OCD Update

   I recently received a comment on my Send In Your Questions post asking me what has helped me the most in managing my OCD. While many different things have helped, the sole thing that has helped the most is a drug called Luvox (Fluvoxamine). Luvox brought me into remission and has kept me there. I started out taking Zoloft (Sertraline) which had absolutely no effect on my OCD. I didn't notice a difference and if anything it made me worse by instigating an eating disorder. I was up to a very high dose of Zoloft with still little to no improvement. Finally my doctor decided that if Zoloft was going to work it should have by then and she started me on Luvox. Luvox is the only SSRI that was made specifically for treating Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. When I started Luvox I noticed almost instantly it was working. It was not a night and day change by any means but slowly over time my OCD symptoms diminished one by one. I believe that my and most other people's OCD is chemical. It is caused by a chemical imbalance, most likely of the neurotransmitter serotonin. The reason I believe that OCD is a biological disorder as opposed to being caused by the environment is because most often there is no probable "cause". There is often no trigger. I was shopping with my dad when I was 14 years old and a disturbing thought popped into my head. That was it. The beginning of hell. Nothing was causing me to be particularly stressed or anxious that day. That is, nothing I could think of. There was however something causing that first thought to pop into my head and that was my brain. While scientists do not know what causes OCD they do know that genetics and brain chemistry both play important factors. That is why Luvox helped me the most. When my OCD was at it's worse I had 10-15 different rituals and hundreds of disturbing thoughts. When I started taking Luvox my disturbing thoughts are what went first. Pretty soon I was having absolutely no disturbing thoughts and if I thought of one it didn't get "stuck" like it used to. Next, my not so important rituals left. These were the rituals which caused the least amount of anxiety. Then the rituals that caused more anxiety. I would simply stop caring about the rituals. They caused me no more anxiety. A few months after starting Luvox I was living practically OCD free except for one or two rituals which were deeply embedded into my life. I was fine this way however because I had improved so greatly that it didn't matter. I finally left hell and it was wonderful. I became motivated again. I quit homeschooling and went back to school. I started living again.
   As I started typing this post I tried to think of one ritual I still had..Guess what? I couldn't. I have no rituals left. I am living completely OCD free and I couldn't be happier and more proud of myself. I do still deal with the occasional anxiety and depression which is being treated with other drugs. The only problem with Luvox is although it is a miracle drug for OCD it does not treating coexisting depression very well, even though it is an SSRI. I now take Luvox 100 mg, Seroquel 150 mg, Remeron 45 mg, and Ativan 1 mg as needed. Now I do have to mention that Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is STRONGLY recommended for OCD patients and I am going to start CBT soon as a preventative measure. I want to have tools to change my thinking patterns. However, I am in counseling and group therapy and that has helped me tremendously. If you have OCD and are not in some form of therapy I highly recommend it.
   I am happy to say that I have not only managed but I have beat my OCD and I know that all of you sufferers out there will too. My words of wisdom are speak up, reach out, and fight. Never be to ashamed to reach out because OCD is NOT you, it is a disorder and like any other disorder it IS treatable!

My Experience with Leukemia Part 2

I was finally home from the hospital and it was nice to be in my own comfy environment again. Although things didn't quite feel the same. It was as if my previous time at home was the "before" and my time now was the "after". I knew that things would never truly be the same again. The only thing I would be willing to eat was my mom's homemade macaroni and cheese made with large egg noodles and Velveeta cheese. I finally had a craving to eat something. A craving I hadn't had for what seemed like a very long time. When my plate of macaroni and cheese was placed in front of me I took a few bites and the craving diminished as fast as it had come. I suddenly was not hungry anymore. I suppose the thought of enjoying something yummy as I previously had was better then actually attempting to eat something. I still wasn't back to my usual self. So much was changing. I had my very first surgery that I could actually remember in the hospital to insert a port. A child life specialist had come in with medical dolls who had ports to show me the procedure. They asked me if I wanted a premedication so I wouldn't remember being wheeled back to the operating room but I said no. If there was anything I was afraid of it was losing control of my surroundings. Somehow I found stability in an extremely unstable environment. I also had to learn to swallow pills. Up until now I been taking children's grape or cherry flavored Tylenol or mint flavored Pepto Bismal. The taste of chemo was not appealing even with flavoring added to it, so I had to swallow pills. This was a very hard obstacle to overcome. My mom and nurses tried everything to get me to swallow a pill. Some people told me to put the pill on the tip of my tongue while others said to put the pill on the way back. Some told me to drink tons of water while others only a small sip. We tried wrapping them with fruit rollups so I wouldn't taste them, we tried crushing them and putting them into capsules, my mom even tried crushing them and mixing them with sugar and water like Mary Poppins. Nothing worked. The best idea so far had been crushing them and filling them into capsules, only the capsules were large and hard to swallow. My dad consulted his brother, a pharmacist, to see if the capsules came in any other size and to our luck they did! We immediately told my doctors we wanted a prescription for the smallest capsules available and that is when I finally started to get the hang of swallowing pills. Sitting at home with my macaroni and cheese made me depressed. Would I ever start feeling like myself again? Not only was that on my mind but I had to wake up at 7:30 am the next morning to head to the CCBD (Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders) for my first official Friday morning appointment. I woke up extremely nauseated and we had to wait at the valet for a wheelchair because I was too sick to walk. This day was truly hell. I was wheeled up to the 6th floor to start the process of a typical clinic visit. First I received a identification bracelet, then vital signs, height, and weight. I was given a specimen cup to pee in to make sure I was not pregnant. Next, my blood was drawn for a CBC. Afterwards I would meet with Dr. Wright and receive an exam. Lastly, I would sit in the waiting room until my counts came back. Normally there was a child life specialist there with a craft to make. She was nothing like Miss Nancy though. Miss Nancy was the Thursday playroom volunteer for the inpatient unit. She always had the most creative detailed projects and she'd been volunteering for many years. Everyone absolutely adored Miss Nancy. When my nurse received my counts the news was either good or bad, only the opposite for me. If my counts were above 500 I could receive chemo and stay on track, good for the doctors, bad for me. If my counts were below 500 I couldn't receive the chemo, bad for the doctors, good for me. If my hemoglobin or platelet count was low I would receive transfusions of one or both. I believe my counts were not quite high enough for chemo that morning so we were sent home and instructed to return in a week to try again. Clinic visits soon became very routine for me. Not eating or drinking anything after midnight the night before. Applying Emla numbing cream to my port the morning of. Life had changed. The entire leukemia lifestyle became second nature to all of us. Constant hand washing and use of Wet Wipes and Purrell. Limited outings. Avoidance of large crowds. Crushing and administering pills each night. Losing pounds and pounds of weight. I had even missed every day of school since I'd been diagnosed. One day my sister pointed out a bald spot on my head. I was disappointed but I knew it was coming. After that I put my hair in a french braid and wore a hat. My hair stayed like this for quite awhile but my mom knew the day was coming soon when I wouldn't have that braid anymore. She decided to take me to the wig store she'd heard about. When we arrived it took a little getting used to. It was hard to comprehend I was picking my new set of hair for the next 2 1/2 years. Once I started trying wigs on I actually started to enjoy myself. I liked the more sophisticated look of a particular wig I tried on and that was the one we left with. I did however have to wear a hat with it because it had bangs and I didn't. My life was now consisting of cooking shows and playing babydolls at home all day. I was actually enjoying my time off of school. One day when I felt pretty sick my mom turned on Clueless and made me a homemade strawberry milkshake with her new blender. It brought a smile to my sad face. My mom and I were starting to become extremely close. We were going through all of this together, she and I. I never felt alone. She even offered to shave her own head! I think she was chosen to be my mother throughout all of this. I'm not sure there are many mothers out there who could be as strong and make my horrible situation as happy as she did. I will have her to thank for the rest of my life. One day my mom and I were in her bathroom and she was trying to talk me into cutting my hair. She told me it was going to fall out very soon anyway and we might as well get it over with. I agreed. I was tired of wearing it in a braid afraid to move it and I wanted to try out my new wig. So my mom got the scissors and cut off my braid. It was a very strange feeling looking at my hair that had taken so long to grow sitting in the trashcan. My mom cut the little bits of hair off of my scalp. It came off in patches. My braid had been hanging on by a thread. When Laura got home from school I was showcasing my new wig with excitement. I wanted to stay positive so that Laura would too. She told me that my wig was great and all but then she said "But you still have your braid don't you?" and my heart sunk. No..I didn't have my braid. To this day I still remember that very moment. I put a brave face on but deep down there was a knife in my heart. When I started feeling a little better I would make occasional visits to school such as a lunchtime or a science class. My first time back was when the 4th graders were putting on Texas Trail. Everyone including my twin sister was dressed as an important figure and had a booth relating to that person. When I walked outside all of the kids came running and screaming as if I were a celebrity. I was shocked at all of the attention. Miss Peters took me to visit my classroom and to see Father Vic. He had been concerned about me. I think as a man of God that God was telling him something. He knew more than anything how serious my situation had been. I visited school again for pioneer day. All of us were dressed as they would dress in the prairie days. We gathered in a meeting room to watch a movie and my science teacher Mrs. Fusch told us to take off our hats. It was embarrassing to keep mine on but my friend Kelly next to me said "its ok, you can keep your hat on." The school year was coming to an end and it was as if I was watching everyone else live their normal fourth grade lives but mine was completely different. Miss Peters and I started emailing back and forth and she would come to my house and visit me. I was being sent cards home from school and Sunday School. People who were never friends with me all of a sudden had an interest. One afternoon after Laura got in the car and handed me my Wednesday Envelope I took the papers out and started looking through them. I came across one that was about me! A quilt was being made in my honor and they were going to present it to me in chapel by surprise! Laura immediately burst into tears when I started reading aloud the slip of paper. Supposedly I was accidentally given the paper that was supposed to go home to everyone but me. The chapel day arrived and I showed up pretending I only knew I was there to see my sister read the scripture. When they called me up my sister and I walked hand in hand to the front of the chapel where they presented me with a beautiful pink hand stitched quilt. The stitches on the back were in the shape of hearts and each patch on the front was a crayon drawing by one of my classmates. They were all told to incorporate a heart so there were many basketball, robot, and action figure hearts. In the center was a large patch with the words "Wrap our love around you to keep you safe and warm." I was honored that so many people would work together to make this happen for me. As the school year started coming to an end I decided I was going to ditch the Food Network and play school until summer. My classroom hadn't been decorated in awhile so I started decorating for Summer. I picked up my roll of tape to rip off a piece and nothing happened. I tried again and still nothing. I was too weak to rip a simple piece of tape. This was only the beginning of a long list of things I would no longer be able to do.

My Experience with Leukemia Part 1

I have attempted to write about my experience with leukemia for some time now. I first started doing this when I was actually going through it around the age of 11 but have since taken a very long break. Eventually I want to put my words into a book but I thought I would just start with a blog post. When I was 10 years old I was on a spring break trip to Europe. During that trip I had very little energy and could not seem to keep up. Short blocks seemed like long miles. We started to have to take taxis everywhere we went, even only short distances. One morning we headed to the train station to board a train from Paris to London. I had not been feeling very well that morning but never did I think I would get as bad as I did. I stopped in the middle of the train station and threw up. I had never thrown up in public before so this was very out of character for me. According to my family my face was turning blue. My grandmother rushed to buy me a bottle of water. Everyone felt so helpless. The nausea soon subsided and I was back to my usual self. Just early morning nausea I thought. My next major sign was when I had returned to Dallas and was in my 4th grade PE class. We were playing a game on the football field and if you were tagged you were out and had to sit down. I have never tried so hard to be "out" in my entire life. I purposely ran as slow as I could until I was finally tagged. When I sat down I felt the most relief I have ever felt to this day. My energy was completely gone. When PE was over I struggled to run with the other kids back to the lockers. I kept calling my best friend's name to come wait for me. I told her I couldn't run and she thought it was just because I was getting used to the time difference. Later that day I was in study hall and my study advisor Father Vic said "Katie, you still haven't recovered from your trip have you?" I answered no. I was extremely tired and sluggish. He then proceeded to ask "Are you taking your Vitamins"and "Are you getting enough sleep?" Both of which I answered yes. "I'm just tired from PE" I exclaimed. He replied "No, that's not it...". I wasn't too worried at the time. I was just a kid. I didn't know what leukemia was. Much less that I was experiencing the symptoms of it. Several people told me I looked pale that day. It was something I was actually getting used to hearing. When I got in the car at carpool I told my mom about all of the comments I had received. She immediately told me she had made me a doctors appointment. I burst into tears. I don't want to go to the doctor. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. As far as I was concerned it was a pointless visit. I cried throughout the entire appointment. My doctor told me she needed to draw a sample of blood to find out what was making me so pale. I fought her so she had to hold me down while another doctor drew the blood. As soon as the test results came back the entire mood changed. She told my mom that my hemoglobin was 6 and it should be 12. She was very serious and told us we needed to go to Children's Medical Center right away to be further assessed. My mom instantly called my dad and told him to meet us there. We were directed to the Bright Building where the diagnostic center was. I was fully examined and they collected blood and fluid samples for analysis. After I was done being poked and prodded and my mom was finished with all the paperwork they gave me a Popsicle and we were told to wait in the waiting room. My grandmother soon arrived and her eyes were filled with worry. It was only her, my mom and I because my dad and sister had shortly left to go pick up food as it was getting late. I was in a sort of cloud. I wasn't feeling anything but curious as to what was going on. Right after my dad and sister came back we were all called back to the exam room. The nice doctor who had examined me was ready to inform us as best as she could of what was happening. She started to explain how my white blood cells were overproducing and overcrowding my blood system and my mom interrupted her and blurted "Are we talking leukemia." The doctor became quiet and she said "Possibly." My mother was crying at this point and my sister broke into tears. I sat there. I was in my own little world and numb to the pain of others around me. As long as there was treatment I would be okay. We were escorted back into the waiting room while they paged an oncologist. Then it hit me. I started crying out of fear of my family's reaction. This must be very serious. A nurse came up and asked us if we would like to meet with a child life specialist. My dad attempted to answer that we'd be fine but I interrupted with "Yes." I liked the idea of meeting with someone who could explain to me on my level what was going on in a kind, child friendly way. I knew she was a child life specialist when a girl with two stuffed animals came walking up. She let me pick mine first and gave the other one to Laura. I was comforted by her. She brought me back to my cloud. She explained to me what it was like to spend the night in the hospital. With excitement she told me that at midnight I could call up room service and ask for a hamburger, milkshake, french fries, and banana and it would arrive at my room in less then half an hour. After we were done meeting with the oncologist and I received a second examination I was taken to the procedure room to have an IV placed. I lied back while the nurse put in my IV. He covered it was plastic and gave me an arm board to keep it straight. Afterwards I got to choose a sticker. By this time it was very late and I was finally ready to be wheeled to my room. When I arrived to the 10th floor my height and weight was taken and I changed into pajamas my uncle had dropped off. The food my dad brought was cold by now but I ate some of it anyway. My grandmother, JJ, Laura, and my dad all went home and my mom got her cot ready to stay the night. We soon drifted asleep unaware of the days to come. The next few weeks would be the hardest of my entire course of treatment. I was given a spinal tap and bone marrow aspiration the next day to text my bone marrow and spinal fluid for cancerous cells. It was my first time being sedated and it all felt very strange. I was very glad when it was over. The next day my teacher came to visit me. I was so excited that Miss Peters had come all the way to the hospital to see me! I was oblivious as to the seriousness of the disease. I was leaving the playroom when I saw her walking down the hall. After a nice visit with her my team of oncologist came in my room to meet with us. Miss Peters left and so did my good mood. My primary oncologist Dr. Wright explained to me that they used a treatment protocol called chemotherapy. I started sobbing as soon as I heard the word. I had seen many lifetime movies about cancer patients and they all lost their hair. I had asked my mom earlier that day if I would lose my hair and she'd said no. I guess she was wrong. That night I was started on the "red medicine". It was covered in a solid IV bag because it was sensitive to the sun and my nurse dressed in a smock and gloves because of how lethal it was to skin. My best friend was over and we were eating my favorite Mexican restaurant, Mi Cocina. The red medicine slowly dripped into my veins. I instantly expected to feel incredibly sick but to my surprise I felt just fine and continued eating and acting normally. When everyone had left and it was just me and my mom the side effects hit me abruptly. I started vomiting nonstop. I felt the sickest I have ever felt. I vomited and had diarrhea the entire night. The doctors gave me Zolfran for nausea which helped but it wasn't strong enough to beat the chemo. By the next day I had a pattern going. I would throw up in the light pink vomit bucket, then I would wipe my mouth and forehead with a cool wet washcloth, and then I would lye on my towel covered pillow and shiver. I would feel better for up to ten minutes before the whole process started over. I spent 12 days in the hospital. Towards the end of my stay my food and fluid intake had diminished. I wasn't eating a single thing all day long. I had sunk into this lifeless depression. My energy was gone and talking required too much effort. I would mumble my answers instead. My family got so used to me not eating that they finally stopped even asking me. As far as the doctors were concerned I should have been out of the hospital by now but they wouldn't discharge me until I ate. One morning Dr. Wright came in to check on me only to find me lying on my bed still refusing food. Later that day my mom was on the phone with my dad and she was telling him what she wanted from McDonalds, as usual she wasn't going to ask me if I wanted anything because she knew I wouldn't. A spark hit me. I needed to eat. I needed to force myself to eat so I could get out. "I want a cheeseburger!" I blurted with all my energy. My dad returned to the hospital with a cheeseburger for me and I just started eating. I forced bite after bite into my mouth. I was in survival mode. Dr. Wright came in to see a previously drained 10 year old girl sitting up and eating a cheeseburger. Her first words were "What happened?" She was very pleasantly surprised and proud of me. I was discharged later that day. Battle number one over.

Perfect

WARNING ALERT: this post is a little vulgar for those of you who are conservative. I don't think everyone will appreciate it. I actually wrote this in June and finally decided to post it. Here it is...you've been warned!

So I went to a party last night. I was at a friends house and she asked if I wanted to go a lake party, our friend Lindsey was going to be there. When I heard the word party I immediately said yes! Now this was my first teenage party. Yes, you're probably thinking "but you are a teenager.." nonetheless, it was my first. Lets just say it wasn't at all what I expected. We get to the lake and all we see is two men, a women and a baby. Not the right spot. So we drive on to find a couple fishing. definitelty the wrong spot. Next we come to the boathouses. No one. Finally when we ask Lindsey for directions we find the "right spot" Not sure how you give directions to a random spot on the field but somehow we found it. Perhaps by all the people? "Maybe the loud music?" "Or perhaps all the lights?" Nope. None of the above. Seriously guys..there were none of the above. What I got for my first high school party was three guys, five girls, a blanket, and a lake. Perfect. Make that four girls. As soon as Sara and I got there Lindsey had to be dropped home for curfew at 10:30. Just my luck three of the five girls, including Sara, have to take her home and I'm stuck with a girl I just met, Amy, and three random dudes. Sara was already drunk out of her mind and I was just enjoying the complete awkwardness I was left in. The only beverage in the cocktail bar was four bottles of beer. I didn't even get my vodka diet coke. I sit down on the blanket for a few minutes and next thing you know Amy is flirting with Moses. (And yes, I left his actual name.) Two seconds later they're making out passionately and I'm on a walk with typical teen guy one and two. Perfect. They said it was a party? Yeah..nope. This was nothing further from a party. This was a lakeside powwow consisting of cheap beer and horny teenagers. As I am walking with dingbat A and B Sara and the other girl, Mandy, come running back. I am saved by the..well..footsteps. The six of us look back upon the blanket. Amy and Moses are now having sexual intercourse. Very feet away from us. Perfect. Picnic table anyone? We now have six teenagers who barely know each other at a picnic table within view of Amy and Moses parting the water. To make things even better the skank was turning 18 at midnight. As we are all getting to know each other at the outcast island Chris comes to the realization that his friend and Amy are getting it on over his blanket, Not only his blanket but his little brothers blanket. In disgust he says "I thought we were going to sit on it." At this point all of us want the alcohol down by the tree and I realize my purse is with it. Sara bravely decides she's going down. A few sorrys later she is back with my purse. Mandy is obviously annoyed and fed up with her friend Amy, Chris and Dave are talking about leaving and Sara and I are not sure what we are thinking. All of a sudden there is movement spotted, walking I mean. At the glisten of hope we find out it is only a condom break. Perfect. The two are looked upon like they have irritable bowel syndrome and could syndrome at any moment with no one wanting to be near or be touched by them. Mandy even makes up that Amy cannot spend the night anymore. Can you really blame her? Break over and Amy says "I just got three birthday presents and now I am about to get a fourth."Well yippee for her. Happy fucking birthday. Pardon my french. Sara, Chris and I are now at the playground. Swinging on the zip line and sliding down the slide. Sara and Chris get to talking and I'm awkwardly left on the play fort bridge. Perfect. This goes on for quite awhile. Our posse was splitting up. Dave finds his way to the playground and back to the picnic table. Soon after Moses and Davis come trotting back and a car goes zooming off with Amy and Mandy. I guess Amy had opened all her presents. The five of us find our way back to the picnic table and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a Louis Vutton back and a bunched up blanket near. Oh shit. All this and my purse is contaminated. Major OCD meltdown! Perfect. Sara and I decide to ditch this little shindig and hit Greenville. At 12:30 am we head into Cafe Brazil. I having never been there. Sara and I decide on splitting cheese fries. As I'm reflecting on what a bust that night was I enjoy the very best part. Eating delicious cheese fries with my friend. A perfect ending to an oh so perfect night.