* Self Diagnosis ^

                                                      SELF DIAGNOSIS

Recently my pony August, who is really getting on in age has been hobbling around.  His back right leg is swollen between the hoof and his fetlock and it has been somewhat worrisome for me.  Yesterday on the way in to town, my mum and I stopped at our vet to speak to him about it.  I explained what the problem was and then asked him if it could be as a result of a couple of things I had ‘Googled’.  He doubted very much it was any of those things and rather that he had probably twisted his leg as a result of stepping into a hole or something….that was what my mum had thought all along, but hey you never know do you.  After buying some medication to help with the swelling and pain and being given some handy advise to place his leg in warm saline water for 15 minutes a day, we made our way into town.  Along the way, my mum said to me that our vet is probably smiling to himself about my self diagnosis, but this is what we do…right?

 

 

 

Since Google came along, that is what we do…don’t we!!!!!  At the slightest symptom we show these days we reach first for ‘Google’ and then when we have realized the worst case scenario, we drag ourselves off to the doctor to have our suspicions confirmed.  Gone are the days of going to the doctor and he/she giving us a diagnosis…no we have be smarter and cleverer than the doctors.  It doesn’t end there though with some people.  Have you ever noticed that once the doctor has diagnosed the problem and prescribed medication to help ease the symptoms and/or cure the ailment, that the medications are ‘Googled’ to find all the side effects…lol

When I was in Grade 7 – before we had ‘Google’, I developed chicken pox in the third term of the year.  I remember it was a Sunday morning and I woke to find these weird and itchy spots on my tummy.  There were only a couple and my mum and dad weren’t sure, but thought it might be chicken pox.  Matthew had chicken pox when he was in pre-primary school and apparently had it so mildly that you could hardly tell – were it not for the diagnosis of our GP.  Mark, never had chicken pox…in fact he didn’t have any of the childhood diseases…lucky fish.  Anyway, we duly went to church that morning and my mum showed a friend of hers my spots, who agreed with her that it did in fact look like chicken pox.  The next day I had plenty more and was really itchy, so my mum made an appointment for me to go to our GP.  YES, DEFINITELY, NO DOUBT ABOUT IT, it was as everyone thought, so I was packed off home to wait out the time until all the scabs had fallen off before returning to school.  This was one time that I R-E-A-L-L-Y didn’t want to stay at home as it was athletics season and I was pretty darn good at athletics…not the long distances, but the sprints…then there was high Jump and with my long gangly legs I was able to jump over that beam with ease compared to some of my peers.  Then what about the hurdles too – yes I loved athletics and all the practising that went along with, sometimes even during the school day we went outside to practise and that was the best. Hehe.  Well it was just my luck that I was so very ill, with high temperatures and spots on my entire body…I was literally covered from top to toe and even had them inside my mouth and down my throat, that I ended up being at home for more than 3 weeks!!!!  I missed athletics day and that was the worst for me.

 

 

So will I continue to self-diagnose my horses’ ailments? Probably,…but I will leave it up to our vet to let me know and hey one day I may even get it right.

 

So for tonight,I am fabulous and fighting….   J <3 <3

‘Daddy will Fix It’

Dear all

It is a well told tale in our family that when I was younger….in fact, much, much younger, that if I broke anything I would take it to my mother and, no what she said or thought about the extent of the damage, I would always say to her with the confidence of one who knew, that ‘daddy will fix it’.  Isn’t it amazing how as small children we can believe with all our heart in the power of our parents and the abilities they possess.

I have heard the anecdote regaled to me by my mother, that when she and my dad were moving all her things from my grandparents’ house to their new home, my dad let slip a box that had a green piggy bank placed at the top of the box.  This particular green piggy bank had great sentimental value to my mum as it had been given to her as a child by her grandparents.  She no longer used it for its purpose, but she kept it because it meant something to her.  Needless to say she was most upset when she saw her green piggy bank lying in pieces on the pathway leading to the house.  My dad, just as upset that he had let the box slip, wanted to do what he could to fix the situation and to make my mother happy…so he spent a few evenings joining the fragments together with glue, until once more the item resembled a patchwork green piggy bank.  Maybe this is the story that made me believe and have so much faith in the ‘fixing’ ability of my dad.

Then I grew older and I came to realize that there are perhaps things and sometimes situations that actually aren’t fixable.

In this last month I went to Charlotte Maxeke hospital to have my ‘old’ and no longer ‘working’ port removed and a new one inserted. The operation was a simple procedure and was meant to take place as one operation….unfortunately it didn’t happen this way at all as the surgeon was obviously having a ‘bad hair day’ and did ‘Part B’ of the procedure, omitting ‘Part A’.  I woke to find that I had 2 ports….. HEHE….The situation was easily fixable though, it just meant that I had to return to hospital the following week to have the ‘still old’ port removed…

Many things in my life have been successfully fixed, from the missing puzzle pieces that were found to the broken heart that found friendship with someone else.  Something that was not so easily fixed was the arm of my First Love Doll that was, most painfully I am sure, completely pulled out of its socket by my neighbour – and still friend –Shaun.  No matter how my parents tried, they just could not get that arm back in.  The only way to ‘fix’ my ‘sadness’, was to buy me a new ‘First Love Doll.  So too with the progression of my CF, the damage that has occurred through the years is not ‘fixable’….however I learn to accept the changes and modify my life accordingly.  These days, although I still believe my dad can fix many things, I know that God, my Father is the one I look to now to ‘fix’ me.

 

 

I am Fabulously fighting CF, Goodnight all :-)

My Gorgeous Mom, COusin and Aunt :-)

 

 

**CommUniCAtIoN**

Today is the third day of a brand new year and I have been pondering lately about what 2013 will hold for me. Just a year ago I was in hospital recovering from a very serious infection that almost took my life and waiting for 'my Josh' to arrive from England. Josh and I go way back...in fact way way back to nappies and bottles and things I don't even remember but our parents do. Every day after the turn for the better, I became stronger and stronger and I managed to see the year through with what I would call minor set backs and my mum would probably refer to as major ones...haha. :)

Christmas 2012 was amazing. My brother , his wife and my gran came to stay with us for 8 days and we had so much fun. Matthew went on an outride with my dad and I and my dad's friend...I was really happy that we talked Matthew into going with us as I wanted him to experience the same freedom on horseback that I do. There is nothing to describe how at one you become with this massive beast beneath you, looking at the world from a different height, feeling the sun beat down on your body with a strength that seeps into you, giving you renewed energy. Then there is the bond of friends and family doing something together...sharing in an experience not many manage to do in this day and age.

Families seem to be more distant these days, not only with space but also with lack of time to spend together. My parents and my gran have so many interesting stories to tell about when they were growing up and I look at my mum and her sister, my aunt, and they have stayed close to each other. They may not live in the same town anymore, but they communicate all the time...I have laughed at my mum as she has 'changed with the times'...not always willingly and sometimes quite critically, but she and my aunt can 'facebook' each other and at one point there was 'mxit' but now it's 'whatsapp'...of course there is also e-mail for reaalllyyyy long things they want to say to each other, but the point is they stay close because they want to and it is important to both of them to keep in touch. When we first moved here almost 8 years ago, my mum used to write....yes write...with a pen and paper, which you then put in an envelope and sent all stamped by the post office, to a whole load of people....all her friends she had left behind, her family overseas and anyone who was interested in reading what she went on about. (When we were back in Pietermaritzburg in September, a very dear friend of my mum's had been cleaning out and she gave my mum all the letters she had written to her over the years...quite a nostalgic moment I might add). Then she became the proud owner of a laptop and instead of writing, she typed letters to everyone. Soon thereafter, we managed to obtain an intermittant internet connection...which by the way is still intermittant - haha - and she started to e-mail. My word, we even have intermittant skype now too, so we can skype if we want to. My point is that communication is so very important for people to stay in touch with those they love and care for, those they want to keep close in their lives and with the changes that have come about and all that is available to us today, there is no excuse for not staying in touch....all it takes is, making time and taking the effort. My mum always says - 'if something is important enough to you, you will make the time, even if it is an inconvenience.'

Times have changed in the medical world too...and because of the advances in medicine and care, people are able to live longer. Cystic fibrosis was first discovered in the late 1930's and only in 1949 were they more seriously able to correlate symptoms and treatment together. When my late brother was diagnosed in 1987, the expected life span of a cystic patient was 13. By the time I was born and diagnosed in 1991, the life expectancy age had increased to 21. The point is that with all the research that is done, the new medicines used and the care given with physiotherapy, we are able to have a much better and prolonged life. For me though, It wouldn't happen if it weren't for those close to me...my support group...my family and friends, doctors, pharmacists, dietitians and physiotherapists. I am important enough to each one of them to take an interest in my life and for that I am soooooo grateful. They all of them care enough about me to stay in touch and help when I need them, and if they hadn't cared so much, I may not be where I am today.

Lets make 2013 a year of caring, a year of reaching out, a year of communicating and a year of progressing. Look up those you have lost contact with, find out who needs you and you may be surprised to find that your life seems 'lighter' and a little less stressed...all because you did something for someone by showing that you have the love inside of you that God intended you to share.

For the first time in 2013, this is Me starting a new year, FAbulous and Fighting :-)

xxx <3 <3

** I unfortunately cannot put up photos as my internet will not allow me...;-(  **

Lifes Great!

Hellooooo again to all you faithful family, friends and followers.   

I have been home a week and it has been marvellous.  

In this last week I have found myself being able to do things I have not been able to do in a very long time….at least six months, if not longer.

At the weekend (last weekend) my mum and I went shopping and I walked up and down the mall for at least two hours.  Yes we did stop for a breather and lunch, but the fact remains that I was able to enjoy myself, browsing and trying on clothes that I can’t afford to buy…but it really felt good to be able to do that.

I have groomed and worked my horses…not just looked at them, patted them and said ‘hello’ to them – but really spent time with them. 

I cooked supper last night and had fun making my own concoction with whatever I could find in our vegetable garden.  I walked myself to the garden and looked around, cutting here and snipping there to add to the flavour and aroma of my special sauce.  I was a bit surprised to find one of our tortoises hiding amongst the rosemary and lavender and decided to overlook her for my kitchen cuisine…haha

So it has been a good week and with effort and hard work I am looking forward to improving my lung functions and gaining more weight.  The point in my life that I am today though would not be possible if it weren’t for the support system I have behind me.  My parents and brother, who have always been there, nagging and cajoling, moaning and encouraging, and at times I have just wanted to run away from it all.  The doctors give me the facts and lecture me in the most endearing way, spelling things out in a sugar coated nutshell, but at the end of the day it is really up to me as to to how I decide to take all this nagging and lecturing.  The Bible has many teachings for us to follow and the book that probably has more advise in it than any other is Proverbs.  Soloman was the wisest of all mankind and throughout the book of Proverbs he differentiates between the wise and the fool.  Chapter 12 verse 1 is an example of one such snippet of wisdom, where he wrote under the inspiration of God:  ‘Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid.’  I know that this is true in my life… I have to be disciplined to take my medication, do my physiotherapy, exercise and eat correctly because if I don’t do all of these things, my health will deteriorate more rapidly. 

This last visit to hospital, the first time at Charlotte Maxeke, I met some young adults like me and it was great to be able to spend time chatting to them.  We can relate to each other, we know what the others are going through like no-one else does.  The support of family and friends is so important in our lives, but they don’t fully understand as each of us do what it is that we are going through.  These friendships are different to those I have with anyone else and just as you need a gym buddy or a walking partner, I need them and they need me….a discovery that in my wisdom I choose to embrace…  

So for tonight, this is me Fabulous and Fighting <3 xxx <3 

Below are A few badly taken Pics  of my stay in hospital with my fellow CF sufferer Friend, Juan West'

                                                                        Me and Juan

My attempt at french Plait on Sister Barnard. Lol

                                                         Skype Session with mom

                                                         Pack up ready to go home

Define the great Line

Hello My fellow Readers

I am going to catch you up on the happenings of my first week at Charlotte Mokexe Hospital.

Wednesday last week, mom and I drove through to CM hospital for my admittance. The bakkie was absolutely over laden  We looked like a Durban Taxi. I had two big bags which were about to spring open, a shopping bag full of medications, my kangaroo bag, Laptop bag plus my handbag and Ipad. We were most definitely over the Limit in terms of weight. Good thing I was not going by bus :-D But hey, I needed to be prepared, you NEVER know what you might just need

After mom was chased away, I got settled into my room. My new home for the following 2 weeks. My brain was screaming at me, convincing me this must be a mistake, I am not going to survive this. A zombie apocalypse came to mind. But then I came back down to earth and Defined the Line between imagination and reality .

Later that day, all the usual things happened, taking of bloods, Lung functions. I however did not have any needles put in for a drip until Thursday morning. I spent the rest of my day learning the ward, finding out where the medicine rooms were, whilst trying not to get  lost.

On Thursday, Sister Furlonger (very Nice sister, despite alot of assumptions that have been made) decided it was time to put in my butterfly needle into my Portacath. That is when the first blow of bad news decided to grace us with its presence. After almost 3 years of usage, my Port has finally blocked. So in the interim until I am able to have surgery to have the old one taken out and a new one put in,  I am having to be stabbed in the arm every couple days when a new drip is inserted. :-(  
Later that day, I learnt how to mix my medications correctly. I now have a degree in Mixology. Dr Baird and Sister Furlonger said to me yesterday, that they are very impressed at how I am looking after myself and doing my meds. Yay me! Time for a Nody Badge.

During the course of the last few days, 3rd year Physiotherapists have been using me for their exams. It has been alot of fun, yet exhausting at the same time. I am using today to have a nice relax and catch my breath. 
On Monday I had Elisma, and the poor dear was an absolute wreck. She was beyond nervous. I even contemplated giving her some of my oxygen :-) Luckily for me though, her first choice patient was there, so she used him. I am just waiting for their results to be released, and she said that she would let me know how she did. lets all hope she passed.

Even though Elisma's patient was there and she didn't use me, I did not get away that easily. Marilee's first choice patient decided to leave, so she rushed to my room to break the news. She was using me for exam. By the time the examiners arrived, I think I was more nervous than she was. Her exam went off very well, however for me, the exercise she did with me nearly killed me (figuratively speaking), I did a step exercise, and climbed 71 stairs in 4 minutes, if I remember correctly. It could be longer. But anyways. That was that day done and dusted.

Yesterday, was a very interesting day. My next Physio had arrived at about 10am, and her exam was only at 2pm. But Carrie decided that she just wanted to chill and have a relaxing morning with me. I didn't mind at all. Unfortunately for Carrie though,that was not the case. Earlier in the day, Dr Baird had come in the results of my Sputums, and we Finally had 3 sensitivities. The first sensitivty I couldn't use the med, as I had a vial reaction to it in july. It was Piptaz,I think. So It was decided, I would have my stat dose of Keftaz. 

A stat does, as I have learnt, Is a quick high IV run through of the first batch of the Medication. So What happened was, 2grams Of Keftaz was put into a 100ml Saline bag and run over an hour. Now normally Keftaz is run over 8 hours in a 200ml bag continually. So you never disconnect the drip, you change the IV bag.

So getting back to the actual story. About 10 minutes in to the first Stat dose, my arm started itching, but I didn't think anything of it. About 15 minutes in, I turned to carry and asked her if my face was red as I was starting to feel rather warm. Carry said yes, they are a little flustered, but she couldn't really say. The next minute, my arms started itching profusely , I told Carrie and she said 'must I go call the Sister'. I said No, lets just leave it for a little bit and see what happens.

In an instant, my ears felt like they were on fire, and fingers were bloodshot. Carrie looked at me, and I looked at her. We had a silent mutual thought. Carrie dashed out of the room hysterically looking for Sister Furlonger. They both arrived back and Sister F lifted up my shirt and looked at my back. I don't know what she saw, but she asked what it was it? Like a mosquito itch, or a general over itch. So I told her all over. By this point, I could not stop scratching, but the more I scratched, the more I itched! The drip was stopped instantly and I flushed it out with Hep Saline. Sister F returned with 4 Renatidine pills, 2 Antihistamines and 30mg of Prednisone. I was literally jumping out of my skin, I was boiling hot and Itchy all over. Even down to my toes! If Carrie and I were in the animal Kindom, we would have looked like we were two Baboons doing a dancing ritual, hands everywhere, trying to scratch my itchy spots. Haha.

Eventually all the meds kicked in and I got drowsy. I felt terrible as the exam was in an hours time, and I now wanted to sleep. Luckily I was able to catch a few Zzzzzz for half an hour, and woke up in time for prep for the exam. It went of without a hitch, and I was even able to jog on the spot for 5minutes.

I am hoping I will be able to go home in the next couple of days to finish my treatment there. But time will tell.


So now before I get carried away, I shall end off in saying that, No matter what is thrown in my direction, there is a plan for me, and I will get through this. Especially with all of your support.

I hope to see you all soon.

This is me, Leaving a few photos...and Fabulous and Fighting harder than ever \

xoxo * <3 *




                                               My Bedroom

The Ward