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Sushmita Sen’s battle with Addison’s disease

December 1, 2025

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It was in 2014 when the actress left her fans shocked when she revealed that she was diagnosed with Addison’s disease. Talking about her condition, Sushmita said that the years she battled Addison’s disease “were pretty traumatising”. After fighting for 4 long years with the chronic condition, the actress healed and emerged stronger by exercising daily.

Addison’s disease is a disorder in which the adrenal glands don’t produce enough hormones. The gland present just above the kidneys starts producing too little cortisol and too little aldosterone. The condition can affect people of all age groups and sexes. The symptoms of the disease develop slowly but can be life-threatening if not treated on time. Extreme fatigue, weight loss, darkening skin, low blood pressure, salt craving are some of the signs of Addison’s disease. Treatment of the condition involves taking hormones to make up for the missing ones. The disease is caused when the adrenal glands are damaged, affecting the production of cortisol and aldosterone hormones.

Post recovery, the 46-year-old actress shared that meditating with nunchaku helped to fight the disease and helped in the healing process. “I healed in time, my adrenal glands woke up, no more steroids, no withdrawals and no auto-immune condition as of 2019,” she had shared. Even after that, Sushmita kept on with her extensive workout to stay fit and healthy. From time to time the actress shares a glimpse of her workout routine which includes yoga, meditation, callisthenics and bodyweight workout.

Adapted from https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/health-fitness/health-news/sushmita-sens-battle-with-addisons-disease-and-the-workout-that-helped-her-emerge-stronger/photostory/87988141.cms

Andrea P, Steroid-Induced Cushing’s

December 1, 2025

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What can you do when the cure might be worse than the disease?

“Have you thought of losing some weight? This would most likely take care of the many complaints you have.” The all too eager yet condescending young intern continued despite my blank stare, “Have you had a sleep study done?”

How many times had I been in this situation? Change the doctor, but keep me there, in the crazy patient’s chair. “Well, the patient has five children, a long history of miscarriages, a fairly recent history of a traumatic abdominal hysterectomy… couple these with the recent death of her father to cancer and basically all normal testing… clearly she’s a depressed, middle aged woman hitting the Ben and Jerry’s a little too much and addicted to Lifetime movies.” Or something like that.

What’s worse than the tiny intern with a huge ego, was the troll under the bridge. I still had to face my PCP who listened to me a little less than a mother who’s heard “Mommy, mommy!” for the hundredth time in an hour, from her 3 year old.

For the better part of two years, I’d seen her for so many things. Each time I’d ask her why my bones were breaking so easily. I told her I was shrinking, to which she replied “It’s impossible to shrink an inch and a half in a year.” Then laughter. I’d ask her why the nausea & vomiting, low oxygen, and migraines were there… all of this was ignored and off to another specialist I’d go (for a similar experience), with more Prednisone in hand. When she didn’t see hardcore proof (i.e. a lab tests or a specialist’s report confirming the symptoms in front of her) the things simply did not exist, despite glaring symptoms.

Another specialist I’d seen did care and did see the disturbing, rapid transformation and accumulation of symptoms, so he sent me to my PCP for testing. I later found out that this specialist feared all along what I had. He had been warning me that Prednisone was dangerous and he hated it. I didn’t. I loved it. It was the only thing that relieved my severe neuropathy pain, the nausea, vomiting and migraines. Without it, I was in the E.R. at least once a week.

I suppose I could cut the PCP some slack and say that every doctor, when they themselves are the young intern, dream about the day when they can show off their seniority and knowledge (let’s not forget power) in front of another young intern. I could say this, but I won’t. Not when I know there are the most wise, sympathetic, world renowned and respected doctors, who’ve been practicing medicine longer than most interns have graced this earth, yet they treat the interns (and patients) as equals. They remain humble.

No, this PCP had no excuse for demeaning me for twenty minutes in front of this man. Alas! She did finally do her job and gave me an exam. It took her less than thirty seconds to blurt out “OMG Andrea! You have Cushing’s Syndrome!” All of the cool was gone. She fumbled with her papers, stuttered, murmured to herself… She was a mess.

andrea-fShe left the room for ten minutes and returned more composed and more… herself. “Andrea, I’m sure you’ve read about Cushing’s Syndrome on the internet.” This sentence was delivered with the same tone and sarcasm as a Disney villain about to pounce on an unsuspecting bunny (or other furry creature… did I mention the “fur” I had sprouted?). She continued, “You have every symptom of Cushing’s Syndrome. The buffalo hump is huge and classic.” She went on about my symptoms. All of which I’d been begging her to look at before this appointment.

By the end of the appointment, she had decided that she’d need to talk to my then rheumatologist; I’d need all sorts of testing, and foremost, “You HAVE to get off of that Prednisone Andrea!” Certainly she knew I wasn’t convinced that her prescriptions of Prednisone were somehow my fault, however the wee intern might have sucked that one up. Perhaps he believed it was my rheumatologist that prescribed all of it; he did do his part as well. They were both in it together.

I left the office miffed and confused. “Well,” I thought, “Let’s go home and see what this Cushing’s is, on the Internet. Probably some sort of psychosomatic disease where you think yourself into the side effects of Prednisone.”

At the point where I began my Internet search, I had changed from an active, really attractive (I can toot my horn, ’cause it ain’t so now) about to be 40 year-old, homeschooling mom of five beautiful children. I was in bed for 3 weeks prior to my PCP appointment. I found out later that my family thought that this was it, I was dying. Indeed, I was close to death and it’s a miracle that I didn’t die.

I had gained 40 lbs. for which easily 10 of it rested on the top of my back. The Buffalo Hump. The rest was hanging out in strange pockets of fat all over my middle and face. I was disoriented and in cold sweats all of the time. Everything hurt.

On the evening of that fateful Friday after my PCP appointment, I joined a Cushing’s support group online. It took me three weeks to compose my introduction post because I had not the energy, nor the wherewithal to finish it. In the meantime however, I found out enough about Steroid Induced Cushing’s Syndrome to know that I was in big trouble.

Every bad side effect one can get from steroid use, I am getting or have. What’s worse is, my adrenal glands have atrophied. They won’t wake up and naturally produce cortisol that our bodies vitally need. Every organ and gland in our body relies on the production of cortisol. When you have Cushing’s, you’re in a real pickle Fred.

With me, I’m continually in either Cushing’s mode or Addison’s mode. Two opposite diseases. You’d be surprised at how many people in the medical field do not understand this. Most disturbing is how many endocrinologists don’t understand it. My body is used to high levels of cortisol so when I try to wean off and my body gets stressed, sick, injured, needs surgery, etc., I go into adrenal insufficiency with the chance of adrenal crisis.

Ahh, adrenal crisis! My nemesis! Is it? Isn’t it? Hospital? Just a Prednisone Boost? These are questions I ask myself daily. I was very near dying during those few weeks before I saw my PCP, because my body was literally shutting down. Again, I’m still amazed that I didn’t die.

Right. I realized for me, a person with autoimmune disease, with all sorts of crazy symptoms, weaning down to a healthy level of cortisol was going to take another miracle. Those message boards? Every time I went to send a personal message to a member that I could relate to in experience, they were dead. Dead. Young women, neglected by so many doctors who thought that they too, were fat and depressed.

Monday came and I called my PCP as scheduled. When she answered the phone she acted as if she didn’t know why I was calling. Before a minute was up, I realized she was getting as far away from admitting I had Cushing’s Syndrome as she could. Both she and my rheumatologist had been prescribing me prednisone without any solid diagnosis (at that point). Basically the Prednisone was completely unwarranted. She told me to wean off of the Prednisone and “Um okay?” then let the silence hang there. I was speechless (and as you’re well aware of at this point, is pretty darn near an oxymoron).

I took it upon myself to see an endocrinologist, who I owe my life to. He ordered a bone density test, a bunch of labs, told me to get a medical alert bracelet ASAP and a whole lot more. He was shocked that none of this had been done.

The bone density test showed that my PCP was half right, I didn’t lose an inch and half off of my stature in less than a year, I had lost two and a half inches. I began a strong osteoporosis medication. A little later, I was put on 5 liters of oxygen at night and as needed during the day, a bi-pap machine and I learned more about cortisol stress doses and began searching for new doctors.

For the next year and a half, I would see a total of 3 more rheumatologists, 5 neurologists and 2 new PCP’s. I was admitted to the hospital too many times to count. I saw 5 more specialists, wasted tons of money, precious time and was demeaned further than I could have ever imagined coming from people who are supposed to “Do no harm.” at one of those big name clinics. Same thing: fat and CrAzY. At the end of it all, I had given up hope. I was on more Prednisone than when I had first seen my endocrinologist.

My teeth had begun rotting because of the calcium loss and my Sjogren’s Syndrome did not help matters there. I had 6 extractions in 3 months and was never able to get back down to the 10 mg. of Prednisone I had begun with. Stress, illness and then having to let the beautiful eyes of our children watch it all…too much.

I saw my endocrinologist for a checkup and he yelled at me. I yelled at him. We both yelled together and then he picked up the phone in front of me and called a few specialists (the most-awesome-est specialists the world has to offer) and made me appointments with them. These doctors graciously took me on as their patient and began working as a team with my endocrinologist to get me off of this Prednisone.

Well, it’s been 8 months since that loud, intense “time of fellowship” with my endocrinologist. Despite the fact that my teeth have deteriorated to the point where I will have them all extracted on Jan. 2, 2014 (Happy New Year!)… and I found out I have both thyroiditis and hyperparathyroidism and well, a bunch of other … stuff. I’m due to wean down to 9 mg. of Prednisone on Thanksgiving day! I’ve lost a little weight. There’s so much to be thankful for!

I have lost much, but what I’ve gained in return, I would never, ever give up. My faith and that of my family’s, has grown in ways that would never have happened had I not gotten this dreadful disease. I found many things. I have found that my husband really means it when he says that I’m beautiful. My children mean it… I have what many have deemed, “The Ugly Disease” yet I feel more beautiful than I ever have. I feel more blessed than I ever have. Most importantly, I remembered and again found my hope, through faith.

Faith is the essence of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. When those of us with serious and chronic illness, have no faith in a Hope, we are dead persons walking. Had my endocrinologist not been divinely appointed to verbally kick my butt, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would not be here trying to type this story of mine.

I can’t write nor say a thing without a moral. So the moral of my story is this: know who and what your hope is in. Know what the unseen things are and have fat faith. Take your illness and use it. Use your life! It’s beautiful!

Article reposted with consent of the author from Have Faith: Cushing’s Syndrome

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Melissa F, Pituitary Bio

November 26, 2025

MaryO BlogTalkRadio, Golden Oldies, Interview, MaryO, Pituitary, Pituitary Surgery, Success Stories, Treatments , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

golden-oldie

Melissa F was interviewed on BlogTalk Radio November 3, 2010. She has had pituitary surgery. Archives are available on BlogTalk Radio and on iTunes podcasts.

From the Clutches of Cushing’s

A journey through Hell… with a happy ending
by Melissa Fine

The most insidious aspect of Cushing’s Disease is, while it is attacking you physically, it is destroying your self-esteem, your peace of mind, your very spirit. That more doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, drug, alcohol and weight-loss counselors (and the list goes on) don’t know how to recognize something that, in retrospect, seems so blatantly obvious is appalling—and not only tragic, it is, in my opinion, criminal. I often wonder how many Cushing’s victims we lose to suicide because they were not able to get a diagnosis before they lost the will to live… simply because no one thought to look for the definitive answer in their blood, urine or saliva. I am certain that Cushing’s isn’t nearly as rare as the doctors believe it is. What is rare is their ability to recognize it.

This is my story…

First, you need to know that I was always a pretty happy girl (though PMS- related mood swings have always plagued me). I come from a very close family, always had a lot of support, had a group of true friends I could count on, and was always very driven to accomplish my goals. I moved to Las Vegas from Southern California in 1994, right after graduating from UCLA, to move in with the guy who would become my 1st husband (Rat Bastard!). My goal in life was to be a writer, and within a month, I landed a job with a magazine publishing company and was getting paid to do what I love. You should also know I was always way too skinny. No matter what I ate (and I was a picky eater, but what I did like, I ate as much as I wanted of it), I was lucky to keep my weight above 100 pounds. I was happy if I could maintain 105 pounds, so I didn’t look so gaunt…

In 1995, I started noticing something wasn’t right with me. I had every reason to be thrilled with my life, but I was constantly blue. Down. Not tragically depressed—that would come later—but I just never seemed to feel happy. I also found myself complaining of body aches and fatigue all the time. And I kept noticing big, unexplained bruises on my arms, buttocks, and thighs.

In July 1995, I was covering the opening of a new casino/spa in Mesquite, NV. I came out of some exotic acupressure chakra-cleansing massage with one thought: I WANT BEEF! Now, the mere smell of steak would always nauseate me, but I was starving and steak was the only thing on my mind. I ate a 16 oz. New York Strip plus a ½-pound of crab for dinner. Woke up the next morning STARVING and ordered another steak to go with my eggs, hash browns, toast and pancakes, and devoured it all.

That’s when I knew something was really wrong.

Over the next five or so years, I went to many doctors with seemingly vague, unrelated symptoms. I was always famished, so by this time, I was 145 pounds. The depression was also heavier, but at the same time, I felt a constant sense of anticipatory anxiety, like something was about to happen. In less than 10 minutes, a psychiatrist labeled me with “bi-polar 2” and I was thrown on mega- doses of serious anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. I caught every cold, was always bone-tired, constantly in pain, and was finding it more and more difficult to focus on anything. I went on and off various anti-depressants, none of which seemed to work for any length of time. The consensus among the many medical minds was that I needed to diet and exercise.

2000 brought a lot of change—and not the good kind. I found yet another new “family” doctor. This guy, though, actually tried. He noticed, after running a blood panel and looking at my many bruises, that my red blood cells were “abnormal” looking and that my white blood count was up. Up enough that, just to be safe, he wanted me to see a specialist. He told me not to be worried that “oncology” was on the specialist’s wall… he was just really good with blood.

By late August, I was in the oncologist’s office. After looking at more lab results, he promptly scheduled me for a bone-marrow test—which, in his opinion, was just a formality. He told Rat Bastard and me that I definitely had leukemia. My soon-to-be ex-husband asked him flat out: “Is there any chance that this could be something other than leukemia.” The good doctor said, “No. She has leukemia. We just need to find out which kind.”

Bone marrow tests take six weeks to come back. Six days before (and about two weeks from my 30th birthday) the results that would tell me which kind of leukemia I definitely had came back, Rat Bastard decided he “didn’t feel the same way about me anymore” and walked out.

Imagine my surprise when the good oncologist didn’t find the “Philadelphia” chromosome he was expecting to see. Still, he stuck to his guns and was really, really sure I had leukemia. He then took a job at MD Anderson in Houston, TX, but insisted I see his other good oncologist every six weeks or so to keep looking and monitoring my white blood count and my screwy red blood cells. After many months passed and my condition worsened with no explanation, the second good oncologist told me, “You are a ticking time bomb.”

Not helpful.

So, my wonderful boss (who was also a good friend, and, as it turned out, was the guy I was supposed to marry!), paid to send my mom and me to MD Anderson to speak again with the first good oncologist, who was now heading up a leukemia department of his very own. Time for bone-marrow tap Number Two, because he was positive that pesky Philadelphia chromosome was there somewhere.

It wasn’t.

I was back to square one. Only now body parts were starting to break. I fractured my foot by stepping out of bed the wrong way. I tore my meniscus— an injury I was told is usually found in professional tennis players—by doing a single jumping jack in a futile attempt to exercise. A new specialist ran a bone density test that showed I had osteopenia, the precursor to osteoporosis. Another specialist discovered I had insignificant, benign tumors on my adrenal glands—something, he told me, I had in common with approximately 25% of the population. But those revelations were the least of my concerns. The depression turned into an all-consuming black hole. For the next three years, not one day went by that I didn’t sob uncontrollably. I couldn’t do my work, because I couldn’t concentrate long enough to edit a simple story. I couldn’t read a book or even sit through a half-hour sit-com. I no longer recognized myself in the mirror. Even worse, old friends and even my own cousin—people I hadn’t seen in a few years—didn’t recognize me either. They literally walked by me as though I were a stranger. My physical appearance was that dramatically different. I would wake up at 5 a.m., ravenous, and I would FORCE myself to wait until 6 a.m. before I would allow myself about a third of a box of Cheerios with non-fat milk. It was the only time of the entire day that I would actually feel “full.” It only lasted for about two hours, tops… but for that brief window, I found relief from constant hunger pains.

Alone, I no longer knew my own mind. I hid away in my craft room and started endless scrapbooking projects that I never finished. The pretty paper and nifty hole-punches somehow made me smile a little. Like many, I would imagine, I started to self-medicate. Prescribed painkillers.

Thankfully, mercifully, my family bonds were stronger than ever. My parents even moved to Las Vegas to be near me. And that guy, my boss, Glenn… though he met me in my 20s, when I weighed 100 pounds, married me in my 30s, knowing I was truly sick, not knowing what illness I had, and at my heaviest. I was 188 pounds on my wedding day, and he made me feel like a beautiful princess.

At some point around 2003, I had yet another new family doctor. Overall, his diagnostic skills were, at best, questionable. He knew just enough to send me to other specialists. But he was generous with his prescription pad, so I continued to see him. I do, however, owe this particular doctor a huge debt of gratitude. He was the first to mention the word “endocrinologist.” I didn’t know there was such a thing.

Many lab tests later, the endocrinologist told me I had too much of something called “cortisol.” She became annoyed when I asked her what that meant. She faxed her notes back to my family doctor. I noticed she had scrawled the word “Cushing’s” with a question mark after it. I told my doc I didn’t know what

Cushing’s was. His exact words were: “Well, I do know what it is, and you don’t have it.”

The endo disagreed, I guess. She had me scheduled to have my adrenal glands removed. Somehow, 10 days before my surgery, my many questions and stubborn attempts to understand why I was going under the knife really pissed her off. I received a certified letter informing me that, due to my “abusive and indignant attitude,” I was “fired.”

Meanwhile, my mom started Googling. She read the symptoms of Cushing’s Disease as though it were a page from my diary. It was a perfect fit. Except that, according to what she had learned, the lab results weren’t making sense. They were pointing to my pituitary gland, not my adrenals. I cancelled the date with the surgeon and headed back to the family doc’s office. He was quite pleased with himself, claiming he knew it was Cushing’s all along. (He still takes great pride in that epiphany. Why let the facts stand in the way of a good story, right?)

Family doc told me it was great news that my pituitary gland was the culprit: All I would need is a highly focused beam of radiation and some salt pills, and I’d be as good as new. He filled my prescription and sent me to another endocrinologist.

This guy was clever. He actually sent me for an MRI. Unfortunately, the MRI showed nothing. He was, however, in agreement with the previous, previous, previous doctor who told me the adrenal tumors were nothing to worry about. I trusted him, because he dropped the name of a renowned neurosurgeon at USC in Pasadena: Dr. Martin Weiss. I did some research. Dr. Weiss was the real deal—a graduate of Dartmouth and Cornell and a professor of neurological surgery. Finally… an honest-to-goodness expert.

Husband and I packed our bags and were off to Pasadena for a venous sampling. Who knew there was such a test? I found myself in the bizarre position of praying with all my might that I had a brain tumor.

Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Dr. Weiss confirmed that the MRIs did not show the tumor, but he did point to a microscopic something-or-other at the base of my pituitary gland that was tilted ever-so-slightly. He explained that he had, at best, a 50–50 chance of finding the tumor and removing it. He also told me that salt pills weren’t going to do the trick.

In December 2004, Dr. Weiss successfully removed the tumor from my pituitary gland.

This is the part of the story where I’d like to say I dramatically awoke with remarkable bravery and perfect hair to a room filled with calla lilies. Instead, my eyes opened to four or five post-op nurses, I was hooked via a tangle of cords to various machines, my mouth was so dry my tongue was stuck to my palate, and I was frantic to find a toilet. Bedpans just don’t work for me and my bladder was going to explode. After much arguing and cursing, the nurses decided unhooking me was safer than allowing my blood pressure to go any higher. They rolled over a porta-potty, I went forever, and no sooner did they re-hook me than I had to go again.

Learned a new term: diabetes insipidus.

The morning after being released from the hospital (prescription for diabetes insipidus filled and at arm’s length), I remember that, for the first time in nearly a decade, I couldn’t finish my breakfast. I was full.

I’d love to end it with that perfect tagline, but…

Back in Vegas, the brilliant endocrinologist put me on the whopping dose of 20 mgs of hydrocortisone a day. Anxious to “jump start” my adrenals, he quickly lowered the dose to 10 mgs.

After more than a year of seeing a cardiologist for my racing heart; a (mis) diagnosis of panic attacks because it felt like I had an SUV parked on my chest; repeated bouts of nausea and dizzy spells; low blood pressure; increased joint and muscle pain; more depression; and a complete neurological work-up for symptoms too similar to MS for comfort; my incredibly insightful endocrinologist told me to stop coming to his office, go home, and praise God because I was “cured.” In what can only be called a surreal segue, he then added that I should also praise God for my inability to get pregnant, because children are so selfish and self-centered that they only degrade your quality of life. Not surprisingly, he retired from medicine shortly thereafter.

It was at this point that I found the Cushing’s Help and Support boards and verified that I was not, in fact, insane.

One doctor’s name was repeatedly touted: Dr. William Ludlam. He sounded like the savior of all endocrine-challenged souls. I was astounded when he, personally, actually took my call. After listening patiently to my story, he informed me that I was not yet his patient, and therefore, he could not and would not offer me any medical advice or instruction over the telephone. He then told me a story of a hypothetical situation in which certain familiar-sounding symptoms would, to a trained hypothetical specialist, be immediately recognized as the brink of full-blown adrenal failure. I took the hypothetical hint, did some quick online research—and (following only my own hunch, rather than immediately seeing a local doctor as I should have done) took a significantly higher dose of Cortef. Within an hour, I felt human—a feeling I hadn’t known in more than 10 years.

Dr. Ludlam made room in his schedule and, the following week, off we went, at last down the road to recovery.

I celebrated my 40th birthday last month. As 2011 rapidly approaches, I can finally say that my adrenal glands are now functioning on their own. I have not had the need for Cortef in more than a year. I have battled the addiction to pain killers and am emerging as the victor. My size 4 jeans once again fit, and while I still fight depression, it is no longer my primary state of mind. Slowly, I’m regaining energy and enthusiasm. My thoughts are clear, my will is strong, my creativity is restored.

I live.

—–#—–

If you or a loved one is suffering with Cushing’s or Addison’s or you believe you might be, and you need to talk, please feel free to contact me with any questions or simply for an understanding ear. I can be reached at mfine@casinocenter.com (please put “Cushing’s” or “Addison’s” in the subject line) or follow me on Twitter @SinCityTweeter. My thanks and ever-lasting gratitude to MaryO, www.cushings-help.com , and all the fellow Cushies who helped me along the way.

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Jordy in the News…Again

September 29, 2025

MaryO Adrenal, Adrenal Surgery, Male, News Items, Treatments , , , , Leave a comment

Jordy’s first bio is here: https://cushingsbios.com/2025/08/25/jordy-pituitary-bio/ and a news item is here: https://cushingsbios.com/2017/04/18/a-new-newspaper-article-on-jordy/

 

Life without fear: The people who can’t feel afraid

On a bright afternoon at Disneyland in 2012, Jordy Cernik strapped himself into a rollercoaster and waited for the familiar rush of adrenaline. The clanking ascent, the plunge into speed—this was the moment his stomach should drop, his heart should pound.

Instead, nothing.

No sweaty palms. No jolt of panic. Just silence in his body where fear used to live.

Jordy, a British man treated for Cushing’s syndrome by having his adrenal glands removed, had lost the ability to feel afraid. Later he would leap out of planes, zip-wire off Newcastle’s Tyne Bridge, and abseil down London’s Shard without so much as a quickened pulse. For him, what most people call terror is just another Tuesday.

And Jordy isn’t alone.

The woman who couldn’t be scared

Decades earlier in Iowa, doctors met a woman known as “SM.” She has Urbach–Wiethe disease, a rare genetic condition that destroyed her amygdala, the almond-shaped brain structure thought to govern fear.

Scientists tried everything: horror films, haunted houses, snakes, spiders. Instead of flinching, SM leaned in. “She had this almost overwhelming curiosity,” recalls Dr Justin Feinstein, a neuropsychologist who studied her. “She didn’t just fail to avoid danger—she sought it out.”

SM can laugh, cry and rage like anyone else. But fear—the instinct that keeps most of us alive—is absent.

Too little fear, too much risk

That absence has consequences. SM has been held at gunpoint and knifepoint more than once. She also stands so close to strangers that researchers measured her “comfort zone” at just over a foot—half the distance most people maintain.

“Her case shows that the amygdala isn’t only about fight-or-flight,” says psychologist Alexander Shackman. “It helps us navigate social life, too.”

When panic breaks through

But fear isn’t completely gone. In a striking experiment, Feinstein asked SM to inhale carbon dioxide—tricking her body into thinking it was suffocating. To her own astonishment, she panicked. It was the first full-blown terror she had felt in decades.

The experiment revealed a split in the brain’s wiring: external threats like predators or attackers rely on the amygdala, but internal threats, such as suffocation, are managed by the brainstem. With her amygdala destroyed, SM’s brainstem went unchecked, flooding her with fear.

Why we still need fear

For most animals, fear is survival. A mouse without an amygdala survives minutes in the wild before becoming lunch. Fear sharpens instincts, makes bodies sprint and hearts hammer. It’s biology’s built-in alarm system.

And yet SM has lived half a century without hers. Jordy, too, moves through the world unfazed by heights, speed, or risk. Their stories raise a tantalising question: in modern life, where predators no longer stalk us, do we sometimes suffer from too much fear rather than too little?

“Fear may once have saved us from lions and cliffs,” Feinstein says. “But today it often feeds stress and anxiety. Maybe the challenge now is learning when to silence it.”

On paper, Jordy Cernik has the kind of courage adrenaline junkies would envy. He has hurled himself from planes, dangled off skyscrapers, and zipped across dizzying bridges without so much as a flicker of fear.

But he insists it isn’t bravery. It’s emptiness.

“I don’t get that rush everyone talks about,” he admits. “It’s not courage, it’s just… nothing.”

That “nothing” can feel hollow. Fear, after all, doesn’t just protect us—it colours life with urgency, sharpens moments, makes victories sweeter. Without it, Jordy says, the world can sometimes feel oddly flat, as if one of life’s most vivid emotions has been erased.

For SM in Iowa, and Jordy in Newcastle, the absence of fear has opened unusual doors but also exposed real dangers. Their lives highlight the strange paradox of fear: too much of it cripples us, too little can leave us vulnerable, but just enough is what keeps us alive and makes life thrilling.

Perhaps that’s the ultimate reminder—that fear isn’t just something to overcome, but something that makes us human.

Source: BBC

 

Louise, Addison’s Disease

September 27, 2025

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Arianna Corrieri is still at primary school, but has a responsibility beyond her years.

The 10-year-old helps care for her mum Louise, who for the past five years has struggled with several illnesses, including the rare disorder Addison’s disease – which leave her fatigued and unwell.

That means Arianna has to help her mum take medication and look after her younger brothers, while also getting herself to school.

Now the Motherwell schoolgirl has been nominated for a BBC Make a Difference award, with the winners to be announced next Monday.

For Louise, the impact of her daughter’s help is clear every single day.

“Without Arianna, I wouldn’t be able to get through my day,” she says.

“I know it sounds ridiculous because she is only 10 years old but she genuinely does so much. It’s bonkers given her age but she is really responsible.

“The understanding she has of everything to do with the illness is unbelievable.”

Louise told BBC Scotland News she was previously a bright and bubbly mum until several years ago, when she found herself constantly tired and having to go to hospital regularly.

Doctors eventually diagnosed her with Addison’s disease – a rare disorder of the adrenal glands that means they do not produce enough of the hormones cortisol and aldosterone.

That has left Louise reliant on dozens of tablets to manage the condition and generate hormones artificially, although she recently was able to move onto a infusion pump to help her.

“Steroids keep me alive, it’s as simple as that,” she says.

However Louise was then diagnosed with another condition, gastroparesis.

This means Louise’s stomach digests food slower than it should, resulting in her having a restricted diet – to the extent even drinks like coffee can only be taken a certain way.

The overall result is a constant battle with chronic conditions, leaving Louise with no energy, regular sickness and sometimes low moods.

“The worst time of the day is first thing in the morning,” says Louise.

“I need to take fake hormones to get going, but I will always feel groggy when I wake up, until they take effect.

“Arianna makes sure her brothers are ready to go, checks they’re eating her breakfast and gets ready for school – it’s like she’s the mum at that point.”

Adrenal crisis

Louise’s husband works night shifts, which is why Arianna has to take charge sometimes.

A cheerful girl who speaks enthusiastically about her love for horse riding, Arianna says she tries to do “whatever I can” to help out her mum, from helping her with taking tablets to walking the family’s dog when Louise is too unwell to go out.

She also needs to be prepared for her mum’s condition worsening quickly.

Addison’s disease sufferers can sometimes be struck by what’s called an adrenal crisis – when levels of the hormone cortisol falls significantly in a person’s body.

If left untreated, it can be fatal.

“When you’ve got a long term illness, even when you need to go to hospital, sometimes you don’t want to” says Louise.

“You can be adamant you’re not that bad and don’t need to go anywhere. Arianna knows when to override me and tell me I need to go to hospital.”

Make A Difference awards

Louise explained how some of Arianna’s friends don’t understand why she can’t always go out, or why the schoolgirl is so keen to be around her mum.

She added being nominated for the Make a Difference award, in the Young Hero category, had been a huge boost for her daughter.

The awards seek to recognise those who go the extra mile to improve life across the country.

Arianna will learn at the end of the month whether she has won the honour, with a ceremony taking place in Glasgow and the winners announced on BBC Radio Scotland’s Mornings programme with Kaye Adams on 29 September.

The judge for the award is Sheli McCoy, the CrossFit athlete and weightlifter who is best known as Sabre in smash-hit Saturday night show Gladiators.

“Arianna does more than most adults do,” says Louise.

“She’s an inspiration to everybody and we’re all beyond proud of her.”

From https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cvgjvy4jz59o

Voices from the Past: Louise (Louise), Iatrogenic Cushing’s disease Bio

July 13, 2025

MaryO Steroid-Induced, Update , , , , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

steroids

 

I am a 52 year old wife and mom of 4 who has had strange symptoms which will be a year this coming August.

My first symptom that I noticed as something strange was brusing beneath the skin on my left arm and then noticing that the skin easily tore. My doctor ran some bloodwork but still couldn’t figure anything out.

Later my best friend researched my symptoms and suggested I ask my doctor, which I did at my next appointment. Oddly at that next appointment the nurse checked my vitals and everything seemed ok. When the doctor came in I was leaning on my husband’s arm and my systolic # was 92.

From there he referred me to an endocrinologist. We discovered, after many blood test, that my issues were caused due to ACTH issue with my adrenal glands and that was caused due to taking varying amounts (usually 9 mg) of Entocort for around 12 years.

Now that I have been researching some of the symptoms I realize I have had them for at least a year. I have weaned down to 3 mg and want to get off of the Entocort but the doctor says that I will die if I just stop the medicine. I am due to have bloodwork July 13, 2015 and meet the doctor to discuss the results on July 23, 2015.

My FEET are killing me! I have felt SO alone and I am very thankful to find this support group….now I just need to learn how to use the message boards, so please pardon me if I flub.

Any help and advice is appreciated! Can this go away? I am PRAYING that it does!

Thank you in advance! Louise

~~~

update

Updated based on Louise’s comment.

My name is Louise. I am NOT a technogical person and cant seem to figure out how to get the most out of this forum, and I KNOW it is a good one. I desperately need contact with others who understand because they are going through this. Someone please tell me how? I just need some help. My bio says that I am “undiagnosed” but that is not longer true. The end of June I was officially diagnosed with “Iatrogenic Cushing’s disease”. I felt badly for 3 days, one of which was Father’s day and I was NOT going to the ER on that day. The second day I packed up a necessary bag, but still did not go to the ER. The third day I’d had all I could take and asked my husband to take me to the hospital. My stomach and my head hurt and had been hurting. The ER doc told me that my potassium and my sodium levels had bottomed out and that it could cause neurological damage and / or seizures. Scared me. I was admitted to the hospital for 4 days.

My Cushing’s was caused by long-term use of Entocort, or budesonide. No one could make sense of my “crazy bloodwork” because my cortisone level was “non descernable”, yet how was I alive? The second visit with my endocrinologist, just as she walked out the door, it hit me and I asked her if it could be the budesonide. She immediately recognized what was causing my Cushings. No one had picked up on the medicine because it was listed under the generic name and did not have a “cort” in the word of the generic. I have weaned completely off of the Entocort and it was not easy but I was determined. I have been on a maintenance dose of Cortisol beginning at 20 mg per day and I am not down to 15 a day. I want to go to a lower dose but need surgery on my thumb and so I know I will have to go back up to 50 mg for a while as I deal with the surgery. It will be the second surgery on my thumb, a surgery to correct the first surgery. Long story on the thumb, which I will skip….however, I originally messed up by thumb because I could not sleep. I asked my dr about Ambien and he said that would be good. I wanted to be sure it would not cause crazy behavior in any way, but once I took it, within 5 minutes (because I knew after taking the medicine I had to go immediately to bed within 10 minutes. I had a HORRIBLE fall and remember none of it. Once diagnosed with Cushings I realized that not sleeping, like for a day and a half being wide awake, was a result of Cushings.

My GI dr who prescribed the Entocort was kind and professional, truly caring but he didn’t ask me about ANY side effects, saying this drug was “the best” and that it really never had any side effects. I went in with skin on my arms so thin, brusied and bleeding, but he was only interested in the GI issues, even after I TOLD him I had Cushings. I finally had to tell him flat out that the Entocort he prescribed for me beginning 09/26/07 was what CAUSED my Cushings.

I ACHE, my lower back and feet, often my hands. It is hard to feel like an attractive woman when I am shaped like an apple with a moon-shaped face, but I decided I’ll just say heck with that…..there are other worse parts I am dealing with, yet, not being vain, that still matters to me self-esteem wise.

As I weaned from the Entocort my blood pressure went crazy up and down, but mainly high, which was some to begin with. Now it drops down and I feel like a wet rag. I am sleeping a LOT and when I get up during the night or in the morning I feel like I walk like Herman Munster. It is getting to me because it is hard to do things with my kids because I don’t have the energy or the ability to do things with them (the youngest 2 are 17 and 15 and they live at home. We also have a 22 year old and an almost 20 year old who are living on their own working, or on their own in college. I miss some things because I just “fall out, or hit falldown as I call it”. Maybe someone here can understand what I mean when I say I “hit falldown”. Others don’t understand. I have not told people in my community about my condition due to a former friend who is just plain nosey and called other friends to find out why I was in the hospital. I am not ashamed of the Cushing’s, but I don’t want to be gossip fodder either.

I did break down and asked my dr for a handicapped tag so that I don’t have to walk so far. I still have swelling in my legs, but hopefully that is better, but the pain is not. My balance is off and I have to steady myself when I stand up.

My cortizol levels have gone from “non descernable” to 2.4 to 4.3, so at least I am heading in the right direction. It is baby steps but I am thankful that it is going in the right direction, however slowly.

I would appreciate anyone getting in touch with me and have checked the “notify me of new comments via email box”. It is hard because people don’t understand and those I DO tell in confidence, I have a hard time describing it.

I don’t know that I used this forum correctly, but I am trying. Does anyone else have those “fall down” got to lie down NOW, moments where you lie down for hours? Somedays I feel like I get nothing done.

Thankful to have a place to voice my feelings. God bless each one of you. Louise.

 

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Linda, Pituitary Bio

May 2, 2025

MaryO Adrenal Insufficiency, Adrenal Surgery, Bipolar, Diabetes, Pituitary, Pituitary Surgery, Recurrence, Thyroid, Treatments , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I Am 52 yrs. old . My sympmtoms began when I was 40 yrs. old. I was at at a yearly physical.  I was extremeley athletic. I used to ren 70 miles a week. when I was 17 to 19… dopamine I believe kept me well.

One year prior to my  symptoms ..I was 39. I was very fatiquiged..my children were suffwering. They were 6  and 9.  They are now 17 and 20.  I feel I stopped raising them at this age.  If any of you have seen the Sting  the movie with Paul Newman obbserve that he  dunked his head in ice.  I was at Lincoln city , Oregon when I attemted this. procedure. I say procedure and I didn’t even know a tumor was forming on my pituairy gland. Who kneew? Not me. It didn’t even occur to me that a growth was growing in my brain!!

I went from 135lb to 265lb. in 3 months. I was so frightented!!!!!!!!!! My doctor told me to go to an encronologist…very important DOCTOR!!! Most doctors do not have the slighist idea what Cuhing’s is ..Dogs ,horses, and PEOPLE get it. Some doctors are either dumb or totally ignorant. The    E. doctor said it looked like I had Cushing’s syndrome. I then made him fall off his chair in laughfter! My family and I recently put a family dog down with Cushing’s disease. I wanted to know if it was contagious?? No, he said wiping his eyes from laughing. He appologigized when I started crying.. I wanted to know how I got it. My dogs was in the adrenal glands. Fatal. We said goog-bye to BUDDY>> My doctor said he hoped I did not have the same dianosis.

After thousands of dollars later..Thank goodness we had great West insuanarce..Get it if you can. Covered everything 100 percent. Discovered a benign tumor on my left pituiary gland. They removed it through my nose . I also had my 9th sinus surgury. It was also from my left nostril. I got fake diabetes. It went away when I left the hospital. The weight started dropping with the help of a nutrisionist. I was taking hydrocortisone. pills.  I lost 65 lbs. A few years later my head started  hurtimg worse.

After One day of test at a major University OHSU I was diagnosed again with the same tumor . but 3x’s bigger . Surgery through my mouth.  Weight came back and some. I asked what my options were? #00lbs, heart attack and death. They told me to remove my adrenal glands. I did. I now have diabetes ,I take 200mg. because my thyroid is so large. Guiess what?? My immunec system is nill.

I wanted to be healthy I loved bananas… get what I got ?? I got the e-coli scare with the spinacach in the bag. E.R. 3 weeks . Everyone in yellow smocks..  No visitors! June 2007… I lost 40 lbs. I was going out to lunch with my husband saw double.  Uncontrollable votimiting… E.R. Encronologist. or family doctor. After driving 90 miles an hour 45 minutes away we arrived. I was talking all the way through it . No pulse ..I said am I dead? My doctor said Shut up. No heartbeat. I said am I dead yet? She said shut up agin. I wass vvvvvvvvv teching. I said where are the cameras for HOUSE the t.v. show. I sell novelty neck ties my huband Allen just so happenned to be wearing a Bug’s Bunny tie…I guess you know what i said ..What’s up doc??

The Paramedic behind me was 2x’s larger than my husband He said I was going to the hospital. They put me in the ambulance. Allen asked my husband if he wanted to come . He said he would follow. When they closed the door Allen said if you feel anytjhing  hit my knee. 10 seconds later I hit his knee as hard as I could. I felt an elephant!! If you want me to tell you what death is ask me. I died for 5 seconds. plus I was clinically dead at the doctor’s office. My potassium level was7 normal is 4.2 to 5. If anyone has seen Austin Powers drinking poop quadruaple it    I attempted to drink it.  Started vomiting it. A Doctor was walking by…USE ANOTHER ORAFACE!!!! The butt. I was drowning. Needless to say , my children were screwed up again.. I called the oldest Brandon ,the youngest Nathan and a very nice gentleman if i wasn’t married I would marry him…SHAROn 14, MEGAN 11 and ALLEN!! I now take fludocrt and hydrocortisone @ 4:00 P.M.  everydyt. If I miss two consecutive days I will die.

I am also Bi polar I feel their is a correlation with Cushing’s disease. I take Depacote etc. 12 more pills plus hydrocortosone in the morning too! I Have 2 books at home Manic Depressive Disorder. By Fredrick Goodwin and Jay Jamison. Worth reading. Stated Cushing:s disease is derived and assossiated with bipolar. I believe I have been bi polar from birth.  Only episodes  I had as a child…TRAUMA!!!!! I now have addison’s disease too! What else could go wrong?

By the way, I have a theory  bipolar is assosiated chromosome 13.  I also think cancer is a virus. Hit or miss. Cushing’s is fatal i not treated properly. Adrenalectomies are the worst . Take Vicatin .I threw it at my husband I did not want to get addicted to it like House. I used ice 24/7. I won’t go into the detatails it was bad. If you do get one , move I used a swifter, and a cane. No wheel chair or death for me!! I’m a fighter!!

 

Thank you for allowing me me to tell my story. I want to write a book about my experiences. I hope there is a publisher out there so I can get my Life story across!!

 

Sincerely,,

 

Linda

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JoAnn (Flojo3), Adrenal Bio

May 5, 2017

MaryO Adrenal, Golden Oldies , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

 

After reading this website for awhile, with much interested and appreciation, I thought I should post my introduction even though I don’t have a confirmed diagnosis yet.

I am a 63 year old Canadian widow who recently retired – partly because I was finding work difficult, i.e. not as sharp mentally, fatigued, less motivated, sleepy in the afternoon, digestive problems and some days just not feeling well.

My symptoms started about 11 years ago. Acne/boils started developing on my face and I also noticed, after growing my hair longer, that it became curly after being straight all my life. About this time I also gained about 35 lbs. quickly. As I wanted to quit smoking I went on the Atkins Diet and walked at least an hour about 6 days a week. I did lose the 35 pounds in 5 months. However, when I did quit smoking some months later I gained 65 pounds in 6 months – more than I thought I deserved to gain (I am 5′ 2″). At first my doctor was not concerned as he said I had not ever been heavy and would start losing this weight. However, after three years or so he began to strongly encourage me to do so especially once I developed very high blood pressure and cholesterol. I was trying but with no success.

In addition, some of the symptoms I have been experiencing, some off and on, are: dry skin, skin tags, thinning hair on the top of my head, e, aches and pains (including repetitive strain injury), fatigue and anxious feelings. Last summer, for a short period of time, I had very dark pigmentation under my arms, under my breasts and on my forehead. I am on medication for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, thyroid and hiatus hernia.

Over the years I did mention some of these symptoms to my doctor and he said it was probably because of my overweight. I have been doing research on the computer for years and several years ago he readily agreed to send me for testing for PCOS although he didn’t feel that is what I had because I have 3 children.

Last year I had, I believe, two bladder infections and this year when I went for my annual check up on November 29th he found I had one again. (This is embarrassing!) I had no symptoms/pain though – maybe just frequent urination especially at night. As a result and because my mother had kidney cancer, he decided to send me for an ultra sound on my kidneys. My followup appointment was on December 22nd. He said my kidneys looked fine, however, there was an abnormality in my adrenal glands. I think he said they were swollen. He said they are not suspecting cancer and that is probably why I couldn’t lose weight, had high blood pressure, etc. He seemed pleased that finally there may be an explanation for my various symptoms. I must admit I did not tell him everything as I did not want to seem like a hypochondriac. My doctor ordered a CT Scan (appointment originally April 11th) and referred me to Urologist.

I had my appointment with him on January 14th and he rescheduled my CT Scan for January 28th. I recently completed lab work, i.e. 24-hour urine test, glucose, creatintine, uric acid, sodium, potassium, chloride, CBC (Hematology), urine test, serum Cortisol 8 a.m. test and a urine R4M (can’t read that writing too well). On February 15th I have a follow-up appointment with the Urologist. I have mixed feelings. In one way I am very happy at last that I am not “crazy” and something is wrong, however, I am frightened at what is ahead. Also, part of me wants to know everything and part of me wants to let things unfold a bit at a time. For the most part I do feel positive and feel that if it was cancer I would not have been having symptoms for at least 11 years. So I continue to read/research every night and have learned a lot from this board (have started to keep a journal) and am enjoying the humour as well. Sorry this is so long but it has been many years of various symptoms and frustrations. Thanks for reading my introduction and for sharing your knowledge and experiences.

JoAnn

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A New Newspaper Article on Jordy

April 18, 2017

MaryO Adrenal, Adrenal Surgery, Male, Pituitary, Pituitary Surgery, Success Stories, Treatments , , , , , , Leave a comment

 

Today’s article: Father-of-two, 42, who was scared of heights now skydives from 17,000ft with NO FEAR after surgeons removed his ADRENELIN gland

Mr Cernik suffers from ultra-rare Cushing’s syndrome which causes high levels of the hormone Cortisol – a steroid that regulates the metabolism and immune system.

In just three years, former Territorial Army recruit Mr Cernik, who is 5ft 8in tall, ballooned from 11st 5lb to almost 17st.

To treat the condition, Mr Cernik underwent a series of brain operations and two procedures to remove his adrenal glands, which also produce adrenalin….

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4418714/Father-two-42-no-fear-operation.html#ixzz4ebhHkMsI

Read more about Jordy.

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Brain tumour survivor draws comfort | Toronto Star

June 16, 2015

MaryO Adrenal, Adrenal Surgery, News Items, Pituitary, Pituitary Surgery, radiation, Treatments , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Erella Ganon has a brain tumour, and she wants everyone to know about it.

The 56-year-old woman has had brain surgery three times, had both of her adrenal glands removed and been through multiple bouts of radiation.

Ganon chronicles her health journey through a series of images in what she calls a “graphic autobiography.”

It’s a habit she got into as teenager. Every day she uses fountain pens to draw a picture of what she’s experiencing.

For the past decade those pictures have illustrated her battle with Cushing’s disease, a rare disorder that makes her pituitary gland release too much ATCH (adrenocorticotrophic hormone), stimulating the production of cortisol, a stress hormone, creating tumours.

Ganon shares her images on an online blog that in turn offers inspiration and comfort to others struggling with illness.

The hand-drawn pictures present an open and often humorous look at life with disease. The images are instantly relatable and depict everything from hair loss to hospital food.

“Everybody who’s touched by catastrophic disease… has a feeling of powerlessness, but the artwork and putting it out there is the opposite of that,” said Ganon.

via Brain tumour survivor draws comfort | Toronto Star.

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