Posted on November 21, 2020
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve struggled with extreme fatigue all my life (I talked about this in my ‘Tired‘ blog post); Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (often referred to collectively as ME/CFS) have been tossed around since I was twelve years old but I wasn’t officially diagnosed until last year. This kind of acute ‘unexplained’ fatigue – unexplained as in there is no obvious cause, such as exercise or lack of sleep – is also a common experience for autistic individuals, as well as related symptoms like headaches and bodily pain.
I’ve been managing these high levels of fatigue for most of my life, trying various things to improve my quality of life. And I continued searching for a cause. I had test after test but nothing ever gave us an explanation. I resisted the ME/CFS diagnosis even as it seemed more and more likely because there’s no cure, not even a reliable method of management, but eventually it seemed the only way to move forward. So, after a long talk with my GP, she officially diagnosed me with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and we began discussing various options for next steps and support. She referred me to the local Chronic Fatigue Clinic and I anxiously awaited my session.
It was a bitter, heart-wrenching disappointment. I left in tears. Maybe it would’ve been helpful when I first started experiencing these symptoms (I think the longest any of the others there had been struggling was two years) but twelve years in, I knew more than the person delivering the information, had found everything suggested to make no difference or be outright unhelpful, and I just felt so patronised. It was an awful experience and I couldn’t help but feel so angry that this was the best on offer for what I was trying to manage and had been trying to manage alone (in terms of the health system) for more than a decade.
When we spoke to them after said awful session, they referred me to a doctor that we realised I’d previously seen – years and years ago and had a very traumatic experience with. I was obviously very reluctant to go. My Mum and I spent a lot of time talking about it, about the pros and cons of going and not going. The scary thing is that it’s so easy to get kicked off every list with one refusal so I said that I would go, despite having had such a distressing appointment with him – one I’m sure he doesn’t even remember. But before we contacted that clinic, we spoke to my GP again. We explained how upsetting the experience had been and how worried we were that it was only going to be worse this time, considering I would be going in with the baggage of the previous appointment; we told her that I would go if that was how it had to be to continue on this path but she felt that we were right, that it wouldn’t be helpful given the circumstances and as I’d technically already seen him, it wouldn’t cause any problems in the system. We asked if there were any other options and this was when she referred me for the hypermobility assessment (these posts are now out of order, not only because it’s been such a confusing and complicated process, but also because I’ve had trouble keeping things like this clear and ordered in my head since the pandemic started).
I’ve now had this appointment and been diagnosed with hypermobility, which potentially explains (at least in part) my problems with fatigue and pain. (At some point, we’re going to need to lay out all of these diagnoses and work out whether there’s any overlap, whether any of them are now redundant. But that’s a job for another day.) Apparently those with hypermobility are seven times more likely to be autistic, which is a very interesting piece to add to the whole puzzle. The post goes into it in more detail but basically, we’re now waiting to find out whether or not various routes are possible. For example, I’ve been referred for hydrotherapy but we don’t know whether I’ll get it and if I do, when it will be possible with the pandemic and lockdown. That has really stalled things. So it’s one waiting game after another.
But we’re not simply waiting. We – my Mum in particular – are also looking into other angles, other medical professionals who specialise in fatigue or who have studied fatigue in depth. We’ll take any advice we can get. I resisted a diagnosis of CFS for so long because it felt like admitting defeat – an expectation that I would just have to live with it with limited options – but I don’t accept that, not anymore. I’m participating in every research study I can find that I qualify for and my family and I continue to research potential specialists and potential avenues of treatment or even simply more effective management of the symptoms. The pandemic makes it hard but I am not willing to accept that this is going to be my life, that there’s no hope. Not that long ago, NICE (The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence) removed ‘graded exercise therapy’ as a treatment for ME/CFS, after both research and those suffering with the condition proved that it was actually unhelpful at the very least. It’s slow but it’s progress. And I’ll take all the progress I can get.
Category: autism, chronic fatigue syndrome, covid-19 pandemic, diagnosis, sleep, treatment Tagged: asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autist, autistic adult, cfs research, change, chronic fatigue, chronic fatigue clinic, chronic fatigue syndrome, chronic pain, diagnoses, diagnosis, doctor, fatigue, gp, graded exercise therapy, hydrotherapy, hydrotherapy referral, hypermobile, hypermobility, hypermobility diagnosis, lockdown, lockdown 2020, me/cfs, multiple diagnoses, myalgic encephalomyelitis, NICE, pandemic, pandemic 2020, progress, referral, research, research study, research volunteer, tired, treatment
Posted on February 28, 2018
A few weeks ago, I went up to London to go to a concert with one of my friends. On the train, I’d started writing a new blog post (about getting a diagnosis – expect it soon!) and when I moved from the train to the bus, I kept going. Twenty minutes into my journey, a boy sat down next to me. I’m terrible at guessing ages but I think he was around twelve. I was in my own little world, typing furiously, when he asked me how long it had taken me to write “all those words.” It took me a moment to shift gears. I thought about it and said that I’d been writing for about an hour and a half. He looked half-amazed and half-appalled, which made me laugh. I told him that I like writing so it was fun for me. We talked for a few minutes before he asked me why I would want to put everything I’d written on the internet for people to see, which surprised me: I hadn’t thought he’d been reading over my shoulder.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that question. There are a lot of ways of answering it and I’ve been turning them over, trying to figure out which one is the best, which one represents my feelings in the truest sense. But maybe I need all of them to explain it: because I have this need to be honest, because I like to write, because I want to do something that matters, because I want to help people, because I’ll explode if I keep all of this inside me, because I want to be a part of changing how people see mental health, because I don’t want it to always be this hard… If I put something out into the world, maybe something will change. If I do nothing, I change nothing.
I’ve known some people who are very against giving people their hard earned secrets and while I agree with that in some areas (as much as I complained, doing the hard work in school subjects like Maths because the teacher withheld the shortcuts did mean I learnt more and retained it longer), I categorically don’t when it comes to mental health. If something I’ve learned can help someone else get a diagnosis or support with even slightly less struggle, then I will absolutely share it. Of course I resent how long it took and how painful it was to get to this point but that doesn’t mean I want someone else to go through the same thing. Imagine how quickly things would change if each person in the chain had it slightly easier than the person before. Feeling helpless is something I really struggle with and if there’s something I can do – anything I can do – to help, then I’ll do it. The damage that’s caused by the stigma and lack of understanding around mental health is irrefutable, in whatever form it takes. Not all suffering is equal but some people still seem to struggle with that, as if you have to go through certain things, certain examples of stigma or whatever, to be allowed to struggle. That’s just ridiculous to me. It’s like the “It’s just attention seeking,” response: if someone is asking for attention, maybe it’s because they need it. But that’s a rant for another day.
Getting back to the point… I have been so inspired by the positive, helpful things that I’ve seen people put out into the world and that’s what I want to do. That’s who I want to be.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as several mental health issues. I’m a singersongwriter (and currently studying for a Masters in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is now available on iTunes and Spotify, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
I’m currently releasing my first EP, Honest, track by track and all five songs are now available on all major music platforms. However, there’s still more content to come…