Two for two.

Today was another appointment that went well. It usually does at my reprogramming, they’re stress free and the staff are a good laugh. 

I was able to discuss yesterday’s appointment with my neurosurgeons nurse practitioner, along with the issue that widespread inflammation is causing me. Especially in relation to my Hemicrania and occipital neuralgia, which is to say it becomes excruciating when I have high inflammation. Along with my head, it causes nerve pain in my hands and feet especially. 

With my head on top, it’s truly unbearable and usually arrives around evening time. Currently the only thing I can do is apply volterol, but I have to limit how much of this I can use. Despite this, the high inflammation is getting worse, happening upto 3-4 nights a week. 

However, the NP was fantastic and is writing to my GP to push them to actually investigate this rather than passing it off as an another complex symptom they don’t know what to do with. We’ve ruled out MCAS as the cause, so we need them to look for the reason this is happening and getting less manageable. So to know that she’s going to help push my doctor to investigate this properly is reassuring. 

Overall, while the lead up to this week was daunting, I’m really happy with the outcomes. It feels like I’ve made the most progress with these issues than I have in the last 5 years. At least in terms of the NHS and getting some support. I do a lot myself as I’ve previously discussed, but I am limited in my knowledge of what my body is doing and why it’s so challenging to live with the body I have now.

There’s only so many supplements I can add in the hopes they fix the issues I’m dealing with. They help to an extent, but my legs and inflammation are beyond anything I’ve tried to help. 

Now I’ll be resting for the foreseeable future, with a little sigh of relief that this week I was finally seen, heard and most of all, believed. 

Light at the end of the tunnel.

I just came to do a write up on today’s appointment with a neurologist, who specialises in functional neurology. Or dysfunctional. 

Arguably this may have been the best appointment I’ve had in the last 5 years, aside from actually explaining why my body is misfiring all over, she’s actually doing referrals to help me manage it all more effectively. 

Something happened which initially triggered the symptoms I have. Now I’m stuck in a cycle where the symptoms have become the triggers, like how when I’ve done more than I should have (sometimes just washing up), it then triggers internal vibrations and tremors. Or pain, inflammation and neuropathy.

She believes my main issues are chronic fatigue syndrome, dysautonomia and FND (Functional Neurological Disorder). These cover everything, including tremors, POTS, light sensitivity, cognitive dysfunction, temperature regulation issues, sensory issues. The list really does go on and the problem is that I’ve got a LOT of it. She pointed out how every key symptom of ME I have, then add in dysautonomia and FND issues and it’s the world’s shittiest cocktail.

She explained how the infrastructure in the NHS limits what help is available, despite how much she wants to help me. That being said, she’s doing a lot. First step is for me to do research using websites, apps and podcasts/audiobooks she’s sent me. These will give me a better understanding of how it all works together, the idea being that the more I understand how my body works, the better I can listen to my body and try to reduce triggers. She’s also getting me on the list for the FND Education course to help with this too. 

The idea around “use it or lose it” is true, but it has to be using it while trying to avoid triggering more symptoms to kick off. So she’s referring me for neuro-physiotherapy to help build better connections between my brain and body, and maybe even see some improvement. But at least better management. This may also help bring my body to a place where I could consider a manual wheelchair in some situations, to bring in more movement. She’s happy with how/when I use my electric wheelchair, but she doesn’t think my body could currently cope with the exertion of using a manual chair. 

She’s going to ask my GP to finally refer me to a chronic fatigue clinic. She can’t do this referral, given it would come from a service which technically covers ME/CFS it would likely be refused. So asking my GP to do it should give me a chance of getting into this service to get a management plan for the CFS. 

She’s happy with the therapy I’ve done with Lee, and that I’m continuing with a new therapist (I still miss Lee!). So she isn’t going to do a MH referral for CBT, for which I’m grateful. If you’ve been here since the start, you’ll know CBT put me in a very dangerous place before I found Lee. 

I also have an app for tracking energy and emotions, including identifying where in the body I feel this emotion. I do a lot of energy work, and clearing emotions, so I think this will help strengthen these practices a lot. 

Needless to say, I’m fucking exhausted. It was in an old building at Southmead, where the car park is at the top of a hill. My car was parked higher than the roof of the building I was in. My legs are wrecked, I’m home with some tremors and internal vibrations and I’m totally empty. But I do think this appointment was worth it. 

There’s only so much I can do myself to help manage symptoms, but being disabled with absolutely no support, physio or occupational therapy is hard work. It’s certainly not something I’m going to have the knowledge on how to properly manage or even fix. So to finally have someone who’s referring me for help with this feels like a huge success, along with understanding why it’s all happening in the first place. 

And bonus points because she highlighted that it all started after my vaccine, including the Hemicrania and occipital neuralgia. I don’t raise this in appointments now, but she’d read my records and made the observation herself which was great. 

Now I’m switching off; tomorrow I have to be in Southmead for reprogramming at 9:20 am, so I’m going to need all the rest I can get to be able to drive safely there and back! 

Rest, repeat.

CoQ10 is not the answer to everything, but I do feel a little brighter in my suffering. If that’s a thing. 

The 3 days bliss I had were fantastic, but I’ve been paying the price since. I haven’t seen anyone, and my only adventure out was to take my chair to Swindon for its service last Tuesday and pick it up on Thursday. Outside of this, I’ve been back to bed and chair rotting. 

It seems to have worked, I am starting to feel better today. I have therapy shortly, and only have plans on Wednesday and Friday this week. It’ll be a few hour with friends on each day, which I really hope doesn’t cause the level of rest I’ve needed the past week or so. Even so, it’s going be good to see people and escape the house for a little bit. 

Edited to add: Wednesday was a day with my Goddaughter and her parents. Nothing crazy, we went to a local lake/woodland for a walk which was exactly what I needed. The peace and healing of nature, with the joy of sharing it with loved ones. I even got to limbo a gate in my chair like the big kid I am! 

Next week I’m in Southmead on Tuesday AND Wednesday. Both early appointments which will see me leaving between 8-8.30 which is long before my “functioning” time. But it’s necessary. Tuesday I see the functional neurologist regarding the FND, the appointment everyone hopes will bring in the help and support I’ve needed for nearly 5 years.

Wednesday is to see the reprogramming team and my neurosurgeon. Truthfully, I don’t think the programme is the issue. I’ve had issues with inflammation since the vaccine, and it’s only getting worse, despite the reduction in histamine foods. I don’t think it’s an MCAS issue, When my inflammation is up, it’s like it’s pressing on the nerves in my head and causing truly unbearable pain that nothing I do helps. That’s not an issue with the implant, but I honestly don’t know where else to turn.

I’ve had issues with my head and neck since the vaccine, it was the first issue to make its presence known. I’ve told everyone how it feels like my neck can’t support my head. I cannot be upright and unsupported for more than a few hours without pain and issues. Even when upright I’m normally supporting my head on my hand to appear “fine” and delay the pain. 

But mostly I’m dreading the appointments, and not just because of my anxiety around appointments. 2 days in a row, early mornings, and a level of fatigue that I’m really struggling with. Southmead is about the same distance as where my chair went for its service, when I dropped it off I was confined to my bed for the rest of the day. The chair was ready the next day but I couldn’t get up, I knew I couldn’t do the drive again. So I went Thursday, when I felt like I’d be able to do the drive safely. And I haven’t managed anything since. I did those drives at lunchtime, during my “functional” hours.

Managing my health is challenging at the best of times, even harder when I do my best not to appear like I’m struggling around other people. I’m working on that but it’s not easy, my health makes me uncomfortable and I don’t want it making others uncomfortable either. But it’s also exhausting wearing that mask, pushing my body beyond its limits to have a few hours where I can pretend everything is fine.

Those hours of being “fine” do a lot for me, wearing that mask so I can just focus on enjoying something and putting a blindfold on so I’m not distracted by my health too. I’m sure that sounds a bit silly to most, but to get a little taste of joy, and life, like how I used to is what keeps me going.

So I hope, for everyone, that this week is easier and lighter. I hope it for myself too so I can enjoy my pockets of joy and some time in the sun with Riley!

CoQ10.

The CoQ10 arrived quicker than expected and I got to start it yesterday. I’ve been dealing with unmanageable pain from HC and occipital neuralgia for a few weeks now, so to say I’ve been inactive doesn’t quite cut it. 

But today, despite the pain, I managed to do a fair bit of work on my laptop, played for longer with Riley in the sun and helped dry up dishes for my mum. This might seem small, but it’s pretty big. It could be a total coincidence and I’ve just managed to access my energy a little easier, like Saturdays cleaning, but it could also be a good sign from this supplement. 

I wrote the above paragraphs on Wednesday, now it’s Friday and I’ll tell you what I’ve done for the rest of the week. 

Thursday started off slow, Riley and I played and enjoyed some time together in the garden. Then I had a soak in a bath, washed AND styled my hair and helped a little with dinner prep. 

Today has been a busier one, Friday lunch times my dad comes round for coffee and a catch-up. Before he arrived, I was up at 10.30, nearly an hour earlier than I’ve been managing the last few weeks. Mum brought me a big trough to plant some wildflower seeds, so I got dressed and played with Riley. Then I got the trough out, lugged 3 bags of compost into in and scattered my seeds before watering. I stayed in the garden with Riley while he continued playing by himself, just enjoying being outside. Then I had a slightly longer than usual visit with dad, and now I’m sitting in the sun of a hired secure field. Riley is pretty tired, given I’ve had more energy to train and exercise him this week, so throwing balls is a sporadic. We’re just sitting, enjoying the sun in the grass, lightening to the birds and writing this little entry. 

I also managed to walk nearly to the bottom of the field and back. I couldn’t make it all the way, but I was closer to the bottom than the top so I’m thrilled. 

I’m sleeping better, I have the energy to eat better rather than consuming easy calories in the hopes for some energy and I just feel good. 

My legs are still shit, my head is improving, and clearly my energy is more stable. I’m still not able to do a lot, by a normal persons standards I’d be pretty shit. But for me, if this remains consistent and I can reduce my crashes and flares, then CoQ10 is the best money I’ve spent since the vaccine.  I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, this could just be a better few days which are like gold dust. But dare I say, I feel a little hope and for once it doesn’t feel so scary.

Life can be hard, but joy wins.

I’ve just had therapy, which I was late for. I’m almost never late, now more than ever I’m aware of the value of time and so I try to respect when it’s given to me. But today I was late, not for an important reason either but simply because I forgot. 

It’s in my diary, which I check before I go to sleep and after I wake it. I also have alerts on my diary items, the therapy one goes off an hour before. Yet, I know I spent the hour after that alert blissfully unaware of an upcoming appointment. In the same way that in the last few weeks I’m forgetting the most basic of things, like taking medication which also have alarms and, worst of all, flushing the fucking toilet. 

At 32, I suddenly have an inability to remembering a toilet routine I was taught when I was a baby. I also forgot an arrange call with a friend last week that was, again, in the diary I repeatedly check. 

It’s been a rough old week, though it has had some nice glimmers. But on the whole my pain has been unmanageable and such intense fatigue that today I couldn’t even make myself something to eat when I was hungry. This of course means it’s very hard for my little brain to manage much thinking at all. 

And when I did feel better, I made full use of it. Now? I’m back to unbearable pain and fatigue. 

That’s the hardest thing about this journey, when I have a week like this it’s hard to not feel defeated, resigned to this being my fate. When I start to feel better, I’ll have hope again that the universe will change my path and give me signs for the right direction to take for improvement.

But I’ve learned not to fight what I’m feeling so much. Aside from the fact it’s a waste of my valuable energy, it also traps me in that headspace for longer. So, I face what I’m feeling, allowing it to pass through me without a fight. 

That doesn’t mean I also don’t wish for some respite. I wish I could take a little weekend trip to the coast, without my health following, so I can come back rested and ready to face reality again. But, that’s not how this works. 

The same way that I’m to come of the pregabalin, knowing my pain will increase permanently and that there isn’t an alternative lined up for me. That’s a bitter pill to swallow sometimes. 

But, I had therapy, and I discussed all this. I also discussed how I felt lighter for writing and sharing my health journey. My therapist encouraged me to write it, and it did help. Next week she’s on holiday, so she’s asked me to keep writing and keep releasing these thoughts which I’d rather weren’t occupying my mind.

Aren’t you guys lucky! I’ll pass on your thanks. 

I’ll round off by sharing the glimmers from this week, it’s important to celebrate to successes when they come.

Saturday I felt a little better, so I decided to clear my handi-crap drawers. These are a set of drawers that sit beside my recliner and contain my handy crap. This includes a drawer for medication and supplements, a drawer which contains potions and lotions for pain and inflammation, compressions socks and gloves, nail files and clippers and my fancy pens reserved for writing important letters and cards. The last drawer contains some mindfulness activity books (great for screen-free time), dog brushes and clippers, my laptop and all the charging cables I could possibly need and my collection of heat packs and hot water bottles. 

You didn’t need all that information but it’s too late now – you know how I feel about editing. The drawers had become disorganised and messy, desperately in need to a spring clean. So I did that first, then I hoovered the living room; twice, because the first time I forgot to empty the hoover and it didn’t do a sufficient job. Hoovering is a red, red task. It’s a very high energy task but one I feel a sense of accomplishment for doing. 

Meanwhile, mum cleaned the kitchen, hoovered my bedroom and did multiple loads of our laundry. 

Sunday, we kept it low key as my mum isn’t one for celebrating occasions. So we had a quiet day, an early evening walk in the field with Riley and a KFC on the way home. She’s a lucky lady! 

The field was a secure field I’d booked, I usually take Riley on my own and so don’t dare walk down to the bottom of the field. It’s probably around 100-150 meters, downhill, but that’s means I have to get back to the top. But having my mum with me, and wanting to truly interact with my Riley, I grabbed my stick and decided I was going to walk the whole field. And fuck me was it hard, coming back up got so hard that at points all my body would do was bounce me up and down on the spot rather than actually take a step. 

I talk about my legs a lot, what I don’t say is that fighting with them is fucking exhausting and comes with pain. Not just pain in the moment, but I was trying to drive home with muscles spasming, numb toes and freezing burning pain. Then I have to get compression socks on, creams and heat. However, I made it to the bottom of that field with a great big smile on my face and my heart felt all fuzzy and warm (and it wasn’t the POTS!), and that’s what I’m holding onto. The joy I felt in that moment, with my dog so excited that he was literally bouncing around us. Like me, being there with him, was the greatest thing in the world. And it was for me too. 

Also someone tried to comment on my health story and ask if I’d tried sex, and I found this childishly hilarious.

So there, enjoy my glimmers like I do. I come here with everything, I process and discuss and moan, but I also celebrate because every bit of joy I get is what keeps me fighting. And this week I will start taking CoQ10, a supplement that I hope will have a positive impact on my energy so that I can get more joy.

Keep ya fingers crossed for me! 

Why I write and how you can help.

In hindsight, my last entry should have been divided into another 2 or 3 posts. Personally, that felt too much like thinking and also because I didn’t want to drag it out or make a spectacle of my medical experiences. It’s not what it was for. I also didn’t realise how much there was to cover since October 2023, it’s not like I’ve made many advances. Like with everything, I write without thinking and post. Maybe a day or two later I go back and check for errors. 

The writing for me is about clearing emotions and thoughts, sharing it helps me detach from those feelings and thoughts while also, hopefully, helping someone else in the process. 

Writing and posting my story in full felt like a big step in my healing, to me not identifying with the wrongs that have been done in my care. I’ve felt a lot less angry since I released them.

It sometimes makes me feel vulnerable, because I’m divulging very personal information and experiences. I’m sharing my own trauma with the world and if I think on that too much I panic, so I stick with not thinking and hoping that what I share is well received. 

But it does open doors for further conversation, particularly around the difference in care from the same health service. I know someone diagnosed with arthritis who has been offered trauma therapy because of how life changing this diagnosis is; they still manage work full time and live a full life, but this condition significantly affects them and comes with limitations. Their condition does cause them mobility issues, fatigue and high pain; the therapy is absolutely what should be offered. But why isn’t that the consistent standard of care? 

This is what I hope comes from the work UKCVFamily are doing for the vaccine injured and bereaved. Not just therapy, but this attention to care that shows compassion. I’ve experienced very little compassionate care in this journey, I’ve certainly not been offered trauma therapy because of the life changing health issues I have.  I can no longer work, my mums my carer and I’ve only managed to see my friends and family twice since the start of the year. 

My story is just one of thousands experiencing the same neglect. That makes me incredibly sad because shouldn’t that have changed by now? We’re 5 years on since the vaccines were released and there has been no improvement in our care or the support provided, because it’s not being provided at all in most cases.

I still have to pay for therapy to cope with the vaccine changing my life so significantly and horrifically. I still can’t get physio, occupational therapy, sufficient pain relief, or even my daily symptoms being accurately recorded in my medical records. Entire conversations are being excluded and I just can’t think of a reason for this at all.

The answer is that there’s no excuse and the outcome is that patients are being failed every day. I will fail to get help for potentially having POTS because there’s nothing about it written on my notes. Doctors will continue to ask why I attended using a walking stick or wheelchair because of the lack of acknowledgment of my diagnosed disabilities on my medical records. And people will see the GP mention my “post-Covid fatigue” before they see the diagnosis of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome because my medical records aren’t up to date with being coded accurately. 

This is what I hope to change when I have the energy to formally complain. Not because I have the delusional belief that my one complaint will fix a broken system that covers the entire UK, and the world, but simply because I know mine will add to a long list of other people making the same complaints.

My story, and the story of others, aren’t a conspiracy theory. 

If you read one or both parts to my story, thank you – I can recommend some good therapists. If you feel compelled to try and help, please consider making a donation to UKCVFamily to help support their efforts in trying to change the system and get the support people like me so desperately need. 

https://www.ukcvfamily.org/donate

My 5 Year Journey Post-vaccine: Part 2

I’m a bit blown away by how many people resonated with the first part of my story. I shouldn’t be, I’ve heard hundreds of stories like mine, most even worse. Mine is not unique.

So, I’d left it around 2-weeks post implant, October 2023. It was around summer/autumn that I stated to have little accidents. Nothing major, just small leaks.

As we know I was already disabled, and some days were ok but other days my legs were particularly difficult to get to move in a coordinated way. But the PEM was still a real problem. Some days if I’d managed to see a friend, I’d be ok, other times it could make everything worse for a week or more or even send me into a full-blown flare. I was also starting to get louder about my legs, tremors, burning pains, weakness etc. I was getting the implant, and my HC and Occipital neuralgia were going to get better, so now I could look at what else what on my list of problems with more gusto.

I’d pushed for a referral to Rheumatology which was denied, so I pushed for physio. Yes, over 2.5 years post vaccine, already disabled and I hadn’t even been offered physio. There was NOTHING offered to me, no support, no help, I fought for everything. What I specifically wanted was to try hydrotherapy, because I was doing my own physio with no benefit and had to be very limited, so it didn’t cause PEM. I should add, I still wasn’t diagnosed with CFS at the star, but I recognised that I was experiencing PEM with a little common sense.

I was referred to my local physio, who after doing a quick chat said I needed much more specialist care than they could offer, and they couldn’t do hydrotherapy. So, they referred me to the Rheumatology physios at the RUH. Where the rheumatologist didn’t want to see me.

The physio appointment was not even remotely what I was expecting. We spent a long time going through everything, over an hour of just being sat down talking. I discussed how in the evenings I came downstairs for dinner and stayed downstairs until bed. But that throughout the day, and the evening, I managed my fluid intake. Particularly in the evening, because I couldn’t manage an additional trip upstairs to go to the toilet before bed. So, I managed my fluids so I could wait until bedtime. I discussed how my mum did nearly all the cooking, cleaning and shopping. How she helped me with personal care when I physically couldn’t manage it, walking my dog for me, just about everything. She asked if I’d considered a commode downstairs. I was 30 at the time of this appointment, no I bloody well hadn’t.

She then said she wasn’t sure they could help me, and that occupational therapy would likely be the next step. But that she still had more questions so to book a follow-up on my way out.

I was still constantly chasing my GP for help and support. I’d changed GPs after my assigned GP was very dismissive, including the fact that he was (and still is) marking my monthly medication reviews as being complete, but I hadn’t had one since early 2022. So, I started booking to see a different GP who would at least listen to me, not perfect, but a much less traumatic experience. My neurologist kept telling me there was nothing wrong with me, this was just a case of “these things happen” and “as quick as it’s started, it can stop again.”

In 2024, I’d finally admitted to my GP that I was having continence issues, but also without feeling that it had happened or when it was happening. Which led me to realise that actually I couldn’t feel myself urinating at all. I had some issues with numbness and pains and needles, but it was always short lived and so on the list of symptoms I deal with but haven’t got the energy to chase down with the doctors. This was getting to be a long list. This along with my mobility issues was causing me great concern and we really needed to stop ignoring it. As I’d had the implant, I could no longer have MRI scans.

I’d had many MRIs since I was an early teenager, when my migraines started and a pineal cyst was found. Then again when the HC started and one post-vaccine. My neurologist told me there was absolutely no findings and no changes to previous findings. Yet when I met my neurosurgeon later in 2021, he used that same MRI to diagnose mild Chiari malformation, bloody vessels attached to certain nerves and a “distortion” of some nerves. What j got stuck on was how many MRIs I’d had in my life, and no one had ever mentioned Chiari malformation before.

So, I couldn’t have more MRIs, this led me to discussing the issue with my neurosurgeon’s team, who would be very interested in finding out if j had a problem with my nerves and suggested my doctor order a CT Myelogram of my head and pelvis. What was ordered was a standard CT of my pelvis.

So, when it came back and clear, I tried to speak to my doctor who was unavailable. So, I spoke to another doctor at my GP surgery. I begged for the correct scan to be ordered, once again having to explain why I couldn’t have an MRI, which led to being asked what HC was and why I needed an implant for it. But I again asked for the correct CT to be ordered. When I spoke to one of the doctors, she’d previously agreed to order the original scan because she felt like a lot of these issues highlighted an issue with my nerves. Including possible MS. The doctor I was currently sat with was the trial opposite, no interest in helping me. I said, “if the doctor suspects I have a nerve problem, but you won’t fix the error made by this surgery by ordering the right scan, how will I get better? What am I supposed to do now?”

“You get on with it.”

I’m not an argumentative person, and 99% of the time I won’t pull you up on something hurtful you’ve done. But I was exasperated. I asked whether he would say that if I was his daughter, sat here, pleading for someone to help her. He accepted it was easy for him to sit there and say that, but his decision was final.

The scan was reviewed by the spinal surgery consultants at the RUH who called me in for an appointment. The lady I met I initially hoped would help me, instead she explained that they don’t do CT myelogram at the RUH, that I’d need a specialist centre line Southmead to have that specific scan. But that the normal CT showed my spinal cord was fine, and the calcification of some vertebrae was normal. I asked how they could be sure there wasn’t peripheral nerve damage or an issue elsewhere on my spine. She said there was a chance my issues could be explained by there being compression of my spinal cord in my neck, but that even if they found and removed the issue, I wouldn’t get better, it would only stop me getting worse. I said YES! That’s all I want, someone to stop me continuing to get worse, it’s all I’m chasing for at this point. But she said they wouldn’t do another CT because I’d had one and that would be more radiation, which I said was a risk I’d take. She said I’d need to see Southmead but declined to do the referral. That was my doctor’s job. She then wrote in my letter that I walked with a normal gait, when I’d agonisingly staggered from the car park.

To add salt to my wounds, I’d seen my neurologist again who again had told me there was nothing wrong with me. I pleaded, but I’m in my 30s without children, I shouldn’t be wetting myself and I should be able to feel when I have! She led me on a bed, testing basic reflexes and poking me with a pin to mid-thigh: “see you felt that there’s nothing wrong with you, Chloe.” I didn’t say I couldn’t feel my legs, not today anyway. She said it was my bodies “perfectly natural response to pain”.

In my appointment letter, she’d written that I walked with a normal gait again. She’d also added two new diagnoses to the letter: chronic pain and chronic fatigue syndrome. But she didn’t tell me this in the appointment, in the appointment I was told there was nothing wrong with me and once again “the vaccine hasn’t done anything to you”.

Because I was waiting for the CT scans, I postponed my follow-up with rheumatology physio because I hoped I’d have something supporting to go in there with. Something that they could help me with. I admit that with the scan, doctors’ appointments, and neurology and spinal teams causing me devastating disappointment, I didn’t rebook to see them. I couldn’t see the point when I was no further forward than when I first saw her, and she’d already told me she didn’t think she could help me then. The last thing I needed now was to once again be told to get a commode.

Follow the appointment letter from my neurologist, I went to see her another new GP I’d started with. The one who was keen to help and ordered the original CT had left the practice, but I’d found another who would at least not totally gaslight me. I explained that I would not be accepting any further appointments with my neurologist, that she’d repeatedly caused me harm that meant I needed to pay for extra therapy sessions. The GP, in trying to help, said that she’d been my neurologist since I was 12/13, so it was probably quite challenging for her to differentiate to how I was now, compared to 3-4 years ago. I pointed out that if she couldn’t make an unbiased clinical observation of the patient sitting in front of her right now then she shouldn’t be practicing medicine.

And I was still bloody wetting myself! Not much changed or happened from this point. In 2024 I’d started having severe food reactions, including passing out and not being able to breathe. By the end of summer 2024, I was restricted to just a simple chicken salad as it was the only thing I didn’t react to and eating had become very scary.

The doctor ordered allergy tests which came back clear and insisted I saw the dietician as eating chicken salad only wasn’t good for me. So I went to the dietician, expecting a lecture on healthy eating. I competed as a powerlifter, I knew all about how to eat well because I had a nutritionist for a few seasons teach me. I didn’t need teaching how to suck eggs, though I couldn’t eat those either.

I had just come to expect every appointment and referral to be disappointing and to not get help or support. Why should this be any different?

To my great surprise, this was very different. She had me do a food diary, specifically when I’d had reactions, while she said she needed to speak to a colleague in the private sector. I’d sent my diary, and when I met her again, she told me that both her and her colleague agreed that I had Mast Cell Activation Syndrome. I wasn’t losing my mind, by body was being really sensitive. It was at the point that I remembered how immediately post-vaccine I started having breathing issues, which was diagnosed as bronchospasm because of my Indomethacin. I’d been on it since 2016, if I had a flare, I increased my dose until the pain was managed, then gradually reduced back to my maintenance dose. But I never had issues with it beyond stomach issues. This must explain why suddenly I was having a reaction to it. I’d also repeatedly told my friends and family that I felt like I’d become allergic to stress. I worked in the construction industry; stress was normal for me but now my body couldn’t tolerate it. I remember being present for an argument, I wasn’t involved, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack for someone else’s argument, but it was more than that. Stress just made me feel incredibly unwell, and since the vaccine, I’ve been dealing with a lot of it. MCAS made so much sense.

We started on a low-histamine diet, and I managed to convince my GP to prescribe antihistamines. However, they’re in my medical records as being prescribed for hay-fever. Eating became less scary, reactions were become more manageable when I did make mistakes, even my inflammation levels were down. My watch wasn’t as tight some days and the biggest shock of all was that my implant was suddenly providing me relief. The second biggest benefit of the diet was that I was no longer bedbound. I still can’t do more than I could before, but I can be downstairs in my recliner rather than in bed.

2 weeks after the surgery, my implant stopped working. In fact, I was terrified that I’d pulled the wires and broken it. What I learned was that was entirely expected, they set it up with an initial programme which you can feel, and then once it’s settled a bit and scar tissue starts to form, they’d reprogramme it. No one told me to expect this, so I was terrified and beside myself because I was so convinced I’d broken it. Those first few weeks I felt incredible, the morphine definitely helped, but I had hope again and suddenly that hope was ripped away.

I had reprogramming after reprogramming, but we just couldn’t find the relief I had post-surgery. My pain levels were still high constantly, I had more good days again, but it was always short lived. Then, after starting the low histamine diet at the start of 2025, finally I was getting relief. I think now, as I write this, my pain is as good as it’s going to get with the HC and occipital neuralgia. I’ve had quite the decline over winter, so actually I’m currently in a flare. But outside of the flare my pain is around a 4/10 which is a huge improvement from 10/10. Often it rises, usually if I’ve been upright too long, been a bit active, poor sleep, or eaten something I shouldn’t have. But the baseline is around 4/10, with the implant and pregabalin which I need to stop, but we’ll get to that.

I’d been incontinent since 2023, and it was 2025 when my doctor did any referrals for it. This was purely because over Christmas 2024, I was having urinary retention. I emailed my GP to let her know, and she called and told me I had to go to A&E.

After a long wait at A&E, I saw a consultant who was really lovely. She was the first person, since the vaccine, who was appalled at how little had been done for me and that I hadn’t received any support for the “life-changing” circumstances. Her boss checked the CT I’d had done previously and decided I didn’t have Cauda Equina, but she was doing a referral to urology. She couldn’t understand why this hadn’t already been done.

Off the back of this, I saw my GP who asked what the continence team had said when I saw them. I had to inform her she hadn’t referred me to anyone for my incontinence. So, she did the referral.

Around April 2025, I also had another reprogramming session on my implant at Southmead. At the end my surgeon came in to see how I was doing and to ask if I was any further forward with finding out what was going on with my mobility and linked symptoms. I told him, I can’t get anyone to help me, no one will do the right scan and tell me I have to get on with it. He asked if I’d be happy to be seen at Southmead, and I nodded in the affirmative.

While I have met a few terrible medical professionals since the vaccine, I do not count my neurosurgeon among them. He’s a man of very few words but he gets stuff done and does what he says he will. He wasn’t responsible for my awful post-surgical care at Southmead; he was responsible for getting the green light for the £30k surgery in the first place. He is also the only consultant who always writes my condition was exacerbated following the Pfizer vaccine in my letters. I don’t ask him to; he just does and not once has he gaslit me or denied my experience. He’s also never told me there’s nothing wrong with me and I walk absolutely fine.

Within a month I had an appointment at the neurophysiology department at Southmead, for what I thought was a full assessment. It turns out it was just nerve condition studies, which showed things were fine. Partially relieved, and partially frustrated, I asked how they knew there was anything further up my spine causing issues like the spinal consultant had said. She said “I don’t, but you’re not here for a full assessment. But you need a diagnosis, so let’s go with FND.”

I got a little piece of paper with Functional Neurological Disorder, with gait disorder written on it, and a website to read – neuro symptoms.

3-4 weeks later I had my appointment at my local hospital to see the continence nurse. After she collected me from the waiting room, she commented on my legs and the FND. It was a poor day for my legs, but I felt validated that someone could see I didn’t walk normally. I would know, I’d been walking for 30+ years.

She diagnosed me with a neurogenic bladder, because of the FND. She explained it wasn’t surprising given all the neurological issues I had, and we formed a plan to reduce the severity and frequency of my accidents. Then she asked what support I was getting and what had been put in place at home. “What do you mean?” I asked, she asked what the occupational therapists had put in place to make things easier and safe for me at home. I then explained that I couldn’t even get physio, there was no support, no help, not OTs and the only equipment at home was what I’d bought for myself. To say she was angry would be downplaying it, she was so disappointed that I’d just been left this was. I even told her I’d tried to self-refer to adult social care, but they’d told me that as I was still under neurology they couldn’t help me. At the time I was dealing with bed sores because of the amount of time I had to be confined to my bed, and once again I had to fix this myself.

9am the next morning there was an OT knocking on my front door. She did a very quick assessment which led to bath rails being fitted, a frame around the toilet to help me get up and a bath board. She also tried her best to get me a ramp for the front of the house. In February 2025, after fundraising, I bought myself a powered wheelchair so I could do a little bit more outside the house on my good days. But this requires me to get it down the step out the front door. The suitcase ramp they delivered was, unfortunately useless. Instead of having to manhandle a chair out the house, I now had to manhandle the ramp into place, then my chair onto the ramp and down, then lug the ramp back in the house to shut the door. It tripled the effort that was already a struggle.

The OT said she was going to refer me to adult social care to see if they could help with this. After a lengthy assessment, followed by a few more calls, I was denied help on the basis that I wasn’t a permanent wheelchair user, only an ambulatory wheelchair user.

I’d like to add, when I finally decided that maybe a wheelchair might help make life more accessible for me, I discussed it with my doctor who thought it was a good idea. What I didn’t find out until AFTER I sent £4k on a chair was that there’s a wheelchair assessment service she could have referred me to for help.

There’s a lot of other things I had issues with. From early on I started getting severe skin infections from nowhere, I had so many rounds of antibiotics it was ridiculous. The last major issue led to facial cellulitis and taking 3 antibiotics at once. I had to go to the RUH to make sure it wasn’t tracking to my brain. The infection started near my nostril, and engulfed by cheek, chin and eye. The ophthalmologist was incredibly rude, giving me a lecture on picking my skin and how if I hadn’t picked above my eyebrow I wouldn’t be in this situation. Above my eyebrow was a scan from a previous, and minor, infected spot. Not where this infection originated, I even show photos of this current infection and how it had developed from my nose and out, but he continued to hold the stance that it was from above my eye and both my mum and I walked out. The plan was that I’d be assessed and given IV antibiotics, because the antibiotics I was on were touching the infection that was continuing to develop. So, crying, from the RUH car park, I called my GP surgery again and they took a gamble on adding two other antibiotics. These both interacted with the medications I was taking, hence why it was tried before. But they worked, I was just very dizzy and unwell for a week. That was in April 2024, the infected started at the end of March. Before that infection started, I’d already had SEVEN rounds of antibiotics since the New Year, that how bad the situation was getting. Now I have to wash with hibiscrub to prevent infections and have done for at least 3 years.

My medical record still does not reflect how difficult every day is for me. After my neurologist wrote that entirely incorrect letter to my neurosurgeon, I started monitoring my records for inaccuracies. I don’t correct them, I haven’t got the energy to do more fighting, but I make note of them. Such as when a doctor wrote, “patient came in with a walking stick?” Or when last year, after severe suicidal thoughts from pregabalin withdrawals, when I called begging for help, not only was I told that if I needed support, I should be calling Samaritans, her clinical observation was “patient was a little teary.” This was after she’d done a full assessment where I confirmed I wanted to harm myself and others. Another time was when I spoke with my GP about my fatigue last year, and that I was finding watermelon to be helpful but that couldn’t eat the pips or I’d have a reaction. She wrote I was having benefit from watermelon for my “post covid fatigue”. Not the chronic fatigue syndrome I had a diagnosis for. I had the vaccine June 17th, 2021, I first got Covid October 2022. If u get so much as the weakest cold, everything gets significantly worse, every single symptom and issue, and I’d basically isolated for over a year before getting Covid. My need to sleep 20 hours a day and PEM started the day after the vaccine.

To this day I can’t get help for anything. I get told that my health is so complex it’s hard to know what to do with me. Like somehow that makes leaving me to decline with no support or help is acceptable.

I had a final appointment with my neurologist in September last year. I wasn’t happy, I’d made it clear I wouldn’t see her again. But I didn’t want to be written off as me being uncooperative, so I went. Mum asked if I was taking my wheelchair and I said no, my legs were bad and I wasn’t going to give her the chance to tell me there was nothing wrong with my legs.

To my surprise, she had a student doctor with her, and I wondered how the appointment would go. My legs really were awful, and it was the first thing she commented on. “Your legs are much worse than when I last saw you.” I smugly commented that it was bound to happen with no one helping to prevent that.

I wasn’t going to ask for help and give her the chance to decline, so I was a less small and compliant. I also realised she wasn’t cutting me off when I spoke now, she had a student doctor with her, and I took full advantage of it. I highlighted the neurogenic bladder diagnosis and the FND diagnosis. She said she knew nothing about it, but somehow the continence nurse did. She once again asked how I was getting on with the Indomethacin, she did this every appointment and phone call despite not taking it.

The previous year we’d agreed the pregabalin was doing more harm than good after a 30kg weight gain and should be stopped. So, when she commented on my weight gain, I reminded her that yes that’s why you told me to stop the pregabalin and my attempts to do so had severely impacted my mental health so currently I’d stopped reducing. She said, “it doesn’t normally cause weight gain” and I glad pointed out it was on the label as one of the most common side effects. I was not being gaslit anymore by this woman. She suggested she share a specialist’s information with my GP for me to actions referral when I was ready, acknowledging I’d be passed from pillar to post for heat with no improvement. I agreed, though she didn’t say who the specialist was.

She then wrote to my neurosurgeon, and the first line of the letter reads: “I feel I’ve reached the end of the road with Chloe.” I’m not sure we ever found the road, but I was glad to have been discharged from her service. Closing the door on the trauma and medical PTSD that she caused for me was a huge relief. But still she couldn’t accurately record my appointment in a letter, apparently I turned up in my wheelchair!

The specialist turned out to be a FND specialist neurologist at Southmead which was actioned a short time later.

Now the withdrawals. After speaking with many others who had vaccine injuries and reduced pregabalin, I realised that our now very sensitive nervous systems could cause very intense withdrawal symptoms. So, I prepared myself, because I was on my own with this like everything else. They’re water soluble, so I started a reduction of 5%. My neurologist’s suggestion was to reduce 25mg per dose, per week. Which is a 25% reduction.

The first 5% went well, so after a few weeks I dropped another 5% which was a disaster. The following day I was suicidal, and the levels of rage I was experiencing were terrifying. So, I called the doctors and was told I should go to Samaritans for support and to speak to a pharmacist. I asked if she’d be booking me to see a pharmacist, but she said no I had to go to a pharmacy myself. Which I did, and I explained the symptoms and then the phone call with the doctor to be told that it was down to the doctor to help with the withdrawal, not a random pharmacist. She also advised me to asked for liquid pregabalin, which would allow me to reduce in even smaller doses and to ensure the dosing was accurate.

This was all in one day, and so I went back and asked to speak to my GP, not the GO they’d out me with earlier. This request was refused on the basis that I’d already spoken to a GP about this issue that day. So, I put another request in under a different reason. I wasn’t thrilled by the doctor they put me with, who previously told me to “get on with it” but I had to try. When talking he wafted his hand while saying “yes, yes”. Basically, shut up Chloe I don’t want to hear it. However, he did prescribe the liquid pregabalin and booked me to have my taper monitored by the in-house pharmacist. Still no MH support.

The pharmacist called a few times, we’d agreed to once a month check ins, but I only had 2 calls. Once was to tell me that through everything, he’d read the withdrawals only last 2-3 days, so I shouldn’t be having the problems I was. No further explanation or suggestion, just telling me that according to other studies my experience was invalid.

I’d had to increase my dose initially due to the withdrawals, and I cautiously reduced at a rate of 1mg per dose every 4-6 weeks. Again, I was told I needed to speed this up, but I refused on the basis that the rage and depression were already challenging enough, and I wasn’t going to make myself feel unsafe again. The last reduction I did took me down to 89mg and this really impacted me. I held off on asking for help, experience had taught me it wasn’t there for me. So, I didn’t call the doctors for around 4-ish weeks, when I finally relented. I couldn’t go out in my car without wish for an accident to kill me, I was not safe.

I got put through to the mental health nurse, who I hadn’t spoken to since early 2020 when I had attempted suicide before the pandemic. Again, the help provided made me even worse and help to fix that wasn’t provided. That was when I started paying privately for therapy, and before my vaccine, we’d worked to get me into a really good place. Then the vaccine injury happened and suddenly I was having therapy up-to 3 time a week at times. Before I started my pregabalin reduction, I was in a pretty good place, A place of acceptance. We’d done years of trauma therapy around my health journey and life in general. So, I’d stopped seeing my therapist in April 2025 and started the reduction in May or June.

This time the nurse told me to self-refer to Olive Branch, a low-cost therapy service. She would chase up the pharmacist who had failed to maintain the check-in calls and ask for a sedative to be prescribed. Alongside the impact on my mental health, I also had insomnia and hadn’t slept a full night in over a month.

The reality is that I left it too late to call the doctors for help. My friend, recognising that I could sit on an unknown waitlist for this low-cost therapy, contacted my private therapist. She reached out and we arrange an emergency appointment for the next day, Saturday morning. My therapist knew me inside and out, I’d been seeing her since 2020. So, when she said I wasn’t safe and needed to present at A&E and ask to be admitted, I knew I was in a dangerous place.

I got off that zoom and went downstairs to tell my mum that I needed to go to A&E in bath and request to be sectioned. She called my dad and sister who met us there. This was a long day with 2 triages. Then I had a nearly 3-hour assessment with two people form the mental health team. I told them everything. Everything I’ve written here, and in my last post, along with everything I’ve probably forgotten to write here.

Their assessment was that it would do me more damage and cause more trauma to be put in a secure facility than the trauma of going through this withdrawal and the change in my life and health alone without support. They felt that if I could actually get support to fix my physical health, then my mental health would follow.

They also told me I had multiple ground to make complaints. They didn’t mince their words; I’d be dealing with “repeated negligence”. They were going to write to my GP with their assessment, which I admit was a lot less stern than they suggested it would be. The GP had to arrange an appointment to do a proper medication review with me in person, they had to action the referral to the FND specialist, they had to correct the inaccuracies in my records, and the pharmacist had to supervise my taper from pregabalin. I then had to do a referral to Access Community Mental Health and Wiltshire MIND. They also asked the doctor to refer me to a specific private clinic for therapies like acupuncture, hydrotherapy etc. The doctor tried, but it was refused so they’ve done another referral to the RUH pain clinic where I’ve been before.

My friend came with me to the doctors, and I found it really challenging. I got to say what I needed to, how so much had contributed to where I was now at. But it’s very hard to argue with someone who kindly tells you that GPs are just the gatekeepers, they refer out and when someone’s health in complex it’s hard to know where to send those referrals. Also, I now have the FND referral and they’re absolutely certain they’ll be the right people to help me and provide all the support and rehab I need. Once again, I’m someone else’s problem.

I haven’t started reducing my pregabalin again. When I had that appointment with my friend, the doctor suggested I self-refer to Turning Point who were better place to support me with the withdrawals than the doctors. Someone else’s problem again. They can prescribe it but won’t support you when you’re in the majority who have withdrawals when reducing it.

Access were fantastic, I started with them in December and finish at the start of February. Just having a weekly call and to discuss the challenges and then share boom recommendations. It really helped and finished just as I’d reached the end of the waitlist for Olive Branch, perfect timing.

I’ve started with Olive Branch, and my therapist is lovely. It’s challenging speaking to a therapist who hasn’t done this journey with me, but I don’t feel like it’s fair to ask my private therapist to continue working with me at a reduced cost which she did for a long time. She saved my life, and I want someone else to have that opportunity. Now I’m with Olive Branch and we’re discussing what led me to now, and on Monday all this stuff came up. The negligence, gaslighting and traumatic experiences that have come from me fighting for anyone to help me stop getting sicker.

My referral for Turning Point came through recently and they confirmed that they can’t really help me. I don’t have a psychological addiction; my body is physically dependent on the pregabalin. It’s very different, I’m not trying to take more or buy it on the streets, I’m prescribed it and I take it against my will to keep me safe. They did offer an appointment with one of their consultant doctors who was fantastic. She said she’s seen the withdrawals I’m experiencing a lot, and that they don’t disappear in 2-3 days doesn’t mean what I’m experiencing isn’t real. I can reduce at an even lower rate of 0.5mg per dose, so 1mg overall rather than two. And I must listen to my body, don’t reduce until the withdrawals have settled again. She wrote an enormous report which went to my GP, again highlighting that they were responsible for supporting me through this and that the pharmacist must supervise me.

The pharmacist called, we’ve agreed to fortnightly check-ins, and I said that as soon as I was recovered from the old that’s upset my whole system, I would start the reduction. Now I have the weekly therapy with Olive Branch, and I know the pharmacist has been told off by the MH team at A&E and Turning Point, I feel more confident to try the reduction. I have people there to catch me if I fall again.

Beyond that, I’m on my own. I’m seeing the FND specialist in April, but you’ll see from my previous post that I just can’t be hopeful for it or anything now. Hope has taken a lot of hits since 2021 and it’s always been devastating. So, I have the appointment, and I want them to help me. I don’t care about not getting better now, I care about not getting worse. Stop me getting worse and I’ll be thrilled. But I also won’t be shocked if there’s no help or support from this referral either, it can join the long list of the others.

I will keep fighting. When I was struggling with my head and the withdrawals, I just couldn’t see a point in all this fighting. My whole life I’ve made me better.

When I had pain and dislocations growing up, I was pushed away and told I had growing pains. I’m 5ft, growing isn’t really something I’ve experienced. My parents had to pay privately for a physio for me, my knee kept dislocating and he put me on crunches at one point. I was very sporty and was on the hockey team, but every match my knee started dislocating. When I was 20 or 21, when my pain was at a level that mum had to help me wash my hair, like she does now, I was finally diagnosed with joint hypermobility. He said I’d likely be in a wheelchair by the time I was 40 and to do non-impact exercises like swimming and cycling.

I did my own research, understood my tendons and ligaments weren’t supporting my joints and joined a private weightlifting gym. Within 6 months I was off pain medication, I had to tie my hands to machines like the lat pull down, but I improved. Within a few years I did my first powerlifting competition and took home a silver medal. 2 years later, in 2019, I was crowned British Bench Press Champion, with a herniated disc in my back from a bad lift. I was in a brace and shuffle walking, but I could bench. I was supposed to be going for the British squat record.

In December 2015, my Hemicrania started. I was at my desk and suddenly there was this blinding pain, it last 30 seconds but by the end I was a shaking, screaming mess, in a ball on the floor. I’m not known for being dramatic, that’s truly the level of pain I was in. After that it kept happening and got more frequent, but the end of January it was constant and I was on maximum dose Tramadol. I don’t take one sick day. I started working the week of my 13th birthday, and since then I worked constantly. By 18 I was doing 2 jobs, I was still doing 2 jobs when I had the vaccine. In 2015, I was working two jobs and studying for my HNC.

After scans and tests coming up negative, I was told I’d have to see my neurologist but that it was a very long waitlist. So, we paid privately and had an appointment 2 days later where she diagnosed HC and would confirm it by seeing if I responded to Indomethacin. It’s the only drug is responds to. It worked, but it wasn’t sufficient just on its own. I had to completely change my routines, and I’ve always had to have routine in my life. But I learned that my sleep was disturbed by pain, so I had to make sure I had the time to get quantity over quality. So, a 9pm bedtime became a non-negotiable for me. Pain was worse in the mornings and evenings, it still is, so I planned my workday around a gentle first hour at my desk. I was designing buildings; I could risk making mistakes by doing the complex stuff early. I changed my eating habits until I found the right routine to prevent stomach damage form the Indomethacin. When I started it I wasn’t told about the damage it could do without food or PPIs, until I ended up in an ambulance with stomach bleeding. So, I fixed that, I used PPIs but really it was finding the right foods that stopped the issues.

But I have always fixed me. There’s been a helping hand at times from the doctors with the right medications, but it was me who learned how to manage my pain, dislocating joints, stomach bleeding, and HC. I fixed me.

But now, I don’t know how to fix me. Ultimately, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I developed a strong mind-body connection through my powerlifting, even now I can still isolate and work each individual muscle. Because I maintained that with the self-physio. But it isn’t stopped me getting less mobile or my pain and fatigue increasing again.

Much to my doctor’s disappointment, I must do my own research. I fit the criteria for Post Acute Covid-19 Vaccine Syndrome, mitochondrial dysfunction and whole heap of other shite. I also have the symptoms of POTS. I spoke to my GP about the symptoms, she told me, “It sounds a little potsy” and I agreed. I explained how it’s mostly manageable, and I listened to my body telling me what it needs but that during hot summers it’s really challenging. No further action and that discussion wasn’t even added to my medical records.

This is what I’m facing. And now I’m back paying for therapy and I use my PIP to fund a Motability car so that I can be independent with my wheelchair and make driving easier again. This means I cannot try lots of expensive supplements and private therapies to try and fix me like I did before. I’ve always used the NHS to provide a diagnosis, and my own intuition and research to provide the cure (management). But now they can’t even provide the diagnosis, and they definitely won’t provide the cure.

What is surprising from this journey, is that in my first PIP assessment in 2022 and my review last year, they didn’t hesitate in putting down for enhanced mobility and now enchanted for both. The DWP who are notorious for gaslighting, dismissing people’s struggles and marking them down. They were the ones who didn’t question how challenging every day is for me and the support I require. If it wasn’t for my mum, I’d have to have carers from the council. Meanwhile the doctors are asking in my notes why I have a walking stick.

So there, that’s my story from the last 5 years. This is why I get my back up when people try to help and push me into going back to the doctors to ask for MH support, referrals etc. The help is not there for me and it’s damaging for me to keep trying. So, I don’t know what my next step is if the FND specialists don’t help me in April.

I spend my days daydreaming about working, about the places I’d go hiking if I got to walk again. Mostly work. I have so much ambition, and I don’t know how to use it. I’m certain there’s something I can do to help generate an income that will allow me to try more therapies and supplements, but I also have no imagination and not one entrepreneurial bone in my body. I also dream of being in my own home, independent living. I’m 32, of course I want my own space, I’m not supposed to be back living with my mum who does the cooking and cleaning like I’m a child again. But I can’t even afford £30 a month to try another supplement, let alone buying or renting a bungalow so I can feel like an adult again. I also wonder if a manual wheelchair would be beneficial and easier in some circumstances, but again that’s not something I can afford. Same as my wheelchair is due (and needs) servicing, but I don’t have the £100 for it right now. I must save for it.

So, I write. I write for me, for my own health because it’s cathartic. I also write for others, because not everyone feels safe enough to share their own story. And I write because frankly there are very few things I can do when I haven’t got the energy to be anywhere other than my bed or recliner. Anything I do has to not cause additional issues when I’m unable to get out. So that when I do feel able to get out, I have the energy to enjoy it and have engaging conversations my loved ones without my brain and energy crashing.

The cognitive decline post vaccine was severe. I kept trying to go to work, but I didn’t know how to do the most basic command in the software I’d been using for over 5 years and could previously use in my sleep. Suddenly it was alien. And my Brian crashes. I can be driving somewhere in town and suddenly have no idea where I am or how to reach my destination, it can be scary. I also don’t retain or recall memories easily, so I have to write everything down. It’s the only way I’ve been able to write all this, because I’ve previously written it down and could refer to it.

All these things that people don’t see that mostly I don’t allow people to see. My anxiety of people seeing me walking is intense and I make jokes. “Don’t worry, it’s funnier with music!” Or “I’m auditioning for the Ministry of Silly Walks!” When I see friends I put on a mask, one that says my pain isn’t too bad and my body is cooperating. When actually I’m smothered in Volterol, in absolute agony and but I just want to be normal for a few hours. I use extra energy I haven’t got, knowing it’ll cause a crash that could last weeks, so I can stand or lean and chat, like there’s nothing severely wrong with me. Like I’m not suffering every second or every day, in different ways. Each time I wake up is a surprise as to what I’m going to get. Every time I take a step, and realise I walk funny, it comes as a shock. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.” That’s grief, trauma and sadness, repeated every single time I walk, or try to climb the stairs.

But I have made some improvements like I mentioned, especially with the low histamine diet. But my tremors have also improved, I still have some bad days with them. But now I am safe with sharp knives, usually. However, I still can’t cut tough food, in January I had a roast dinner at a pub and had to ask for a steak knife. Not because the meet was tough, but because I just couldn’t cut it and some days are like that. Some days I must have food like fajitas because I can’t hold or use cutlery and some days, I can’t throw a ball for my dog or have a short game of tug of war. But I adapt, I can’t easily throw a ball for my dog by hand, but it’s manageable and easier with a ball thrower, and I can use sharper knives for tougher food or eat finger food.

There have been great things that have come from this journey, most significant has been the support of UKCVFamily; a registered charity who support vaccine injured and bereaved. I’ve made lifelong friends there, and when I’m not struggling as much, I volunteer for them, because they have given me and others so much. A place where we don’t feel so lonely and isolated, where our challenges with the NHS and government are shared, so we support each other. They advocate in parliament, always meeting with MPs to try and get us the support we need, being core participants in the Covid Inquiry, hosting zoom socials and finding practitioners and therapists to host talks and healing sessions for everyone. They do this despite being vaccine injuries themselves, they’ve created a whole community so none of us feel alone in this journey.

My friends and family too who have been relentless in their support for me, from making me laugh, planning activities which I can manage, writing letters to my consultants and advocating for me when I can’t do anything but shut down. My mum who cares for me every day, despite being 62 and working full-time. My dad who visits me weekly for lunch and my sister who calls, sometimes daily if I need it.

I’m exhausted from it all, the fighting and the surviving. But this is my story so far, and I truly hope one day I can tell you how well I’m doing.

My 5 Year Journey Post-vaccine: Part 1

Recently I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress and emotional situations, I’ve coped better than I expected but there are other unrelated emotions that I just can’t shift. That’s what I’ve come to write about, because that’s usually the best way for me to process when talking about it with friends, family and therapists don’t clear it.

On June 17th, it’ll be 5 years since I got sick, since my entire life was turned upside down and never recovered. In that time, while I have seen lots of people, initially by paying privately, not a lot has happened for me. For the first 8-9 months, I paid to see my neurologist privately, because my immediate concern was the exacerbation of my Hemicrania Continua and the pain levels I was in. Alongside this, the chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) went ignored and undiagnosed, along with my drug reactions, tremors, burning pains etc. Some of this developed slowly, others came on overnight, like the CFS.

When I saw my neurologist a month after the vaccine, she dismissed me entirely when I said everything kicked off within 2 hours of the Pfizer vaccine. In fact, she said, “don’t be so silly” and it was just a “coincidence”. We added in Lamotrigine and tried 2 or 3 rounds of nerve blocks, both bilaterally and unilaterally but they just increased my pain levels.

 In September 2021 I had my first neurosurgery which took months to recover from, but my pain was permanently heightened as a result, this was a known risk but one I felt I had to take to get my life back. When I woke from surgery, I vividly remembered being in the theatre and convulsing, including being rolled on my side. I asked the post-op nurses, but they assured me that the surgery went without incident, and they would know had something happened. This surgery was keyhole and was a one-time “zap” of the nerves in the hopes to reset them, specifically the occipital and trigeminal nerves. But I was sore all over, everything ached and the following morning I had to get my mum to help me out of bed. I’d pulled every muscle from my groin to my neck, and I couldn’t sit up or get myself out of bed. This went on for what felt like weeks, very slowly easing so I could roll myself out of bed and off the sofa, until eventually I could use my arms to push myself up.

The surgery was on the NHS, as my neurologist did a referral to the neurosurgery team in Southmead. She suggested the ONS implant, but we agreed to try this surgery first.

After this, everything I tried increased my pain, so if I wasn’t paying £175 for a 12-minute phone call with my neurologist, I was emailing her pushing to try the next treatment. The pain and fatigue were debilitating and at the time I thought the fatigue was a result of having such extreme pain constantly. In January/February 2022 we decided to stop the indomethacin and lamotrigine and start pregabalin. Indomethacin I’d been on since HC was diagnosed in 2016, and it managed the condition well. Post-vaccine it stopped touching my pain and caused another adverse reaction, bronchospasm. I was glad to be getting off it so I could walk more than a few steps without getting breathless or needing my inhaler. Initially I was asked to come off the first two medications and wait a period before starting pregabalin so my neurologist could know what my base level of pain was. I lasted less than 4 days before having to start pregabalin because the pain was so unbearably intense – little did I know that would become my norm soon.

At first, the pregabalin helped. My pain was reduced by 50%, 50% of the time. This was significant to me, but after a few weeks it was like I was suddenly taking placebos. So, I paid £175 for that 12-minute call and was told to double the dose, this just made me feel incredibly high and useless. I spoke to the inhouse pharmacist at my GP surgery who suggested reducing until I didn’t feel like this, but not before telling me she has many elderly ladies on a much higher dose and how they didn’t have any problems. Way to gaslight my experience and how awful I was feeling.

I reduced and stuck at a level of 100mg twice daily and agreed with my neurologist that taking and extra 25mg at lunchtime on my 10/10 days to take the edge off was fine. Meanwhile, I saw my neurosurgeon again, but he still didn’t want to proceed with the implant. He felt I was too young and it should be a hail Mary option, first I should try Botox and CGRP Inhibitors. Both of which my neurologist had mentioned but said that they don’t use them for HC as generally they don’t work. But what else could I do? These were the last pharmaceutical options available to me.

I was having mobility issue already by this point, in fact the mobility issues had appeared quite quickly but gradually. However, they were the least of my issues. But around March-May 2022, I started taking Naproxen again due to the widespread pain I was also experiencing.

June 2022, I saw my neurologist via the NHS to start botox. I had 31 injections, starting with one between my brows. Prior to botox, I occasionally had what I called “good days”. Days when my pain was randomly around a 4-6/10 and I could manage a short 1-2-1 visit with family and friends. These days happened maybe 1-3 times in a 2-week period. In the 3 months following the botox, I had 1 good day. My friend helped me write to my neurologist and urge her to get me an appointment ready to start CGRP Inhibitors, because I was not trying another round of botox. I will admit, my neurologist was probably sick of my emails at this point, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care, because my life was a living hell. My mobility issues had sped up; I lost fine motor skills and the ability to write above the level of a 5-year-old. There was no help or support with these changes, instead I spent months doing handwriting sheets in bed, using Baoding balls and trying to eat with chopsticks. I was also doing my own exercises and physio from my bed; I had been since the vaccine because I was a powerlifter. Training and movement were in my DNA, its all I knew. Unfortunately, my efforts only improved my motor skills but the weakness in my hands and pain when I use them remains. My mobility continued to decline despite my hopes that I could physio my way back to walking normally, safely and further than a slow wobble around the block.

I started CGRP Inhibitors around 2-3 weeks after the end of the 3-month life of the botox. These were monthly self-injections called Erenumab. After the first one I felt quite unwell, I went to the doctors insisting on blood tests. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I just felt something was wrong. Whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t right or normal. I took the second injection, but I was continuing to feel unwell. It was until a friend asked me when this started that we realised that it started when I started the CGRP Inhibitors.

Once again, she helped me write to my neurologist and inform her that there was no way I was going to take the 3rd injection and continue to decline. I was told that the trial period was 3 injections, so 3 months, just like to botox. Absolutely not. I insisted that she write to my neurosurgeon without hesitation. The sooner I got the green light for surgery, and we stopped playing medication roulette the better. By this point, each treatment increased my pain and decreased my “good days”, so my minimum pain was now 8/10.

It took a month for her to write to my surgeon, and the entire letter was incorrect. She informed him that I was having some success with the indomethacin, and that I’d like to have a routine appointment to discuss the implant. The same implant that she suggested I get 6 months after the vaccine. I couldn’t believe it, that she could get everything so wrong, like she hadn’t even read my notes or emails. How on earth could he consider a “Hail Mary” surgery when she’s told him I’m doing well on the indomethacin that I stopped in January?!

I wasted no time, called my friend and we wrote a letter which I emailed directly to my neurosurgeon’s secretary. I highlighted all the errors and gave him a written account of what had been happening, what I’d tried and what the outcomes were for me. My only mistake was not copying it to my neurologist or filing an official complaint. I’d already sent a letter in December 2021, 2 months post-surgery, when no one would take responsibility for helping me. My neurologist said it was down to my surgeon, the surgeon said I had to wait a set amount of time before my follow-up, and the GPs didn’t want to know. This letter led to my neurologist booking me an appointment in 2 weeks’ time and urging my neurosurgeon’s team to bring my follow-up forward.

By this point, end of 2022, I was already using a walking stick and had issues with tremors, tics, food and stress reactions and I was still bed-bound for up to 90% of my time. The only change was that unlike for the first 6 months post-vaccine where I slept 20 out of 24 hours, I had cut back to an almost normal sleep/wake pattern. But I couldn’t do more than I could post-vaccine. I could barely exist. Despite repeated attempts, I couldn’t get any mental health support, so I was paying privately for therapy, I still am.

In 2023, I saw my surgeon, who agreed to put me forward for the implant but that it wouldn’t be straightforward. I had to go through a pain clinic, a psych evaluation and then my case would be discussed at a multidisciplinary board. These turned out to be easy, the pain clinic said they couldn’t offer courses for anything I wasn’t already doing and the evaluation was less traumatic than expected, but I’d prepared for it with my therapist.

At the end of July 2023, I was called to an appointment with my neurosurgeon who told me I’d been successful and that the surgery would hopefully be in the next 6 months. That was it, no further information, no discussion on what to expect or the recovery. Admittedly, I was so emotional at the news that I couldn’t form any thoughts or questions. All I knew was that they were willing to try this Hail Mary and then maybe my life could get back on track.

In October 2023 I had the implant surgery. I was told I would be out the same day, and down I went. I started to panic in the theatre when the anaesthetist and nurse were setting up wires and a cannula. The cannula was fun as every vein he tried disappeared, eventually he got it in my right hand. The nurse was lovely, when I started panicking and crying, from fear, she stopped what she was doing and just held me until I passed out. To this day, I wish I could have thanked her for her compassion in that moment.

When I woke from surgery, I knew there was someone moving around my room before I opened my eyes. I also knew that was a sharp pain in the LEFT side of my head. My HC and implant are on the right side. When I asked, “why does my head hurt so much on the wrong side?”, again before I’d opened my eyes, this voice came from behind me on the left, where the nurse wasn’t. “That’s where we screwed a cage to your head to keep it still.” It was my neurosurgeon. At this point, I was on morphine, IV paracetamol and about due my pregabalin dose. So, my surgeon suggested they add fentanyl and I take my pregabalin. Woohoo, I was away with the fairies!

My nurse, Ian, was fantastic, He was funny, attentive and made my situation almost enjoyable. The only concern I had was that my hand where the cannula was, was getting very painful, but I was assured it was fine. I was also told that I’d in fact be spending the night for IV antibiotics.

I can’t remember if it was before or after my surgery, but there was a lead nurse who was having a go at the nursing team who had just stripped a room but hadn’t yet changed the suction thingy for if someone aspirates, “We’ve just failed infection control, and you still can’t get it right!” I won’t pretend I wasn’t disgusted by his treatment of his staff, but I decided this probably explained why I now had to stay overnight.

Once again, I’ll add that I didn’t know what to expect post-surgery. Including the fact that I didn’t consider the damage and recovery that having wires forced through your neck might cause. I was moved from the theatre ward to a room on another ward with a different team. No more nice nurse, but I got to see my family. I recall my surgeon and his team coming by, while I was still high as a kite, and my sister informed me that he’d said I would have to relearn how to safely move my neck and activities like skydiving were off the bucket list. That was it. Eventually my family had to leave and I had to sleep. My hand was still in a lot of pain, and my neck and upper body had become almost unmovable, with pain getting almost unbearable. I requested pain relief but was told that I’d had it in the theatre suit and couldn’t have more, but I was compos mentis enough to know that had been many hours before. Lights went out and the abrupt nurse placed my call button on the bed bars, to my top right. Where I couldn’t move or reach for. This resorted in me led there, in agony, waiting to see shadows pass my door or nearby voices so I could start shouting for help and pain relief. The nurse once again refused, and I carried on. Eventually she agreed to get the doctor who agreed to give me more IV paracetamol. I really was in agony and I really couldn’t move!

I woke in the middle of the night, aware of the most intense burning pain in my hand. When I opened my eyes, I saw the same abrupt nurse crouched next to my bed squeezing an IV bag, I told her my hand was in agony, and she said “It’s just the antibiotics. It’s fine, go back to sleep.”

What felt like maybe an hour or two later, the doctor was in my room at 7am to tell me I’d be discharged with oral morphine. That was it. I called my dad, and I’d rolled myself out of bed to start trying to get washed and dressed. The first thing I figure out, aside from how difficult it was to get dressed when I couldn’t move my neck and shoulders, was that I arrived in a baggy white t-shirt and I couldn’t get my bra on. They told me that once I was discharged, I’d be moved to the downstairs waiting room while waiting for my dad to collect me. But that I wasn’t allowed to call my dad until I was given my paperwork and oral morphine. I’d managed to get my t-shirt and leggings on and was attempting to find my toothbrush and toothpaste so I could at least brush my teeth when suddenly multiple nurses appeared with a wheelchair trying to rush me out of my room. I should add, I’d completed a menu for that lunch time, but this was around 8.30/9am. They told me to hurry and get in the chair; they needed to take me to the waiting room. I complained that I couldn’t sit in a waiting room with no bra and a white t-shirt, that I didn’t have my discharge paperwork or my medication. They said I’d get those downstairs, but that I still couldn’t call my dad. I was refused medication, which I due for, because I’d be collecting from the pharmacy when I got downstairs. One of them had disappeared, while the other was shoving my stuff haphazardly into my bag. She returned with a hot pink scrub top that nearly came down to my knees, and they had to help me into it. Then I was shoved in the wheelchair, my poorly packed bagged shoved inside and whisked out of the room. I didn’t even get to brush my teeth.

At this point, I was quite disabled. I couldn’t sit up for long periods, and I had to have my head supported, I also had severe photosensitivity, pain and movement that was equivalent to severe whiplash, and an extremely painful hand and a body without any pain medication in it. Hours went by and I could barely walk, I didn’t have my stick, and I was literally shaking and sweating from the pain I was in; Left in an uncomfortable chair, in a bright and noisy waiting room, no breakfast and no sign of my discharge papers or my medication. For the second time, I made my way to the nurse’s station in the waiting room and begged them for help. They once again called to the neurosurgeon’s team to chase the discharge papers that still hadn’t been done, checked my notes and saw I was well over-due medication and decided to give me a dose of oral morphine on the spot. But I still couldn’t call for collection. They also informed me that I shouldn’t have been taken to the waiting room at all, protocol was that you don’t get move there until you’re properly discharged and have the paperwork to show for it. I knew that 2 others had nerve stimulators fitted on the same day as me, and there was no one in the waiting room with ¼ of their head shaved and whiplash injuries. Certainly, no one with a hand that was black from bruising, where clearly, they’d continued to use a cannula in a vein that had collapsed. Instead opting to squeeze the IV bag to force the antibiotics through.

3pm. That was the time that my discharge paperwork finally arrived, meaning my medication could finally be ordered from the pharmacy and I could call my dad to make the hour-long drive to collect me. Around 1.30/2pm, when the waiting room had nearly emptied, I had to go and ask the nurses if there was any way I could get something to eat. Shocked that I hadn’t had anything, they managed to find me a very dry ham sandwich and some orange juice.

To say this ordeal was traumatic is an understatement, it shouldn’t have happened. The treatment pre- and post-surgery in the theatre ward was exemplary. Then I move wards and I felt like an inconvenience the entire time. Those that know me, know I don’t talk about my pain levels. I have a moan about my circumstances and how challenging life is, but I don’t moan or make a scene when my pain is unbearable because it doesn’t change it, there’s nothing anyone can do to help, and I don’t want to feel annoying or like a burden. The nurses and doctors obviously didn’t know me, but that didn’t stop the theatre nurse hugging me until I passed out, or the post-op nurse being so incredibly attentive, making me tea after tea, having a laugh with me and checking on my pain levels. After this, my pain was dismissed, ignored and they even put the call button for help well out of my reach. Then they felt it was acceptable to rush me out of my room, before I could even brush my teeth, with no medication, no discharge and no care for me as a patient with trauma to her body following such invasive surgery, or the fact that I was disabled. Better still, the discharge paperwork was incorrect as it stated I had “paroxysmal hemicrania” which is incorrect.

I should also add that after the doctors left at 7am, I asked for them to be called back because no one had told me how I was supposed to care for the wounds to my head and chest, only that if they got infected, they’d have to take the implant out. Given I’d just woken up I hadn’t registered that they hadn’t provided this basic information.

The following two weeks, while I had morphine which I took in very minimal doses, and the implant operational, I felt the best I had since the vaccine. I truly felt like I could take on the world, I thought this was it, finally I could see a future again. One where I wasn’t in pain, unable to work and do anything beyond merely existing. 10 days post-surgery, despite the continued limited mobility in my upper body, I got to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid for my friend’s wedding. No pain, a lot of fatigue and big grin because I genuinely didn’t think I’d get to even attend.

I’m going to leave this here for today. Honestly, writing this has been deeply emotional and reliving some of the trauma here has been really painful. I need to go decompress and clear some emotions, but first I’m going to post this to my blog. I don’t need validation, instead it’s simply because there’s a lot here that I haven’t discussed before, certainly not altogether.

I write my blog for my loved ones to know where I’m at, to update the people who care about me and so someone, somewhere with a similar story or experience feels less alone. But also, because I’m seriously considering writing something like this to the NHS to make a formal complaint because I’m angry. I haven’t written the following 2.5 years of “slipping through the cracks” yet, and I’ve slipped through them all. As a result, I’ve been left with no support and no help to prevent the decline in my health that I’m currently experiencing. So, I’m sharing this to my blog, so it doesn’t feel so scary sending it to the NHS complaints board.

I don’t expect anything from raising a complaint, but at this point in time it feels like a vital step in my healing journey and to hopefully use my experiences to stop this dire treatment happening again for someone else.

Is hope safe?

I think it’s difficult to talk about how hard it is to have hope, when it is also the thing that keeps you moving forward. But, if you know me, you’ll know I’m going to give it a go! 

As someone with chronic illnesses, hope gets me through the day. Whether that be hope for tomorrow to be gentler, or hope that one day I’ll be able to afford my own home and be able to live independently – which of course means I hope to find a way to generate an income.

I no longer hope to get better, I simply hope to not get worse. This change for me felt necessary, because hoping to get better meant bitter disappointment that would often send me into a spiral if I didn’t catch it in time.

It’s nearly been 5 years since my adverse reaction to the Pfizer vaccine, and I held so tightly onto my hope that at times I required therapy three times a week. I didn’t cancel my gym membership for nearly 7 months because I hoped this would be temporary. 

Then I fought, I used the hope I was clinging so tightly to, to fight to get help and treatment and tests and referrals. And every single appointment left me with a fresh wave of anger, disappointment and grief. I developed medical PTSD, genuine trauma from these appointments because I was clinging onto that hope so tightly. That’s not to say the trauma was my doing, but it left me vulnerable to the dickheads I’ve met on this journey.

Next month I have an appointment with a FND specialist at Southmead and in therapy last week I spoke about how hard I find it to be hopeful. What do I feel instead? Trepidation, mostly. 

While most around me are feeling hopeful that this is going to be the door that opens up avenues to progress, treatment and rehabilitation, I am almost rooted to the spot by my fear of disappointment. Even while the doctors tell me how hopeful they are, I find it difficult to contain my snort of derision. 

I may not have seen this specialist before, this for me is an entirely new department, but the raw memories of what my hope has done to me mentally and physically are ever present as I draw nearer to the appointment. I hope I don’t get gaslighted or ridiculed, I hope I go in with an open mind and open heart, but I know I’m approaching this like I would a sleeping tiger. Gently, careful not to leave myself open to attack. 

To prepare, and be armed with everything they could possibly require, I need to form a list of all my symptoms to date, including the ones that have eased. This means looking at my health as a whole, going back over the last 68 months to identify everything. I cope by refusing to look at my health as a whole. I take each day at a time, I assess what I feel like in the morning and go from there. I don’t go to bed worrying about how I’ll feel tomorrow, and I don’t wake up worrying about how I’ll feel tonight. In this moment, what have I got and what’s the best that I can do for me? 

As a chronic illness patient, I’m a doctor’s worst nightmare – no, I have not been tracking my symptoms daily for over 2 years. Because then, while also not holding so tightly onto hope, my mental and emotional health are easier to manage. Each day I wake up with no change or a decline is a disappointment, so I’m not going to remind myself of what yesterday, last week or last year felt like. The same as every time I take a step I’m shocked that I don’t walk normally, I don’t need to add to this constant grief cycle. 

When I had to do my PIP review, it required me to go through my original PIP application and see what had changed. I wrote about it at the time, but I can tell you it was a fucking lot. Everything had changed. I thought I could get away with “see before” across each section but those hopes were quickly dashed. That review was quite a traumatic experience for me and one I hope not to repeat as I prepare for this appointment. 

Instead of hope, I identify myself as having ambition. A deep, burning ambition that I don’t know how to use. I know, with my whole soul, that I’m here for a purpose and I will spend this year trying to find an avenue that I can apply that ambition to.

Ambition feels safer somehow, because I don’t take ambition to appointments where it can be damaged. Hope gets damaged at every appointment. Yet still, every single day, I sit here dreaming of creating life of my own in a little bungalow. A home built around my needs, a little place where friends and family can visit and a sanctuary I can rest whenever I need to. I hope for this because I hope for a day I can built a life on my terms, working with my health rather than against it. 

I’m already working towards it, not financially of course, but in trying to build a life on my terms. That’s where I apply my hope, the hope for a gentler tomorrow and a hope not to get worse. But I can no longer take hope to appointments with me, it’s too fragile after taking so many hits. 

Mental Health Support Services

As promised, this entry is to provide a list of resources that I’ve found in my journey to support mental health. Some are widely known, others I’d never heard of but have found useful to either know about to make us of myself. Some are also location specific, and I’ll point this out. I’m including them because if they exist in my area, then it’s likely there will be something similar running in the area you’re reading from.

111 – Option 2

Calling 111 and selecting option 2 will take you through to a 24/7 urgent mental health support line. You’ll be connected with a mental health professional who will provide immediate advice and guidance. This is particularly useful for those who feel unable to go to A&E or try getting a GP appointment – because we know what that’s like! So, if you’re in distress or are having thoughts of harming yourself or others, there is immediate access to someone via this line.

Access Community Mental Health (Alabaré) – Wiltshire

https://alabare.co.uk/our-services/mental-health-help/

As you know, I was paired with the lovely Natalie at Access Community Mental Health who provided me with weekly sessions. These sessions take the form of talking therapy, but she also helped me reframe my mindset about the things I can’t do and helped me identify things that I can do with my limited energy and other interfering health issues.

Access will pair you with a mental health professional who will work with you to help you work towards goals you may have, improve areas of your life that are causing you issues, find better coping techniques and access other wellbeing and resources available near you. These can include group activities, such as choirs, support groups and even creative writing groups – like the one Natalie found for me.

From my experience, there was only a short wait before I was able to start with Natalie and they give you 6 free weekly sessions which last roughly 45-60 minutes.

Access is Wiltshire based, in partnership with Wiltshire Council, so it’s worth looking at your local councils to see if they have a Mental Health and Wellbeing Partnership.

BSW Recovery College – Bath, Bristol, Swindon, Wiltshire

https://www.second-step.co.uk/wellbeing-colleges/banes-swindon-wiltshire-recovery-college/

This was something Natalie introduced me to, and I personally think it’s a hidden treasure. The Recovery College provides courses and workshops which can be accessed online and in-person, with quite a variety of useful topics. Their courses include Better Sleep, Building Resilience, An Introduction to Low Mood, Managing Anxiety, Self-Kindness (I’m booked onto this one), ADHD: Minds of All Kinds and Managing Intense Emotions.

Some of the courses are multiple sessions, while others, like the Self-Kindness course, are single sessions. I’m booked in for tomorrow (4/2) and will do a little journalling on my experience.

Olive Branch – Wiltshire

https://olivebranch.charity

Olive Branch is based in Chippenham, Wiltshire, and offers low-cost therapy for a period of up to 6 months. The waitlist is around 3 months currently, I initially referred myself in Autumn and I have my first session with my assigned therapist, Heidi, on February 9th.

When you apply you do an online self-referral, which is fairly extensive, and then you’ll have a further telephone assessment so they can pair you with the therapist they feel will be the best fit. Then you’ll be placed on a waitlist until that therapist has an opening in their schedule.

Of course, given I haven’t started, I cannot provide personal feedback, however I’d say they are accommodating. I received an email to say my sessions with Heidi would be on Mondays at 3.45pm in-person, in Chippenham. Now I had a little panic when I received this because Mondays are now choir days, and I wasn’t willing to pick between to two. But a simple email to Heidi allowed me to arrange that my sessions would be online, via Microsoft Teams, so I can hopefully maintain both activities – which I class as red activities, meaning very high energy usage. Generally, two red activities on the same day, or even on consecutive days, is a terrible idea. But I will see how I go next week, knowing that worst case scenario is that I try and make choir on a Thursday morning instead.

I’ve digressed, but Olive Branch sessions are £15 per session which I think is quite low cost given I know how much private therapy can cost. However, for some I know £15 a week is also quite a stretch, given I know I will need to be much more frugal to maintain this weekly cost. However, for me this is an essential health cost as I haven’t been able to reduce my pregabalin since the end of summer due to a lack of MH support. So having this in place will give me the security I need to try reducing this again.

It’s worth seeing if there are affordable counselling services near you, where therapists volunteer their time to provide these sessions at as low a cost as possible. There is always the back up of accessing low-cost therapy through MIND, where the cost of sessions is £20, with an additional £20 fee for your initial assessment.

Shout

https://giveusashout.org

Text: “Shout” to 85258

Shout is confidential and free text line that is open 24/7 for anyone struggling to cope. Simply text “Shout” to 85258 and a trained volunteer will be in touch to support you, day or night. This service also doesn’t appear on your phone bills, ensuring absolute confidentiality. Texts are limited to 160 characters, and you can stop receiving messages by texting “STOP” to the same number. The only time confidentiality can be broken is if they have concern for your safety, which is pretty standard of all MH services.

Shout’s aim is to provide users with immediate support, helping to bring users to a calmer mindset, before working to formulate a plan with users to support themselves. This is a service I’ve not used, but I believe its beneficial to share as I’ve known people in dark places who just cannot function in a phone call at that point.

Second Step – Southwest

https://second-step.co.uk

Second Step was set up by a group of social workers and community psychiatric nurses who recognised a need for mental health services for the homeless and vulnerable, people who would end up in hospital for their mental health because they had nowhere else to go. They work to support people with their mental health in their own homes, with a focus on enabling clients to live more independently, while taking trauma, adversity and psychological issues into account.

Their services include helping those who are homeless or at risk of becoming homeless find suitable accommodation. Their recovery and mental health services see them working with NHS run mental health services to help people find “hope and courage to take the next step in their recovery.” They run community programmes which include supporting people to move out of residential or supported housing to live independently, supporting people to get back into the community after receiving in-patient care, activities to motivate users, crisis prevention safe spaces and much more. In a nutshell, the services available are far reaching and undoubtedly needed in the current economic climate for many.

Papyrus HOPEline – For under 35s

https://www.papyrus-uk.org/

Call: 0800 068 4141      Text: 88247      Email: pat@papyrus-uk.org

Papyrus is a charity set up by a group of bereaved parents who each lost children to suicide. Their core goal is to prevent suicide in young people, and they have bases across the UK.

Their HOPELINE247 is a suicide prevention helpline which is provided by trained suicide prevention advisers, working with young people, or those concerned about a young person. HOPELINE247 is a free and confidential call, text or email service, active every day of the year.

Alongside HOPELINE247, they also offer education and training to anyone, with the aim of creating suicide safe communities.

Cruse

https://cruse.org.uk

Call: 0808 808 1677

Cruse offers bereavement support across England, Wales and Northern Ireland. They have a specific helpline, manned by volunteers who are trained in all types of bereavement, alongside local support services.

The support services include Understanding Your Bereavement group sessions, where they provide an overview of ‘grief models’ to help people understand their feelings, 1-2-1 sessions and peer support group sessions. They are upfront about any waitlists in place when someone makes contact for their support services, while their helpline is operational 9.30am – 5pm 4 days a week, Tuesdays its open 1pm – 8pm and closed on weekends.

Nilaari

https://nilaari.co.uk

Nilaari is a black-led charity based out of Bristol, offering mental health support to adults from racialised communities across southwest UK. A few services are available which are sensitive to different cultures and individual needs, serving all black and minoritised communities.

They provide confidential and free 1-2-1 talking therapy for a set number of sessions, 1-2-1 practical support and group therapy sessions. Alongside this, they also provide training to organisations to help them have a better understanding of cultural diversity, as well as collaborating with universities to offer therapy to their students of colour.


The list and information I’ve provided above barely scratches the surface when it comes to mental health support, but I wanted to provide and overview of the services I’ve used, or come across, to give a broader picture as to what services exist and may well exist in your area or country. Alongside these, I found multiple women’s mental health and housing organisations, men’s mental health and housing organisations and child specific services, including for bereavement support. I also know that in the moment, it’s unlikely anyone is in a headspace to spend time on google looking for the right service for them, but hopefully the services I’ve listed above will be a good starting place and a safe space to call or text in the moment.

It’s also worth looking at community noticeboards local to you, often found in supermarkets, community centres and your local GP surgeries. I found noticeboards near me often hold useful leaflets for local services, along with a calendar which highlights local activity and service groups and the days and times they operate, along with locations. For instance, I didn’t know we had a Women’s Shed near me, or specific craft groups and choirs. These are what led me to discovering the Rock Choir, simply because I saw another choir listed on a noticeboard and decided to check on google.

Please do share this or save it for future reference. Perhaps there’s someone you know who could benefit from one of these services, or maybe you can benefit from them, either way the aim is to help others know more about additional services that may be available near you that aren’t so well-known or advertised. I didn’t know many of the organisations above existed before I was in crisis, and that’s a gap I hope this blog can help close for someone else.