GL's Story - My Story
I had what I thought was a bad start to the year this year. One thing after another and, to be honest, it got to the point where I thought I had a serious terminal illness and thought that I was going to die leaving my young family behind. I bottled all of this up not talking to anyone or looking for help. I did eventually go to my GP who was great but I was never able to until recently able to be completely honest. I will start in March although as I was to learn this was not really where my problems began. I was going for a weekend away at Wigwams with my family. I felt fine on the Friday morning when we were getting ready to go and then I started feeling really sick and spend the next 8 hours or so with my head down the toilet - food poisoning or a nasty stomach bug most likely but I was already thinking it was something much more sinister.
Only a few weeks later I woke up on a Saturday morning felling exactly the same way again. Now I really was starting to worry a lot. I was sick all weekend but by Monday morning was feeling fine for work. However after work I had a little dinner and was sick again for most of the night. Around midnight I noticed some blood in my vomit and I broke into a complete panic. I was convinced that I would soon be dead. I was frantic, running up and down my bedroom not knowing what to do. I decided that I would go to the 24 hour GP. I was so convinced that I was dying that I said goodbye to my children as they slept. I was seen very quickly and the doctor was great and spent a long time chatting to me. After examining me he gave me an injection to stop my sickness and assured me that all I had was a nasty bug and that the blood had most likely been caused by being sick so much. Phew what a relief. Not dying yet. He asked me about my health in general and I mentioned that I had not been feeling great in general and that I thought I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Again he reassured me and encouraged me to go and see my usual GP and talk about these things.
For a long time - years in fact - I had avoided going to the doctors like the plague even I know there have been times when I should have went if only for my own piece of mind. But I would put it off or find excuses not to go. I would get letters reminding me every 6 months to go in and get my blood pressure checked as I suffer from high blood pressure. My reaction to these letters was to ignore them and instead worry more about my health. I decided now that I had to go and see my GP and be more honest. So I went along and the doctor was really nice and really patient as she listened to my worries and, like the other doctor, was very reassuring. I opened up and told her I had been a bit miserable, distracted and worried. I also told her that I was worried I was drinking too much which I knew I was. She agreed that I mostly likely did have IBS and decided to do a full blood work including liver function so make sure all was physically ok. I felt a little better after leaving and tried to put my health worries out of my mind.
That was on the Tuesday and on the Friday we were again going to the Wigwams, this time with my friends. When I woke up on the Thursday, I had this awful feeling that I was going to be ill on the Friday and not be able to go. It was with me all day and I could not shake the feeling. I had a restless night, the first of what would be many. Finally I got some sleep and as I feared, I woke up on the Friday feeling awful. I felt like I was going to be really sick at any moment and was terrified that I was going to bring up blood. This was all I could think about and it terrified me. I had no appetite and no energy and could literally not face the day. I tried not to let this show as I did not want to ruin anyone’s weekend. So I tried to get moving and get organised for going despite feeling so awful. We were just getting ready to go when I was hit with a hammer blow. Shortly after 2pm, the doctor phoned to say that the blood works showed some potential problems with my liver and that I was to go for a scan. I was now more convinced than ever that I was dying. I actually remember asking the doctor if I was going to die and, again, she was very reassuring but she would have been as well talking to someone else. I was already convinced that I had liver cancer and that I would soon be dead. Why else would I be feeling so awful? Again I bottled this up telling only my wife and my brother who happens to be a GP who was also very reassuring. But I could not be reassured now. At the Wigwams, I put on a happy face but all I wanted to do was to go back home and go to my own bed and stay there. Like a normal weekend away everyone wanted to eat drink and be merry but I could not face food let alone drink. I could not wait for the weekend to be over.
When I got home on the Sunday I felt a little better. My appetite had returned a little and I was starting to feel better in my own mind. In fact I went on to have a really great week. I ate healthily and did exercise every day. I was feeling better than I had done in ages. Then on the Saturday morning the letter I had been dreading arrived telling me I was to go for my liver ultrasound on the Thursday. Life just stopped. I was gripped with terror and I could think of nothing worse than going for this. I was convinced that I was going to be diagnosed with liver cancer.
At this point I became a little devious. I knew there was a possibility that I could be working in London that day so I decided to make sure that I would be on London for the bulk of the week. On the Monday I organised this and then contacted the Ultrasound department and explained that I was working away but I exaggerated this saying I would be working away for the next 3 weeks and then would be on holiday for 2 weeks – at least the holiday part was true – and that I would contact them upon my return to reschedule. Great - they were fine with this! In my mind problem solved. I would work for 3 weeks go on holiday for 2 and by the time I got back this would all be forgotten about. I felt fantastic again like a weight off my mind. I started to get ready to head for London the next day. Then it hit me. When I went to bed that night I had an overwhelming feeling of fatigue, nausea and a buzzing feeling in my head. It was overwhelming. I don’t ever recall feeling so awful. This is when I had my first full panic attack. I was gasping for air convinced I would die at any moment. My wife managed to help me relax a little. I lay awake all night more convinced that ever my life was at an end.
The next day was the day I realised that I was in real trouble. The feeling of nausea was so intense, I could not face food at all – very unlike me. I had no energy and the buzzing in my head would not go away. I had to go to my little girl’s sports day feeling like this then spend 7 hours on trains to get to where I was working near London. To say that the day was a nightmare would be an understatement. When I arrived in my hotel, I was so uptight and could not understand why I was not hungry. I decided that I would force myself to eat so I tried a pot noodle and ate about 2 or 3 mouthfuls. I could not face it. I eventually fell asleep I think through sheer exhaustion.
The next 5 – 6 weeks were utter hell. When I woke to go to work, I again felt awful. The nausea was still with me. My head was still buzzing. I felt exhausted and getting out of bed took a supreme effort. I really thought I was on my way out and, being in London, I was worried I would not see my children again. I made it into work and did well to get through the day. I went straight to bed when I got back to the hotel but I could not sleep or eat. The feelings would not go away. I hardly slept a wink that night. The next day I sat in an office in London for over 2 hours not moving or doing anything, just thinking that my life was over and regretting the things I had left undone. At this point, I decided to contact the Ultrasound Department and try and get an appointment to get my liver checked. I had reached a point of desperation and I was actually hoping that I had something wrong with me. At least then, perhaps, something could be done about it. I had an awful train journey home and had some very dark thoughts. I started to think with the way I was feeling that I would simply be better off dead. My mortgage would get paid and my wife and children would get life insurance money and money from my employer. It seemed like the easiest option. I was so pleased to get home but had not energy to play with my children. That really upset me. I had not eaten in days now but had no appetite I just wanted to get to bed.
The next day I was still feeling exactly the same. I checked my weight and I had lost 6lb in 4 days. This helped to convince me that I was going to die. I tried to force down a bowl of cereal but could not swallow. I could feel the panic swelling up. I called my brother at work and I confess I broke down in tears and told him that I was dying. He was able to comfort and I regained some composure. I contacted my work and took a day’s leave. My brother came round at lunchtime and took me out and we talked about my problems. I also was able to see my GP in the late afternoon who was again fantastic and assured me saying I was anxious and depressed. She gave me some tablets to help with sleep and assured me that she was certain that the liver scan would not show any serious issues. She did try to sign me off work but I resisted this. This would turn out to be a mistake.
I felt great when I left the doctors, the best I had felt in weeks to be honest and I was hungry. I had a nice dinner and spent a nice night with my wife and children. I felt cured. I took a sleeping tablet and got a good night’s sleep for the first time in so long. I really believed it was over and that I was cured. How wrong could I be? I woke on the Saturday morning feeling ok, had some cereal and started my day. Within hours I could feel myself getting anxious. I started to feel sick again and before I knew it, I was feeling worse than ever. I went to see my brother that evening and talking to him sure helped but I was just the same again on Sunday and on the Monday. My brother spoke to my GP and arranged for me to go back to see her. My GP insisted that I take time off work and signed me off work for 4 weeks. She also prescribed medication for anxiety / depression and referred me for counselling. The next 6 weeks were a nightmare. The medication made me feel sicker. Luckily I got some other medication from the doctor to help with that. I continued to have low energy and often felt so tired that I just wanted to stay in bed. Sleep became almost impossible. I was afraid to go to bed for fear of not sleeping and afraid to get out of bed in the morning in case I felt sick again. It was a vicious circle. On the day of my liver scan I was a nervous wreck and was almost sick during the scan. The results came back showing “fatty liver disease” which is what both my GP and brother though would be the case. Despite having a full abdominal ultrasound and full blood work and being examined by a number of doctors, I still could not shut off and still could not get back to feeling better. On one day alone, I was convinced that I had both cancer of the tongue and bone cancer I could not shake these dark thoughts.
With a lot of help from my family, friends, GP and therapist and from this website I started to make progress and am now feeling like myself again but it has been a tough few months. I did not realise that being anxious could make me feel so ill. I have learned that I can’t put medical checks off and that if I am worried about things that I need to do something about it and get the help I need. Sleep is still an issue but I am getting better with this. I do still have bad days and have had a number of panic attacks but I have gone from every day being bad to every other day being bad to having long runs of good days which really has made life worth living again.
As I said at the start, my problems did not just begin in March and from talking to my therapist it has became apparent that I have always has these anxious thoughts and worries even when young but the combination of incidents so close together pushed me over the edge.
GL
