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amaranta
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Autoimmune Encephalitis Story (part 3)

Permanent Linkby amaranta on Wed Feb 21, 2018 3:41 am

In June 2016 I actually started to have some hope. No, I didn’t throw away my charcoal grills, but at least now there was something to research, testing to be done. Previously my psychiatrist told me that I had a choice between psychosis and antipsychotics and I don’t think that should ever be said to a patient. If the antipsychotics are not working and the psychosis is emotionally unbearable, what message are you sending your patient? Well you are giving them another reason to commit suicide – why live if the only choices you have are being non-functional and psychotic or being on olanzapine. Anytipsychotics do help some people and therefore they are a good choice for them but for me they were not working at all, so the right thing to say would be that more investigations would be done. As you see from the story, it was not the psychiatrist who ended up investigating, but my mom. So I got lucky, but it should not be this way. Access to proper treatment should not be based on luck and having someone googling your symptoms for you, this is the doctor’s job.

So in June 2016 I went off Trazadone, Latuda, Mirtazapine, Lorazepam. I only continued with Sertraline until October 2016. I started taking Cytomel (man-made version of thyroid hormone T3) and I got tested for celiac disease. The results were a ‘maybe’, inconclusive, but I still decided to try going gluten free and dairy free as some people with autoimmune disease do report improvement after eliminating those foods. Yes, some will say it is only anecdotal evidence, but when the way you feel on a daily basis makes you purchase hibachi grills, anecdotal evidence is good enough. Especially when the doctors have no suggestions or solutions for you. I was told that Hashimoto’s thyroiditis was not something to be too concerned about because it could affect the thyroid in the long run but at the moment my thyroid hormone levels were normal. I was told that I had nothing to worry about for the next twenty years. But then why were there old women, whom no one else notices, asking me to help them die? Why was I afraid of passing by Starbucks because hearing music from the speaker caused a feeling of grief? At that point I have not yet heard about autoimmune encephalitis, which is brain inflammation, so I had no answers to these questions.
Last edited by Snaga on Wed Feb 21, 2018 4:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

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