bottle through a circular hole in the middle of the glass and she, without saying anything, passes a full bottle back to me. I saw this once in a movie and I know I’m in lockdown. She is Nurse Ratched and I’m in my own sequel to “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.”

I don’t want to be crazy like my mother. Death was her escape. I don’t want my children to live with the on-edge fear I did. Afraid that something they will do or say will trigger a psychotic episode and make them feel responsible.

“Code White.”

Music replaces the crackly voice, and I think of mom’s favourite song and her sitting beside the record player for hours on end with me hoping I’m safe. I lived in that world of “if only” for too long.

If only I hadn’t wanted toast.

***

I was safe at high school when my name was called after the morning announcements to come down to the Principal’s office. Dad was there. He said mom isn’t “feeling well.” I hate those words, his code words for scary psychotic. And I have to go home to look after her.

Mom looks okay, hair and make-up done to perfection, listening to Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas.” But I never know when they will come, the voices in her head.

As long as the record plays, I’m safe. It’s her distraction from the voices. Five hours and still when the needle lifts off the vinyl, mom’s hand reaches across to replace it again.

I keep mom in sight in the livingroom when I go to the kitchen to make toast. The wooden door on the breadbox hangs lopsided, the hinges pulled out from the wood, the handle broken, a thin post lying on the countertop. Mom is watching me. I pretend I don’t notice the breadbox hoping then she won’t react.

The needle scratches across Elvis’s lyrics, and I’m sorry that I wanted toast.

She bolts out of her chair and I freeze when I see her hazel eyes bright with her demons.

“He’s coming back to kill me. The breadbox slammed down three times to warn me that your dad is going to kill me with a gun or knife,” Mom says. “Please don’t leave me. Your dad manipulates people, he controls them,” she screams.

The cords in her neck protrude and her lips stretch to a thin line to spit out her phobia. “We’re his puppets. He’s pulling the strings making us do things.

Hate etches her skin, pinching her nose, turning her hazel eyes into green, glowering slits. Numbed by fear, I can’t move, can’t speak, my body vibrating.

Mom’s hands are on my shoulder shaking me to make me understand her terror. Her fingers kneeding into my skin, nails digging viciously when she throws me up against the kitchen cupboard. My head pounds the wood and I hear a small crack before she slams my numb body against a cabinet shrieking, “You control people too. Who do you control? I want their names.”

I try to get away, but she thrusts me back, a pull handle on a drawer jabbing into my hip.

“Give me the names,” she yells, and hurls me backward onto the countertop. I gasp, gulping for air when she hammers her arm down across my chest. Her arm, a metal bar, that holds me down, while her boney elbow scores into my ribs. Her eyes are as terrified as mine. Her weight crushes me as she opens the knife drawer by my left hip. The sound of metal blades clang while Elvis croons, “without you.” And I am frozen.

 

Stay tuned for the next installment.

 

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Moxie G, MoxieGarrett, Pituitary Bio

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August 1, 2017:

It’s been 3 months since my surgery. I’m still trying to piece my story together.

I think it begins with the pregnancy and birth of my last child in 2012. After 3 exemplary pregnancies and home births, I never expected the cholestasis, a 36-week breech & manual turn, or a retained placenta and near fatal delivery. After successfully nursing 3 children, I struggled to produce enough milk and gave up after 3 months. I was ashamed of my inability to have a healthy pregnancy and nurse my baby. I tucked it away.

Normally a very thin and “bounce back” kinda person (5″8/130lbs), I was unable to entirely lose my baby weight and then noticed a gradual weight gain. My wedding rings no longer fit and when I went to get them resized, I was told my finger had changed by 2.5 sizes. I was embarrassed. I took them off.

My once angular face became puffy & round. I developed acne on my back and arms. Nothing healed. I started noticing dark facial and body hair on my blonde body. Normally a pink person, I didn’t really notice when my skin turned red. Normally easy to bruise, my new ones didn’t alarm me. Having not escaped my pregnancies without some stretch marks, I didn’t think much about the excess ones I was sporting. Always complaining of feeling cold, I now felt like I was overheating and wanted to rip my clothes off. My cuticles cracked and bled and I chalked it up to winters in Canada. Two of my teeth broke and I figured they were just weak… it runs in the family. My newly prescribed glasses made everything look fuzzier… oh well, I’ve always had poor vision. I attributed my alarming hair loss to post-pregnancy normalcy. I figured the continuing lactation was just a left-over indignity. Pretty sexy stuff.

People asked me on a regular basis when I was due. My abdomen was completely rounded, my breasts were huge, but I still had comically thin limbs. It felt like my body was open to judgement and commentary. I was ashamed of my new appearance. I made light of it.

I stopped attending social functions because I hated the way I looked. I couldn’t bear going through the process of trying to find something flattering to wear and then having to field questions about my uncharacteristic weight gain. I felt like I always had to explain myself. It was humiliating. I withdrew.

I had a pathological, insatiable thirst. Normally not a large beverage consumer, I was pounding can after can of whatever I could get my hands on. I planned every excursion around knowing where there were restrooms and where I could buy my next beverage. My sleep was interrupted hourly. It became a joke among my family & friends. I limited where I would go and who I would be around.

I oscillated between having super-human energy (16-18 hour self-imposed workdays) to being so bone-weary that I would fall asleep sitting up at my computer, mouse still in hand. When my symptoms began, I was working in senior positions in advertising agencies. It was a demanding & high-paced lifestyle. Also during this time, I left my career to open my own business. In the 5 years I was sick, I launched a successful childrens’ retail store. I assumed my exhaustion was a natural by-product of my workaholism. All working moms are this tired, right?

I couldn’t understand… I was functioning at a high level… 4 happy kids, a great marriage, a clean house, a successful business, I was even freelancing as a strategist on the side. Why didn’t I feel like myself? What was going on with my body? I surely couldn’t be ill. I was doing just fine. Look. See? I should just try harder.

I often said to my GP that I thought my hormones were outta whack. Nothing was severe enough to warrant a doctor’s visit or alarm. Everything was manageable but there were so many small, strange things happening that I was sure something was off. Eventually, she ordered blood tests. I carried the requisition around for almost a year. I thought I was overacting and wasting people’s time. In June 2016, I had a severe sinus infection and went to my doctor. Sheepishly, I promised to attend to the blood work I had been avoiding.

A week later, my doctor’s office called and told me to walk myself to the hospital emergency room. My sugars were 34 (Normal is 4-6, Coma is 16+). I didn’t know what this meant but was assured it was severe. I called my husband and we went out for dinner. I sent him and my daughter home and walked to the hospital.

I started to get an idea of how serious it was when the hospital staff rushed me in and started giving me insulin shots. No-one could understand why my sugars were so high and how my body was tolerating it without shutting down into a coma. They tried unsuccessfully for 24 hours to bring my sugars down to acceptable levels. With no history of family or gestational Diabetes, I was diagnosed with Type 2.

Dealing with this diagnosis was hard. It was my belief that only fat, lazy people with horrible lifestyles developed this disease. I went home and had to learn how to live like a Diabetic. I cut sugar completely out of my diet. We had to relearn how to grocery shop and cook. I had to start reading and understanding food labels. My husband made me disgusting quinoa muffins. Being a Diabetic became a full-time hobby. And the medications wreaked havoc on my digestive system.

The road to finding out what was causing the resistant Diabetes was in full throttle. I met dozens of doctors, nurses, technicians, and specialists. I had CTs, MRIs, X-rays, diabetes management & dietician appointments, urine tests, blood tests, hormone tests, pre-op & pre-admitting appointments, visual tests, Neuro-opthamology appointments, ENT consults, Endrocrinology reviews… It was constant and exhausting. I developed a deep hatred for medical tape.
So, Diabetes symptoms led to a Cushings Disease diagnosis, which eventually led to a pituitary tumour diagnosis. I had a 9mm Adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH)-producing tumour. Surgery was booked. Jokes were made. All of a sudden, I needed everything about as much as I needed a hole in the head (They really did drill a hole in my skull. It’s held back together with glue!). But being diagnosed with a brain tumour was a relief. Something beyond my control was responsible for my current condition. I didn’t do this to myself because I was incompetent, lazy, or deserving. This was done to me and now we could try to fix it.

My surgery was booked at St. Michael’s Hospital with Dr. Cusimano here in Toronto for April 21. Due to a hospital error, my surgery was cancelled at the last minute and re-booked for May 1. After my family travelling here to be with me, getting my house in order, making arrangements for my store, childcare, packing my bags, saying cryptic goodbyes to my loved ones just in case, and even shaving my legs, I was crushed. I had mentally prepared and now I had to wait another 9 days and do it all over again.

Getting prepped for surgery was terrifying. I was in surgery for just over 3 hours and in intensive care for 3 days. I slept a lot during my immediate recovery. I had a bout of Diabetes Insipidus. But the good news? My cortisol crashed immediately. This assured everyone that the tumour was gone. The bad news? I felt like absolute garbage. My mom, my husband, my brother, and my best friend were there with me. I let them take care of me. I let them take care of everything.
Surgical recovery is manageable. Getting the stitches & stints removed from my nose was absolutely horrible and I had what I thought was a panic attack directly after the procedure. It really scared me (I now know it was my adrenalin crashing. My surgery has left me with an adrenal insufficiency which means my body cannot handle any stress, illness or injury.). Scar tissue has formed around one of my nostrils. It is affectionately known as “Mini Nostril”. And I can tell you that not blowing your nose for 3 months is one of the most annoying things in the universe. I went back to work 8 days after surgery. I shouldn’t have, but I’m a show-off. Everybody that sees me is stunned at the transformation thus far. My skin is a normal colour and I have lost nearly 30 lbs. People that knew me before I got sick say, “Welcome Back”. People that didn’t know me previously ask me if I am ok or don’t even recognize me.

Chemical recovery is terrible. My sugars are behaving more normally and I’ve been able to discontinue one of my three medications. I started my hormone weaning a few weeks ago and it is so hard. My latest blood tests show that my body is still not producing it. Every muscle and joint aches. I barely eat anything. I have headaches. It takes me hours to fall asleep. I’m dizzy. I’m weak. I’m exhausted. I’m not sure my digestive system will ever be right. I’m so tired of complaining. This will be my reality for at least a year.

But, I am hopeful. I know that I will heal. And most of all, I am grateful… for the love of my friends & family, the health of my children, the healthcare system of my country, and the chance to reset my life. I put my wedding rings back on yesterday. They fit.

(And what of that fucking tumour? The hospital adopted him. I had to sign papers and everything. You’re welcome, science.)

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MaryO: Giving Thanks for 30 Years

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Today is the 30th anniversary of my pituitary surgery at NIH.

As one can imagine, it hasn’t been all happiness and light.  Most of my journey has been documented here and on the message boards – and elsewhere around the web.

My Cushing’s has been in remission for most of these 30 years.  Due to scarring from my pituitary surgery, I developed adrenal insufficiency.

I took growth hormone for a while.

When I got kidney cancer, I had to stop the GH, even though no doctor would admit to any connection between the two.  Even when I got to 10 years NED (no evidence of disease) from cancer, I couldn’t go back on the GH.

However, this year I went back on it (Omnitrope this time) in late June.  Hooray!  I still don’t know if it’s going to work but I have high hopes.  I am posting some of how that’s going here.

During that surgery, doctors removed my left kidney, my adrenal gland, and some lymph nodes.  Thankfully, the cancer was contained – but my adrenal insufficiency is even more severe than it was.

In the last couple years, I’ve developed ongoing knee issues.  Because of my cortisol use to keep the AI at bay, my endocrinologist doesn’t want me to get a cortisone injection in my knee.

My mom has moved in with us, bring some challenges…

But, this is a post about Giving Thanks.  The series will be continued on this blog unless I give thanks about something else Cushing’s related 🙂

I am so thankful that in 1987 the NIH existed and that my endo knew enough to send me there.

I am thankful for Dr. Ed Oldfield, my pituitary neurosurgeon at NIH.  Unfortunately, Dr. Oldfield died a couple months ago.

I’m thankful for Dr. Harvey Cushing and all the work he did.  Otherwise, I might be the fat lady in Ringling Brothers now.

To be continued in the following days here at http://www.maryo.co/

 

MaryO: Growth Hormone Issues

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Wednesday, October 25, 2017, 11:08 PM on Facebook

Me: My $450 monthly co-pay refrigerated medication was overnighted to me yesterday, arrived a couple miles from my house at 7:05 this morning. UPS couldn’t get it to me today so they’ll “deliver it tomorrow between 12:30-4:00”.  If that ice is melted, the medication is ruined. I see angry phone calls tomorrow.

 

Friend 1: My Specialty pharmacy replaces it free of charge if that happens. Or at least that’s what they tell me will happen. I asked because our UPS driver is terrible.

 

Me: We’re on the phone with the pharmacy right now.

 

Friend 2: OMG, you have one of those copays too?
😡 (Part D? So you have the same donut hole joy we do in Jan/Feb?)
I hope the pharmacy replaces/handles it. “At least” it’s tracked, so clearly documented as being en route for too many hours.

 

Me: Yup. People not on Medicare can get this close to free.
😦
Still on the phone.
😦 I hate this, ummm, stuff.

 

Friend 2: Ditto. The drug companies can give it for $25/copay with private insurance, and some f’d up anti-kickback statute prevents them from doing the same for anyone on federal insurance, including Medicare, even when it’s under patent or otherwise has no generic (which is the point of the damn statute). 😡

The drug companies HAD (in our case, until this year) worked around it by funding independent patient copay programs to avoid the bad PR/increased regulation risks from being like Gleevec a decade ago (let’s bankrupt the cancer patients for whom this works and keeps them in remission indefinitely!), but at least with the myeloma oral chemos they’ve pulled their funding and the copay assistance programs have shut down, AND they’re raising the prices 20% (in the US, not countries that can legally, oh, bargain with pharm companies) to cover other drug failures. (I’m sure they’re hardly turning any profit at all, though, and the combined actions are totally 100% necessary. And I’m someone who *wants them* to turn a good profit so they’re incentivized, but come on. It’s absurd that the $$$ drugs that are a quick sub-q injections in an office building is fully covered by Part B and supplemental, whereas the “patient convenient” pills cost one $13k or so annually in copays.

 

Friend 2: But aside from my thread jacking rant (😳), I really hope you’re a) not entirely out right now, and b) it’s resolved at no additional cost to you or having to stay home again all day to sign for delivery.
😞

Me: We’re still on the phone
😦 This is the 4th person.
This person on the phone can’t guarantee that it will be still cold but is hesitant to send another shipment at no cost

Friend 2:
🙄 Will they send at no cost if it arrives ruined? Like, you can have a time stamped photo and video of melted ice, and the tracking info with a delivery time stamp?
😕
It should really come out of their insurance or likely-contract with UPS.

Me: Don’t know yet but they’ve added a 5th person on the line. This can’t be the first time UPS messed up a temperature-sensitive medicine.
Now they’re going to call back in the morning. (HAHA)
🤣

Friend 2: I *constantly* want an eyeroll reaction button on FB. Good luck, and as long as you don’t run out before it comes I do have faith that you’ll end up not-screwed! (It’s just going to cost you time and frustration vs a second $450.)

 

Me: Still on the phone. This is nuts. I have 1 more cartridge (about 15 days worth)

Friend 2:
👍🏽 to enough on-hand,
🙄
🙄
🙄 to the phone mess?

Me: Phone call is over, nothing resolved. 5 reps, a couple robots and background music.To be continued in the morning…

 

Friend 3: I had that happen but it would have made it 3 days. I told them the cost and how long it could be in shipping. If they were to do as planned, it would be on them. They got a courier and I got it that night.

 

Friend 4: I would report it to whom ever you get the medication from . When I was getting a refrigerated medication they would never send them to arrive on a Sat.or around the holidays. They always made sure I got it next day Shipment !

 

Me: Mine is marked “next day” and they ship it by UPS Next Day Air Saver®

 

Me: I guess they saved the money but the Next Day got lost somewhere.

 

Friend 5: UPS explained to me that when the package is labeled “Air Saver” UPS can deliver the package anytime that day. If the package is labeled just Next Day Air, they have to deliver it in the morning. The problem is that the RXplan won’t pay the additional amount required by omitting the air saver.

 

Friend 6: Praying you get this mess resolved!!!

 

Me: Thanks!

Friend 7: This is what shipping insurance is for; it’s between the pharmacy and the shipper. ETA: only stable up to 24 hrs at room temp.

 

Me: Mine is only supposed to be between 2° to 8°C (36° to 46°F)

Friend 7: and starts losing potency quickly if not. Me: I know
😦

 

Friend 5: Mary, I had the same problem on a day Texas temperature was 104 degrees. UPS delivered my GH the correct day but after 7 pm. The medication was warm when it arrived. My specialty pharmacy gave me a hard time about it. I phoned the manufacturer and talked to a nurse on the support team who said the med needed to be replaced and to have the pharmacy contact her if needed. I called the pharmacy and argued with the pharmacist for 15 minutes. I asked him if he wanted to be responsible for my taking a medication that wasn’t safe. He finally agreed to replace it. The box with my med was only half covered by the cold packs, and the tracker didn’t show damage, so the pharmacy argued about replacement. I responded with the fact that those trackers are not always accurate. They can and do fail. If he had continued to argue, I would have insisted he talk to the nurse with whom I spoke.I called my insurance plan and complained about the pharmacy. If you call the manufacturer of your med, be sure to get the name of your contact there. Good luck. I’m sorry you have that hassle.

Friend 8: So sorry!! Hope it gets to you in good, COLD condition. What an aggravation for you.

 

Friend 9: Refuse it… they replace it

 

Me: This doesn’t require a signature so they usually just drop it and run. Luckily, we have a dog who will sound the alarm.

 

Friend 9: Oh and Ask for fedex delivery all of the time

 

Me: 4:31 PM. The “window” today was 12-4:30. It’s still not here and back on the phone.

 

Me: I forget to mention that it’s going to take 8 days to track this package. Egads!

 

Me: I had to leave. Tom sent me a text “Donna from last night Called at 5pm I told her we were now considering replacing Humana.They are declaring the package lost and sending a replacement shipment immediately.It will arrive by 10:30 am Friday”. We’ll see! Several hours of phone calls and 15 people on their side. Aarrgghh

 

Friend 2: I will say that FedEx has been really consistent with ours (which ironically would basically be fine if lost for a few days, aside from extreme temperature ranges), though the whole designated “morning” and “afternoon” windows are a joke. (“Afternoon” has come before 8 am, “morning” at 3:30pm…but always the correct day! Just irritating since it’s so regulated – next-gen thalidomide, all those birth defects – it *has* to be signed for.) In case they’ll let you request FedEx after this.
🙄

 

Me: Today’s meds are coming UPS again but it shows as “Out for Delivery” today. Then, again, it said that on Wednesday, too. The difference is today has to be signed for and it’s supposed to be here by 10:30 so I can take my mom to a birthday lunch.
1 hour, 15 minutes and counting…

 

Me: Success!

Ren, Undiagnosed Bio

3 Comments

 

Hi there. 27 year old female, never had kids. It’s been an awfully long couple years and I’ve been researching and reading all you lovely people’s bios on pituitary tumours, Cushing’s disease and Acromegaly for about that long.

My symptoms onset at a time where my lifestyle was out of control. I was drinking heavily, using drugs and didn’t have a care in the world. Or so I thought. At the time of my heaviest use (cocaine) I started having strange laundry list of symptoms.

Pressure headaches
Pain in my abdomen
Acid Reflux
Excess hair growth (abdominal, face)
Purple stretch marks on my abdomen
Weight gain of approximately 30lbs in a month (distributed in only my trunk/abdomen)
Swelling of arms, face (around eyes too) sore jaw, enlarged tongue (ridges on the sides, from my teeth)
Swelling of hands, feet & legs (increased foot size from size 7 to 8)
Exhaustion
Hair loss on scalp
Itchy, sensitive skin that looks very thin (see-through almost, blue veins very prominent all over body) skin redness as well, large pores. Dull eyes.
Fatty deposit on the back of my neck
Collar bones no longer visible
Diagnosed with anxiety, bipolar disorder and ADHD
Memory loss, brain fog
Irregular menstrual cycles and increased pain
Tunnel vision at times and blurred vision. Sensitivity to sunlight.

At the time, I was so messed up my perception of reality was pretty skewed. The combination of my lifestyle and all the symptoms mentioned above motivated me to get clean (a year and a half so far woohoo!) I knew something was wrong and I needed to figure out my baseline without substance abuse to get to the bottom of it. At my lowest point I met up with my parents who I hadn’t seen in a month and they commented on how different I looked. One of my friends from narcotics anonymous hooked me up with a great physician as I didn’t have a family doctor. I was determined to get to the bottom of all this.

When meeting with my new family doctor (after getting sober) all of the focus was put onto my recovery and mental health. Seeing as she didn’t know me beforehand she didn’t know the petite, energetic person I used to be. I voiced my concern about my physical changes as well as my mental ones. I was referred to a psychologist. Diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression and anxiety and prescribed meds for all of the above. The interesting thing is I didn’t have these problems before the physical symptoms onset. This was followed by countless ER visits for panic attacks, being dismissed countless times for strange physical symptoms that every medical professional attributed to my history of drug use and mental health. I believed them at the time. I was also diagnosed with TMJ disfunction and started seeing a chiropractor and massage therapist with no improvement.

The year that followed was the most challenging of my life. I thought I was going crazy. I tried eating an extremely healthy dairy free, wheat free, exercising constantly with no change. Seeing various doctors, explaining my symptoms only to get basic bloodwork done and sent on my way. It wasn’t until I decided to get off my psychiatric meds and focus on finding a diagnosis for my physical ailments that things started to change. I visited the ER and the doctor on call actually listened, he referred me to a rapid assessment internist. To date I have had a thyroid panel, hormone panel, all basic bloodwork, thyroid ultrasound, abdominal and pelvic ultrasound, cortisol 8am test, 24 hour urinary cortisol- all came back within normal range. I have been tested for angioedema, (neg) referred to an allergist, dermatologist and endocrinologist.

When I saw the endocrinologist he basically said “I see people with your symptoms all the time and there is never a diagnosis, so you’ll probably have to live with this” I was instantly worried and heartbroken with that response. He ordered some tests, ACTH, another 24 hour urine, T3 T4, DHEA-SO4. I’m waiting on these results now. Saw my internist again after the endocrinologist as he also ordered a prolactin and ACTH test which I hadn’t obtained the results from yet. ACTH was slightly elevated as well as prolactin. (High) not by very much. He ordered a CT scan of my head which I have to wait a month for (he said possible hyper prolactinoma of the pituitary). I’ve asked to have my growth hormone (IGF-1) levels checked, endo says “nope you don’t have Acromegaly”

I am trying to stay strong but I’m on the verge of losing home based my business as I’m a hairstylist and am starting to develop tremors in my hands, I can barely get up in the morning, I feel as though no one understands what I’m going through. I have a sense of urgency within me to find a diagnosis, my body is screaming at me that something is very wrong. My symptoms above increase in severity by the day. Have any of you diagnosed with Cushings out there experienced only slightly elevated ACTH results or prolatcin? I was also curious if anyone has an enlarged/ swollen tongue as a form an ACTH secreting tumour, I’ve tried to find information on it but only points to an acromegalic symptom. Something inside of me is telling me this is either pituitary or adrenal related. I can’t help but wonder if my drug use somehow stimulated my pituitary.

My personal life is non existent, I have isolated myself from my friends who no longer reach out or accept me (even though I have attempted to confide in them). I feel as though everyone but my family thinks I’m completely out to lunch. Just want to thank everyone on this site for sharing their stories, when I’m feeling hopeless and at a dead end, reading your bios are the only thing that is keeping me going and pushing for a diagnosis!

 

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MaryO – Giving Thanks for Naps

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Adapted from this post: http://www.maryo.co/giving-thanks-day-6-october-23-2017/

 

 

Today I am thankful for naps, even longer than those on the chart above.  Ever since my Cushing’s days in the early 1980’s, I’ve needed long daily naps – like 3 hours each – to get through the day.

My endo says I’d have more energy if I took more Cortef, but when I do, I gain more weight.  Of course, I *might” have more energy to work off the weight.

<sigh>

So, I nap and I’m very thankful that I can arrange my life to accommodate my long naps.

I’m also thankful that

 

 

 

 

Courtnay P (Courtnay), Undiagnosed Bio

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Hi

I think I have Cushing disease

Caused by a pituitary tumor

Though i’vs asked,

My doctors have not yet given me an MRI

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