I like to think of myself as a reasonably positive person. I try not to let all my medical bother get in the way of having fun, and I also try, on the whole, not to continually go on about my bloody pituitary tumour to other people (unless they are foolish enough to ask, of course). That's one of the nice things about having this blog. As well as a place to vent after my third phone call to the hospital in a day, and a lovely way to get into contact with people going through similar medical fun times, it provides the option for those of my friends who give a shit about the details of what's going on inside my head to keep up-to-date, and enables those of my friends who don't to… not.
Not that I judge those guys, but if you're reading this, you're one of my favourites. SHH DON'T TELL ANYONE.
One of the things that gets my goat* a little is being told to "stay positive". This only happens very occassionally, but when it does it kind of grates. A) I am trying and B) the nature of reverse psychology gives me an uncontrollable urge to shout "screw you, I can wallow if I damn well want to!" Everyone needs to be allowed to feel blue without being made to feel guilty, and for the most part a hug is all that is required to cheer me up. I should point out that I know the people who say "stay positive" mean well and I do not hold it against them, because it can be hard to know what to say to a persistant offender of the unhealthy variety. But it gets me pondering.
Indeed, I was pondering about this the other day and realised that actually, I would argue that when you're sick, negativity has a useful part to play (as long as you're sensible about it and don't just end up depressing yourself). Take my current situation, for example. I knew that even back last winter when my thyroid blood tests were coming back within the normal range and my endocrinologists were excited that I might be cured, I still felt a bit symptomatic. I could have stayed positive and said "I'm sure it's probably just a bit of a hangover from spending a year and a half ravaged by thyroid hormone. The blood tests say I'm fine so I probably am. Hurrah, I can forget all about this horrible tumour business!"
However if I had done that, then the news that I am not cured and that the tumour has grown back and that I need more surgery and possibly radiotherapy would have been even more crushing. Instead I always tried to keep in mind that more surgery was a possibility because I knew I didn't feel 100% right. And consequently when I got the news, it was less of a shock because I had already prepared myself for it.
Equally I think always taking into account the worst case scenario can not only make the negatives less unpleasant if they finally do hit, but also makes the positives more uplifting. If you go around staying positive all the time, then when you get good news it's not so much of a hurrah-moment, because you're really just getting confirmation of something that you were trying to convince yourself was true. If you're prepared for the worst, on the other hand, even slighty-bad news can seem like an improvement.
I actually think it's really sad when you read articles in magazines (usually in doctor's waiting rooms…) that extol the powers of positive thinking to heal. It really does just pile on the guilt. Feeling sad or worried is a perfectly normal response to illness and to me it just seems healthier to accept that and deal with it and move on. Being constantly instructed to feel positive all the time is only going to make the person feel guilty when they can't manage it. (And please, show me the healthy person who manages to be positive 100% of the time. If moments of negativity caused illness, we would all be sick). When you then compound that by saying that positivity will heal, it creates even more guilt. If the person doesn't get better, it's their fault for not being positive enough. But they're not better so they find it harder to be positive. And so on.
So acting like Eeyore all the time has its benefits.
As long as you don't turn into such an unrepentant cloud of gloom that no-one can stand to be around you.
______________________________________________
*N.B. if you find my goat, please return him immediately.
Sunday, 12 August 2012
Saturday, 11 August 2012
Getting Aggressive
Last Thursday was my latest trip to hospital. My mum came with me, which was nice - she often tries to make it over for the more "important" hospital visits (and the ones where I would be bored out of my skull if I went alone, thankfully!). We got there in ok time, I registered at the reception and we grabbed a seat in the endocrine waiting room. Mum went and got me a coffee (she is a hero) and just as I was raising it to my lips I was called in for the weighing and blood pressure tests.
Weight: 57kg fully clothed and shoe-ed, so I've lost 2kg since the beginning of May and possibly even lost a little since the beginning of July, when I weighed 57kg with no shoes on. That's probably down to the hyperthyroidism. When I first started losing weight, it was because I was on treatment that made me not hyperthyroid anymore, and my appetite dropped massively. Then after my pituitary surgery I lost a bit more weight initially and then was fairly stable for a while. So the fact that it's going down again is now probably a bad thing and due to my crazy thyroid levels. It's strange - I never expected to be one of those people whose doctors want them to stop losing weight, haha!
Resting blood pressure: good; standing blood pressure: a bit low, but fairly standard for me whilst on beta blockers. Then I was finally allowed to return to my delicious coffee.
I actually saw four endocrinologists in total, which was a personal best for me. Although I don't know whether to count one as she didn't speak. I would refer to her as the Silent Endocrinologist, but as she didn't say anything I really have no reason to mention her again.
So first we sat down with Dr Nightcap (shh, I'm stuck for ideas on what to call him) and the Silent Endocrinologist (damnit!) and he went through the basics of symptoms etc. and asked how much I'd been told about what to expect from further treatment. Then Dr Olive and The Main Endocrinologist joined the party. I am so popular!
The short of it is, the tumour has grown and they are going to do more surgery. I had previously been told it had grown "slightly" and this word was repeated. I took this to mean "It has grown a tiny bit, such that a non-medical person like yourself would likely be unable to perceive it at first glance". Then I was shown the latest MRI of my head. It has grown what I would describe as "a slightly alarming amount". You can no longer see the separate pituitary stalk. It's still a fair bit smaller than it was before my original surgery, but at that point the tumour was cystic (ie. had a lot of liquid gunk in the middle, yum) and now it looks probably solid. The good news is that it is not yet encroaching on my optic nerve and it looks like it has remained fairly central so far. You really don't want it growing off to the sides because it becomes impossible to target with surgery if it starts growing around major blood vessels. However, because it has grown a fair bit, they started to bandy around the word "aggressive". I now have an aggressive benign tumour in my head, and if that's not an oxymoron then I don't know what is.*
The Main Endocrinologist described it as "a beautiful surgical target", which I am adding to my list of Weird Compliments I Have Received From The Medical Profession (one day I will publish a book).
The sad news is that it's looking much more likely I might have to have radiotherapy. Previously radiotherapy was mentioned as an option that they would try to avoid if possible. Now it is an option edging its way onto the table. I am super not keen. Obviously I am infinitely more keen on having radiotherapy than on having my head slowly fill up with tumour, but pituitary radiotherapy is really not fun. It basically usually ends up killing off quite a bit of healthy pituitary as well as the tumour, and in the years after treatment you will almost certainly end up needing a selection of fun hormone replacements, which you're then on for life. Plus, with girls (not sure about the boys?) there's a fairly high risk of infertility. I may do a more in-depth post on pituitary radiotherapy later.
So that was a bit sad. Essentially I am back on the lanreotide injections for three months, then surgery. Surgery is a little bit complicated by the fact that I have a persistant sinus/nose infection ever since my last operation, so I will need to be checked out and possibly treated by the Ear Nose Throat team before they let me have surgery. This may apparently involve sticking a camera up my nose. Obviously if that happens you will be the first to get the disgusting details, dear reader! At the moment, surgery may be in November-time, but obviously that depends on appointments getting booked and ENT giving me the all clear and things.
The good news is they're doing fancy endoscopic surgery on me this time which does have higher success rates. The surgery is still a possibility of cure, but success rates are quite a bit lower for a second surgery. And the fact that the tumour has clearly grown in quite a short time (it was stable at my previous scan in March) is not a good sign. Consequently they're already planning how to treat me if/when it does turn out that they don't manage to get the whole bloody thing out.
___________________________________________
*Pituitary tumours are only considered cancerous if they metastasize, which is extremely rare. The majority of pituitary tumours are very slow growing, however mine has grown back quickly so they are treating it as "aggressive". These tumours are also treated as aggressive if they invade the areas surrounding the pituitary fossa.
Weight: 57kg fully clothed and shoe-ed, so I've lost 2kg since the beginning of May and possibly even lost a little since the beginning of July, when I weighed 57kg with no shoes on. That's probably down to the hyperthyroidism. When I first started losing weight, it was because I was on treatment that made me not hyperthyroid anymore, and my appetite dropped massively. Then after my pituitary surgery I lost a bit more weight initially and then was fairly stable for a while. So the fact that it's going down again is now probably a bad thing and due to my crazy thyroid levels. It's strange - I never expected to be one of those people whose doctors want them to stop losing weight, haha!
Resting blood pressure: good; standing blood pressure: a bit low, but fairly standard for me whilst on beta blockers. Then I was finally allowed to return to my delicious coffee.
I actually saw four endocrinologists in total, which was a personal best for me. Although I don't know whether to count one as she didn't speak. I would refer to her as the Silent Endocrinologist, but as she didn't say anything I really have no reason to mention her again.
So first we sat down with Dr Nightcap (shh, I'm stuck for ideas on what to call him) and the Silent Endocrinologist (damnit!) and he went through the basics of symptoms etc. and asked how much I'd been told about what to expect from further treatment. Then Dr Olive and The Main Endocrinologist joined the party. I am so popular!
The short of it is, the tumour has grown and they are going to do more surgery. I had previously been told it had grown "slightly" and this word was repeated. I took this to mean "It has grown a tiny bit, such that a non-medical person like yourself would likely be unable to perceive it at first glance". Then I was shown the latest MRI of my head. It has grown what I would describe as "a slightly alarming amount". You can no longer see the separate pituitary stalk. It's still a fair bit smaller than it was before my original surgery, but at that point the tumour was cystic (ie. had a lot of liquid gunk in the middle, yum) and now it looks probably solid. The good news is that it is not yet encroaching on my optic nerve and it looks like it has remained fairly central so far. You really don't want it growing off to the sides because it becomes impossible to target with surgery if it starts growing around major blood vessels. However, because it has grown a fair bit, they started to bandy around the word "aggressive". I now have an aggressive benign tumour in my head, and if that's not an oxymoron then I don't know what is.*
The Main Endocrinologist described it as "a beautiful surgical target", which I am adding to my list of Weird Compliments I Have Received From The Medical Profession (one day I will publish a book).
The sad news is that it's looking much more likely I might have to have radiotherapy. Previously radiotherapy was mentioned as an option that they would try to avoid if possible. Now it is an option edging its way onto the table. I am super not keen. Obviously I am infinitely more keen on having radiotherapy than on having my head slowly fill up with tumour, but pituitary radiotherapy is really not fun. It basically usually ends up killing off quite a bit of healthy pituitary as well as the tumour, and in the years after treatment you will almost certainly end up needing a selection of fun hormone replacements, which you're then on for life. Plus, with girls (not sure about the boys?) there's a fairly high risk of infertility. I may do a more in-depth post on pituitary radiotherapy later.
So that was a bit sad. Essentially I am back on the lanreotide injections for three months, then surgery. Surgery is a little bit complicated by the fact that I have a persistant sinus/nose infection ever since my last operation, so I will need to be checked out and possibly treated by the Ear Nose Throat team before they let me have surgery. This may apparently involve sticking a camera up my nose. Obviously if that happens you will be the first to get the disgusting details, dear reader! At the moment, surgery may be in November-time, but obviously that depends on appointments getting booked and ENT giving me the all clear and things.
The good news is they're doing fancy endoscopic surgery on me this time which does have higher success rates. The surgery is still a possibility of cure, but success rates are quite a bit lower for a second surgery. And the fact that the tumour has clearly grown in quite a short time (it was stable at my previous scan in March) is not a good sign. Consequently they're already planning how to treat me if/when it does turn out that they don't manage to get the whole bloody thing out.
___________________________________________
*Pituitary tumours are only considered cancerous if they metastasize, which is extremely rare. The majority of pituitary tumours are very slow growing, however mine has grown back quickly so they are treating it as "aggressive". These tumours are also treated as aggressive if they invade the areas surrounding the pituitary fossa.
Thursday, 9 August 2012
Film of transphennoidal endoscopic surgery to remove a TSHoma
So while I don't wish to make everyone feel as nauseated as these injections sometimes make me, I found a film of transphennoidal endoscopic surgery to remove a TSHoma! How exciting! This is the type of surgery I will be having soon, probably around November time. The person whose head this was filmed inside is one of my fellow TSH-producing pituitary tumour brethren.
Don't be fooled, it doesn't actually just take six minutes. There's a whole lot of drilling down your nose required first.
Looks pretty simple to me. Well, I mean, it's not rocket science, is it?
The above is a) more suitable for an audience of a delicate disposition and b) one of my favourite Mitchell & Webb moments!
Don't be fooled, it doesn't actually just take six minutes. There's a whole lot of drilling down your nose required first.
Looks pretty simple to me. Well, I mean, it's not rocket science, is it?
The above is a) more suitable for an audience of a delicate disposition and b) one of my favourite Mitchell & Webb moments!
Head = achy
I have had such a pituitary headache today! Right in the middle of my face. I'm hoping that's because the tumour is being battered mercilessly by the lanreotide zooming around in my system.
Wednesday, 8 August 2012
The Problem WIth Biliary Sludge
Good news at last! The lovely endocrine nurse at the hospital got it sorted and I had my Somatuline Autogel injection this afternoon. Hurrah! They still haven't worked out exactly how my next injection will be funded, but they've got four weeks to do so, and I'm already booked in for the next appointment so I will be turning up expecting it to be very much All Sorted Out by then.
The lanreotide injections do have a bunch of possible side effects, my nurse gave me the list. It is a long list so I just picked a few of my favourites:
- biliary dilatation (don't know what that is but it sounds unpleasant)
- alopecia (because so far my hair just hasn't been falling out enough)
- sinus bradycardia a.k.a. slow heartbeat (YES PLEASE)
- general physical weakness (as compared to my usual muscular state)
I've had these lanreotide injections before, so I know that for me they usually make me nauseous for the first couple of days. Then after that they tend to make me quite prone to bouts of hypoglycaemia so I have to carry around sugary things (usually I'm bad and carry sweets but this time I have invested in some tasty dried fruit). Some people get gallstones and diarrhoea and headaches and all sorts so I guess I am fairly lucky.
I was chatting to my endocrinologist about going back on the injections and he asked if I had any bad side effects so I explained the above and said that the last time I went on the injections I read online that eating an extremely low fat diet for the first few days after having an injection can help reduce side effects, and that since doing so I found I didn't get so nauseated.
I also mentioned how the first time I had them, I was led to expect they would be so awful that it was actually kind of a pleasant surprise just to feel sick for a few days. But obviously they had to tell everyone it might be as bad as the worst case scenario, just in case.
He nodded sagely and said, "Ah yes, the old biliary sludge problem."
I had no idea what he was talking about, although it did occur to me that Biliary Sludge sounds like the name of a character from Dickens.*
Maybe that's just me.
As it goes, it turns out that biliary sludge is the precursor to developing gallstones if you're on this medication, it's like lots of teeny gallstones which build up and slosh around in the pancreas. It's caused by a low turnover of bile in the pancreas (which this medication can cause) and it can be improved by eating a low fat diet. But you're much more at risk if you're overweight or obese, so hopefully I should be fine.
_________________________________________________
*He would have many jowls, and a faded red velvet coat, and his whiskers would be full of yesterday's dinner.
The lanreotide injections do have a bunch of possible side effects, my nurse gave me the list. It is a long list so I just picked a few of my favourites:
- biliary dilatation (don't know what that is but it sounds unpleasant)
- alopecia (because so far my hair just hasn't been falling out enough)
- sinus bradycardia a.k.a. slow heartbeat (YES PLEASE)
- general physical weakness (as compared to my usual muscular state)
I've had these lanreotide injections before, so I know that for me they usually make me nauseous for the first couple of days. Then after that they tend to make me quite prone to bouts of hypoglycaemia so I have to carry around sugary things (usually I'm bad and carry sweets but this time I have invested in some tasty dried fruit). Some people get gallstones and diarrhoea and headaches and all sorts so I guess I am fairly lucky.
I was chatting to my endocrinologist about going back on the injections and he asked if I had any bad side effects so I explained the above and said that the last time I went on the injections I read online that eating an extremely low fat diet for the first few days after having an injection can help reduce side effects, and that since doing so I found I didn't get so nauseated.
I also mentioned how the first time I had them, I was led to expect they would be so awful that it was actually kind of a pleasant surprise just to feel sick for a few days. But obviously they had to tell everyone it might be as bad as the worst case scenario, just in case.
He nodded sagely and said, "Ah yes, the old biliary sludge problem."
I had no idea what he was talking about, although it did occur to me that Biliary Sludge sounds like the name of a character from Dickens.*
Maybe that's just me.
As it goes, it turns out that biliary sludge is the precursor to developing gallstones if you're on this medication, it's like lots of teeny gallstones which build up and slosh around in the pancreas. It's caused by a low turnover of bile in the pancreas (which this medication can cause) and it can be improved by eating a low fat diet. But you're much more at risk if you're overweight or obese, so hopefully I should be fine.
_________________________________________________
*He would have many jowls, and a faded red velvet coat, and his whiskers would be full of yesterday's dinner.
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Please Sir, Can I Have My Medication?
Regular readers will remember that earlier in the year I was lamenting the fact that my stupid GP's forced me to change GP surgery after I moved a few minutes down the road, due to their weird practice boundaries. At first I thought this was just Massively Inconvenient And Stupid, but in fact it's gone on to have far more serious ramifications.
At present I am thyrotoxic; I have way too much thyroid hormone sloshing around my body, because my pituitary tumour is producing a hormone which is overstimulating my thyroid gland. It has been getting noticeably worse recently; over the past few weeks I have had to up my dose of the beta blockers I take to control my excessively fast heartbeat from 1 - 2 per day to 2 or more frequently 3 per day. I'm noticeably more jittery, I get shaky hands sometimes, I'm getting much more tired more easily. I feel pretty rubbish right now.
The medical universe strongly agree that I need to go on lanreotide injections to stop the tumour producing thyroid stimulating hormone immediately. Like right now. Like actually we should probably have put you back on them at the start of July.
They do not agree on who should pay for it.
My injections are expensive; they cost about £750 a pop (one injection lasts for four weeks, so they cost about £27 a day). My old GP noted that they were more expensive than uranium, but he went on and prescribed them anyway.
My new GP noted that they were more expensive than uranium, and that they are now on our PCT Red List.
The Red List is a list of drugs that should only be prescribed by a specialist, not a general practitioner. It has been suggested that more PCTs are red-listing more drugs to make savings cuts. I could not possibly comment on that. What I do know is that despite the fact that my specialist endocrinologist requested my new GP prescribe them, this is apparently not enough, and after consulting with the PCT (primary care trust) she was unable to do so. The problem is complicated by the fact that the long-acting form of the drug I need (Somatuline Autogel) is not technically licensed for my condition (TSHoma). The older, short-acting form is licensed, but it only lasts ten days, and who wants injections every ten days? Essentially this is just wrangling, but my GP doesn't want to be held responsible for prescribing an unlicensed drug for me, should anything go wrong. She is playing by the book, which is a stance I can sympathise with.
Fortunately the day after I first found out about this issue, I went into the hospital for an appointment and informed my various endocrinologists of the problem. They immediately requested that the specialist nurses order in the first dose of the drug for me so that I could have it administered as soon as possible.
The nurses already have the syringe full of delicious lanreotide. It came in yesterday.
I could have had the injection yesterday. I could have had it today. I could even have it tomorrow, but I don't know if I will - because even though the first dose has been bought and paid for and is SITTING IN A FRIDGE WAITING FOR ME, they are wrangling about who should pay for the next dose.
The next dose.
WHICH I DON'T NEED TO HAVE FOR FOUR WEEKS.
The nurse was super apologetic when I called up to find out what the heck was going on (as I had been told I would probably have it yesterday or today but hadn't heard anything) and she's basically spent the whole afternoon trying to find out if she can just give me the damn injection already and work out where the next one is coming from afterwards.
There is no question that the NHS wants me to have this drug. It's the drug I need, I've had it before, plenty of other patients with my condition have had it before, it works, the licensing issue is really just a wrangle and they reckon the drug company is hoping to get it licensed for TSHoma soon anyway. All the people actually involved in my care want me to have this drug as soon as possible because being this thyrotoxic is Not A Good Thing. But no-one wants to pay for it. Which is ridiculous because it's public damn money. If the hospital pays for it, if my GP's pay for it, it doesn't matter - the net effect on the public purse is exactly the same.*
So please can I just have the damn injection already?
________________________________________________
*Although in fact, it would probably be cheaper to the NHS overall for me to have it administered by a nurse at my GP's practice rather than an expensive and specialist endocrine nurse at the hospital whose time is probably more valuable.**
** And more expensive if my thyroid gland goes into overdrive while I'm hanging around waiting and sends me into a coma.***
***Very unlikely but actually not entirely impossible.
At present I am thyrotoxic; I have way too much thyroid hormone sloshing around my body, because my pituitary tumour is producing a hormone which is overstimulating my thyroid gland. It has been getting noticeably worse recently; over the past few weeks I have had to up my dose of the beta blockers I take to control my excessively fast heartbeat from 1 - 2 per day to 2 or more frequently 3 per day. I'm noticeably more jittery, I get shaky hands sometimes, I'm getting much more tired more easily. I feel pretty rubbish right now.
The medical universe strongly agree that I need to go on lanreotide injections to stop the tumour producing thyroid stimulating hormone immediately. Like right now. Like actually we should probably have put you back on them at the start of July.
They do not agree on who should pay for it.
My injections are expensive; they cost about £750 a pop (one injection lasts for four weeks, so they cost about £27 a day). My old GP noted that they were more expensive than uranium, but he went on and prescribed them anyway.
My new GP noted that they were more expensive than uranium, and that they are now on our PCT Red List.
The Red List is a list of drugs that should only be prescribed by a specialist, not a general practitioner. It has been suggested that more PCTs are red-listing more drugs to make savings cuts. I could not possibly comment on that. What I do know is that despite the fact that my specialist endocrinologist requested my new GP prescribe them, this is apparently not enough, and after consulting with the PCT (primary care trust) she was unable to do so. The problem is complicated by the fact that the long-acting form of the drug I need (Somatuline Autogel) is not technically licensed for my condition (TSHoma). The older, short-acting form is licensed, but it only lasts ten days, and who wants injections every ten days? Essentially this is just wrangling, but my GP doesn't want to be held responsible for prescribing an unlicensed drug for me, should anything go wrong. She is playing by the book, which is a stance I can sympathise with.
Fortunately the day after I first found out about this issue, I went into the hospital for an appointment and informed my various endocrinologists of the problem. They immediately requested that the specialist nurses order in the first dose of the drug for me so that I could have it administered as soon as possible.
The nurses already have the syringe full of delicious lanreotide. It came in yesterday.
I could have had the injection yesterday. I could have had it today. I could even have it tomorrow, but I don't know if I will - because even though the first dose has been bought and paid for and is SITTING IN A FRIDGE WAITING FOR ME, they are wrangling about who should pay for the next dose.
The next dose.
WHICH I DON'T NEED TO HAVE FOR FOUR WEEKS.
The nurse was super apologetic when I called up to find out what the heck was going on (as I had been told I would probably have it yesterday or today but hadn't heard anything) and she's basically spent the whole afternoon trying to find out if she can just give me the damn injection already and work out where the next one is coming from afterwards.
There is no question that the NHS wants me to have this drug. It's the drug I need, I've had it before, plenty of other patients with my condition have had it before, it works, the licensing issue is really just a wrangle and they reckon the drug company is hoping to get it licensed for TSHoma soon anyway. All the people actually involved in my care want me to have this drug as soon as possible because being this thyrotoxic is Not A Good Thing. But no-one wants to pay for it. Which is ridiculous because it's public damn money. If the hospital pays for it, if my GP's pay for it, it doesn't matter - the net effect on the public purse is exactly the same.*
So please can I just have the damn injection already?
________________________________________________
*Although in fact, it would probably be cheaper to the NHS overall for me to have it administered by a nurse at my GP's practice rather than an expensive and specialist endocrine nurse at the hospital whose time is probably more valuable.**
** And more expensive if my thyroid gland goes into overdrive while I'm hanging around waiting and sends me into a coma.***
***Very unlikely but actually not entirely impossible.
Monday, 30 July 2012
IMFW: A Functional Cure for HIV?
Exciting news that a French research study may have found a way to allow HIV-infected people to avoid developing full-blown AIDS. In the study, newly-infected patients were treated with antiretroviral drugs very soon after acquiring the infection, which is quite unusual, and after three years of treatment they were able to stop their medication and remain well. It's a functional cure, which isn't quite a "cure" in the traditional sense; they still have the virus in their bodies - it's just kept at extremely low levels. And it only works if the infection is caught quickly. But it's a strong indication that antiretrovirals should be given as soon as possible after initial infection.
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