Friday, January 3, 2014

i love my go-to-guy

my eyes are almost swollen shut from self-pity, since my self-pity, combined with my rising fever and 9.9 out of 10 ranking on the retarded pain scale, equate to nonsensical tears but my mind is relatively unburdened, thanks to an hour and a half spent with dear, sweet, smart, inventive, superior go-to-guy, my "concierge" doctor that you'll have to shoot me to give up.  yes, i am poor -- and advocate living within one's means -- but i have budgeted for what i consider a compelling necessity, a medical gate-keeper.

anyway, his eyes lit up as he hit on an idea of how to work our peculiar situation and magic with the HMO i am now enrolled in, and with which he is not affiliated.  but the flat fee that i pay each year to "retain" him, well, it retains him.  in dire circumstances, and we are familiar with them, having him around... pays off.

anyway, we went over blood work, we devised a plan to so mesmerize the HMO and the physician i will have to choose in their network, and then...

we decided it was time for me to have a hospital bed with a trapeze. that will make things easier for me, but is one of those moments, you know?  the "oh, yeah, i am ready for disease and disability to reduce me a bit farther." reduce me, constrict me... also, though, on that sliver of pragmatism to which i cling -- it's a change that won't reduce me to tears when i think of how to turn over or sit up or, the ultimate!  when i think of how to both sit up, pivot so as to sit on the side of the bed, then stand and walk to the bathroom.

i went to my doctor's appointment without having brushed my teeth, much less showering.  that caused mucho boo-hooing on my part.  i am nothing if not ridiculous.

it's going to take a while to get the new doctors on board ("you realize they are going to take one look at your history and my summary of the last few years, and either take off running, screaming, or try to reinvent the wheel by ordering every test under the sun, don't you?") and so it will take a while before my carefully put together bedroom gets torn apart.  captain haddock is going to have a cow.  marlinspike hall's beautiful and antiquated décor -- and by "antiquated,"  i mean full of gorgeous and one-of-a-kind antiquities -- has never been so abused.  maybe the haddock corporation will see this as the last straw and put me and my belongings in a pile by the barn, just beyond the moat, and the reach of the drawbridge.  maybe the carnie rehab facility, right now mostly limited to cirque du soleil and local freak show addicts of the finest and most acrobatic kind... will take me in.  i could be a kind of barn mother hen.  and heck, who knows what monumental one-of-a-kind gymnastic moves i can come up with when provided with a hospital bed and a trapeze? eh?

see?  it's all rather too much to take in.

so we're cooking a chicken pizza, and plan on watching something mindless. dr. phil, or one of the multitude of law and orders.  maybe a cold case, or judge judy.

go-to-guy also rapidly and kindly filled out my POLST form, so i am covered -- live and let die!

my mind is jiggling like jello.





© 2013 L. Ryan

Thursday, January 2, 2014

"Cure RSD / CRPS" and Wave the Sage...

This is a low period for me, and for Fred, who is apparently worn out by me and my penchant for self-pity. This I know because last night, after telling him I felt, and please excuse my language, "like a worthless piece of shit," he turned away and said, scoffingly, "pity, pity, pity."

It was the second day in a row that I could not walk, not even from bed to bathroom, without several stops along the way (meaning every 3-5 feet) and a couple of "Hail Mary" grabs at furniture to remain upright.  The pain has been indescribable.  The depression -- describable, as mentioned above, but apparently something I'm not allowed to mention.

The only reason I have not committed suicide is my duty to Fred to leave him enough money that he will survive "in the manner to which he has become accustomed" -- almost drowning in poverty, but not quite.
As soon as I hit the mark, I'm gone.

This morning, I woke screaming.  After sublimating the natural reaction to this level of pain, I did the coffee thing, the care-for-the-animals thing, then the special-care-for-the-animals thing -- known as Dobby Time. Then I managed to get my legs back in the bed, struggled to sit upright, grabbed the computer, and checked to see if my new ACA Marketplace Health Insurance company had responded to my frantic emails.  Nope.

But YouTube notified me of a message from someone, so I surfed in that direction.  It involved a pitch for a CRPS cure, about which I could get the bare-boned information if I paid him $349 for his personal years of research into the disease, and the one (I think he says "one," but maybe it was "several.") research article available about the "cure" he found, and that the rest of the world has been ignoring.

People have become angry with me for reacting with skepticism to the cures they offer.  The group of doctors who wanted me to give myself Ketamine intravenously, at home, unmonitored, for $50 a week.  I could pretty much pick the dosage.  The pain management doctor who wanted to have "some ladies from my church" wrap me in herbs and bandages, and prayer.  The player of the singing crystal bowl who induced bronchospasm with all the sage bundles she burned over me.  The many nurse practitioners of Healing Touch.

Also worth mentioning are the times I was angry at being led along, or not meeting the criteria for treatment. Various clinical trials, a couple that I might have tried but was told by one of my doctors that he'd not treat me any longer if I did.  Implantable devices that I cannot try because of my history of chronic bone infection at sites of implanted prostheses. (Thanks very much, St. Joseph's Hospital of Atlanta and Doctors Eric Carson, Steven Sween, Leslie Kelman, and the nurses in the ICU in May of 2002)

So this morning, I just cannot handle another "gimme, gimme, trust me, trust me..." routine.  Here is the video, for those of you willing to (or desperate enough to) pay for information that is apparently readily available, but which we have all managed to overlook.

I managed a short nap after coffee (an idiosyncratic reaction?) and dreamed, once again, of being trapped in the elevator in one of the medical office buildings at SJHA with the aforementioned unethical Doctor Gods, an elevator that left me gasping because it was filled with the smoke of a sage bundle, and rushing to exit the cage of the elevator as soon as that prison slowed to stop at a floor, any floor, be it the entrance to Hell itself.

So, um, clearly I have issues.  Those doctors represent fraudulent medical treatment, more aptly put as "failure to diagnose and failure to treat," threats (very specific threats), improper treatment, bullying, lying, failure to report a Sentinel Event, and the ruination of my life.  I write that confident that the sentence is completely true and actually soft-peddles their roles in the reality of the first few years I had CRPS. The sage, my inability to breathe or speak?  That represents what I know now was my stupidity and extreme gullibility.  It represents the loss of my life's work as an educator, and the steady pay check with benefits that I enjoyed.

Sage smudging, from Estrella Magick


That ought to provide enough grains of salt for you to wade though... You're welcome.  Excuse the self-pity. Excuse the desire to OD on insulin, fentanyl, methadone, percocet, tizanidine.  Also, kindly overlook my catchy theme song of "Shoot me in the head / Shoot me in the head / Shoot me in the head / I'd be better off dead."  As Dylan said, "I'm a poet /  I know it /  Hope I don't blow it." At least, I *think* that's what he said. He's actually declined in my estimation as I've aged -- I tire of guessing who he wants me to guess him to be this year.  After spending so much time figuring out whom I am, I care less and less about his personas.

Love the music, though.

So here is Cure RSD / CRPS and his video, followed by the details he provided on YouTube, both uploaded yesterday.




Published on Jan 1, 2014In this video, I discuss a cure for RSD / CRPS (not Ketamine!) and my 13 years of chronic pain with the illness during which I saw over 100 doctors and "experts" who knew next to nothing and tried dozens of medications. I suffered from a case described by doctors as "extreme and severe". Finally, after months of desperate research I found the treatment which helps most of the people treated. It is not a crazy-go-it-alone therapy, but is documented in several studies and is carried out at most rheumatological university clinics in one western industrialized nation to cure this disease which by any standard for CRPS are high success rates -- but very, very few sufferers or doctors know about it. Stop taking pills for the pain. Try to get CURED. Watch this video to find out more and how you can get more information on this and possibly end your suffering and/or the suffering of someone you love. Until I have assembled a full information package and posted it for download, for more information, send an email to exoskeleton@gmx.de and title it, "RSD Cure". Please be prepared to make a $349 donation to my PayPal account to cover 13 years of my research into the problem of CRPS. We can also make arrangements for payment of $699 IF you feel the treatment helps you significantly after the fact. The total cost of the treatments at the university clinic were about $1100 - $2300. The treatments take about a week to carry out. A bed and breakfast in the area can be arranged 800 meters from the hospital for about $50 to $65 per night. If you are new to CRPS, this information will help lead you through the maze of information out there and give you proven good odds of returning to your old life with the most thoroughly studied but least well known treatment out there. This will get you a summary of the treatment options, history of the treatment, the info on the most recent study with the improved treatment method which now shows close to an unbelievable 100% double-blind, placebo controlled success rate, where to get it, even email addresses for doctors who perform the treatment, and two locations in Europe which do it. You will also get a list of links for the studies and information you need. I will be happy to have a short personal discussion with you about the problem and the treatment. One of my very good friends with the same disease has seen my rapid improvement, read the studies I collected, and he has already contacted the university I went to and bed and breakfast I stayed at and will soon be going for his own treatment at the hands of the same highly competent doctors who treated me. I am sure in 2 months he will be much, much better. Note: because of copyright laws, I cannot give you the actual studies, but I can give you their full names and tell you where to find them with links in the internet.








Tuesday, December 31, 2013

A Poem for a New Year, Again. Once More. Encore Une Fois.





















a Praise Song for the Day

Courtesy of the Academy for American Poets



A Poem for Barack Obama's [first] Presidential Inauguration
by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other's
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues. 

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum, 
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what's on the other side.

I know there's something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
 
Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, 

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign, 
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

2014 was interesting, and we are grateful for having laughed and cried, screamed and muttered our way through it. You know how much I love my two brothers, TW and Grader "The Lumpy" Boob? Both imminently, eminently brilliant (and shiny, too, almost prismatic!), they both snicker and snort at pretty much the same things, in pretty much the same snick-and-snort style. Grader "The Lumpy" Boob, however, in a fit that combined what sounded like a combination of a cough, a hearty spit, a collegiate snick, and a lifelong snuffled snort












January 20, 2009.  President Obama's First Inauguration.



For information on Elizabeth Alexander, click HERE.

Monday, December 30, 2013

pure, unadulterated, worth-a-cry sappy!

sap·py
ˈsapē/
adjective
  1. 1.
    informal
    excessively sentimental; mawkish.
  2. 2.
    (of a plant) containing a lot of sap.

hi, i'm in tremendous pain, nearly caving in to the claim of 9.9/10 on the idiot pain scale.

and constantly beginning, relearning my mindfulness lessons.  restarting relearning in three, two, one...

here is a portion of an entry by a CaringBridge child's mother about her son, whose prognosis is quite poor but whose attitude is awe-inspiring, but not the over-glucosed, rainbowed cotton-candy kind.  he's quite real, which makes that attitude ever more... mindful.

[i "adopt" 4 CaringBridge kids at a time, supposedly.  in actuality, i'm at 8 young ones, each a translation by their journal keeper.  most journal keepers are the mothers, and most are inspirational, themselves.  still, out of respect for the child, i sometimes read through, between, and under the lines to find him or her, and, as you have seen and shortly will again, i read photographs.]

the entry, with identities modified:

The journal picture I've included is of A and his two little brothers, ages 5 and 8.  After A finished chemo (before he spiked a fever), he had to make the long walk over to the cardiology clinic in order to get an echo and ekg.  Neither one of us wanted to make that walk for exams that were needed to close out the LEE011 study for A.  It was just salt in an already open wound.  By the time A finished the heart exams, he was feeling awful.  I asked him to let me hunt down a wheelchair (he had to go back to the oncology clinic to finish fluids) as his 5 year old brother grabbed his IV pole while his 8 year old brother offered to hold his hand.  I don't think I'll ever forget hearing A ask his 8 year old brother, "Hey Bro, can I put my arm around you to help me walk?"  A didn't wait for a wheelchair.  Instead, he slowly walked from one end of the hospital to the other with the help of two brothers who so tenderly love him.

and here is the photo she used to top her journal entry:



the journal keeper readily admits she's a pessimistic realist with a corrective heavenly guiding hand -- quite a combination, and one that i recognize.  i will admit with equal readiness that i would not trade places with her or with A, nor with A's two brothers.

however, she (and i) are working on our attitudes, sometimes with that corrective guidance, sometimes with simple mindfulness -- just sit in it and be -- -- -- -- and so it was that one of the most (personally) beautiful photos i've ever seen was snapped by daisy love merrick's mother, before her last relapse. i bet that was one sassy, swishy walk.  when renaming the photo to match my recollection patterns, i chose "daisy walks away in peace." and so she did.

okay, you tough ones.  you know who you are.  you think you are impervious to my sap, my sappiness. well, friend, gird your loins... because i know for a bona fide fact that daisy love merrick walks this earth, complete with her funky, hippy clothes, and her sassy, swishy walk, and her unique grin (involves the meteoric impact of freckles), as well as her always-remembered mother, father, and sweet brother, and scads of surfing fanatics. but she does not walk alone -- and not with wraith-like holograms of her loved ones -- no!  she walks with treebeard, the eldest of the ent species.  put that in your sap pipe and smoke it.

harrumph.




hat tip to treebeard:


sap·py
ˈsapē/
adjective
  1. 1.
    informal
    excessively sentimental; mawkish.
  2. 2.
    (of a plant) containing a lot of sap.



© 2013 L. Ryan

Thursday, December 26, 2013

"Do not be afraid!"

The Vatican's official English-language translation of Pope Francis' prepared homily, delivered in Italian, during Christmas Eve Mass Tuesday in St. Peter's Basilica.

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light"(Is 9:1).

This prophecy of Isaiah never ceases to touch us, especially when we hear it proclaimed in the liturgy of Christmas Night. This is not simply an emotional or sentimental matter. It moves us because it states the deep reality of what we are: a people who walk, and all around us - and within us as well - there is darkness and light. In this night, as the spirit of darkness enfolds the world, there takes place anew the event which always amazes and surprises us: the people who walk see a great light. A light which makes us reflect on this mystery: the mystery of walking and seeing.

Walking. This verb makes us reflect on the course of history, that long journey which is the history of salvation, starting with Abraham, our father in faith, whom the Lord called one day to set out, to go forth from his country towards the land which he would show him. From that time on, our identity as believers has been that of a people making its pilgrim way towards the promised land. This history has always been accompanied by the Lord! He is ever faithful to his covenant and to his promises. "God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 Jn 1:5). Yet on the part of the people there are times of both light and darkness, fidelity and infidelity, obedience, and rebellion; times of being a pilgrim people and times of being a people adrift.

In our personal history too, there are both bright and dark moments, lights and shadows. If we love God and our brothers and sisters, we walk in the light; but if our heart is closed, if we are dominated by pride, deceit, self-seeking, then darkness falls within us and around us. "Whoever hates his brother - writes the Apostle John - is in the darkness; he walks in the darkness, and does not know the way to go, because the darkness has blinded his eyes" (1 Jn 2:11).

2. On this night, like a burst of brilliant light, there rings out the proclamation of the Apostle: "God's grace has been revealed, and it has made salvation possible for the whole human race" (Tit 2:11).

The grace which was revealed in our world is Jesus, born of the Virgin Mary, true man and true God. He has entered our history; he has shared our journey. He came to free us from darkness and to grant us light. In him was revealed the grace, the mercy, and the tender love of the Father: Jesus is Love incarnate. He is not simply a teacher of wisdom, he is not an ideal for which we strive while knowing that we are hopelessly distant from it. He is the meaning of life and history, who has pitched his tent in our midst.

3. The shepherds were the first to see this "tent", to receive the news of Jesus' birth. They were the first because they were among the last, the outcast. And they were the first because they were awake, keeping watch in the night, guarding their flocks. Together with them, let us pause before the Child, let us pause in silence. Together with them, let us thank the Lord for having given Jesus to us, and with them let us raise from the depths of our hearts the praises of his fidelity: We bless you, Lord God most high, who lowered yourself for our sake. You are immense, and you made yourself small; you are rich and you made yourself poor; you are all-powerful and you made yourself vulnerable.

On this night let us share the joy of the Gospel: God loves us, he so loves us that he gave us his Son to be our brother, to be light in our darkness. To us the Lord repeats: "Do not be afraid!" (Lk 2:10). And I too repeat: Do not be afraid! Our Father is patient, he loves us, he gives us Jesus to guide us on the way which leads to the promised land. Jesus is the light who brightens the darkness. He is our peace. Amen.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Henri, le chat existentialiste, nous explique tout...



Henri 5, "The Worst Noël" -- uploaded to YouTube by Henri le Chat Noir



Un cadeau du sein des coeurs de nos amis Marmy FluffyButt, Buddy (grand chaton scandaleux), et 

Dobby, celui qui n'est comparable qu'à soi.










*h/t to Fred, upon whom all things darkly existential descend.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

News Flash! Fred Has Extra Large Brain But NO Acoustic Neuroma!

Are you seated?  This post contains nothing but the best of news.

First, that which was already assumed to be true has now been confirmed by scientific evidence.  Fred's skull contains the largest and most active neural network ever documented, such that it is beyond the linguistic limits of the definition for "brain."  Therefore, all those arguments I so egotistically placed in my Win Column were Pity Wins.

I am appropriately awed, and retroactively chastised.

Second, and an occasion for bubbly, if ever there was one:  Fred had his MRI this afternoon and was told but a few hours later that nothing showed in or between his fleshy ears except the aforementioned surplus of smarts.

Relieved not to have a brain tumor that favors the brain stem, Fred is still facing the unexplained loss of hearing in his right ear and the acquisition of annoying noise in lieu of my soothing dulcet tones.  It's a hard blow for a dedicated audiophile and student of several musical instruments.

Even so, as I'm fond of watching him snorkel his way around the moat during the daily algae inspection, while I sip my coffee from the drier climes of the drawbridge, I am here to help him deal with hearing loss, but so much happier a helpmate than if he were facing brain surgery and facial nerve paralysis.

Thanks so very much to those of you who have kept Fred in mind and prayer.






© 2013 L. Ryan

Monday, December 16, 2013

My Hero Hannah Needs Your Help

Please excuse this unusually terse entry -- more on that in the next terse post -- but time is of the essence!
[If you don't recall Hannah, click on her bolded, underlined, and capitalized name just below this, my favorite photo of her, called "Hannah's Crane."]



HANNAH is my hero because:


  • she faced osteosarcoma like a mentally seasoned champion, not a young, untested girly-girl
  • with her family, she chose a relatively new option for the surgical removal of the tumor in her leg -- rotationplasty
  • she faced recovery and rehab from the rotationplasty with courage and a grand work ethic
  • part of the therapy for osteosarcoma, as for most cancers, involved radiation and chemotherapy, and these things, too, she struggled through with beautiful style (as beautiful as one can be whilst throwing up)
  • just when all seemed well, hannah developed one of the side effects of her chemotherapy -- leukemia (and if that isn't a kick in the stomach, what is?)
  • as if that were not enough, the osteosarcoma reared its ugly head again, traveling to her lung, and she underwent surgery to remove that cancerous nodule.
  • she undertook this challenge as she did all the others, in beauty and ferocity
  • but still, she needed a bone marrow transplant to defeat the leukemia, a truly arduous and scary procedure
  • now post-transplant, she and her family live with the fear of rejection syndrome and further spread of the osteosarcoma, so every symptom that you or i might consider trivial, they must treat as potentially life-threatening and make a run to the doctor or ER...
  • and they do all these things with grace, humor, and the requisite NEGU attitude (Never Ever Give Up)


I think you get the gist of it, yes?  She is doing well but the struggle is not over, and while she became my hero when I read about her choice of the rotationplasty at the beginning of her journey, I imagine that as she grows, in emotional and physical age, that choice will provide her with some challenges as well as its many benefits.  But that's ME talking and projecting my weaknesses onto Hannah.  Excuse me!

Her mom posted this request today and I hope as many of my bazillion readers as can will place an order to help them out with the medical bills and the bills of daily living that have had to be pushed aside for two years.  Shoot, I will project one of my major pet peeves onto the Smith family: parking fees! Never mind the cost of all the traveling they've had to do for treatment, just think of the darned parking fees at all those hospitals, doctors' offices, and "medical buildings."  I may hold a fundraiser for myself one day, just for parking fees...

Oops.  Train of thought, off the tracks once again.

Here is Hannah's Mom's message:


12-16-13
1 hour ago
Hannah has designed a T-shirt that is on her favorite color. It is a fundraiser and we need your help. You only have until Thursday to pre-order. $15 each and will be shipped 2 weeks after the end of the last order date. Our goal is 150 shirts but we only have 89 ordered so far. Can you help? Here's the link:

https://www.booster.com/hannahsmith?share=6511387163898591


Thank you for your help! 

© 2013 L. Ryan

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Inside Edition Airs Two CRPS Videos

*hmmm. i am not sure why the two Inside Edition vids begin playing automatically.  my apologies for the onslaught of sudden noise.  perhaps {she prays} the problem will just disappear.  [this is why i had to abort my career as a Life Coach.]
*well, i got so fed up finally that i replaced the vids with links TO the vids.  apologies (again) for the inconvenience.

They're simplistic by necessity -- how to explain CRPS in roughly three minutes -- but a good introduction.  I am awed by the woman who gets relief from people rubbing her leg, with a rough looking blanket, no less, but beyond that, it's a fair depiction.  How I wish, though, that those of us with CRPS did not sound so certifiably insane in our verbal attempts to share what its pain is like!  The python reference was a new one for me.

I have trimmed down my answer (in non-blog life) to:  "The pain is constant and severe. It varies from burning to stabbing to throbbing.  If accompanied by spasms, it is intolerable."

In between the two Inside Edition videos, I've inserted one of my own old "standards." It's about 2.5 years old, and things aren't better, so use your vivid imagination -- in technicolor! I WISH I had the "problem" of people thinking there is nothing wrong with me.  My problem is that when strangers, even medicos, see my feet or legs for the first time, they offer to drive me to the Emergency Room.  Seriously!  My first visit to my shoulder orthopedic surgeon, his nurse kept saying:  "But, sweetie, we can't even look at your shoulder until you go get that foot treated!  Were y'all in a wreck on the way here?" She now doesn't even flinch.


Doctor Explains Mysterious CRPS Condition






Mysterious CRPS Condition Hits Home For Inside Edition Reporter

Monday, December 2, 2013

RSDSA: supporting the CRPS community

hi, beloved readers!  this is a hijacked ealert from the inimitable jim broatch of RSDSA.  CRPS is devastating, in so many ways.  there are the physical symptoms, and with years of intense, unrelenting pain come depression and anxiety.  friends and family tend to disappear.  the patient grows more disabled, less mobile, and is isolated.  financial ruin almost seems like another -- often ignored -- impact of CRPS.

consider giving someone in severe pain and struggling mightily a hand this year.  

good on ya!



RSDSA with Mission 

Dear Beloved Readers of elle est belle la seine la seine elle est belle:

This year on Tuesday, December 3, 2013, RSDSA is part of a call to action that will change the calendar and help make history. We are celebrating a day dedicated to giving - when charities, families, businesses, community centers, students, retailers, and more will come together for #GivingTuesday - a movement to celebrate giving and encourage more, better and smarter giving during the Holiday Season that we are proud to be a part of.

#GivingTuesday will create a day of giving around the annual shopping and spending season. Tomorrow is our "opening day." Starting December 3, we invite you to be part of this celebration. #GivingTuesday will show how the world can do much more with our wallets than just consume.

Please visit us at http://www.rsds.org/donate.html and consider celebrating this Holiday Season with a gift to The Patient Assistance Fund In Honor of Brad Jenkins and help those in need. When you donate please specify that the donation is for the Patient Assistance Fund in Honor of Brad Jenkins.

Many people with CRPS are unable to afford basic medical needs. Since its inception, the Patient Assistance Fund, has helped needy individuals with CRPS in various ways. Some examples include:
  • Adaptive controls for a motor vehicle  
  • Travel and lodging costs for individuals to consult with out-of-state pain specialists
  • Phone consultations with a pain psychologist for individuals with CRPS whose insurance refused to pay
  • Four visits at a reduced fee with a pain specialist for an individual without insurance 
CRPS can be financially devastating. Many people with CRPS lose their jobs and health insurance. Paying for medication, treatments, medical equipment and doctor's visits can be impossible. RSDSA intends to dramatically increase the Patient Assistance Fund to help many more individuals who have suffered financial devastation because they developed CRPS. 

With your help, we can provide larger grants to those in need - to adapt a home to make it easier and safer for a wheelchair bound person to get around, or to provide durable medical equipment, such as wheelchairs, scooters, walkers, and other adaptive devices. 

Our ultimate goal is to be able to work with local government and community programs to provide all those who suffer with CRPS the assistance they need when they need it.    

THEIR NEED IS GREAT AND OUR FUND IS SMALL!
Please help RSDSA make a huge difference in the lives of people with
CRPS by making a tax-deductible donation today.
http://www.rsds.org/donate.html


 RSDSA-New
Be sure to visit the RSDSA website for the latest CRPS/RSD information including new treatment options, valuable resources, upcoming events, and Support Group in your area.
Click Here to Visit Now!

Friday, November 29, 2013

CRPS: Inflammatory, Neuropathic and Immunologic?




Toronto—Researchers tasked with developing a rudimentary understanding of complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) are dividing their attention in several different directions. According to several experts who spoke at the 2013 International Congress on Neuropathic Pain, there is evidence for inflammatory, neuropathic and immunologic roots to the enigmatic syndrome, and further investigation into these three aspects of the syndrome is necessary for the development of more effective treatments.

“These different contributing factors all influence each other, so we need to address all of them so that patients don’t get onto a downward spiral where each factor worsens another,” Anne Louise Oaklander, MD, PhD, associate neurologist at Massachusetts General Hospital and associate professor at Harvard Medical School, both in Boston, told Pain Medicine News after attending the panel discussion.

Not a Perfect Fit
Ralf Baron, MD, vice chair of the Department of Neurology and head of the Division of Neurological Pain Research and Therapy at the University Hospital Schleswig-Holstein in Kiel, Germany, told attendees that until recently, CRPS was understood to be clearly a neuropathic pain disorder. However, CRPS does not fit with the 2008 redefinition of neuropathic pain, defined as “pain arising as a direct consequence of a lesion or disease affecting the somatosensory system” (Neurology 2008;70:1630-1635).

“CRPS is neuropathic in that there are characteristic neuropathic sensory abnormalities, but it also shows signs of central sensitization, inflammation, and autonomic and motor abnormalities,” Dr. Baron told attendees.

One way of grouping CRPS patients is by looking at their distinct somatosensory dysfunctions, Dr. Baron suggested. Individuals with deficits in temperature detection but no allodynia, and with loss of small nerve fibers, innervation and nerve degeneration, can be classified as having a neuropathic disorder. A second cluster of patients can be seen as having central sensitization, with normal temperature sensitivity but severe mechanical and thermal hyperalgesia. A third patient cluster may have inflammatory CRPS, with deep hyperalgesia and heat hyperalgesia but no hyperalgesia to prick testing, Dr. Baron explained.

An Autoimmune Disease?
Another way of understanding CRPS, proposed by Andreas Goebel, MD, PhD, senior lecturer and honorary consultant at the University of Liverpool and Walton Centre National Health Service Foundation Trust in Liverpool, United Kingdom, is that a subset of CRPS patients have an autoimmune disorder–related condition.

“It is possible that a regional immune response is triggered following stress, inflammation and trauma,” he posited.

Dr. Goebel believes some of the 15% of CRPS patients with refractory symptoms lasting longer than six to 12 months may fall into this group (Pain 2009;142:218-224). He noted that several studies support the autoimmune paradigm, with results showing that a subset of CRPS patients have elevated levels of serum antibodies to several bacterial pathogens.

“Furthermore, there is evidence for CRPS serum immunoglobulin binding to peripheral nerves,” he said (Neurology 2004;9:1734-1736).

Indeed, several small case series, including his own, have demonstrated the efficacy of intravenous immunoglobulin G (IgG) in subsets of patients with long-standing, refractory CRPS, Dr. Goebel said (Pain Med 2002;3:119-127). Additionally, a randomized controlled trial of 12 patients with long-standing CRPS who received the agent found that 25% had pain relief at least 50% relative to baseline and 17% had improvements in pain between 30% and 50% (Ann Intern Med 2010;152:152-158).

Although IgG has anti-inflammatory effects in addition to being an immunomodulator, Dr. Goebel believes IgG’s efficacy is likely not explained by its anti-inflammatory effect.

“All of the investigations which we have done, both in the lab and clinically, have been leaning more and more toward confirming there is an autoimmune aspect to CRPS,” Dr. Goebel concluded. “However, since we do not know which structures the autoimmune response is targeting, our current evidence remains somewhat indirect.”

According to Dr. Goebel, if some patients in fact have CRPS of autoimmune origin, “a range of potential therapies, such as therapeutic plasma exchange and B-cell modulating therapies, can be at our disposal.

“These have all been tried and tested in other autoimmune disorders, and we can have access to an armamentarium that we did not have before,” he said.

An “Ultralocal” Inflammatory Response?
Frank Huygen, MD, PhD, professor of anesthesiology at Erasmus Medical Center in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, argued the inflammatory component to CRPS could be the most clinically meaningful element of the syndrome in some patients. However, rather than looking for systemic inflammation, he believes researchers need to consider an “ultra-local” inflammatory response.

“There are inflammatory mediators that are increased in the blister fluid of an involved extremity in CRPS,” Dr. Huygen said.

His own research has documented increased levels of interleukin-6 and tumor necrosis factor (TNF)-alpha in some patients (Eur J Pain 2008;12:716-721).

In a small, placebo-controlled, randomized trial, Dr. Huygen and his colleagues showed that the anti-TNF drug infliximab (Remicade, Janssen) exacerbated symptoms in some CRPS patients, leading to discontinuation of the trial (Pain Pract 2013; May 22: doi: 10.1111/papr.12078). The researcher still believes there could be a role for infliximab and other biologics in the treatment of CRPS.

“Although the sponsor stopped the study early, preliminary data showed enormous reductions in TNF-alpha levels in blister fluid with infliximab treatment, but these did not correlate with clinical changes,” he said.

Summarizing the challenge of understanding and treating a complex syndrome, Dr. Baron suggested CRPS should no longer be seen monolithically as a neuropathic disorder.

“As long as we do not have a clearer pathophysiological picture of CRPS patients, and because of the obvious heterogeneity of the signs, symptoms and mechanisms of the syndrome,” he said, “it would be wise to look at the condition separately from other classical neuropathic pain syndromes.”
—David Wild

Thursday, November 28, 2013

THE SUPPRESSED SPEECH OF WAMSUTTA (FRANK B.) JAMES, WAMPANOAG




To have been delivered at Plymouth, Massachusetts, 1970
ABOUT THE DOCUMENT:
Three hundred fifty years after the Pilgrims began their invasion of the land of the Wampanoag, their "American" descendants planned an anniversary celebration. Still clinging to the white schoolbook myth of friendly relations between their forefathers and the Wampanoag, the anniversary planners thought it would be nice to have an Indian make an appreciative and complimentary speech at their state dinner. Frank James was asked to speak at the celebration. He accepted. The planners, however , asked to see his speech in advance of the occasion, and it turned out that Frank James' views — based on history rather than mythology — were not what the Pilgrims' descendants wanted to hear. Frank James refused to deliver a speech written by a public relations person. Frank James did not speak at the anniversary celebration. If he had spoken, this is what he would have said:

I speak to you as a man -- a Wampanoag Man. I am a proud man, proud of my ancestry, my accomplishments won by a strict parental direction ("You must succeed - your face is a different color in this small Cape Cod community!"). I am a product of poverty and discrimination from these two social and economic diseases. I, and my brothers and sisters, have painfully overcome, and to some extent we have earned the respect of our community. We are Indians first - but we are termed "good citizens." Sometimes we are arrogant but only because society has pressured us to be so.
It is with mixed emotion that I stand here to share my thoughts. This is a time of celebration for you - celebrating an anniversary of a beginning for the white man in America. A time of looking back, of reflection. It is with a heavy heart that I look back upon what happened to my People.
Even before the Pilgrims landed it was common practice for explorers to capture Indians, take them to Europe and sell them as slaves for 220 shillings apiece. The Pilgrims had hardly explored the shores of Cape Cod for four days before they had robbed the graves of my ancestors and stolen their corn and beans. Mourt's Relation describes a searching party of sixteen men. Mourt goes on to say that this party took as much of the Indians' winter provisions as they were able to carry.
Massasoit, the great Sachem of the Wampanoag, knew these facts, yet he and his People welcomed and befriended the settlers of the Plymouth Plantation. Perhaps he did this because his Tribe had been depleted by an epidemic. Or his knowledge of the harsh oncoming winter was the reason for his peaceful acceptance of these acts. This action by Massasoit was perhaps our biggest mistake. We, the Wampanoag, welcomed you, the white man, with open arms, little knowing that it was the beginning of the end; that before 50 years were to pass, the Wampanoag would no longer be a free people.
What happened in those short 50 years? What has happened in the last 300 years? History gives us facts and there were atrocities; there were broken promises - and most of these centered around land ownership. Among ourselves we understood that there were boundaries, but never before had we had to deal with fences and stone walls. But the white man had a need to prove his worth by the amount of land that he owned. Only ten years later, when the Puritans came, they treated the Wampanoag with even less kindness in converting the souls of the so-called "savages." Although the Puritans were harsh to members of their own society, the Indian was pressed between stone slabs and hanged as quickly as any other "witch."
And so down through the years there is record after record of Indian lands taken and, in token, reservations set up for him upon which to live. The Indian, having been stripped of his power, could only stand by and watch while the white man took his land and used it for his personal gain. This the Indian could not understand; for to him, land was survival, to farm, to hunt, to be enjoyed. It was not to be abused. We see incident after incident, where the white man sought to tame the "savage" and convert him to the Christian ways of life. The early Pilgrim settlers led the Indian to believe that if he did not behave, they would dig up the ground and unleash the great epidemic again.
The white man used the Indian's nautical skills and abilities. They let him be only a seaman -- but never a captain. Time and time again, in the white man's society, we Indians have been termed "low man on the totem pole."
Has the Wampanoag really disappeared? There is still an aura of mystery. We know there was an epidemic that took many Indian lives - some Wampanoags moved west and joined the Cherokee and Cheyenne. They were forced to move. Some even went north to Canada! Many Wampanoag put aside their Indian heritage and accepted the white man's way for their own survival. There are some Wampanoag who do not wish it known they are Indian for social or economic reasons.
What happened to those Wampanoags who chose to remain and live among the early settlers? What kind of existence did they live as "civilized" people? True, living was not as complex as life today, but they dealt with the confusion and the change. Honesty, trust, concern, pride, and politics wove themselves in and out of their [the Wampanoags'] daily living. Hence, he was termed crafty, cunning, rapacious, and dirty.
History wants us to believe that the Indian was a savage, illiterate, uncivilized animal. A history that was written by an organized, disciplined people, to expose us as an unorganized and undisciplined entity. Two distinctly different cultures met. One thought they must control life; the other believed life was to be enjoyed, because nature decreed it. Let us remember, the Indian is and was just as human as the white man. The Indian feels pain, gets hurt, and becomes defensive, has dreams, bears tragedy and failure, suffers from loneliness, needs to cry as well as laugh. He, too, is often misunderstood.
The white man in the presence of the Indian is still mystified by his uncanny ability to make him feel uncomfortable. This may be the image the white man has created of the Indian; his "savageness" has boomeranged and isn't a mystery; it is fear; fear of the Indian's temperament!
High on a hill, overlooking the famed Plymouth Rock, stands the statue of our great Sachem, Massasoit. Massasoit has stood there many years in silence. We the descendants of this great Sachem have been a silent people. The necessity of making a living in this materialistic society of the white man caused us to be silent. Today, I and many of my people are choosing to face the truth. We ARE Indians!
Although time has drained our culture, and our language is almost extinct, we the Wampanoags still walk the lands of Massachusetts. We may be fragmented, we may be confused. Many years have passed since we have been a people together. Our lands were invaded. We fought as hard to keep our land as you the whites did to take our land away from us. We were conquered, we became the American prisoners of war in many cases, and wards of the United States Government, until only recently.
Our spirit refuses to die. Yesterday we walked the woodland paths and sandy trails. Today we must walk the macadam highways and roads. We are uniting We're standing not in our wigwams but in your concrete tent. We stand tall and proud, and before too many moons pass we'll right the wrongs we have allowed to happen to us.
We forfeited our country. Our lands have fallen into the hands of the aggressor. We have allowed the white man to keep us on our knees. What has happened cannot be changed, but today we must work towards a more humane America, a more Indian America, where men and nature once again are important; where the Indian values of honor, truth, and brotherhood prevail.
You the white man are celebrating an anniversary. We the Wampanoags will help you celebrate in the concept of a beginning. It was the beginning of a new life for the Pilgrims. Now, 350 years later it is a beginning of a new determination for the original American: the American Indian.
There are some factors concerning the Wampanoags and other Indians across this vast nation. We now have 350 years of experience living amongst the white man. We can now speak his language. We can now think as a white man thinks. We can now compete with him for the top jobs. We're being heard; we are now being listened to. The important point is that along with these necessities of everyday living, we still have the spirit, we still have the unique culture, we still have the will and, most important of all, the determination to remain as Indians. We are determined, and our presence here this evening is living testimony that this is only the beginning of the American Indian, particularly the Wampanoag, to regain the position in this country that is rightfully ours.
Wamsutta
September 10, 1970

Merwinism

Thanks
by W. S. Merwin


Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
smiling by the windows looking out
in our directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is