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Margaret (Margaret), Pituitary Bio

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Originally from December 22, 2008

I have recently been diagnosised with Cushing disease.

I began having problems about 5 years ago with high blood pressure and weight gain medication brought blood pressure under control and diet pills helped me to lose a little weight.

Then just in 2008 started having stress fxs of feet for no reason bone densitiy test revealed osteopenia but with fxs osteoporsis. Blood pressure kept going higher but would not respond to more medicine. Started having kidney stones. Diagnosised with migraines/cluster headaches but mediciations not working very well, pain mainly on left side behide eye always. Had shingles. All this before I was 40. I always said “I am too young to be so old” now I know why. When blood pressure wouldn’t respond to meds I started investigating and asked PCP to do 24 free urine. I read her notes she put in there “patient thinks she has cushings” Well when first 24 free urine came back 141 range 3-50 She wouldn’t even talk to me just sent me straight to endocrinologist. He did cortisol total am (did it later than should cause of lab problem 10:30 am) it was still high 42.8 Second 24 free urine was 339 this time 1 mg dex suppression was 25.7 saliva was high too but hasn’t gotten numbers yet.

Waiting for MRI with contrast reults but 8 mg dex supp did suppress so we know it is pituitary.

It kinda has been a whirlwind cause first test was done in October 2008.

Oh did I mention the 60 lbs I put on in like 7 months!!!!!! I look 7 months pregnant!!! ANd fatigue I get sooo tired just cleaning house. I went to my GYN a few months ago and was told in a round about way that I was overweight and of course overweight people have less energy and excessive sweating. So she said eat less exercise more.

I am in touch with Dr Jane at UVA in Charlottesville VA and as soon as he reads reports, sees films etc he will schedule me for IPSS if needed and surgery.

I am scared and excited. Scared about what lies ahead the next year Excited that one day I may be “normal” again. Looking back at pictures from a few years ago makes me cry (something else I do more of lately) There are 2 different people then and now.

I am 41 years old now, married, mother to 3 girls (ages 14,9,and 8). I have a great job as a surgical tech doing just cataract surgery with 3 great doctors.

I am very scared and excited.

Blogger jackie m said…

my thoughts are with you margaret .I have had pit surgery and radiotherapy
it can be a long a drawn out process but keep positive jackie m from uk

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Diana B (Diana Brown), Undiagnosed Bio

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Hi, My name is Diana. I have been sick for over two years now.

I have had kidney stones for the last 2 1/2 years, constantly passing them and have had three surgeries related to that.I still have seven stones left in both kidneys total. I didn’t feel well after the second surgery, and never recovered from the third which was last August. I have been to 3 urologists, thinking it was a urological problem. They all told me it was not connected to my stone problem.

I have been to two nephrologists and two endocrinologists and a cardiologist along with my Primary Care. The second nephrologist told me he knew what my problem was, Cushing’s Syndrome. That was when I went to my second endocrinologist because my own endo wasn’t on the same page, however she did no further testing and at first told me she thought I was borderline cushing’s followed by a phone call telling me she didn’t think I had it.

I have an adrenal adenoma in my left adrenal gland.I am going to see Dr. Theodore Friedman next month.

Here are my symptoms:

Easily out of breath (don’t know what you call the meter the doctors use to measure your oxygen but my oxygen is low on that meter)

Recently diagnosed with pre diabetes with random high glucose readings but did not test positive for Diabetes with a Glucose Tolerance Test

Tachycardia (never had this before getting ill) that wakes me up in the middle of the night, this started after my third surgery

Extreme fatigue/ as tired when I get up as when I go to bed.

Muscle weakness with any exertion, especially going up stairs and most days just walking across the room

Pallor

low grade fever on and off

blood pressure that fluctuates between 97/67 to 136/84 was always low and has increased frequently

Rising cholesterol over the last couple of years with no change in diet

Right flank pain

Low back pain

Burning pain in upper buttocks and upper back thighs

Stomach and groin pain

Extreme hip pain

Shaky and fine tremor in hands and sometimes my head also shakes

Mildly elevated cortisol (24hr urine cortisol test)

Have been diagnosed with osteopenia in the past

Hashimoto’s

I break out with clammy/flushing skin sometimes during the day but mostly at night.

Cannot tolerate carbohydrates (not for many years) /have many food intolerances

Easy bruising

So, that’s pretty much it. Thank you for letting me join!

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Melissa F, Pituitary Bio

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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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Judi L (judi), Undiagnosed Bio

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I have been seeing the endo for the last couple of weeks.  Lots of blood tests, saliva test, 24 hour urine test.  Thyroid scan, with nodules, thyroid biopsy benign, small goiter,and diagnosed with hashimoto.

Currently type 2 diabetic fairly controlled with Victoza, but very insulin resistance.  First blood tests showed high cortisol, high ACTH, second series of blood tests showed normal to high cortisol and still high ACTH.  Doctor said possible cushings.  Have had extreme fatigue, beard on chin.  Muscle and bone pain consistently.  Wake up with headache and extreme fatigue.Bone scan diagnosed with osteopenia.  Appt. with endo tomorrow to get results of 24 hr. urine test.  Salavia test said was normal.

Have problems with sleep, sleep all day off and on, or have days when I cannot go to sleep at all.  She said that I had the hump, muffin top, and belly fat, lean arms and legs.  Eyes are puffy all the time now.  Have problems losing weight even though I eat healthy all the time, and have excluded gluten, sugar, and going to go diary free.  Eat lots of vegetables and fruit as well as a little protein.  Have not had a mri or cat scan yet.  Probably will be next on the list.  Will post after my doctor’s appt. tomorrow and update my bio.

I have a lot of symptoms of cushings and she mentioned this with my second doctors visit after the first series of blood test, but wanted to do other tests to make sure.

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