#the good news is my small intestine is in remission | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jenniez-tv · 2 years ago

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Well my streak is gone...

A lot of things has happened in the past 2.5 weeks. I got the PET scan done where they inject glucose into your body to see which parts of your body light up. Lighting up means bad/tumor stuff because it feeds. The PET scan showed that there is actually 2 masses instead of 1, along with multiple lymph nodes and my anastomosis (where the connected my rectum to my small intestine). So that this was more bad news and pretty much definitely meant that it could not be the desmoid tumor but cancer.

I then got my sigmoidoscopy, endoscopy (which I get yearly) and endoscopic ultrasound guided needle biopsy (to try to get a sample of the mass). They removed 7 polyps but the doctor said he was unable to find the mass so he just took a sample of the tissue that was where it was supposed to be. To me and my doctors, it seemed like good news in the sense that it wasn’t touching the anastomosis and I wouldn't need to remove the rest of my rectum and need a ileostomy bag.

I went to see an urologist about the mass putting pressure and narrowing my ureter to my left kidney. A stent procedure was scheduled along with a nuclear renal scan to see the how bad the block was. My right kidney was definitely compensating well (for now). It was 84% right side and 16% left =x, I also scheduled to get another biopsy done a different way to try to get a sample of the mass.

While waiting for my scheduled procedures, my oncologist gave me a call around 8:30pm one day.. never a good sign.., She said that the biopsy they tested just because turned out to be cancer.. possible the mass was pressing against it and/or it just spread to have cells on the anastomosis.. I was in completely and utter fucking shock. I was NOT expecting this answer, even though I knew the masses in my left pelvic area was. So what this means is that I HAVE STAGE 4 CANCER AGAIN. I told everyone that I wasn’t going to do this all over again.. and that I definitely didn’t want a ileostomy bag... I just don’t have the strength and energy to..

My 2nd biopsy was cancelled but I still had my kidney to worry about. There was a possibility that the mass would be too large/hard/whatever for them to push the stent through without rupture. If that was the case, I would have to get yet another procedure and pee out of a bag through a bag on my body.. I just got the stent placed yesterday afternoon and thank goodness they were able to get it through. I definitely can feel it travel all the way up my body, and there is a pressure and discomfort as well as some spotting (bleeding) and burning while peeing -_-. They say me feeling the stent all the way up is just from the procedure and that once I heel shouldn’t feel it like that. However, just because the stent placement was successful doesnt mean that it opened the ureter up enough so I have to schedule another nuclear renal scan in 2 weeks to see if it did anything. I am really hoping it does because I don’t need my kidneys to fuck up and need dialysis or some shit.

I have an appointment next week to speak with the specialists who did my HIPEC surgery to see what they think is the best treatment plan and go from there.. I am trying to keep my options opened until I hear from everyone but I don’t want to do it all again.. the chemo fucking sucked, the HIPEC surgery was the worse fucking feeling in the world and of course I had complications and got septic from it.. Even till this day I am getting PT on my abdominal muscles because they separated and can’t stand straight without feeling tightness and pulling on the scar tissue. If I were to get this surgery again it will only be even worse off.. People think that because everything is healed and that I look healthy means I am fine... but I am not. What people don’t realize is all the AFTER shit is what is the hardest. I went into some detail in the prior post about this and may say more later but as of now I just wanted everyone to know that my fucking streak of being in remission is gone - only lasted 2.5 years and that I don’t know if I want to go through this all again..

#colon cancer #cancer #fuck cancer #fml

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whatscanon-arch · 4 years ago

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PLEASE NOTE : these headcanons are based on my own interpretation of lucille, including headcanons i have established with @chrmatiica regarding lucille’s relationship with negan. canon has been altered to fit our particular versions of these characters. however, they do remain imperfect and will have flaws that will not be erased, as any character should stand.

lucille met her future husband when she was hired at the high school he also taught at. she taught ap english literature. it was hard to ignore his advances, especially with how cute and charming he was. from the get go, she was smitten.

eighteen months before the rise of the apocalypse, lucille who was in normally impeccable health, began experiencing troubling symptoms. it started with persistent nausea and rapidly led to abdominal pain that was so severe that there were days that were nearly impossible to get out of bed. she was diagnosed with stage two pancreatic cancer at a check up, which completely rocked their worlds.

a few months later, she underwent a whipple procedure that removed half of her pancreas, part of her small intestine, and her gall bladder. after the successful surgery, she went through several months of chemotherapy and radiation to remove the final bits of cancer. six months before the apocalypse, she was deemed completely cancer free and in remission.

she has good days and bad days still, but most of that stems from the anxiety and depression that remains from her previous cancer diagnosis. a stitch in her side can leave her paranoid, and there are days that she struggles to face due to the unknown. the first months of the apocalypse were a hard hit on these conditions.

she and negan made it on their own for the first few months, and she wanted so desperately to believe that this was temporary. the military would take care of the issue and they would figure out a “ new normal “ in the midst of this chaos. however, as the days turned into months, her hope waned.

her first human kill was a man that had tried to break into their house to loot them. crime had become an all time high, and despite their best efforts to turn their home into a safe bunker, it still wasn’t enough. lucille shot the man who had a knife to negan’s throat with the gun from her side of the nightstand, a pistol he had gifted her many years ago. she remembers rolling her eyes at it and half-heartedly joining him at the shooting range to learn how to shoot it. she had never expected to actually practice the skill, but she thanks her lucky stars for that day.

after the break in, negan knew that they needed more help, so once she was back in her right mind, she helped him get in touch with their coworkers, who became the first of the saviors. they protected their community until it was overtaken. then, with the remainders, they continued and tried to grown their group, knowing survival meant numbers on their side. they faced a lot of strife as a group –– whether it was an external or internal betrayal.

lucille stands firmly by negan’s side as he is the natural leader of the saviors. when they cross paths with another group, they have three choices ––– join their cause, quietly pass by, or face the wrath of the saviors. after their losses, the saviors are not to be fucked with. ( note : storm & i have both agreed to alter the polygamy aspect of the saviors, instead focusing on negan’s leadership/respect as well as tension among some of his followers in alternate methods. )

the plot line where negan kills glenn and abraham to send a message to rick still stands. in retaliation, rick and maggie lead a movement to raid the saviors, which results in kidnapping lucille. an eye for an eye, right?

#lucille / * 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 .#⟨ NEGAN & LUCILLE ⟩ / * 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 .#( headcanon ) / * bring them to life .#illness //#anxiety //#depression //#violence //#death //

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colitisandthesigns17 · 5 years ago

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May 1, 2020

Hi my assholes!! I’m sorry for leaving you for a little while. But I’m sure you forgive me!! Okay so, after having a conversation with my older cousin who had colitis. I decided it’s best to just be blunt and tell you guys what we go through! And then I’ll go into questions that I have that I haven’t answered from people! I’m so sorry by the way 😬 then I’ll go into a very real story of mine, that’ll illustrate the realities of this disease. Always gotta have story time for you assholes!!

So my assholes. When I was talking to my cousin, we talked about how we both HATE that in order to survive in social situations, we can’t eat. Unless we are in an extremely safe and comfortable situation. The terrible thing about colitis is the realities of having to plan what you’re going to eat and when!! So for me, if I know I’m going to hang out with friends at the beach all day, I’ll have something small like maybe a Greek yogurt and banana, like 3 hours before hand, because otherwise if I have a burger and sit on the beach, that sand won’t be sand anymore, it’ll be straight poop!!!! When I tell you guys this story today, you might laugh but it was actually very sad and I actually am still dealing with my anxiety of taking away a great time from two very important people to me, but anyways!!! So another thing, if I am going to go say to hang out with friends, (which assholes, I don’t do often) but if I do, I have to make sure that I eat very bland and very light. Because Unfortunately if I try something new and my colitis gets its pitchfork from hell and starts poking at my intestines and rectum, well I’ll be on the toilet the rest of the night, tumbled over in pain. A good point my cousin pointed out was how we literally as people with colitis, have to not eat to be happiest! Now, does that mean we are unhealthy? No. Do we have an eating disorder? No. Are we weird? No. We just know/have an awareness about our bodies that we have to have due to the repercussions that come from our eating. Now, when I say don’t eat, yes very bluntly, sometimes I don’t eat, or i currently reside in a place where I’m privileged enough to go to a Sprouts or a Whole Foods to get a smoothie. So instead of solid food, I consume a smoothie. A smoothie that has no red dye or coloring!!! This is important because if I did consume or do consume, even hot sauce in soup, or in my nice and yummy top ramen, I will see the red in my poop and may confuse it for a flare, when in actuality I might not be in one. That’s why I stay away from cranberries, tomatoes, red bell pepper, hot sauce ( I try but 😬), and whatever is red!!!! At any rate my lovely clean assholes, it is important to understand that if you have a friend with colitis, to be kind and patient, because sometimes it’s not them talking it’s their anxiety and the desire to be normal. So always be kind and loving to these special humans, with asshole intestines and rectums!!!

So question time,

“Are you currently in a flare?”

I am currently getting out a two week flare, we are going to try and beat our previous record of 4.5 months of remission! 💪🏽

“What medicine do you take?”

Well asshole, I tried Canasa but it wasn’t for me, and I saw negative effects. I currently am holistic, and I’d be very selfish to say that was all on my own merit. But someone very close to me did all the research and helped me to get a holistic, bland diet, place. Yes I have fun here and there, especially as I get older I try and be socially more active then I have and engage in wine here and there, but it’s on my terms and eight having adopted a bland diet, it helps ease my anxiety if ever set on. So there you go!

“Whats a typical day of eating?”

Well I will say, I’m not a breakfast person unless it’s on the weekends and I can get fancy. But I’ll have a Greek yogurt i like the almond coco loco, if not a banana, and lately I’ve been doing avocado with some salt. Sounds weird, but it keeps it bland and I chug a bottle of water, to give me that full feeling, plus water can’t hurt you so duh. Then I do a salad for lunch, which there’s this sunflower crunch salad that I’ve been addicted to, and then for dinner fish is my best friend these days, I don’t eat read meat, and then with veggies, I stay away from potatoes and anything that might make me bloated because that will also add onto my flare starting. :)

That’s enough questions I think, because I get excited and rant 😬

Story time my assholes!!

Soooooo guys!!! This is a very real story and I’ve never shared this story with anyone but the two people I was with this night. So I am applauding my vulnerability with this one. So me, my sister, and Peter Pan as I call this special soul, we went to a concert!!! And it’s an artist that we all love so much and has impacted us in different ways, different parts of our lives. We are stoked right!! Mind you we are so stoked we go to get In N out burger before hand to catch up, and just get ready for a great night. Nowwww let me tell you MISTAKE FOR COLITIS BABY OVER HERE!! Anyways, feeling good, jamming out on the way to the concert, we get in side and there’s a bunch of people and so we land up pretty close to stage which we wanted! When we get there, and this mosh pit stuff starts happening, I get sick....! I feel my butt about to explode and I feel my stomach about to throw up. So I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, and I did poop my brains out while having colitis cramps up the yin yang and I did throw up but I lied and said I didn’t. That was the second time I had pooped my brains out and throw up in a few months, and doctors had already been waiting for my to get another colonoscopy. So after that I threw up, and then I got some water from the bar and sat by the bar to watch the concert on the TVs. And I felt bad because they were so concerned that they left the place by the stage to move to where i could be by the wall so I could breathe and sit. This isn’t a story for you to be like awww wow that’s so sad, it’s to show the realities of if you don’t take care of your colitis or you think you’re invincible and the rules don’t Apply to you, your intestines and rectum might just come up and humble you! Colitis teaches me a lot when I listen, when I don’t, life gets interesting 🙄I shall take these two important people in my life back to this concert and let them experience it fully, and I’ve promised myself that and I will make it happen. But that’s just me and my colitis reality story!!!

Have a good day my assholes and be great souls!!

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runfast-runfar · 5 years ago

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A little update.

Hey guys (or anyone who still checks this blog lol)

2.27.2020

I have been pretty MIA lately because a lot has been going on, but I figured a quick update was due.

- I’m in my last semester at my college before transferring next year. I got in to my top choice school last week so I know where I will be going, which is amazing, rationally I know that, but I am terrified and sad and just really low about leaving my community college I am at. I have THE best support system here, friends, and a couple teachers whom I LOVE. So it’s been hard.

- My cat thea is sick, and that has been unbearably difficult. She began vomiting back in december once a week or so, and it escalated to her vomiting multiple times a day, unable to keep food down. After 5 vet visits, and about $1,200 of testing, she most likely has GI lymphoma. They are currently basing that diagnosis on intestinal markers and an enlarged GI tract, but those could also be indicators of FIP, which would be a much more grim diagnosis. I never thought I’d say “so here’s hoping she ~just~ has lymphoma...” and yet, here we are. An ultrasound and a second set of GI markers are on the book to solidify the speculations of her potential diagnosis’, but it’s been really, really hard.

- I have to give away all her food since she’s now on a very strict, special diet, and then she can’t play with any toys that have feathers or small parts she could swallow bc she can’t be operated on while taking prednisone for the lymphoma, so I brought two bags of food and toys for a teacher of mine who has a cat who said she could take that stuff off my hands for me. She was incredibly sweet and said she’ll keep the toys and if/when I ever want or need any back either for thea herself if she goes into remission, or if worst comes to worst and she’s not around but I want something of hers, she’ll have it all.

- Last thursday I was doing laundry and bent over to grab some clothes and did something to my back: either pinched a nerve or pulled a muscle, or caused a back spasm, and so I was in bed unable to move for two days. I literally had to crawl to the bathroom (lol a low moment for me hah), it got a bit better, then got worse on monday/tuesday, and today is a bit better. I currently have a heating pad on my back at school which helps. That was just the cherry on top of an EXTREMELY shitty month.

- The only semi good news I feel like I’ve gotten this year so far is my brother had his most recent MRI and it showed the soft tissue mass in his brain is still not malignant. It did change in width slightly but that news could have been worse. Definitely could have been better, but thinking on the bright side here.

- I know there’s a lot of good in the world and that despite the hard, I have a lot to be grateful and thankful for, but finding that lately has been a challenge. Especially because my brother and Thea are my two favorite “things” in the world. My brother’s health is okay, I mean he’s not dying, but we are cautious that having any sort of growth is dangerous, and has caused him problems before so could again. But thea, no matter what she her final diagnosis is: whether it is lymphoma or FIP both aren’t curable. FIP would be the worse of the two, but both have roads to expiration dates she’d be facing. And that kills me. I have never had a cat like her. I know everyone says that, “my cat is so special...” but she is. She is more of a dog. She greets me at the door everyday. She sleeps snuggled up next to my face every night. She goes on walks around the neighborhood with me on her leash. She watches movies cuddled up in my lap with me... she is my shadow. I literally can’t even go to the bathroom without her following one step behind me. I love her honestly more than any human. And it kills me that I may have only gotten to get 2.5 years with her.

But I am trying to stay in the moment with her, give her all the love and care I can, and make sure she knows how insanely loved she is.

#sorry this is a depressing update #but it is what it is #and that is okay #I mean it's not #but it will be okay eventually #college #transfer #history major #life #Thea #my pet #my whole world #love that princess more than life itself #vegan

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deans-baby-momma · 7 years ago

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The Padackles Link-Chapter 7

Chapter 6 or Catch up with my Masterlist

Summary: Drea tells the Ackles about her past. How will they respond?

Warnings: talk of car accident; death of a parent; death of a spouse

“I’m a widow.”

This is the first time those words had ever crossed my lips.

I’m a widow. I’m almost 24 years old and I am a widow. That sounded so foreign to me. HOw can someone so young be dealt with this future. No matter where I go in life, what I do, I will always be a widow. I will never get used to those three words. Or the melancholy looks that were bestowed upon me when they are spoken.

Those melancholy looks are exactly what I am receiving right now. Jensen and Danneel Ackles look at me with sorrowful, remorseful gazes. The anguish and grief on their faces is staggering.

“I’m so sorry, Drea,” Dani says, reaching across the table to take my hand. “We had no idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the address that Dani had given me, I sit in my vehicle, mentally and emotionally preparing myself for the conversation about to take place. My new friends have no idea what I am about to tell them. They have no idea that my young life, the one that had really just begun, was ripped from me in the blink of an eye. With one too many sips of a drink, the future I had dreamt would never come to fruition. I will myself the energy to step out of the car and walk into their home. I have to do this. My presence with them at a stupid party has already caused them trouble. Their marriage was suffering because Dani had briefly held my hand and someone snapped a photo. How stupid is that!

Dani opens the door as soon as I make it to the top step of the patio. She welcomes me with a hug but it doesn’t calm my nerves. The simple move actually causes my anxiety to heighten. But I know this needs to be done before those silly gossip magazines and gossip entertainment programs that are all the rage right now digs the information up and work it to their agenda. Other people, and the truth, be damned!

“Drea!” Dani exclaims, smiling brightly. “It is so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too Dani.” I paste a smile on my face, hoping it is believable.

“C’mon in. Jensen is firing up the grill. Figures we could eat and then talk. That sound okay?”

“Sure. I could eat,” I lie. The knots in my stomach and the lump forming in my throat aren’t going to let my body have any comfort.

The burgers were cooked to perfection and Dani had every type of condiment known but I just couldn’t enjoy the food. I took small bites of my sandwich and chewed until the morsels were basically non-existent before swallowing. The beer Jensen sat in front of me aided in the consumption. I watched as they devoured their food, waiting with bated breath to tell my story.

“I’m a widow.”

The melancholy looks I am receive from them are expected. As are the sorrowful, remorseful gazes; the anguish and grief on their faces is staggering.

“I’m so sorry, Drea,” Dani says, reaching across the table to take my hand. “We had no idea.”

“Why would you?” I say. “I was just some helpless person on the side of the road that you two took pity on.” “Don’t say that,” Dani criticizes. “You, Drea, were not and are not helpless. You’ve been dealt a shitty hand. But, you and I have talked these past weeks everyday and I know you are not helpless.”

“Thanks,” I smile at her. “I guess I just am down on myself because I never pictured my life to be like this.” Jensen stands up and walks around the table to me. He pulls me up and embraces me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Drea. But Dee and I are both here for you. Whatever you need. Believe that, okay? “ He lets go and I look up into his face. I can see the sincerity in his eyes.

“Do you mind if I ask to tell us about him,” Dani cautiously asks.

“His name was Chad; Chad Tyler Murphy. He was just 23 when he was on his way home and a drunk driver passed over the median and hit him head-on. They said the collision killed him on impact.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” Dani says.

“Yes, Chad and I began dating when we were 15 years old. He was my everything from almost the beginning. It was just me and my mom. My mom got sick when I was 12, cancer. She was diagnosed after finding unusual looking spots on her arms and legs. It was in the early stages but the doctor wanted to try and get ahead of it so he immediately started her on treatments and medicine. Mom took more pills in a day than I’d ever seen. She was doing really well too. The day after my 14th birthday, we got the news that she was in remission. We celebrated by going to the movies and eating as much junk food as we could. It was a great day!” By this time, my cheeks are painted with tears. Jensen hands me a box of tissues and I dab at the moisture. “One day about six months later, I wake up to Mom sick. She’s bent over the toilet, vomiting. The bowl is splattered with blood. I rush her to the emergency room and hours later they tell us that between the therapies and the drugs she had been taken her intestines and stomach were destroyed. She died in surgery, trying to fix a hole in her lower intestines.”

“Oh god, Drea!” Dani has now joined me in the weeping. “You were 14 when you lost your mother? Did you have other family members there with you? Friends?”

“No one. Never knew my father. Mom said he knew about me but skipped town when she was six months pregnant. Guess he didn’t want me. It was just me and Mom. I was alone in the waiting room when the doctor informed me that my mother had passed. Someone called a counselor in and social services showed up and took me to a kids’ home. That’s where I met Chad. He was a ward of the state also. His dad had abused his mom and Chad had witnessed his dad killing his mom and his dad is in prison, serving life.

“He befriended me almost immediately and we became close. We hung out every day after school and on the weekends we had movie days and would just lounge around. He held me as I cried for my mom and I held him as he cried, telling me what he had seen and heard as his dad beat the life out of his mom. On my 15th birthday, he bought me a cake and a present. This little locket,” I pull the locket away from my neck and show them. It just a little silver oval-shaped locket but it’s empty. “We didn’t have any pictures to put in it but that didn’t matter to me. It was special because my best friend gave it to me. That might we snuck out onto the roof of the building and was stargazing. He told me he loved me, he was in love with me. I gave him my virginity that night and we never looked back.”

Tears are once again streaming down my face so I grab another tissue to brush them away. Dani does the same. I dry my face as well as I can and continue.

“Chad and I were together. When we were both 18 we moved into our own apartment. Life was hard but we endured. He got a job at a local engineering agency and I was working as a clerk at the grocery store down the street. We were happy. We started saving as much as we could. We both wanted a big family. Kids, at least 4. When I turned 20, I took a home pregnancy test. It was positive. We were excited. We got married a week after that. Nothing fancy, just a justice of the peace. I went to my doctor’s appointment only to find out that it had been a false positive. Chad had had to work and couldn't go with me. I told him that evening and we both cried.”

“ Oh, sweetie! That had to have been devastating,” Dee said. “I can’t imagine thinking I was pregnant and finding out different,” she said, looking over at her husband. Jensen grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.

“We were heartbroken but getting through that together only made us stronger. We talked that night and both agreed we were going to get through this as one. That was not going to break us. And it didn’t. At first. But then Chad started working more and more. He was coming home late every night and even began working on some weekends. I thought he was having an affair. We actually fought about it. Then, the next day he comes home with a dozen roses and told me he had been working toward a promotion and had actually won it. I’d never felt so ashamed in my life. Here I had accused him of cheating and he had been working to better himself and us. His promotion took us to Georgia, where we moved into a 3 bedroom house that I had fallen in love with. The architecture, the flow, everything was exactly what I had always dreamed of us having.”

I stopped to take a drink of beer and collect my thoughts.

“I was 23 years old when the police knocked on my door to inform me that there had been an accident and my husband didn’t make it.”

Dani was full on crying, along with me, and I could see tears in Jensen’s eyes as I resumed.

“I was escorted to the hospital to rightly identify him. Something inside me broke seeing him laying there, lifeless on that metal slab. I went through the motions of identifying him, collecting his personal items, making funeral arrangements. I don’t remember much of the service, just the image of him laying in the casket as the preacher droned on. I couldn’t watch as they lowered him into the ground. I just walked away.”

A year later, I decided to sell everything and take the trip Chad and I had always discussed doing. Now I’m doing it alone. I sold the house, quit my job and just took off. I was three days into my journey when you two came upon me.”

“Good Lord, Drea!” Dani breathed out. “You went through all that, alone?” I nod at her question, not trusting my voice to actually work at the moment. Having to rehash all that had taken its toll on me.

Dani comes over and wraps both arms around me and hugs tightly. “I’m glad we found you.”

Chapter 8

The Padackles Link @xxdragonagequeenxx @darlingpeanut

#jensen ackles #daneel ackles #jared padalecki #genevieve padalecki #thepadackleslink #jensen x drea #jensen x ofc #jensen x danneel #daneel x ofc #daneel x drea

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heartyscoff · 4 years ago

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Moreover, 65 percent of participants said EverJay CBD Oil helped them reduce IBD symptoms as well as improve their quality of life. As such, researchers have demonstrated that EverJay CBD Oil Reviews can deliver measurable results and improvements in controlling Crohn’s disease symptoms. United European Gastroenterology conference, scientists found that CBD-rich cannabis can help reduce clinical remission for Crohn’s Disease sufferers by 50 percent after 8 weeks of use. Crohn’s disease is a painful type of IBS that affects the gastrointestinal tract, particularly the small intestine.

I am a carer for my Husband who has epilepsy we have tried so many different drugs and it always comes back worse, he also has poor sleep most nights. This has been going on for over 20yrs and i just want him to have better quality of life. I don’t want to go down the drug route as I have had bad experiences. I am interested in providing treatment for my mother whom has been experiencing chronic pain ,conventional doctors are unable to find the cause and just provide anti inflammatories when needed. A clinical study measured the efficacy of Medical Marijuana as a supplement to an opioid-based pain relief regimen.

Extract Labs make topical products such as creams that are intended to reduce soreness and inflammation following exercise or injury. Oral or smoked ingestion of EverJay CBD Oil seems to reduce stress and anxiety and may enhance your mood by activating the aforementioned serotonin receptors. Well, it’s not pot, weed, Mary Jane, grass, or whatever the kids call it these days. Most cannabidiol and CBs is sourced from hemp, the male plant of the cannabis sativaspecies, which contains mere trace amounts of tetrahydrocannabinol , the psychoactive ingredient that gets you high. With all the different products on the market, it’s remarkably easy to confuse CBD oil and hemp oil.

#EverJay CBD Oil #EverJay CBD Oil Reviews #EverJay CBD Hemp Oil

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kerrymcavoyphd · 5 years ago

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Grieving the Loss of the Pre-COVID-19 World

The good news is that we are all doing this together.

The other day I received a message from a friend that read: “I just needed to talk. To say these things to someone I know who gets it.” We hopped on a video call. Then, she began to cry. “Sorry, it’s all getting to be too much,” she said as she wiped away the tears. “I wish you were here. I could really use a hug.” Over the past few days, I’ve had this type of conversation several times. It’s becoming familiar as I’ve chatted online with friends. There’s been a shift in mood from anxiety to a pervasive sense of sadness. Many of us got word yesterday that our children would not be returning to school to finish out the year. Another massive blow on the heels of all the other changes we’ve made in recent weeks. Most of us now work from home, that is if we still have a job. We can’t gather in groups larger than ten. Doctors and dentists’ offices sit empty of patients in lieu of online medical visits, except for emergencies. Even the simplest of errands has required planning and preparation. This past week I grocery shopped wearing a surgical mask. I waited my turn to enter the local grocery store’s large interior since only a maximum of fifty people is allowed inside. Instead of a friendly handshake, the store’s employee greeted me at the main entrance with one pump of hand sanitizer and a wet wipe to cleanse the handle of my cart. I no longer recognize the new world. The initial feeling of novelty has worn off, replaced by fatigue and a longing to return to the familiarity of what once was. Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I want to click my heels together with hopes I can return to the life I had before the COVID-19 pandemic.

We’re grieving.

I recognize this new mood; it’s grief. We are collectively mourning the loss of the world we knew as we enter the uncharted territory of the world that has yet to become. I’m intimately familiar with this feeling. I’ve been here before. Five and a half years ago, I had big plans. As my youngest son entered his senior year of high school, my family and I sold our large home in the country and bought a lot closer to town. Together, my husband, Brad, and I poured over new house plans and looked at appliances and finish materials as we dreamed of being empty-nesters. Brad had eight more years before retirement. We could see the end in sight. We thought we would soon be able to focus on leisure activities and strengthening our marriage after surviving the crazy years of child rearing. We discussed trips we wanted to take, new hobbies we planned to pick up, and friendships we would prioritize. Brad’s face mirrored the excitement I felt as we discussed our future. That all changed in an instant. Brad ended up in the hospital for odd bouts of vomiting and nausea. We all thought it was nothing. Maybe Brad had caught the flu that had been going around. “Mr. McAvoy,” the doctor said as he rushed into the hospital room, “you have cancer.” He then pulled out a whiteboard that had been sitting in the corner and began to diagram in a crude sketch an outline of Brad’s GI system. “It’s a cancer of the duodenum, part of the small intestinal tract.” Five short months later. Brad died.

The intense pain that comes with loss

And with that diagnosis, life as I knew it ended. The new house, my private counseling practice, our retirement dreams, and my marriage. Suddenly over with no fanfare. No loud bang. It just disappeared. At first, the pain of loss was so intense I could barely breathe. For a while, I just existed. I waffled between tearfulness, rage, envy, and hopelessness. My therapist suggested I give this pain space — to make room for it purposefully. Her suggestion sounded crazy. I worried creating time for pain would worsen it. Despite my misgivings, I gave it a try. Each evening, I sat in my living room alone and listened to a gloomy piece of music. I held onto wads of tissues as the tears fell. At first, it hurt, but the deliberateness of this practice seemed to help. Surprisingly, the pain changed and eased in time. That’s where we, as a world, now exist — in this same spot of loss and unfamiliarity. All the well-known landmarks of our day-to-day existence have disappeared. The rhythms of life — kids’ school schedules, graduation parties, church gatherings, after work drinks, hanging out with friends at a baseball game — are all gone. What will replace it? We can’t answer that yet. It’s too soon. Something different, though. We will discover a “new normal,” but it won’t be the same. And someday, it might even feel good again. In the meantime, we’re here. Amid this transition between what once was and what will be. It’s a hard place because most of us have never done this before. There’s plenty of advice going around, though. Mediate, one friend suggested. Another surrounds herself with positive thoughts. Practice a daily habit of gratitude, I hear suggested from someone else. These are all great suggestions…when done at the right time. This is not that time. Right now we are suffering lots of losses. So many — big ones and small ones. And they all hurt. It hit me today that my sons’ Christmas gift of enjoying a weekend music festival as a family this fall probably won’t happen. That’s a minor loss, but I’m bummed. My oldest son is currently in remission from cancer. He decided to stop his chemotherapy this week in lieu of a stronger immune system. If his cancer returns, the losses will be beyond imagining. The thought of that terrifies me.

There are no shortcuts with grief

David Kessler, one of the foremost experts on loss, said in an interview with Brené Brown this week that there are no shortcuts in grief. We must feel the pain. He explained that the way we individually grieve is unique but it is emotional work we cannot avoid. “There no way around the pain. If you don’t feel it, you can’t heal it,” he stated. (Unlocking Us Podcast, David Kessler and Brené Brown on Grief and Finding Meaning) It is crucial we permit ourselves to be emotional. To miss what is gone. To be angry, scared, and sad. The only way to get to the other side of this pain is through it. The good news is that we got each other. I used to go to a support group for families of cancer patients. It helped to be with others facing the same tragedy. With COVID-19, we don’t need to find a support group because we have one another. We are all in it together. The anniversary of Brad’s death is fast approaching. It will have been five years ago in June. I no longer feel the same intense pain I felt right after he died. In its place are nostalgia, love, and gratitude. Someday that will also be true in regards to the pain we feel for the loss of the pre-COVID-19 world. But not today. Today, we are still reeling and hurting. And that’s okay. We won’t grieve forever, but we will for a while, and that is as it should be. It’s all part of the healing. JOIN MY EMAIL LIST FOR LATEST UPDATES!

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#COVID-19 #Grief #Loss #MentalHealth #Relationships

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jenniez-tv · 3 years ago

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My first 6th month check up...

So until the end of 2021, I have been getting blood work an CT scans every 3 months. I continued to get good results and stay free of any signs of recurrence. I also get my endoscopy and sigmoidoscopy as well as my thyroid checked every year (which is also due in a few weeks). I was as always super nervous, but not AS nervous as each outcome so far has been good news. As I waited for my doctor to talk about the results, my results showed up in my chart. I read it.. and I immediately panicked as it said that there was a a new pelvic soft tissue mass around the area of my sigmoid resection (where the connected what was left of my colon and my small intestine together). The CT results also show that my left kidney demonstrates marked hydroureteronephrosis, which is also new. The mass is pressing against my left ureter- the tube that connects my bladder to my left kidney. So, my left kidney is getting blocked.. This mass is big enough to freaking put pressure on it. A mass that did NOT show up at all 6 months ago... I called my aunt who thank god was working today and she came down to support me when I spoke with my doctor.. Now I have my full team of doctors discussing and trying to plan my next steps. First, I will be getting a PET scan on Friday. I will also be meeting the urologist on Tuesday and then getting a stent placed in my urethra so that my left kidney doesn’t continue to be compromised and get fked up permanently. Not quite sure yet which is the best approach of getting a biopsy.. as it is really deep down in my pelvis.. but needs to be done asap. I also need to get my scopes done to remove any new polyps from last year sooner than later. I am now freaking out that something has grown there too.. I’m now freaking out about everything.. Some of my doctors think its cancer related to my colon cancer since I have the genetic FAP.. others think it may be a desmoid tumor which is also something that people with FAP get. Its technically not cancerous, but can grow quickly and cause other issues such as mine right now. These things like to arise from surgical scars.. and my insides are full of that shit. Removing it if it is that only means there will be more scar tissue for potential regrowth of the tumor.

SO FOR A RECAP: - I HAVE A FUCKING NEW MASS THAT DID NOT SHOW UP 6 MONTHS AGO

-THE MASS IS BLOCKING MY URETHRA AND FKING UP MY LEFT KIDNEY FUNCTION WHICH COULD CAUSE PERMANENT DAMAGE IF LEFT UNTREATED.

-I HAVE TO NOW GET A PET SCAN, A STENT PLACED, AND A BIOPSY TO SEE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS.. WHICH IS PRETTY MUCH EITHER A DESMOID TUMOR OR CANCER RELATED TO MY FAP FROM MY GENETICS.

THERE ISN’T EVEN A GOOD OUTCOME TO THIS. ITS EITHER CHOICE A OR B WHICH IS BAD AND BAD/WORSE. I HAD 2.5 YEARS OF REMISSION AND NOW THAT I GRADUATED TO GETTING A SCAN EVERY 6 MONTHS AND GOT MY PORT FUCKING REMOVED THIS MASS FUCKING SHOWS UP.

I SIMPLY CANNOT DEAL WITH HAVING CANCER AGAIN.. THIS TIME MIGRATED TO MY FUCKING PELVIC AREA. IF IT IS CANCER WHO KNOWS WHAT THE HELL ITS GROWN ONTO SURROUNDING IT AND WHAT TISSUE/ORGANS I WILL NEED REMOVED THIS TIME. THERE IS JUST SIMPLY TOO MUCH UNKNOWN RIGHT NOW. I DIDN'T WANT TO VENT AND TELL EVERYONE YET UNTIL I KNEW WHAT THE BIOPSY RESULTS WOULD BE BUT I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE. I MIGHT NOT KNOW FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS OR SO, I MEAN SHIT ITS NOT EVEN SCHEDULED YET. I LITERALLY JUST FOUND THIS OUT ON MONDAY. I AM LITERALLY GOING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN BAWLING MY EYES OUT AND HAVING NO EMOTION AND SAYING FUCK IT TO EVERYTHING AND REFUSE ANY TREATMENT AND JUST FUCKING DIE. PEOPLE TELL ME TO TRY TO STAY CALM AND POSITIVE UNTIL WE KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT IS. BUT EITHER WAY, I WILL NEED MORE SURGERY, AND POSSIBLY MORE MEDS/PILLS I’LL HAVE TO TAKE FOREVER OR EVEN CHEMO/RADIATION. I’M LITERALLY DONE WITH THIS SHIT. I CANT HANDLE DOING THIS ALL OVER AGAIN.. AND EVEN IF I DO AND ALL IS FINE, WHOSE TO SAY ITS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN IN ANOTHER COUPLE OF YEARS? I DO NOT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO CONTINUE DOWN THIS PATH. MY BRAIN IS ALREADY SO FRIED, I’M GOING TO HAVE EVEN LESS BRAIN CELLS IF I HAVE TO GET MORE CHEMO. MY LEFTOVER ANNOYING AS HELL SIDE EFFECTS THAT ARE ALREADY PERMANENT ARE ONLY GOING TO GET WORSE AND WORSE..

I don’t want to have to explain all of this to everyone so you can just pretend that I am telling/yelling all this information to you. All of my anxiety and emotions that I have worked on and improved is now down the fucking drain. I can’t concentrate.. I have issues with sleep even more now (sleep has not been good for a long time). The anxiety and pain of not knowing what this is is killing me.. and to know that technically either result isn’t good either way is just another thing that is killing me inside. All of my other progress is also going to be starting back over since I need more surgery. I mean really, what is the fucking point anymore. People keep telling me I’m strong. but I am NOT. I cannot and do not want to deal with everything all over again. I really need to get a advanced directive and living will completed. I don’t want to spend my entire life fighting this shit nonstop and not being able to do what I want. I rather just go do whatever whenever without a care in the world since I am going to be dying sooner than later anyways.

#cancer #colon cancer #fuck cancer #fml

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geniusthelabel · 5 years ago

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Why You Should Eat More Leafy Greens

Source: @sakaralife

Photo: Christy Turlington

There’s no one silver bullet when it comes to creating a thriving body—diversity is key—but in a desert-island situation, eating leafy greens is the most profound way to transform your health. And we aren’t talking about a wilting and frightfully small side salad; the real magic happens at about 4 to 6 cups every single day.

Why Greens Are Crucial

With every crunch of organic roughage, you’re changing your microbiome, and getting closer to a thriving, powerful, efficient body. This internal ecosystem is the control center for our metabolism, nutrient absorption, mood, cognition, energy levels, libido, and hormones. The good news is diet plays a huge role in how the microbiome functions—and it likes fiber best. Plant fiber boasts a one-two punch for the body: the insoluble fiber works as a scrub brush, cleaning along the GI tract and ridding the body of excess estrogen, inflammatory properties, and metabolic waste from the system; the soluble fiber, meanwhile, feeds the symbiotic bacteria to balance hormones, promote microbial diversity, and keep cravings in check.

By changing the landscape of bacteria, leafy greens have the power to “crowd out” the barrage of things impacting our gut: stress, for example, has been shown to change the microbiome but promising studies reflect that a high-fiber diet can combat those negative effects. Even an occasional cocktail or flight of french fries is more easily balanced by way of a high-fiber diet, according to health experts like integrative gastroenterologist, Dr. Robynne Chutkan. “It’s the absence of nourishing food rather than the presence of the not-so-good stuff that usually leads to a depleted microbiome,” Chutkan says.

An Ally In The Digestive Journey

Beyond fiber, greens promote vitality at every stop as your body absorbs food. Digestive enzymes, prevalent in a plant’s web of nutrients, stimulate bile and acidity in the mouth and stomach. This is a crucial step to fully absorb nutrients—a lack of which causes a buildup of fermented, undigested food and excess bloat. In addition, the fact that greens are living foods and water-rich means they act as a sort of irrigation system for the colon. Think of the sharp turns of the colon and large intestine like a slide, requiring hydration to create ease for waste to exit and ensure there are no stagnant toxins and excess mucus sticking to the walls. Sakara founder and co-CEO, Whitney Tingle notes that hydrating her colon served as a cornerstone to overcoming her decade-long battle with cystic acne. “I thought I was eating ‘healthy foods’ like gluten-free crackers and avocado toast. But those foods are lacking water and hydration,” Tingle says. “They contained fiber, but they were not helping my “regularity” problems, which was a huge part of my gut imbalance and the inflammation that showed up on my face. I thought I had a skin problem, but it was actually a gut problem. Flooding my diet with water-rich foods (and fiber-rich foods that contained water too) helped my body to heal and rebalance and my skin gradually cleared.”

Eating Sunshine

It would be remiss to gloss over a green’s most obvious superpower: chlorophyll. The verdant pigment is one of the most potent sources of detoxification on the planet, and plants use it to trap light needed for photosynthesis, generating oxygen. By consuming chlorophyll, you are actively absorbing sun energy and oxygen, the two components to life. The full scope of its healing powers have yet to be explored, but its properties support the renewal of damaged tissue, building blood, increasing intestinal flora, and improving phase II of liver function.

Above all, leafy greens are high-vibrational foods that help create a fully-functioning body. Juicy, living, water-rich, oxygenated plants reflect back into the body and steer us away from the markers of disease: inflammation, dehydration, lethargy, and stress.

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paleorecipecookbook · 7 years ago

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Could a Gluten-free Diet Reduce Your Risk of Diabetes?

The prevalence of diabetes has skyrocketed in recent decades. Consider the following:

An estimated 9.4 percent of the U.S. population has diabetes, and 33.9 percent has prediabetes. Together, this adds up to 100 million affected Americans (1).

Five million people in the United States are expected to have type 1 diabetes by 2050, including roughly 600,000 children and adolescents (2).

Diabetes has reached epidemic proportions and is a familiar topic on my blog. You may have seen my 2015 article on reversing type 2 diabetes and more recently, how a fasting mimicking diet might soon be a viable treatment option for type 1 diabetes. But what if we could prevent diabetes in the first place? Wouldn’t that be the best solution? In this article, I’ll review how gluten consumption or avoidance might affect your risk for type 1 and type 2 diabetes. We’ll start with type 1 diabetes.

The gluten–leaky gut–diabetes connection

The immune system has the important job of distinguishing foreign invaders from the body’s own tissues. When this process is disrupted, the body can start to attack some of its own cells, a condition called autoimmunity. In type 1 diabetes (T1D), the immune system attacks the beta cells of the pancreas. These beta cells are responsible for the secretion of the hormone insulin, and a loss of these cells results in unregulated blood sugar levels. Individuals with T1D must rely on insulin injections or an insulin pump to maintain blood glucose. Pioneering researcher Dr. Alessio Fasano has spent a great deal of his career studying autoimmunity, and he believes that autoimmune diseases like T1D are preceded by a leaky gut (3). In 2006, research from his lab showed that gliadin, a protein component of gluten, can cause intestinal permeability by upregulating the molecule zonulin, even in healthy subjects (4). Diabetic-prone rats have 35 times higher zonulin levels compared to diabetic-resistant rats. They develop intestinal permeability, which is closely followed by production of autoantibodies against pancreatic beta cells and clinical signs of T1D. Similarly, zonulin upregulation seems to precede T1D diagnosis in humans (5). Several epidemiological studies also point to a gluten–diabetes connection. Children with celiac disease have a 2.4 times greater chance of developing T1D (6). Additionally, celiac patients diagnosed later in life have a higher rate of autoimmune diseases (23.6 percent) than celiac patients who were diagnosed at a very young age (5.1 percent) (7). This suggests that longer exposures to gluten could increase the risk for developing autoimmune diseases like T1D. What about those who are non-celiac? The evidence is limited. Studies in mice, however, may provide some clues.

More good news about a gluten-free diet: it may protect against diabetes

A gluten-free diet protects mice against type 1 diabetes

Several studies using a non-obese diabetic (NOD) mouse model of diabetes suggest that consumption of a gluten-free diet might reduce the risk of diabetes. When maintained on standard mouse chow, NOD mice have higher levels of gut mucosal inflammation and a higher incidence of diabetes (8, 9). Switching NOD mice to a gluten-free diet significantly reduces hyperglycemia and the presence of autoantibodies. A possible microbial explanation Intriguingly, the gluten–diabetes connection may be mediated by changes in the gut microbiota. Mice on a standard gluten-containing chow have increased abundance of Barnesellia, Bifidobacterium, and Tannerella species, while mice on a gluten-free chow had greater microbial richness and an increased abundance of Akkermansia species (10). Akkermansia muciniphila is a beneficial bacterium that feeds off the mucus layer in the gut and stimulates endocannabinoid signaling, which reduces inflammation and improves gut integrity (11). Previous studies have shown that increased levels of Akkermansia muciniphila are associated with a reduced incidence of T1D (12). The authors write:

Gluten could contribute to the pathogenesis of T1D in the NOD mouse by decreasing Akkermansia, a genus of [the gut] microbiota that protects against T1D. Alternatively, gluten-containing diets may promote ‘‘pathogenic or diabetogenic’’ bacteria. Further experiments are needed to prove these possibilities. (10)

Regulatory T cells The gluten-free chow group also had a higher percentage of regulatory T cells (Tregs) in the mesenteric lymph nodes (MLN) compared to the standard gluten-containing chow (10). Regulatory T cells in the MLN drain into the gut and suppress inflammatory immune responses (13).

Select case studies in humans suggest benefits for type 1 diabetes

Of course, it’s important to look beyond animal studies. One human case study from Denmark describes a six-year-old boy diagnosed with type 1 diabetes without celiac disease. His hemoglobin A1c (HbA1c), a common marker of long-term blood glucose control, was 7.8 percent at diagnosis. After adopting a gluten-free diet, HbA1c stabilized at 5.8 to 6.0 percent without the need for insulin therapy. Twenty months later, when the case study was published, he was still without daily insulin therapy and had a normal fasting blood glucose of 74 mg/dL (14). A small pilot study of children with newly diagnosed T1D found comparable results. After 12 months on a gluten-free diet, seven of 13 pediatric patients were still in partial remission, assessed by insulin-dose adjusted A1c (15). Gluten-free diets may also be beneficial for at-risk patients who have not yet developed full-blown diabetes. A 2003 study found that high-risk individuals who adopted a gluten-free diet for six months did not reduce their T1D autoantibody levels but did significantly improve insulin secretion (16).

Has wheat become more problematic?

Farmers are constantly breeding for varieties that produce the most profit, with the least susceptibility to disease. The result is a crop that can be quite unlike its ancestral counterpart. A group of researchers in Israel tested the ability of modern wheat flour to cause diabetes and compared it to flours from several ancestral wheat landraces. They found that animals that received ancestral wheat had a lower incidence of T1D compared to animals fed the modern wheat variety (17). This is not the first study to identify differences between modern and ancient wheats. A group of researchers in the Netherlands found that the presence of glia-ɑ9, a major immune recognition sequence of alpha-gliadins, is higher in modern wheat compared to ancient varieties. They suggest that selective wheat breeding may have inadvertently contributed to the increased prevalence of celiac disease (18).

Is there a critical window for gluten exposure?

For many years, scientists have been aware of critical periods during development in which infants are more readily influenced by certain inputs. Babies constantly put things in their mouths, effectively training their immune systems and acquiring oral tolerance to potential allergens. It certainly seems plausible that there could be an optimal time for the immune system to be exposed to certain foods, such as gluten. I’ve talked about critical windows for gluten exposure in relation to celiac disease previously on my podcast. Epidemiological studies have suggested that there might also be a critical period for gluten exposure relative to T1D. In one study, researchers followed a cohort of children at risk for T1D from birth for an average of 4.7 years. They found that children exposed to cereal grains (including wheat, oats, barley, rye, and rice) before three months or after seven months tended to have greater pancreatic autoimmunity compared to children introduced to cereal grains between four and six months (19). However, a randomized controlled trial published in 2011 did not support these epidemiological findings. The BABYDIET study included 150 infants with a family history of T1D and an at-risk HLA genotype. They were randomly assigned to receive their first gluten exposure at six months or 12 months of age. After three years, the two groups had no significant differences in markers of islet autoimmunity or T1D diagnoses (20).

But wait, didn’t the AHA say that gluten was protective against type 2 diabetes?

Thanks to an American Heart Association (AHA) news report, you may have seen some headlines a few months ago that concluded that gluten was protective against type 2 diabetes (T2D). In an abstract presented at an AHA meeting, they reported that people who ate the most gluten tended to have the lowest incidence of type 2 diabetes. In my recent article on the coconut oil debacle, I discussed my concerns about industry influence in the AHA, so I won’t rehash that here. Instead, let’s look at the limitations of the evidence they cite. The study results were presented at an AHA meeting and, to my knowledge, have not yet been published in a journal, so we’ll have to go off what was included in the press release and abstract:

The study was observational. This is not a randomized clinical trial. They simply looked at how much gluten people tended to eat and made associations with the incidence of diabetes. We could easily see how the healthy user bias might play in here. If whole grains are promoted as healthy, people who are eating the government recommended six-plus servings of grains (including gluten) may also be adhering to other healthy practices, such as exercising, eating fruits and vegetables, and avoiding smoking and excessive alcohol consumption, and thus have less risk of developing T2D.

They relied on self-reported gluten intake. Food frequency questionnaires ask subjects to recall their consumption over a defined period in the past and are notoriously imprecise.

There were no “gluten-abstainers.” They only looked at people eating varying doses of gluten, ranging from four to 12 grams per day. None of their participants was on a gluten-free diet.

No dietary data. What are people who eat a low-gluten diet eating instead? Are people who are eating less gluten eating more soy, corn, and rice?

Low strength of association. The study found only a 13 percent difference in T2D incidence between low-gluten eaters and high-gluten eaters. Given the number of subjects, this is a fairly minor association. In fact, if you look at the language in the study abstract, they make light of the fact that higher gluten consumption was associated with less incidence of T2D.

Third variables: The one thing wheat does have going for it is that it’s a potent prebiotic, and sadly, one of the primary sources of fiber in the Standard American Diet. If you remove wheat from your diet and don’t replace it with other prebiotic fibers, your risk of diabetes could increase. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you wouldn’t be better off eating a gluten-free diet rich in other prebiotic fibers. In the abstract, the authors note: “The associations were slightly attenuated after further adjusting for cereal fiber […] but not other carbohydrate components.” I look forward to seeing the full methods published to see if fiber was one of the components included in the adjusted analysis.

The bottom line: without a robust clinical trial that addresses these limitations, the AHA should refrain from making sweeping claims that could misguide the public. Meanwhile, animal studies are allowing us to randomize treatments and understand the mechanisms at play in T2D, which is extremely difficult to do in human nutrition studies. For example, one study found that a gluten-free diet promotes glucose tolerance in a mouse model of T2D (21). Furthermore, epidemiological studies in humans have found no association between celiac disease and T2D. If avoiding gluten was problematic, we would expect celiac patients on long-term gluten-free diets to be developing T2D. It’s also prudent to note that a randomized crossover study found that three months of a Paleolithic (gluten-free) diet was sufficient to improve glycemic control and HbA1c in T2D patients (22). This was a pilot study, so it only had 13 patients, but I certainly look forward to seeing more research of this kind.

Summing it up

That was a lot of research! In case you got bogged down in the details, here are the major points: Type 1 Diabetes:

Animal studies suggest that gluten-free diets may be protective, possibly by altering the microbiome.

Human case studies suggest that children diagnosed with T1D could benefit from a gluten-free diet.

Modern wheat varieties are potentially more diabetogenic than ancient wheats.

Randomized controlled trials don’t support a critical window for gluten exposure in infants to reduce the risk of developing T1D.

Type 2 Diabetes:

An AHA report suggesting that gluten consumption is protective against T2D received a great deal of media hype, but the evidence is observational and not clear-cut.

Animal studies suggest that gluten-free diets may improve insulin sensitivity.

A Paleo-type diet has been shown to improve glycemic control in a small cohort of T2D patients.

Overall, my reading of the evidence and my clinical experience both favor avoiding gluten for preventing, and even potentially reversing, diabetes. What do you make of this research? Do you know anyone with diabetes who has benefited from a gluten-free diet? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Source: http://chriskresser.com November 14, 2017 at 06:52PM

#paleo #recipe #food #delicious #healthy #yum #diet

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stacygarringer · 5 years ago

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Crohn’s

Last week I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. I have spent my whole life sick. Like literally. Although getting a diagnosis was what I ultimately wanted, to hear you have a lifelong, debilitating disease is not exactly great news. It could be worse though, and I am so thankful it is not.

Sickness is nothing new to me. I was a sick kid and no one could figure out what was wrong with me. It was scary and disheartening to need help but not get it. When I was 17 they discovered my innards were backwards and rushed me into surgery at Riley Children’s Hospital. Three years later I went in for a second surgery, where they gave me the option of a colostomy bag or 6 inches of colon. I chose to keep my colon. I was 21, what a life changing decision for me to make. I was so naive, I thought they were going to fix me, cure me, give me the quality of life I had been longing for my entire life.

I quickly realized minimal colon meant maximum diarrhea. So for the last 20 years I have lived with symptoms that would sideline most. It literally changed my life. I developed social anxiety, I couldn’t ever be too far from a toilet and suffered from numerous bouts of depression. Life went on and so did I.

Ten years ago, I started noticing some alarming symptoms that I tried to just power through. After some ct scans, numerous tests and some misdiagnoses, I was informed that I had the lowest vitamin levels my doctors had ever seen. My ileum(the last part of the small intestine that absorbs almost all your nutrients) was thickened and diseased. No one could figure out why. After a failed colonoscopy, due to strictures and scar tissue from my surgeries, they could not make a diagnosis because they simply couldn’t get the scope past the scarred bowel to get a tissue sample.

Last week, my awesome doctor was able to get past the stricture and was able to see just how damaged my ileum was. When she came in to talk to me in the recovery room she told me that I have Crohn’s disease and that it was one of the worst cases she had ever seen. She proceeded to tell me that she has no idea how I could have lived with this for so long and that it was her mission to get me better. I immediately started sobbing and thanking her. It’s a bit strange to be so relieved to be told you have a chronic illness, let alone one with some nasty side effects.

To have hope for a better future physically is something I have been very hesitant to embrace in the past. This last week I have spent my days coming to terms with all that comes along with this disease. The medications and their side effects, the good days, the bad days and the mental health issues that go along with having a chronic illness. But I am choosing to focus on a future full of hope and remission. After being in the dark for so long, I finally see the light at the end of this tunnel. It may take me awhile to get there and to adjust to the light, but I won’t stop until I do. I also will forever be in awe of my body and how many lessons it has taught me about life. It has taught me to see the beauty in the small things, it has taught me what true strength is, it has taught me empathy and to always be kind because you never know what someone might be going through. It has made me who I am and I will forever be grateful for that.

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thepoliticalpatient · 7 years ago

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I watched Trump’s election from a hospital bed

I’ve posted this piece on Medium already, but it belongs on this blog too. It is a bit outdated as I wrote it soon after Trump’s election.

On the morning of October 29, I was busy with my Saturday routine of surfing the internet in my pajamas when my boyfriend, Matt, walked into the room.

“Wanna early vote today?” he asked.

I had heard about early voting, but hadn’t been that interested in partaking. This was going to be my first presidential election to vote non-absentee, and I was kind of psyched to participate in the fanfare of election day. Also, I really didn’t want to get out of my pajamas.

“Then it’d be done,” he said. “There could be long lines on Tuesday, and you never know what will come up at work.”

He had a point. I got dressed, we went in to the designated voting place for our district that day: our city’s water treatment facility, and with zero wait time or hassle, we were out of there with “I Voted” stickers on our jackets.

A few days later, on the evening of Tuesday, November 1, I had a mild stomach ache. “It’s probably nothing,” I said to Matt. “It’ll go away.”

But despite my declaration, I was nervous. Yes, it had been three years since I’d had any medical problem worth visiting a hospital, but before that, stomach aches usually spelled disaster. Following my diagnosis of ulcerative colitis at age 14, I had suffered through three severe flare-ups in four years before deciding to take the extreme — but curative — measure of having my entire colon removed. I got this done in a series of three surgeries, hoping my problems would be over after the 15 months of hell that these surgeries took.

My problems were hugely lessened by my surgeries, but I wasn’t as lucky as I’d hoped. I developed a fistula, which resulted in my diagnosis being changed to Crohn’s disease — UC’s sister condition, the main difference being that Crohn’s can cause problems outside of the colon. This meant that my surgeries hadn’t cured me as I thought they would.

Over the course of the following two years, I had three small bowel obstructions — an acute situation in which, for some reason or another, my small intestine became totally blocked off and stool was unable to pass through it. This causes terrible pain above the blockage, as the pressure builds and my guts become inflated. Each obstruction was resolved non-invasively, and although the hospitalizations for these events were extremely unpleasant, they were usually over quickly, and I was good as new within a week — a far cry from my pre-surgical flare-ups, in which I would be direly ill for months at a time. I considered myself much better off than before, and my last blockage had been three years ago, so I felt pretty invincible by now. But blockages start with simple stomach pain, so a belly ache had never been something I had taken lightly.

But as it came time to go to bed that evening, the stomach pain had only progressed. As we turned out the light, I said to Matt, “I hope we’re not going to end up at the emergency room tonight,” a statement which didn’t help him fall asleep. We’d been dating less than three years, so even though he knew the details of my medical situation in a theoretical sense by proxy of my stories, he hadn’t personally seen me have a problem before. “I can drive you in at any time if you need,” he said. “Just poke me.”

I tried to fight it, using rituals like massaging the sore spot and applying a heating pad — things that never really worked, but which made me feel better. By 3am, I knew I needed medical intervention, and that if I waited much longer, I’d be in really severe pain before I could be seen.

The good thing about driving to the emergency room at three in the morning is that there is no traffic. We hadn’t been to the ER in this city yet, so we had to wander a bit to find the entrance. Matt carried my bag, which I had known to pack up with everything I would need to stay entertained for a few days, while I walked hunched-over, a heating pad pressed to my belly.

The triage nurse that took my bloodwork made friendly small talk. He saw my sticker — “How was early voting?”

“So easy. Guess I’m glad now that I got that done already,” I said. I figured I’d be out before election day — it was a week off, after all — but it was one less thing to worry about.

The vomiting started while we were still in the waiting room, which probably helped the process get hurried along for me. Soon they brought us into the ward, in a little curtained-off room, and got some morphine into me, providing near-instantaneous relief from the majority of the pain. Our timing had been good — my pain had still been manageable by the time I got help.

Over the next several hours, I went through the customary routine: Lots of painkillers. CAT scan to officially diagnose the blockage — even though the pain was so familiar to me, it had to be done. Insertion of the dread naso-gastric tube, and the inevitable panic attack that follows. As much as it sucked, I was used to all of this.

That changed soon when a woman from colorectal surgery came by. Her demeanor was wonderful, but I didn’t like her being there at all — surgery was the last-ditch solution for a blockage: I’d never needed it before, and I certainly didn’t want it tonight. She proceeded to tell me that the pictures that came back from the scan were not totally conclusive. “You didn’t quite have enough barium in you for us to get a good picture” (I hadn’t been able to keep the stuff down) “but it actually looks like you might be blocked in two places. If that’s true, the NG tube isn’t going to be able to resolve it.”

This scared me. The NG tube had always been enough before. “Well, she did say the picture was bad,” I said to Matt after she left, choosing not to accept the possibility that I could be getting surgery again.

They got more barium into me through the NG tube and wheeled me in for another CAT scan before I could have the opportunity to puke it up (yay radiation!). This one confirmed what they thought: I needed surgery.

I still hadn’t accepted it. I suggested an alternative we could try: anti-inflammatory pills that had, in the past, resolved my stomach pains before I even got to the point of needing to go to the hospital.

The woman got very firm with me then: “You don’t have time to ‘try’ anything. The bowel between the two blockages could be cut off from blood and dying. You could have a perforation with stool leaking into your abdominal cavity. You will die if you don’t consent to this surgery soon.”

That was enough to convince me, of course. The events that follow feel blurred now: the hospital paged an entire surgical team, since by now it was the dead of the following night, and wheeled me to the colorectal surgery wing. I scribbled some lines on a consent form without reading it — I was too drugged up by now to really do a signature and had simply chosen to put my trust in the expertise of the doctors. The surgeon told me he’d go in and do whatever seemed appropriate, but he didn’t know yet what that would be. I could wake up with feet of my bowel missing, with an ostomy bag, anything. I just nodded and signed. What else could I do?

Luckily, it was good news when I woke up. The first thing I did was to pat my lower-right quadrant. Feeling no ostomy bag there, I let out a sigh of relief and called to a nurse for pain killers and news.

My bowel had perforated and stool had leaked into my abdominal cavity, putting me at high risk of infection. The surgeon had cleaned me out. I’d only lost 1.5 inches of bowel. The blockage had been caused by adhesions — scar tissue from my previous surgeries — my small intestine had been stuck to my ovary, and to itself, and had been twisted around strings of scar tissue that the surgeon called “May-poles.” Given the state I was in, it was pretty incredible that I hadn’t had a blockage in three years. The surgeon had cleared all this scar tissue out, but of course, the new surgery can create new scar tissue, so while things are optimistic, there are no guarantees about the future. It was good news that the blockage had been caused by scar tissue and not Crohn’s activity — there was no sign of active Crohn’s in the bit of intestine that was removed and biopsied. I was still in remission and wouldn’t have to start any new medications.

Soon I was transferred to an inpatient room and reunited with a very harrowed Matt. At some point, my parents showed up — they live a 10 hours’ drive away, and had hit the road in the dead of the night when they learned I was getting surgery. With my wonderful support system in place, the good prognosis, and the very good pain killers, it wasn’t too hard to stay positive.

My roommate in the hospital was this spirited woman in her 90’s who I’ll call Margo here to protect her privacy. She was in incredible health for her age, but had recently fallen and now needed an elbow replacement. We talked a lot more than I usually do with hospital roommates. I learned that she had been planning to vote, but ended up not being able to due to her accident.

Out of curiosity, I researched what my options would have been if I hadn’t early voted. In my state, Massachusetts, there is a measure in place meant to protect people who are hospitalized within five days of election day in which you can request an absentee ballot to be hand-delivered to you by an election official. I was hospitalized six days before election day, so I just barely missed the mark. In Massachusetts, you can also request an absentee ballot the normal way all the way up until the day before election day, but it’s “highly recommended” that you do so at least a month before the election. During the tense hours in the ER, or the painful hours immediately post-surgery, getting an absentee ballot would have been the last thing on my mind, so I’m incredibly glad I early-voted. I fear I would have slipped through the cracks otherwise. I wonder how many chronically ill people’s voices were silenced in this election for reasons beyond their control.

Matt was a saint through all of this. He had been coming to visit me after work every day. On the night of November 8, he didn’t like the way I looked when he arrived. I was an anxious mess.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?” he asked, worried I’d suffered a setback.

“Results are starting to come in, and Trump’s ahead in New Hampshire, and that’s a pretty important state.”

He seemed relieved that my anxiety wasn’t about my health, but his attempts to comfort me about the election just made me feel like he didn’t fully understand how personally scary Trump is to me.

So I laid it out. That he frightened me in a lot of ways that weren’t personal — I’m not Muslim, an immigrant, black, or LGBTQ, but I don’t have to have that personal connection in order to be horrified by his hatred towards all of those groups and the threat he poses to them. But there is one very personal real threat he poses to me: his desire to repeal the Affordable Care Act.

I have been one of the lucky ones as far as insurance goes. My health expenses as a minor, totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars, were covered by my dad’s insurance. I am healthy enough to work and hold down my own private insurance now. The system is working pretty well for me. But there was one time period in which I was very vulnerable and, without the ACA, I fear I would either be dead or bankrupted right now.

My first set of surgeries, the three procedures that removed my colon, constructed a new internal reservoir for my stool called a j-pouch, and essentially gave me my life back, happened when I was 18 after a failed attempt to go to college. I only made it through a few weeks of school on my tenuous health before becoming too sick to continue. I had to drop out to have the surgeries done. I was not a minor, I was no longer a student, and I was in no state to hold down a job. Without the ACA, that could have been grounds to remove me from my parents’ insurance just when I needed it the most. As it was, the provision that allows children to stay on their parents’ insurance until age 26 protected me. When those 15 months of hell were over, I went back to college, got my degree in computer science with relatively few roadblocks, and now I have a career as a software engineer. It’s amazing to people who knew me when I was so sick in high school that I’m leading a pretty normal, independent, productive life now. I couldn’t have done without my surgeries, and in turn, without the ACA, which was brand new at the time of my surgeries. The timing was really lucky.

Now Trump wants to dismantle the ACA. Not only does this make my heart hurt for people who haven’t yet made it to my level of good fortune and might not be able to without the aid of the ACA, but it still directly threatens me. My lifetime expenses for Crohn’s disease treatments haven’t quite hit a million yet, but are getting pretty close, and I’m only 24, and I don’t expect to ever stop having major expenses. My recent stint in the hospital will probably run on the order of hundreds of thousands — the statements from my insurance haven’t come in yet — and that’s money that nobody, especially a sick person, has just lying around. Something like an HSA would be virtually useless for an expense of this scale.

ACA prevents discrimination against people with preexisting conditions and the imposition of lifetime caps on individuals. Basically, this means that prior to ACA, insurance companies had the right to say, “Yeah, we’ve spent a million dollars on your Crohn’s expenses; that’s enough; no more for you.” I didn’t choose to be so expensive, and even though I’m pretty fortunate in many ways — my level of education and employment opportunities, to name some examples — even I can’t do this on my own. If these caps are reinstated, I imagine I will hit mine within a few years, and then I will have to leave my entire life behind in America, for a country with universal healthcare. And I shudder to think what getting access to healthcare will be like for chronically ill people who are less privileged than I am.

We are a first world country. If we want to call ourselves civilized, we should take care of our most unfortunate. Our ill shouldn’t have to flee for their lives. This should be a solved problem. And it is, in places like Sweden.

Matt understood, then. He comforted me with a few more words about it being early in the night, and that even if he did win, he’d have to get the bill through Congress, and it wouldn’t be fast or easy. I decided to let it go for at least the next few hours, while Matt was here.

But as soon as he left, I was back on my phone, staring at the results as they flowed in. All sorts of states that Hillary was supposed to take easily were neck-and-neck. I opened up an interactive electoral map and played with the scenarios, trying to figure out the ways she could still win. It was looking bad. My heart was pounding.

The nurses came in every few hours to hang IV antibiotics or take my vital signs. “Are you even trying to sleep?” one asked me sometime after midnight. I was still following the news, guilty because I knew I needed sleep in order to heal.

“How can I?” I said, and he had to concede I had a point. “Are you getting any of the news while you’re on your shift?”

“A lot of the patients have their TVs on, so I’m getting bits and pieces that way.”

I gave him the full update — that at this point, Hillary couldn’t win without Pennsylvania, and that Trump was currently ahead there. The nurse cursed under his breath and thanked me for the update.

I decided to try to put it out of my head and get some sleep, but my conversation with the nurse had woken Margo, who put the news up on her TV and then promptly fell back asleep, so I laid, listening to the hopeless coverage — news reporters whose voices sounded confused, as though they couldn’t quite believe that what was unfolding was real — as I even more hopelessly tried to get some rest.

At some point I think a nurse shut off Margo’s TV, and I finally fell asleep. I woke up next around 3am, needing the bathroom. I unplugged my IV pole from the wall, wheeled myself into the bathroom with my phone in tow. I sat on the toilet and looked at the news. It was official, now.

My phone says I took this pic at 3:09am on the morning of Trump’s election, although I have no recollection of taking it.

It would have hurt my torn-up abdominal muscles too much to cry, so instead I just let my eyes unfocus and gave the too-white wall of the hospital bathroom a thousand-yard stare for a few minutes until I felt ready to walk again.

So now we have a Republican-controlled Congress and Trump about to enter the White House. Congress can’t repeal the ACA completely without 60 Senate votes, which they won’t get. What they can do is remove the funding, including the mandate that makes the entire system work. So their plan is to destabilize the system by removing its financial backing, which will raise premium costs for all of us and — they hope — sour Americans on the system enough to elect more anti-ACA senators. It’s politics at its dirtiest, and lives hang in the balance. We can’t let them get away with it.

It seems crazy that after three years of good health, I had my first major problem just as Trump was elected. It’s like the universe needed to remind me that I still need to be afraid of my body. I’m home from the hospital now, healing well, and trying to figure out what comes next for me. My prognosis is positive, but I don’t know about our country’s.

#essay post #ACA #healthcare #health insurance #hospitalization #Crohn's disease #crohn's #chronic illness #trump #trumpcare #politics

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