health

What ADHD Can Look Like

It took a long time to recognize that I have ADHD.

This is not an uncommon story for women and non-men with ADHD, Autism, and a variety of spectrum disorders. Symptoms are often excused as being a lack of discipline or an influence of their gender. Interestingly, many women who are later diagnosed or discover that they are autistic get a diagnosis for ADHD fist.

In school, one of the most common complaints heard from teachers was that I was too chatty. I liked to talk a lot, and very quickly. Sometimes people couldn’t understand me because I spoke so fast, and yet I would hear time and time again how bright I was or how articulate. I would ask endless questions, of everyone. I could never seem to learn that whole “don’t talk to strangers” lesson. In fact even now I find myself talking to strangers. When I left for university, my parents were surprised by how many people around town seemed to know me. While my frequent conversations with strangers bothered my mother endlessly, even into my adult years, so often the people I talked to would end up spilling their stories to me. There are times when one question leads to me seemingly learning a person’s entire life story.

At school, my focus would begin to wander a few months into the school year. I would start of the school year strong, then plummet towards the middle of the year, and then make back some of the marks towards the end. I followed this pattern throughout all my schooling.

Homework was difficult. If it was too easy, I wouldn’t pay complete attention and make inattentive mistakes. If it was too difficult, it was hard to stay focused and still long enough to understand. The longer it took, the more anxious I would get and the more difficult it would become to focus. I felt like I was unintelligent, and often my dad helping me with certain work would turn into screaming matches until suddenly something clicked and it all made sense. (Strange confession, I actually enjoyed those screaming matches with my father, feeling a strange sort of pride that I was the only one who could make him raise his voice. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it too.)

I found a lot of the books for school extremely tedious. I remember the teachers complaining about the fact that I mentioned that I preferred English books to French books. I was at a French school, so I can see why they had a problem with that, but no one considered that my problem might not be with the language, but rather with the fact that the French material was selected for me, while the English material I got to choose myself.

The stories I chose myself were more engaging, more enjoyable. They didn’t follow the same patterns that every “learn to read” type story did. Where the story doesn’t seem to matter so much as they were looking for excuses to use specific words. (more…)

I almost died last week.

CN: Descriptions of withdrawal, hospital admission, medical symptoms and needles.

It wasn’t an accident, or even a sudden onset of something like appendicitis. No, my brush with death came about as a result of fear. Specifically, other people’s fear. Fear of addiction, fear of being wrong, and fear of being fooled.

You see, the week before I was admitted with Crohn’s. I went to an appointment with my Gastroenterologist and he sent me straight to the ER. I was admitted, and put on high doses of Dilaudid, after the usual adjusting games where they started me on 1mg every 6 hours, before finally conceding that 2 mg every 4 was what was needed. In addition to that, I had Gravol and Benadryl to control the various side effects of the opiate.

I spent the week essentially zonked out after several weeks of increasing pain and nausea, and a trip to the ER every 2 weeks since Christmas. My admission came on the heels of two weeks of being sick with a sore throat, which kept me not just from being able to take my Remicade, but my medical marijuana as well. My throat hurt too much to handle the irritation from the smoke.

My crohn’s had gone into overdrive. I wasn’t digesting, I was in pain, and I needed help.

The reason the doctors agreed to finally treat my pain properly is that I told them, that once I got home I wouldn’t be taking dilaudid anymore.

Not one doctor stopped thinking about their fear of addiction long enough to hear what I was saying and remember their training. (more…)

What’s the Harm in “Female-Bodied”?

Guest post by America Yamaguchi

[CN: sexual assault]

 

“Female-bodied” is a term that is endlessly harmful.

It reduces cisgender women to their uterus. While childbearing is a massively important component of patriarchal harm, it goes far beyond that. It is also harmful to insist that childbearing or a uterus is what makes a woman a woman, both to trans people of all genders, and to cisgender women who are infertile for any reason. It compounds a major source of psychological distress to cis women who cannot have children. By the standards of “female-bodied” to mean the uterine body plan, a cisgender woman who is missing any aspect or has a dysfunction by any part, is bound to feel like less of a woman. Thus, this term directly attacks the womanhood of a variety of cis women as well as trans women.

(more…)

Children and Disability

Ever since I turned 27, the thought of children has been on my mind. At 28, I am now a year older than my mother was when she had me. I always thought that my life would go a certain way. I would get my degree, get married, start a career, and have a baby. All of this was supposed to happen before I was 30.

Then I got sick, and one by one those dreams went up in flame.

I couldn’t go to medical school. Not only that, but I might even be able to manage a regular job let alone a career.

I got a degree, but unlike I expected my whole life, I am graduating with a bachelor with no idea of when or if I will ever be able to get more.

Some things changed, but not for the worse, just became different. Instead of a husband, I have a wife. The important part of that: the love, the support, the companionship remains the same. We live in Canada for now, which mean marriage for us is possible.

And then there are children. (more…)

Robbing Peter to Pay Paul

Growing up I used to hear this expression a lot from my singing teacher. It usually meant that I was doing something with my throat or voice which, while sounding good at the moment, could do long term damage to my vocal cords. I’ve been thinking about this expression a lot lately.

Ever since it came up during a discussion with friends. I was explaining how some of my medication I seemed to take in order to deal with the side effects of other medications. The conversation turned into a discussion of side effects and I mentioned how almost all of mine have increased risk of cancer listed. I joked that the meds I were taking risked me dying a slow and painful death, however I take them to avoid dying a slow and painful death now.

I joked that I’m robbing Peter to pay Paul. (more…)

Don’t Make Me Pee In Your Fruitloops

It’s happening again.

Someone came up with a brilliant idea. Hey, why don’t we charge money for public toilets?

The reasoning is that by charging for bathrooms, the only people who will use them are people who actually have to go. Cut down on public sex, drug use, and raise money for the city all in one go!

Except?

Except this is just another example of how often the rights of the disabled are trampled over in the interest of “the greater good”.

What’s the big deal? It’s just a bathroom? If you can’t afford to use it, just wait till you get home?

Bathroom use is one of those interesting issues. On the surface we know that it effects everyone. One of the most recognized books in toilet training is literally called Everybody Poops. We don’t need to be socially convinced that people need access to washrooms. Where we make mistakes is in taking bathroom access for granted.

For the average person, if you need to use the bathroom, it is just a matter of finding one. You are able to devote a bit of time to looking for one, and if it takes a little while to find it, you are able to hold it in until you do. Chances are you have a restroom in your home and/or at work.

But some of us are not the average person. Some people are like me. (more…)

Sometimes the Cure Really is Puppies!

For the last several months, I have been dealing with increased Crohn’s like symptoms: an increase in pain, in nausea, and in extreme exhaustion. All the tests however are coming back normal. It’s possible that one of three things are going on:

  1. The symptoms are being caused by my IBS instead of my Crohn’s.
  2. My Crohn’s is active in my small bowel and we need new tests to detect it.
  3. I am one of the percentage of Crohn’s patients who have symptoms but the location of the disease is hard or impossible to find. Crohn’s sometimes likes to hide.

The doctor’s advice was for me to “take it easy” in the hopes that less stress will mean less symptoms. This is especially the case if the bulk of the symptoms are the result of the IBS. The problem of course is that in terms of stress, I am already on disability. I don’t work in the traditional sense, though I would argue with anyone who would try to say I don’t work. (Ever try to make 70 hats in under a month? Ever write a book?)

Most of my stress comes from the poverty that comes with being on disability. I live on a fixed income that was fixed long enough ago and hasn’t accounted nearly enough for inflation. I live on an income that depends on me having to make additional money but not so much that they start docking my support. My anxiety fixates on things, sometimes legitimate and sometimes not. In addition my depression sets off my anxiety.

If I can’t actually make more money and money is the leading cause of my stress, and I’ve already done as much as possible to relieve other forms of stress, what else is there?

I’ve looked at the problem extensively, and a thought emerged. You see, whenever I am around someone’s anxiety service dog that dog responds to me in a way indicating that they want to alert me. More than once, I’ve been alerted to an anxiety spiral by a dog on multiple occasions. When that happens, my sudden awareness of what is going on helped me work on therapy techniques to draw me away from the spiral.

It makes sense. When you live in a circumstance where some measure of nervousness and worry is justified, how do you differentiate regular worry from pathological anxiety?

For some time now, I had been considering the possibility of a service dog. The biggest barriers always seemed like a lack of easily accessible information, and an assumption that the costs would be prohibitive.

Then a little bit of luck came my way. I met a wonderful person who not only had an anxiety service dog, but had gone through the process herself. Her animal is what is called an owner-trained service animal, a designation that is not allowed in some places but luckily is in Ontario. Now, I am still learning what there needs to be learned, but I can say that an owner-trained service dog is NOT a fake service dog. It is simply one who was trained by the owner rather than by a specific program however, they both need to meet the same level of qualifications.

This person was willing to help me and let me know how to go about it.

With the consultation of my friend, and the pressure from my increasing symptoms, it seemed as though we were being pushed in that direction. In addition, our dog is starting to age and it getting to the point where a younger companion could do a lot to keep her in good health and extend her life. The final decision was aided with a promise from my parents to help with some of the costs in the form of a Christmas present.

We decided to give it a go and early this week we welcomed CJ (After CJ from West Wing) to our family.

Our choice of breed was dictated by a series of considerations:

  • Our home
  • Our lifestyle
  • My ability to handle certain weights

All of these considerations pointed us to a small dog. Toy breeds are also very attuned to humans since they grow up in much closer contact with people than other breeds.

My friend helped me administer a temperament test more than once, one based on one of the recognized assessment tests out there.

I will be writing about the process while I go through it. But first…. Puppy pictures!

Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy
Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy
Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy
Tiny Black and Beige Chihuahua Puppy