It'll Take A lot More Than Words and Guns

     A symptom I suffer on occasion that is especially debilitating is costochondritis. "Costochondritis is an inflammation of the junctions where the upper ribs join with the cartilage that holds them to the breastbone, or sternum. The condition causes localized chest pain that you can reproduce by pushing on the cartilage in the front of your ribcage." It feels like something is strongly compressing down on your upper chest. Not only is it quite painful, it makes it hard to breath. That's what I consider the most debilitating part even though this specific issue is not dangerous. When you can't breath properly you always start to wonder, "what if it's something serious this time?" I'm pretty sure this only started happening a few years ago, which makes me worry about additional complications arising over time. 

    I have always been worried about my pain suddenly worsening one day which is why I thought up contingency plans to make myself feel more comfortable by knowing there would always be a way out. At my worst point in 2011 I looked up the least painful ways to commit suicide. Overdose seemed best, but I already tried that twice. Guns seemed like the next best bet but how would a 'depressed' teenager get one? Worst comes to worst I decided I'd jump from somewhere high. That changed in 2012 after a trip to Arizona. I got to shoot a gun for the first time and was tempted then and there out of fear I'd never get better and might continue to get worse. I thought it might be the best opportunity I'd ever get. I decided that if I really degenerated to that point I'd find a way back to Arizona and do it. I don't think I've ever said this to anyone because giving away these plans would have robbed my of my only potential escape. I was miserable back then because it is when I was judged for health issues out of my control. After I got my diagnosis I was no longer miserable, but I certainly wasn't happy. The first few months at university had been the first time I'd been truly happy since my pain started, and I eventually became comfortable enough to reveal these secrets. There were several reasons for my newfound happiness. Since I'd finally made it to university I had a social life again. I started to have more good days than bad but this is only because I'd been sleeping in ridiculously late (on certain days I woke up at 5 pm) along with taking dangerous amounts of pills. I was in the middle of what might have been my favourite book series of all time (there's around 45 books in the series and I'm halfway done and so am ridiculously immersed.) I'm obsessively excited about my appointment at the new EDS clinic. Because of my unique diagnosis confirmed by a skin biopsy there was a good chance they'd test the newest treatments on me, they told me as much over the phone. I was glad I'd probably be able to go back to a summer camp I'd been going to since 2007 for what was probably one last year. Lastly, I'm trying to contain nerdgasms from the prospect of upgrading my computer. I played video games far less often than i used to due to school studies and being in the vicinity of friends but I was looking forward to a little me time over the summer. For the other nerds out there, I'll be able to play in 4k resolution (far better than HD) which allows for truly next-level occasional escapism from pain. This happiness presents as me singing to myself on occasion and having more a spring to my step. I was also really proud of myself for being able to manage getting around campus on a regular bike. I thought I might need to buy an electric one or even a scooter but that had not so far been the case. Biking isn't easy however, it's still very painful, especially when going uphill. Still, it is far less painful than walking. 

    Recently I became ecstatic because I discovered that since September the medical community has been actively working on a gene therapy cure not just for Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, but for my type specifically (Hypermobility Type.) I was under the impression that they wouldn't start working on a cure until they finished tracking down all the genes that cause it. Even then, I assumed they'd be prioritizing a cure for the vascular type, since half of the people who have that are dead by their 40s. I was wrong on both counts, but I was obviously not complaining. Essentially, the cure would arrive a lot sooner than I originally thought. In contrast to these joyous developments, I was getting more and more stressed about my medication overdosing issue. It didn't help that several people in an EDS group I joined kept trying to convince me I was going to die from the amount of quetiapine I took. I had written a post asking for new medication ideas that I haven't tried yet. When I mentioned my dosage they kept insisting I'm in serious danger. I told them I posted asking for medications, not advice, and that they should let me know once they're done medical school (my many doctors do not think I'm in danger of anything other than diabetes.) A typical high dose of quetiapine would be 300, which is what I used to be on a few years ago. I now take 1950, but the lethal dose for quetiapine is 30 000. Admittedly, I was on many other medication that can suppress breathing. I've been doing this for a long time though. I was hoping the upcoming EDS Clinic appointment at the end of April will be able to give me some answers as to why I need to take such high doses of medication to get such a small effect.