Molehills

It's that time of year, when all the referrals from the hospital appointment season come through, spreading like a contagious multi-coloured Outlook rash. This morning was dermatology. 

For someone with EDS I have remarkably good skin so I've never needed to see a dermatologist before. I still don't really, except I've got this little 'might be a skin tag, might be a mole' on my back which has been getting bigger for years. It's still teeny tiny in the grand scheme of things though. If it was just an inch to either side I wouldn't need to do anything about it, but it's right on my spine. The way I get up from chairs means it occasionally gets caught, but it gets squished every time I do the kind of spinal curling required to put wayward parts back in their rightful places and it makes me feel sick. I'm aware there is a certain irony in it being the teeny tiny little mole that makes me sick rather than the loudly popping, painful joint relocations, but whatever. It's my mole to be nauseous for. 

For a while anyway. The mole is to be removed. It's the kind of job which my  GP could do, but because of the potential to bleed lots, and issues with local anaesthesia not working it is wiser to do it in a hospital setting. In, off, out. Simples. 

But it never is with EDS. Issues with the local anaesthetic lignocaine not working properly are so commonly seen in EDS that it's something experienced clinicians ask about when diagnosing people. It seems to vary a little; for some people they can be properly numbed with lignocaine it just takes more than usual to do so and doesn't last as long, others find it 'travels' and they'll get numb...but not in the part of the body the injection was intended for, and others just don't respond at all. I'm in the latter category, it was really shocking to me when I was told that local anaesthetics actually make most people fully numb as I'd always assumed they were just the world's worst painkillers. Having four impacted wisdom teeth removed with only a failed local anaesthetic will be forever etched upon my memory, along with everything said by the dentist who seemed most disconcerted by having to hold down a screaming, fighting patient insisting they could feel everything. Sadly that wasn't the only occasion I was held down, screaming in pain, as a procedure was done, whilst medical staff told me to calm down as I couldn't possibly feel a thing, they'd used lots of local anaesthetic.

The dermatology consultant is lovely and charming, and fortunately quite happy to admit he knows very little about Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. It might seem like a bad thing for a consultant not to know anything about the underlying condition a patient has, but it's probably quite common, there are far too many different rare conditions for doctors to know more than the odd fact about them all. The only time I find it a problem is when doctors very clearly don't know anything at all about EDS...but they won't admit that, and insist upon making fools of themselves by getting fact after fact wrong. That only ever goes very badly for both patient and doctor. As it's unrealistic to expect expertise in every condition, I stick to the rule that any doctor confident enough to admit they don't know everything is a doctor I'm happy to let treat me. I like the ones who use google during appointments to see if they can find any relevant research even more. 

Google had a few things to say about the inefficacy of local anaesthesia in people with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome but had no opinion on what anaesthetic should be tried instead of lignocaine. I explained to the doctor that given the problems with lignocaine I've had in the past I would prefer them just to remove the mole without any anaesthetic. Usually they laser the mole off, then cauterise any bleeding, which apparently hurts. I have a suspicion it's also a disaster of an idea as it's usually very difficult to close wounds in anyone with EDS, the skin just sort of pulls apart and the wound gets wider. I think actually cutting out the mole then stitching will be the only way to get it to heal properly. As it'll only take a tiny incision and couple of sutures at most I'm not really bothered that there won't be any anaesthetic. 

The doctor does seem bothered, in fact almost stressed by the idea and insisted on prescription for EMLA cream. EMLA hasn't worked on any EDS'er I've ever come across, which makes sense as it's a combination of lignocaine and prilocaine, but it does no harm to give it a go. Just not on the morning of the procedure, I'll need to be quite focused mentally to get through the pain without anaesthetic and messing about with people insisting EMLA should work will make that impossible. I'll conduct my own EMLA and pin trial over the next few weeks. 

Professor Bird will know if there are any local anaesthetics more suited to people with EDS than lignocaine so the consultant has asked me to contact Leeds and let his secretary know the answer. That expertise of that nature will be impossible for patients and doctors to easily access once Professor Bird retires in September is perhaps the biggest tragedy of Chapel Allerton's continued failure to appoint a consultant with a special interest in EDS to replace him. 
 

If you have...

'I don't suffer!' - Guest blog by Elena Newley

 Guest blog by Elena Newley: Originally posted on Planet Mouret 
 
I don't suffer!

OK, haven't updated for ages now as I've been busy with various projects but today I'm having a little bit of a grump and so thought I'd share my grumpiness with y'all!

I don't 'suffer' from autism - ok??  I HAVE autism.   Argh!  It's not an illness, it's a condition.   I'm one of those people who believes I am blessed with autism.  I honestly feel it's a great benefit to me and I wouldn't want to be any other way.

Not long ago I happened to be at a hospital appointment and the doctor came into the room and his first words were "did you know they can cure autism nowadays?"   Quite apart from being somewhat stunned by this astonishing revelation, I was also thinking to myself "this appointment isn't going to go well!"  I patiently explained that autism is a neurological condition and it cannot be 'cured' to which he replied "oh yes it can, with cognitive therapy if they catch it early enough, say before a child was 5 years old".

Hmm, then I'm thinking to myself "do I really have long enough to talk him through this?" before I plunged into my reply where I pointed out (a) that you cannot properly DIAGNOSE autism before a child is five years old as their cognitive processes haven't developed sufficiently until that point to conduct the actual testing (b) although cognitive therapy may indeed assist an autistic individual with coping with various aspects of their day to day life, it certainly cannot 'cure' autism.    He then hmmed and hahed, remained unconvinced, I gave up trying to explain and we got on with my appointment!

I guess the point here is twofold :

Firstly, his ignorance was alarming.

But secondly, and more importantly from my point of view, I DON'T WANT TO BE CURED!!  I'm fine as a I am! I am happy being autistic and I don't want anyone to 'mend' me, 'change' me, or 'cure' me.

So, lest anyone is left in any doubt - I am NOT suffering!  I am autistic and I am happy this way.  Yes, it's sometimes hard but show me someone, anyone who doesn't find some aspects of their life 'hard' - we all do in our own ways.  Yes, there are times when I wish the Neuro-typical world would get over itself and start realizing that it is THEY who make our lives so difficult by their constant refusal to adapt themselves to OUR needs.  The real joke is, it is AUTISTIC people who are meant to be inflexible and unable to adapt...

Friends, in my experience, it is actually the neuro-typical world which seems unable to adapt.  NT's just automatically assume we all want to fit into their world in much the same way as many people assume the ONLY decent method of communication is verbalization, if you don't talk then (obviously) you can't communicate - ARGHH!  Wrong!

So my dear blog-readers, yes, I am having a little bit of a grump, did I mention that?  :)

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?

Amongst the dark vastness of the many millions of blogs, occasionally one shines through like the famous crazy diamonds. Words so powerful, the shafts of light they portray into worlds we'd never otherwise see. 

Cold Steel Rain is one such blog. As long term BSS readers will know, due to my relationship with The Captain I have a particular concern for serving and former members of our armed forces. I wept impotently watching a strong, powerful man retreat into a world of terror so powerful he had no idea where he was. A world where pain was so overwhelming that to burn his own flesh with lit cigarettes offered a comfort and focus I couldn't provide. A world a million miles and many years away, but one so real to him that my mere presence invoked a violent response. I knew never to wake him suddenly, to always approach directly, but when his world overtook the world we shared the only thing I could do was withdraw. Understanding his trauma protected my mind, but could not protect my body from his. My Ehlers Danlos Syndrome saved me from a broken arm, when he was in a mental state so disturbed he thought I was attacking him. It was a line I wasn't prepared to cross and one he was too unwell to even know he'd broached. 

To say Cold Steel Rain is beautifully written sounds trite as it is a former soldier detailing the traumas of war and coming back to the civilian world. It is an achingly poignant insight into the kind of horrors most of us will never see and will never have to thanks to the bravery of others. Cold Steel Rain should be mandatory reading not just for those making decisions about sending others to war, but for all of us.





Bog Off - Exhibit 25 Euston Calling

This Bog Off was sent in by BSS reader and previous Bog Off contributor Louise Bolotin


The two disabled loos on the concourse at Euston Station in London leave much to be desired. For one thing, they are very cramped - long but far too narrow. Anyone in even a standard-size wheelchair would probably have a problem trying to do a u-turn once inside. It's barely 4 foot wide.

The other major problem is that Euston is busy. Very busy. At all hours of the day and night. Consequently, I can pretty much guarantee that whenever I need to use the loo there, it will be dirty. Wet seats, wet floors and litter (mainly loo paper) are generally a given, as might a grubby sink be. And, depressingly, if the checklist on the wall is accurate, it normally only gets cleaned twice a day.
So I was pleasantly surprised last time I got caught short while waiting for a train because the loo I entered was spotless. I nearly peed myself in shock, to be honest.
The plus points are a huge, full-size mirror, a coat hook (yay!), frequently more rarely sighted than a yeti in a wheelchair, the door rail (why do so few crip toilets expect people with weak hand joints to push open a wide, heavy door using only the handle?) and - joy of joys - not one, but two alarms. The cord alarm is actually hanging free, just as it should be, touching the floor. And on the wall behind the door there is also a wall mounted emergency button, next to the reset.
I shall be back next week in Euston - I wonder if the loos will still be as sparkling clean?

Thanks Louise! If anyone would like to contribute to Bog Off, photos and a description of the offending, or winning loo, can be emailed to benefitscroungingscum@hotmail.co.uk