The TTT

The Tilt Table Test (TTT) is designed to assess the integrity of a person’s autonomic nervous system. The heart plays a significant role in its function as does the vagus nerve. With so many organ systems tied into the sympathetic (fight of flight) and parasympathetic (calming) fibers of the vagus nerve, one can see how it can affect numerous aspects of a person’s health . . . and ability to function. This is complicated. A TTT may introduce more questions than answers yet sometimes provide the reason a person has not responded to other treatments for seizures. Today, I’m just glad that I survived!

The nurse or examiner administering the test begins by starting an IV in your arm. The patient needs to have been fasting for about 6 hours and cannot have anything to eat or drink until the test is completed as many folks will become nauseous. While there are variations of the TT Test involving medications that increase your heart rate, no medications were used for my test. The purpose of the IV is for the administration of fluids should your blood pressure drop. This usually happens if you faint during the test. If you do faint then your test is considered “positive” and the cardiologist makes his or her diagnosis from there.

The test procedure itself begins with the patient lying on his or her back for 15 minutes on a mechanical bed that tilts up and down from head to toe. Heavy straps are placed over your shins, thighs, and lower chest to prevent you from falling off of the exam table should you faint! (The examiner is supposed to lower the table in the event of a fainting spell, thus ending the test.) After the initial resting period and baseline testing of your vitals (EKG, pulse oximetery, blood pressure, and pulse), the table is inclined to 70 or 80 degrees instead of the 90 degrees our bodies are accustomed to when sitting or standing upright. You stay in this slightly reclined position for 45 minutes or until you faint. Then the table is lowered and you recover over the next 30-60 minutes. My test was scheduled for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. My husband and I left the hospital OVER FOUR HOURS LATER!!!

The nurse tried to start an IV in my right hand but was unsuccessful. The needlestick triggered a 30-minute convulsive episode. My husband applied an ice pack to my hand and eventually I stopped spontaneously seizing, uttering primal screams, and crying. My body was already starting to lose control, my brain felt like it was on fire, and I was unable to straighten my legs for the proper test positioning until the episode had stopped completely. The Charge Nurse came in, talked a lot, then was able to start an IV in my left hand. It hurt badly and this triggered another, less violent convulsive episode. By this time our personal ice pack was melted so the Charge Nurse applied a bag of ice bag over my left hand. Eventually I stopped seizing and crying. The nurse examiner tried to start the test while I was still shaking. I politely declined. He waited. Finally it was time to begin.

Jason RN, elevated the table to 80 degrees. Within about 5 minutes I started to feel lightheaded. My head was swirling inside in a clockwise direction that seemed to be from about the 2:00 position on a clock face to the midnight position. My body didn’t move. I can’t recall exactly which symptom happened next but I do remember that the straps across my shins started to hurt badly. I was placing more of my body weight against them as my legs began to get weak. This feeling of weakness was like water being drained out of a bathtub: little by little in a steady stream my strength was going away, beginning with my lower extremities and working its way upwards.

A few tic zips re-emerged probably 15 minutes into the test. The hospital pillow provided no head and neck support whatsoever. By the grace of God I had anticipated this and brought a neck pillow with me which remained after their hard pillow had fallen off of the table. It remained in place as the tic attack ramped up to an intensity similar to that of the needlesticks although more intermittently than continuous at this point. I started to become afraid of where this thing was headed. I worked as hard as I could to stay calm and not to panic. My body was going into a crisis as the number of symptoms increased along with their severity: headache, burning in the tips of my toes, burning in the tips of my fingers, stomach ache, left-sided neck pain, increased ringing in my ears, feeling chilled and having difficulty breathing. Jason kept asking me how I was feeling but it was getting more and more difficult to speak. Then things got worse.

Eventually my legs became lifeless. It took a heroic effort to straighten or reposition them to alleviate the searing pain against my shins: could I turn my feet out so the pressure was more on the inside of my lower legs? I tried that. Then that hurt too. I had to wait before I could try again. I tried switching back and forth but my ability to do so was failing. Finally I conceded that my legs were going to be bruised no matter what I did so I had to pick a position and stick with it. I found that if I locked my knees together and turned my toes inward, some of the strap pulled against my calves and less on the bony surface of the tibia. With that problem solved I tried to focus on my breathing. It seemed too shallow. Hmmm. What is going on? My body was slowly starting to slump forward like someone was pulling my head forward a quarter inch at a time on a cord. I could not stop it. Was I going to pass out?

Every 2 minutes or so, Jason asked me a question to see if I was still awake. Or maybe alive? My body continued to bend forward like a large sack of flour as my world felt like it was going dim, dimmer still. Around this time I asked how much time was left, we were past the halfway point, yet time had started to stand still. My hunkering down for the duration of the test changed to wondering if I would pass out like I had in bed so many times after bad episodes. When those happen I don’t remember falling asleep. The lights just go out and I wake up hours later with no memory of dreaming, just pain everywhere from head to toe. So if I wasn’t going to pass out this time maybe I could fall asleep?

I tried to let myself go. I was terrified. I was crying. The tears burned on my face. Hair brushing against the side of my cheeks felt itchy-burny. It was all I could do to raise my right arm to wipe my face with my sleeve or move the hair scratching my face to stop the annoyance, the irritating sensations of anything touching my face. And then it was nearly impossible to breathe with the strap cutting underneath my ribs, restricting my diaphragm. I kept saying that I couldn’t breathe. “It’s hard to breathe.” The test continued. “How much time left?” I mumbled. I don’t remember the answer. My husband Steve later confirmed the feeling I had that the left side of my faced was drooping. My tongue felt thick and I couldn’t move it to speak very well. It’s as if the lights were going out on my life. I was not going to faint as can happen with this test. I was going to die.

That’s when my thoughts turned to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, dying on a cross for my salvation. In that moment I got a tiny view into His suffering at Calvary. Crucifixion was designed for maximum suffering until the convicted person died of asphyxiation. The convict would push up on his feet against the wood footplate to catch a gasp of air; in doing so this sent lightening bolts of fiery pain through the body from the nails piercing the nerves and tendons of the feet and hands that bore the weight of his entire body. The body would sag down then perhaps the head would hang as the person longed for death to end the most gruesome misery imaginable. But hanging one’s head obstructed the airway. There was no relief to be found. And our Lord did this for me. The guards pierced His side to make sure Jesus was dead. Through it all, Jesus declined the gall herb offered to ease his pain. He endured it all with a clear mind in a body already beaten and shredded beyond recognition before He was crucified! And then He finished the work of the Cross when He rose again on Easter Sunday. He overcame death and provided a path for all believers to receive eternal life, to be free one day of all suffering and consequences of sin in this fallen world.

cross, calvary, testimony, hospital test, Christian woman, chronic illness, endurance

My recognizing my need for a Savior and accepting His sacrifice years ago thus hath provided a way for me to endure my suffering on that Monday at the hospital. Whether I was going to die, or pass out, or make it to the end of the test fully awake and aware of my surroundings, I was going to be walking with my Jesus through it all. He was there with me in that moment when I simply could not breathe anymore and when the table finally lowered me to safety. In a matter of seconds, the test was over. I endured the TTT and got what I was supposed to understand about my suffering that is coming up on 9 years. Also finally, a medical test actually captured with objective data the hell that I have endured. My heart rate did increase and blood pressure drop although not extremely so. I had marked symptoms. I believe that it was a positive test even though I did not faint. For some reason the Lord kept me awake hanging there as far over as the straps would allow without fainting or dying. In my mind I was just about gone for good. In the Lord’s will, I made it through the most difficult of hundreds of tests in my lifetime.

But it wasn’t over yet. As soon as I was level, my body exploded into the most violent of convulsing that would happen that afternoon matched with gutteral screams, hysterical crying, and gasps for air. I held on for dear life. The episode continued for the next 90 minutes or so while I pleaded with the nurse to call the cardiologist to order IV fluids then check my blood sugar: 76. Thirty minutes into the non-stop convulsing, the infusion started and began to calm me down; it took a snack bar plus another 30 minutes before they would stop completely. I was a beaten puppy, so very broken and battered by the time it was over. The 90-minute infusion restored me enough to speak coherently and walk to the bathroom then later into our truck under my own power, albeit weakly. Over the next 2 days I stabilized. I still feel “buzzed” 3 days after the TTT. I’m also irritated that I don’t have my test results yet as promised. Sigh. That’s healthcare these days. I found out that Jason, RN had only done 10 of these tests since he was transferred to the Heart Institute from ICU a month prior. He was very nice. Regardless, I doubt he should have left me hanging there gasping for air, completely slumped over and hanging from the straps of the tilt table for several minutes. The goal is not to traumatize and torture the patient! I am still horrified by what I endured. I’ve had numerous bouts of crying as my mind flashed back to the ordeal, slowly emerging from a state of shock.

So if you found this blog after Googling “Tilt Table Test” well what can I say? This is probably one of the worst stories out there so don’t worry about it. Yours will very likely be fine. I didn’t vomit and that is good. The TTT results will very likely answer some important questions about my condition, maybe even point the Doctors to a treatment plan that will stop the daily convulsive episodes once and for all. The role of the autonomic nervous system in non-epileptic seizures has never been more clear for me as I start to benefit from targeted vagus nerve stimulation techniques and tools. Even the TMJ/trigeminal nerve interventions are related. Virtually everything I have done to date to try and get well has yielded valuable information if not improvements and personal growth. I have never felt closer to the loves in my life which is valuable indeed. My Stevers continues to be my hero through it all. In the end, the Lord will not waste any of our suffering, joys, or sorrows in His wondrous plans for our lives. Hang on, Gentle Reader. Hang on to that Cross! JJ

The Sauna I Once Loved

Like an old lover that must fade into the background of new life

My sauna must go forth to its new owner, leaving me FIR behind.

She needs it to arrest the cancer in her own body and that of her Mom,

Imagine that: a generational curse that threatens the life between them.

I am happy to pass to them this box of promise, of hope

Bringing them much relief as the toxins melt away with the wavelengths of light.

As for me I am melancholy this day, this night

For I thought I would fare better for the investment therein.

The last of my inheritance was spent the year the Sunlighten entered our home

Hopeful with the promise of a cure from what all ailed me at the time: at first, it was great.

The warmth was undeniable especially on cold Indiana nights

When nothing else would do . . . no nothing else at all.

But did it help purge the alleged chronic Lyme embedded deep within

The bacterium, the viruses, the fungal creatures claimed on imperfect tests?

I may never know as the onslaught hath continued from the rigors of this life

From living in a fallen world hell-bent on our demise, our redemption one day for us all.

Just don’t see how this tool that I once loved, held so much promise

Is worth holding onto longer when all it collects is dust in our living room now.

So onto the next thing I shall be: from the consult of last week to the specialist to come

When in the meantime I know it’s the Lord that is my Great Physician and yours:

The object of my greatest love indeed.

SOLD!!!

Prayer Request

Gathering medical records and other documents, making travel arrangements that accommodate my sensitivities, and putting together a timeline of the serious illness I have been battling for 8 1/2 years has been an emotional process for me. Just surviving to this day has been a traumatic experience. The blessings are there too yet not as clear right now with the hundreds of sheets of medical records behind me as I type this post.

I have endured so many dead ends and dashed dreams for recovery, physical damage from thousands of convulsive episodes, tens and tens of thousands of out-of-pocket expenses, and so many losses on every front of our lives. One truth is clear that I would not have survived this far without my faith in our Lord, Jesus Christ. He was my Rock when my breathing would not start in the darkness of night or my legs would not move to get me to the bathroom. Both my beloved Steve and my Lord carried me through it all to this moment in time.

Regardless of what has gone before us, Steve and I are pressing forward, hopeful for a good result at an upcoming consultation at the Mayo Clinic. For the first time since the onset of this serious illness, I get to see one of the top Doctors in neuroimmunology at THE top medical facility in the country. That is humbling. I am grateful.

Now is the time to pray for a cure to the daily convulsive episodes. Lord willing, I will be well! Thank you for your love and support, Gentle Reader. Love to you, JJ

Countdown to Mayo

I’m kind of freaking out over here. No really. You would think I was preparing to go for the biggest medical evaluation of these 8 1/2 years battling a serious illness, or something. Well maybe I am!

The little city that comprises Mayo Clinic: most buildings and surrounding businesses are connected via the underground Subway Level. You may never have to go outside in the cold!

Some of my medical conditions have flared a bit lately, requiring medication and distracting me from my primary goal at the moment: preparing for a consultation at the famous Mayo Clinic. I have SIX medical appointments this week alone, FOUR next week! Gratefully, the locations of these appointments have put me in the proximity of places from which I need to gather medical records; one of them proved to be timely in addressing the flare-up of an acute, stress-related condition: shingles! Thank the Lord I caught that one early! Ugh. And just about everything related to my care will have been updated by the time we leave for Rochester, Minnesota: the biggest snow belt of the United States of America! Not that I am stressing over that one as well? Maybe so.

My beloved is both helping and complicating the process with his energetic ideas, last-minute plans, and on again/off again pursuit of a better, new-used truck. Turns out we are letting the last one go for now. Yay! There are always extra expenses and things to do when you make a major purchase. Now is not the best time for us to buy a truck! We really need to think through this purchase a little more, focus on our trip to the “Mayos,” and get some other proverbial ducks in a row. Steve will still be off working hard and doing his various activities in the meantime before we leave . . . seeya for dinner or at bedtime when you return home my love. (Yes, we still have a very late household.)

What’s left to do:

  • Receive the medical records from the Doctor and 2 hospitals I have visited the most.
  • Organize and condense hundreds of pages of test results into about 50 pages, labeled in some meaningful way.
  • Confirm arrangements with the hotel who promises NOT to use fragranced products in our room prior to our arrival. So bummed that an Airnb didn’t work out nor the Serenity House Network.
  • Pack WARM clothing, dog food, new dog medications, numerous supplements and medications for me, and enough food to get us through the first few days in the northern tundra. Gratefully our hotel room will have a kitchenette; it’s too frigid for our usual mode of camping via our “mobile clean room.” Most important on the packing list of my beloved: cross-country skis! I may take my snowshoes as well.
  • All the other stuff you do when away from home like laundry, placing he mail on hold, watching the weather here to have the snow shoveled when we are away, watching the weather there to confirm suitable road conditions, and the like. Should be less work than camping for sure!

While this process is exceedingly stressful when still battling a serious illness with bad convulsive episodes virtually every day, I am exceedingly grateful for the opportunity to got to the Mayo Clinic. Thank you Lord! It’s rated the best hospital in America! The top Doctors in the area of autoimmunity and neuroimmunology conduct research and see patients at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. I have heard first-hand from some of my new Doctor’s patients and they state that he provides excellent care. Yay!

I am also glad that I did not go the Mayos 3 years ago when I was looking for new answers to troubling medical questions. Since then, we have further tested and treated for Chronic Lyme disease, lowered my burden of heavy metals, healed from various dental procedures and treatments, investigated numerous other potential infections, addressed/ongoing orthopedic issues, completed a comprehensive cardiac work-up, and even received genetic testing and coaching. It’s been a busy 3 years! All of these conditions could have explained this horrible illness but they did not. Good news: I can now tolerate more of the supplements and medications that are needed to re-build my health (which was impossible to do without triggering convulsive episodes in the past).

My prayer has always been that something of value would come from over 8 years of daily struggle. The Lord has been faithful to see us through even the darkest hours where demonic influences were palpable, suffering greater than I can even describe. Both Steve and I have been tested beyond what we thought we could ever bear yet the Lord has met us, sustained us, even carried us. There were sweet moments along the way that served to encourage us. We understand that others have been encouraged by our testimony as well. Yay God! Overall, these past 3 years preparing to go to the Mayo Clinic certainly were not wasted, that is for sure. It’s time to rally for a cure.

Let’s hope so, eh Gentle Reader? We are hopeful again! JJ

A Plausible Case

As you may have read in the About Julie page of this blogsite, I treated for Chronic Lyme Disease early in the four years that I have been battling serious illness.  I had not recovered my health four months after a bout with viral hepatitis and our Family Practice Physician convinced me and Steve that latent Lyme disease was keeping me sick.  Then the story changed a few times . . .

Treatment for Lyme disease, Candida, mold exposure, mercury toxicity, gut parasites, and infected root-canaled teeth has still left me with the following symptoms four years later:

  • Hours of daily convulsive episodes, every single day
  • Headaches
  • Painful shoulders, forearms, hips, neck, jaw, and more
  • Ringing in my ears
  • Multiple severe chemical, mold, and sound/light sensitivities
  • Significant nutritional and hormonal deficiencies
  • Fatigue
  • Episodic cognitive and emotional setbacks
  • Periodic night terrors, nightmares, waking terrors
  • Weakness and deconditioning
  • Air hunger and chest compression symptoms
  • Neuropathies
  • Severely disrupted sleep/wake cycle
  • Food sensitivities despite a restricted diet
  • Gut dysbiosis
  • Inability to consistently perform activities of daily living or work
  • Social isolation
  • Intolerance to treatment

So in other words, my life is kinda hellish a lot of the time!  Today was no exception.  Then right in the middle of the trauma there were tender encounters with the sweetest man on the face of the earth:  my Stevers.  We talked in between seizure attack episodes, he provided care when I could not move, and we made the most of a low-key day.  It was the “same story, different day” around here.  And something else happened too:  I may have discovered another piece of this wretched illness mystery:  Latent Lyme Disease can affect the gut which in turn can contribute to neurological complications much like the ones that have eluded all of our attempts at recovery.

No, it’s not systemic Candida as I suspected when I wrote my last Treatment Update.  It’s called “Bell’s Palsy of the Gut,” a term coined by Lyme Literate Medical Doctor (LLMD) Virginia T. Sherr.  “Gastrointestinal Lyme disease may cause gut paralysis and a wide range of diverse GI symptoms with the underlying etiology likewise missed by physicians,” states Dr. Sherr in the April 2006 issue of Practical Gastroenterology (p. 74).  There are tests that can be performed to determine the presence of Borrelia burgdorferi along with other microbial pathogens  transferred in tick saliva after a bite.  In two weeks I will have a diagnostic procedure in which these tests could also be performed.  Whoa Lord.  Is that why I felt led to add an anti-microbial to my anemic treatment plan?

God is good.  All the time.  God is good.  Today I felt led to add back a probiotic that I actually was able to tolerate this time.  The new information about Lyme disease may explain the increasing gut inflammation this past year and my supremely negative response to a trial of a far-infrared light treatment to my abdomen.  Or to any abdominal exam.  Or to physical therapy to the hip flexors in the lower part of the abdominal wall.  Or to certain foods.  At any rate, a new door has opened and there are new possibilities for getting well.  Perhaps it is time to re-visit the diagnosis of Lyme disease.

Stay tuned.  This exquisitely wild roller coaster ride of recovery from serious illness is about to reach a new station.  In the meantime, please pass a spoon and 1/2 of a carton of Siggis plain, grass-fed, organic and Icelandic yogurt.  We’re going to get this thing right or keep screaming all the way to the bottom of the next hill until we do!  (I told you that I worked in an amusement park one summer didn’t I?  Yeah, Cedar Point is really cool!)

Cedar Point gatekeeper_wallpaper