Butterfly Cauldron
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
But what does this mean?
There's an interesting article on the wire today about chronic pain.
Researchers believe proteins hold clues to chronic pain
By ROBERT PREIDT
HealthDay
Low blood levels of two anti-inflammatory proteins could be key to chronic pain, researchers report.
Low concentrations of two cytokines, IL-4 and IL-10, were found in patients with chronic widespread pain, according to a German study published in the August issue of Arthritis & Rheumatism.
Cytokines are proteins that act as messengers between cells.
The study included 40 patients who’d received intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) as a novel treatment for pain that hadn’t responded to standard therapy and another 15 patients who did not receive IVIG. The study also included a control group of 40 healthy people.
Blood samples were collected from all the study volunteers, and the pain patients were asked to rate their pain, fatigue, mood and cognitive function.
Okay, so it's good news that they think they're figuring out what causes chronic pain. Yay! However...what does this mean? I mean, I'm happy to know there's a protein in my body that's not doing it's thing. Cool. So, tell me how to fix it. Seriously, what do I do to up those proteins? What do I do to make that happen, because living in chronic pain is a bad, bad, bad thing.
The deal with chronic pain is that you get used to it. You get used to feeling draggy and tired and achy. It becomes normal, so you don't really notice it. Which is dangerous, because pain is your body's way of saying there's something wrong. So you run the risk of ignoring a serious warning sign, because you're so very used to being in pain.
That's why it took me years to find out I had an inflammed gallbladder. It hurt, yes. But everything hurts on me, so when one spot starts hurting more than others? Eh. It doesn't really register with me. I had gallbladder pain off and on for six damned years before we found out what it was. And the only reason I found out is that it started hurting daily, instead of once or twice a month. My surgeon said my gallbladder was getting to the dangerous stage and if I hadn't gotten it taken out when I did, it could have ruptured and then I'd have been in serious trouble.
It feels strange, being a chronic pain patient, because you go to the doctor so often. (BTW, I just got my latest round of tests back and I'm prefectly healthy. Well, you know, aside from the previously dxed conditions.) I worry sometimes that people think I'm a hypocondriac. I know I'm not, but it seems strange to be my age and be on so much medication/go to the doctor so very often. On one hand, I don't care what people think. But on the other...I'm only 31. This cannot be my life, ya know? Not for the next sixty or seventy years. (And I plan on living to be an old, old woman with many many cats and lots of books. I will have myself a little cabin on a mountain somewhere where it gets cool in the summer and cold in the winter. I will grow a flower garden filled with my favorite flowers, even if they don't match together. My garden will have no symblance of order, but everyone who sees it will know it's mine. I'll make pots of tea and sit on my front porch, reading. I'll give cookies to all the children in the neighborhood and everyone will know me as That Nice Old Lady With All the Cats. I will paint as much as I like, write as much as I like and generally do whatever the hell I want to do. And when I die, people will miss me and plant roses at my grave.)
So, anyway. I'm glad they're making progress, I just wanna know how that translates into the real world!
Researchers believe proteins hold clues to chronic pain
By ROBERT PREIDT
HealthDay
Low blood levels of two anti-inflammatory proteins could be key to chronic pain, researchers report.
Low concentrations of two cytokines, IL-4 and IL-10, were found in patients with chronic widespread pain, according to a German study published in the August issue of Arthritis & Rheumatism.
Cytokines are proteins that act as messengers between cells.
The study included 40 patients who’d received intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) as a novel treatment for pain that hadn’t responded to standard therapy and another 15 patients who did not receive IVIG. The study also included a control group of 40 healthy people.
Blood samples were collected from all the study volunteers, and the pain patients were asked to rate their pain, fatigue, mood and cognitive function.
Okay, so it's good news that they think they're figuring out what causes chronic pain. Yay! However...what does this mean? I mean, I'm happy to know there's a protein in my body that's not doing it's thing. Cool. So, tell me how to fix it. Seriously, what do I do to up those proteins? What do I do to make that happen, because living in chronic pain is a bad, bad, bad thing.
The deal with chronic pain is that you get used to it. You get used to feeling draggy and tired and achy. It becomes normal, so you don't really notice it. Which is dangerous, because pain is your body's way of saying there's something wrong. So you run the risk of ignoring a serious warning sign, because you're so very used to being in pain.
That's why it took me years to find out I had an inflammed gallbladder. It hurt, yes. But everything hurts on me, so when one spot starts hurting more than others? Eh. It doesn't really register with me. I had gallbladder pain off and on for six damned years before we found out what it was. And the only reason I found out is that it started hurting daily, instead of once or twice a month. My surgeon said my gallbladder was getting to the dangerous stage and if I hadn't gotten it taken out when I did, it could have ruptured and then I'd have been in serious trouble.
It feels strange, being a chronic pain patient, because you go to the doctor so often. (BTW, I just got my latest round of tests back and I'm prefectly healthy. Well, you know, aside from the previously dxed conditions.) I worry sometimes that people think I'm a hypocondriac. I know I'm not, but it seems strange to be my age and be on so much medication/go to the doctor so very often. On one hand, I don't care what people think. But on the other...I'm only 31. This cannot be my life, ya know? Not for the next sixty or seventy years. (And I plan on living to be an old, old woman with many many cats and lots of books. I will have myself a little cabin on a mountain somewhere where it gets cool in the summer and cold in the winter. I will grow a flower garden filled with my favorite flowers, even if they don't match together. My garden will have no symblance of order, but everyone who sees it will know it's mine. I'll make pots of tea and sit on my front porch, reading. I'll give cookies to all the children in the neighborhood and everyone will know me as That Nice Old Lady With All the Cats. I will paint as much as I like, write as much as I like and generally do whatever the hell I want to do. And when I die, people will miss me and plant roses at my grave.)
So, anyway. I'm glad they're making progress, I just wanna know how that translates into the real world!
Labels: disease, medication
Friday, March 10, 2006
My life is not a theory
I don't live in South Dakota or Mississippi or any of the other state currently trying to pass abortion bans. Thankfully, my state is too busy cleaning up after Katrina to worry about that at the moment, though I don't doubt they'll get around to it. But hundreds, if not thousands, of women like me live in those states. Pregnancy may not exactly endanger our lives but it would certainly imperil our health. So, we do our best to avoid it. We use multiple levels of birth control, we practice strict monogamy with partners we truly trust, we abstain when we feel that's our best option. We are not irresponsible women. We are not thoughtless, child-like beings who cannot understand that one of the possible outcomes of sex is pregnancy. We understand that, we simply wish to avoid it. So, we do all that we can to do so.
And sometimes, that's not enough. Sometimes, we get pregnant anyway. If we're lucky, we have supportive partners who will stand by us and help us deal with that -- regardless of the decision we make. Some of us will choose to brave the odds and continue our pregancies. And some of those pregnancies will result in healthy babies, healthy mothers. Some will result in healthy babies, dead mothers. Or healthy babies, damaged mothers. Or dead baby, dead mother. Or some combination thereof. But so long as it's a choice made by the woman who is pregnant, to risk her life or not, it's a choice that should be honored and respected. It's not a choice that should be forced on any woman.
We are not abstractions. We are not some percentage of all abortions performed. We are not a percentage of all pregnancies. We are real, live women. We have families. We have friends. We have people who love us, whom we love. We have roots and connections in this world. The loss of a single one of us has ripples that no law can foresee or legislate. Yes, anti-choice people will say, but what about the baby? What if you're aborting the next Einstein or the person who grows up to cure the very disease you're sick with? To that I say: What if the woman you're killing/maiming IS the next Einstein or the woman who will cure this disease? Why do they always assume that the people who are already here are incapable of greatness? Why is it always someone not born yet who will save the world? Have they so little faith in those of us in the here and now that they can't imagine we're capable of saving ourselves? Or is it just because we're women and women can't do those sorts of things? Also, if we're going to get into the 'What if' game, what if the fetus that's aborted was the next Hitler? What if it was the next Stalin? That game is a dead end. The fact is, you don't know. You can't know and it's pointless to speculate.
They also show a remarkable lack of faith in the God (most of them) claim to believe in. If god is so powerful and all-knowing, why would he put a soul in a fetus he knew was going to be aborted? Why would he allow the next Einstein to be created, knowing s/he would never be born? That doesn't say much for god.
I'm sick to death of being treated like a Thing. I am not a Thing. I am a Person. I am a Human Being. A Woman, specifically. I am not some number on a page, not some compilation of medical records that a judge gets to look at and decide if I'm sick enough to warrant terminating a pregnancy that's threatening to rob me of bodily function but not quite my life. This is MY life, I get to decide if the risks are worth it. I get to decide if having a child is important enough for me to risk liver failure, or kidney failure, or stroke, or heart attack, or permanent muscle or joint damage. I do. Not the state, not a bunch of men in Washington, not anyone else. Me. If you think you can take that right away from me, and all the other women (not theories!) in this country, you're in for a rude awakening. Women are not theories and it's time people were reminded of that.
And sometimes, that's not enough. Sometimes, we get pregnant anyway. If we're lucky, we have supportive partners who will stand by us and help us deal with that -- regardless of the decision we make. Some of us will choose to brave the odds and continue our pregancies. And some of those pregnancies will result in healthy babies, healthy mothers. Some will result in healthy babies, dead mothers. Or healthy babies, damaged mothers. Or dead baby, dead mother. Or some combination thereof. But so long as it's a choice made by the woman who is pregnant, to risk her life or not, it's a choice that should be honored and respected. It's not a choice that should be forced on any woman.
We are not abstractions. We are not some percentage of all abortions performed. We are not a percentage of all pregnancies. We are real, live women. We have families. We have friends. We have people who love us, whom we love. We have roots and connections in this world. The loss of a single one of us has ripples that no law can foresee or legislate. Yes, anti-choice people will say, but what about the baby? What if you're aborting the next Einstein or the person who grows up to cure the very disease you're sick with? To that I say: What if the woman you're killing/maiming IS the next Einstein or the woman who will cure this disease? Why do they always assume that the people who are already here are incapable of greatness? Why is it always someone not born yet who will save the world? Have they so little faith in those of us in the here and now that they can't imagine we're capable of saving ourselves? Or is it just because we're women and women can't do those sorts of things? Also, if we're going to get into the 'What if' game, what if the fetus that's aborted was the next Hitler? What if it was the next Stalin? That game is a dead end. The fact is, you don't know. You can't know and it's pointless to speculate.
They also show a remarkable lack of faith in the God (most of them) claim to believe in. If god is so powerful and all-knowing, why would he put a soul in a fetus he knew was going to be aborted? Why would he allow the next Einstein to be created, knowing s/he would never be born? That doesn't say much for god.
I'm sick to death of being treated like a Thing. I am not a Thing. I am a Person. I am a Human Being. A Woman, specifically. I am not some number on a page, not some compilation of medical records that a judge gets to look at and decide if I'm sick enough to warrant terminating a pregnancy that's threatening to rob me of bodily function but not quite my life. This is MY life, I get to decide if the risks are worth it. I get to decide if having a child is important enough for me to risk liver failure, or kidney failure, or stroke, or heart attack, or permanent muscle or joint damage. I do. Not the state, not a bunch of men in Washington, not anyone else. Me. If you think you can take that right away from me, and all the other women (not theories!) in this country, you're in for a rude awakening. Women are not theories and it's time people were reminded of that.
Labels: abortion, birth control, disease, feminism
