Tag Archives: Faith

When All That Remains Is Faith, Hope & Love

“Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love.” – 1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:13‬ (the Bible)

One thing is for sure; I am not going to forget 2015 for a while. I think for our family it will be known as ‘that year’ for a long time to come.

What a journey it has been!

When I started my blog at the start of this year I didn’t expect to be writing about all the very real and immensely difficult challenges we would imminently face this year.

When your life is stripped back it reveals what is at your core. What comes out of you during tough times shows what you are truly made of.

It’s a truly humbling journey.

Yet, through all the chaos, the pain, the distress and the brokenness this year, three things always remained. Many times they were all I could hold on to. Some days I had to dig deep for them; sometimes despair tried to take their place. But despair and fear always ultimately failed to take me down, because I knew these three things would always be there.

FAITH
HOPE
LOVE

heart shaped  in sand

They are unchanging powerful forces at work within the universe. The only eternal truths that were consistent even when so much was going wrong.

They are the divine characteristics of my creator; my father and friend who was always there with me, helping me, teaching me, guiding me and strengthening me.

A light in the darkness.
Peace in the storm.
Hope in despair.
Strength in weakness.

The still small voice bringing calmness, love and direction when life seemed to be falling apart.

If you have followed my story over the past few months you will know that following a fall off a ladder in January, I was diagnosed with a number of neurological conditions at various different times; conncussion, post concussion, whiplash, low pressure headaches and a CSF leak.

Following my relapse the Neurologists decided that most of my symptoms could be directly related to a CSF leak/ low pressure headaches and I perhaps never even had a concussion. However, this is all very difficult to prove, especially because none of my MRI and CT scans showed evidence of any diagnosis.

I finally did have another high volume epidural blood patch after much waiting and debating from doctors.

This procedure has helped me immensely.

I am very thankful for the neurologists at our local hospital who fought on my behalf, for weeks, so that I could access that treatment. All the delays were immensely difficult as well as frustrating and made my symptoms worse, but I always had to acknowledge that my case was unusual and doctors are still learning about CSF leaks and low pressure headaches. Hopefully my case will at least help things to change locally as the doctors learn more about the condition.

Finally a wonderful consultant anesthetist at the hospital agreed to try a second blood patch for me. I am so very thankful for that doctor who took great care over the procedure, was willing to learn about my condition and valued me as a person as well as a patient.

I had 28ml of my own blood injected into the epidural space in my lumbar spine, which is shown to often improve spinal fluid pressure levels and help heal any leak. As it was slowly injected into my spine, towards the end of the procedure, I felt the pain in my head and neck lift which was a great encouragement to me.

The procedure showed initial success and I saw the benefits straight away, but I still faced a massive physical, mental and spiritual battle over the following hours, days and these past two weeks to press forward into recovery.

When you have been ill for a while, especially following a relapse of symptoms, it’s hard to dust yourself down and get back up. There is a major mental battle to face when being upright is connected to so many horrible symptoms.

The blood patch went well but my body was completely out of condition because of the weeks in bed. Even finding the strength to get out of bed and spend time upright was a challenge, even though the direct low pressure symptoms were much improved.

You have to face a lot of fears. Fears of the blood patch failing, fears of relapse. Fears that come into your thoughts because of the continuing aches and pains that followed as my body began to heal and recover from the weeks/ months of trauma and weakness that had gone on in my body. Every ache and pain doesn’t suddenly vanish; some only improve as you get up and get back in shape.

Fear is not easy to face.
It’s not easy to overcome.
It eats away at your peace.
It causes additional symptoms in your body.
It makes recovery harder.

I realised that I had to overcome the fear and anxiety that can develop in relation to getting up and being upright again. Fear and anxiety can in itself bring new symptoms which mimic some of the actual low CSF pressure symptoms. The difference is these are improving as I face them and push through, whereas I was unable to do that with the actual low pressure symptoms.

The way I did this was to fill my thoughts with only things that can truly beat fear and anxiety. These are FAITH, HOPE and LOVE.

FAITH and FEAR are opposites.
Faith believes that good will prevail. Fear focuses on the negative possibilities.

“Fear is placing faith in the ‘what if’s.” – Craig Groeschel

Fear kept knocking on the door of my mind with all it’s ‘what if’s, worse case scenarios and statistics.

Our fearful thoughts alone are enough to keep us bound and stuck where we are. However, over the years I am learning how to fight fear. I am learning how to overcome it.

I knew that my God would help me. So I threw myself onto the one thing that never lets me down – FAITH.

I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I was worn out, scared that my debilitating illness would creep back, that it wasn’t or isn’t all dealt with.

But in the midst of it I knew that I could not listen to all the fears because they would tell me that I was safer staying in bed, that I shouldn’t risk getting up and pushing through. I did still have to rest a lot, but I also had to help my body fully recover by getting up and out.

Staying in bed

I had to listen and rely on three things that are always constant and provided the wisdom I needed and still need to move forward.

Faith
Hope
Love

heart shaped  in sand

I knew if I could take hold of these truths I had NOTHING to fear. They empowered me to face my fears, one by one, and begin to overcome them.

I immersed myself in truth. I spent all the time I could listening to truths from the bible and stories of faith that encouraged, inspired, strengthened and brought freedom to my body, mind and spirit.

I turned off distractions and focused on everything that built faith, spiritual strength and hope.

I knew that I could only fight fear with faith.

Faith is a powerful force.
It has attitude.
It is unwilling to back down.

It has energy to face the darkness of fear, worry and anxiety. It speaks words of love, hope and truth. It builds you up and spurs you on to press forward.

It’s calming, peaceful yet firm voice pushes you forward and says, “you can do this, you can overcome this, keep going.”

Faith gives you momentum to press through discouragements and keep going.

However;
Faith does not exist on its own.
You must feed it.
You must give it attention.
So it can be strong enough to withstand the test.

Faith is supernatural.

It is profound but it is also very real.

When the unseen becomes more real to us than what we see around us, faith is truly alive. It leads and guides us; it teaches us how to behave and act. It helps us to make decisions and brings certainty when the way forward is not clear.

Faith can bring security and stability, even when things get tough and the way forward is unclear.

Faith can also bring healing and restoration if we will let it. It helps to find a way through and will not accept defeat.

Faith fights!
Faith energises!
Faith empowers!

It is because of faith and good doctors that two weeks after my blood patch I am doing really well. I am building back my strength and most of the residual symptoms are leaving. Life is returning to a new normality. New because I am a new person, but a good new because I have grown and learnt so much.

I am building up my physical, spiritual and mental strength. I have discovered a new sense of freedom in my life. I am breaking through more of my fears and learning to embrace this present moment and not allow the ‘what if’s of the future to steal my daily contentment.

A few days ago I went to pick my daughter up from school. As I walked down the school path the heavens opened and it began to pour with rain. My first reaction was “Oh No!” Then very quickly instead I thought – “who cares… let it rain, let it rain hard! I get to walk, outside, on my own and pick my daughter up from school. No rain is going to steal the immense joy I feel in my heart in this moment.”

I never want to lose the wonder of health; of being able to breath, walk, talk, live life, enjoy blessings and be a blessing to others.

I am learning to be so immensely grateful for the small things. To find joy even when it pours with rain, to dance in the midst of the storm.

I honestly don’t know how I could have faced the past year without FAITH. I am not sure I would have survived without HOPE. I definitely couldn’t have overcome without LOVE.

I have realised more than ever before that these things are what are most important. That without my faith and relationship with God this year would have been unbearable. Without His loving hand guiding me and helping me, I would not be where I am at now.

So I am very thankful. Thankful to know Jesus. Thankful for faith, hope and love – in all its shapes and forms. Thankful for friends, family and all the support I have been given.

And I am thankful for life. To be able to live and to love. To be able to get up, be with my family and begin to do all the things that have been snatched from me for so much of this year.

In 2015 I have:
learnt,
grown,
struggled,
faced,
embraced,
survived
and thrived.

It has been immensely difficult but I have been sustained through everything because of these three things:

FAITH, HOPE & LOVE

And nothing can or will take them from me.

“Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.” – 1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:13‬ ‭(the Bible)


To read more about my ongoing story of living with a chronic spinal CSF Leak click here.

Here is a brilliant 2 min animation about Spinal CSF leaks.

For more information about spinal CSF leaks please see the UK charity website at www.csfleak.info or the US charity website at www.spinalcsfleak.org.

Never, Never, Never Give Up! 

“Never, never, never give up.” – Winston Churchill

“The brave aren’t brave because they don’t feel fear. They’re brave because they pushed through it.” – Carey Nieuwhof

There are seasons in our lives where we will face a lot of discouragement and disappointments. Sometimes these knock on our door one by one. Other times we seem to face a barrage of them; where one thing after another seems to go wrong.

It feels like there are challenges and hurdles at every level. 

Each one has to be faced and each time you have to keep bringing yourself back, getting over the new disappointment and find the strength to move forward.

There are moments when despair knocks at your door. Pleading with you to let it in and yet you know if you let it in, you will also let in all the other feelings and thoughts that accompany it. Once they get a hold of you, it is hard to break free because those dark thoughts will pull you into horrible places.

It is not easy some days. You have to find the strength for each new day, each new battle, each new decision.

Sometimes all you can say (or shout) to yourself is:

“I WILL NOT QUIT! I WILL KEEP ON GOING – REGARDLESS OF HOW DIFFICULT THIS IS!”

Until you can again break through to a place of hope. A place where you can see light for your future. A place where you decide you will not let what is happening around you and to you destroy you. A place where you can gain a better perspective and will not let the bad news win!

It takes great courage and strength to keep on keeping on when the way forward is not clear. 

We had some disappointing news from the hospital this week. Following my relapse a month ago of CSF leak/ post-concussion symptoms, I was offered a second blind epidural blood patch as treatment. (I had one in March that got me back to about 70-80% normal for 5 months).

Two weeks ago I went to hospital to have this procedure, but when at last the anaesthetist was ready to call me to theatre, the day ward I was on realised that the ward would shut before I had taken the full recovery time.

So it was cancelled. 

I cried when they told me (thankfully I was wearing sunglasses due to photophobia). So I had to let my husband talk (because I couldn’t get my words out). He remains the most brilliant advocate through all this. Calm and understanding, yet strong and willing to fight where necessary.

When you have waited ten days for a procedure to help you get better, then you go into hospital, wait all day for it to happen, told they are ready for you in theatre, to then find it can’t happen after all – is really very hard. 

But we were assured it would get rearranged. So we pulled ourselves together and chose to keep waiting.

After two more weeks of waiting for another appointment (and after daily phone calls to chase it up), it turned out that the anaesthetists have changed their minds and have ALL refused to do the blood patch and instead I have been referred to the chronic pain clinic to manage symptoms. (A blood patch is an internationally renouned treatment to deal with the cause and symptoms of CSF leaks. And the treatment requested by my Neurology consultant. The problem is a lack of understanding about how they work and the diagnosis means Doctors don’t always want to take the risk with them). 

After already waiting for four weeks for a blood patch, to be told I won’t get it is unbelievably disappointing.

It feels like another ‘blow’ in a very challenging journey. 

It’s left us in a very difficult position in which we need a lot of wisdom to know the right course of action to move forward with.

I currently still need to lie down flat all day to deal with symptoms. 

Despair is knocking at the door of our lives coaxing us to allow it in.

But we WONT let it! 

It won’t steal my inner peace. 
It won’t
steal my inner strength. 
I will
keep on keeping on – Regardless! 

It’s hard but I won’t let it destroy my life. At every level, I am choosing hope. I won’t settle for fear, doubt, worry, anger, bitterness and blame.

As a Mum I have a responsibility to demonstrate to my kids how to face hard times and endure through them; yes – somewhat broken, but also stronger and wiser.

As church leaders Matt and I together have a responsibility to show that we can face what life throws at us and still remain full of faith and strength.

It doesn’t mean we find it easy. It certainly doesn’t mean we don’t feel weak. 

  • We get angry at the process. 
  • We daily face the frustrations of managing life with me in bed all day. 
  • It’s painful, it’s hard, we often don’t know what to do. 
  • There are tears, there is exhaustion.

But we have already decided:
WE WILL NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, GIVE UP! 

“Leaders are teaching others how to handle pain at the exact moment they are learning these lessons themselves. The pain is felt and the lessons are taught in real time.” – Samuel Chand

Despair, anger, frustration, hurt and worry come against us. Telling us their pitiful story of how terrible our life is and how hard this is for us.

But we have learnt and will continue to learn how to stop these thoughts as quickly as we can.

It’s not easy, but it is possible. 

“….let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” -‭Romans‬ ‭12:2‬ (The Bible)

We will not allow our perspective to be dragged down to the smallness of our current circumstances. We choose to look beyond this. To find purpose within the pain. To remember what we do have to be thankful for.

And when we don’t have the strength to fight, we know that God will carry us. We know that we have people around us standing and fighting with us and for us.

We are not alone and we will ENDURE! 

Endure: To carry on through, despite hardships; (The Free Dictionary).

We endure each day by facing and finding the strength for today. Not getting bogged down by what may happen tomorrow. If we look too far into the future it can overwhelm us.

“Worrying is carrying tomorrow’s load with today’s strength- carrying two days at once. It is moving into tomorrow ahead of time. Worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.” -Mother Teresa

This is the hardest long term battle I have faced in my life. 

It came out of nowhere and suddenly tried to take control of my life. My story of this year will always be a part of me but I will not allow it to consume everything in me as well.

I am not a diagnosis. I am Becky Hill who is having a challenging year fighting a complex diagnosis. 

I WILL come through this. However long it takes. I WILL get better.

And in the meantime I intend to travel through it as well as I can. Make the most of every opportunity. Do what I can do and not despise what I can’t.

Learn
Grow
Inspire
Lead
Live
Teach


Regardless! 

My life does not only consist of what happens around me. We cannot always change what happens around us or to our bodies. But what has happened won’t take me inside. In my heart, my spirit, my thoughts. 

So even when my body is weak (weaker than I have ever known). Even when physically my strength is limited.

My spirit can soar. My heart can sing. I will do what I can to still build myself up, stay encouraged and inspire others in the process.

I have to fight for the right perspective on foggy days.

But I will overcome. 

It will change me.
But good will come from this.

I will not allow it to take me down! 

“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory” – Philip Yancey

Can good things come out of your suffering? What could you do to find purpose amidst pain?


Thankfully after finishing this post we got some better news from the hospital. It’s by no means clear cut but there is a bit of a way forward now. We can always hold onto hope and faith. 

To read more about my ongoing story of living with a chronic spinal CSF Leak click here.

Here is a brilliant 2 min animation about Spinal CSF leaks.

For more information about spinal CSF leaks please see the UK charity website at www.csfleak.info or the US charity website at www.spinalcsfleak.org.

 

Nine Months On: My Ongoing Journey Of Overcoming A Spinal CSF Leak. 

“Courage isn’t having strength to go on, it’s going on when you don’t have strength.” – Napoleon Bonaparte

Each of us has a story. Our life stories are unique to us. Lives, circumstances and even illness and injury are not often ‘text book’. 

We are all individuals and our lives and bodies are complex. 

I want to continue to share my own story, in the hope it might help you on your journey and also hopefully educate people about some of the complexities of these conditions.

I have chosen to write the post specifically with CSF leak and post concussion sufferers in mind. Which is why it is longer than my normal posts.

Over the months I have read about other peoples stories.

Some of them tie into my own experiences. 

Some don’t. 

So I wanted to add my own story to those out there. Maybe you will relate to it. Maybe not. But I hope that it helps you regardless.

“Facing pain may require more courage than we’ve ever had in our lives.” – Samuel Chand

We all have days and times in our lives when we don’t want to get up in the morning. When life is busy, stressful and hard work. Times that you crave to be able to stay in bed all day read a book, watch TV or listen to music.

Then you get ill or injured and, for a time, staying in bed all day becomes your reality.

And it is far from easy. 

If you have seen any of my previous blog posts you will know I fell off a ladder 9 months ago and sustained a concussion (mild traumatic brain injury) and was later diagnosed with post-concussion then 8/9 weeks later, a CSF Leak (Cerebral Spinal Fluid Leak). Which we assume is somewhere in my spine.

At the moment I am lying flat in bed writing this. I have spoken about lying flat in many of my blog posts, but what does this actually mean? 

I mean my upper body and particularly my head has to be flat on the bed or sofa. Sometimes I can use a very thin pillow to support my head. Often even that lifts my head too high, so I tend to spend most of the day, and sleep, without a pillow. I can be on my back, side or even front.

But my head must be as flat as possible

When I was in hospital, both times, It would intrigue me that so many very ill people are propped up in bed with pillows and their beds raised up.

That concept is unthinkable for me at the moment. In fact the reality is that would just be a form of torture. It seems alien to me to be unwell and sitting propped up. 


I have a routine now where I drink lying flat (even cups of tea) using straws. I eat all my meals and snacks (apart from dinner) lying flat. (I just eat dinner extra fast so I can lie down again quickly). 

My first time in hospital the pain had got so unbearable that my husband would feed me dinner, so I could lie flat, because that is the only way I could manage the symptoms and the pain.

Nine months later, following a relapse, I have learnt to manage it a lot better. The main way to do this is just to avoid being upright for more time than absolutely necessary. Five or ten minutes is normally manageable. Beyond that is often unbearable.

You have no choice but to lie down because it reaches the point you literally just can’t function upright. 

So I currently try to only get up when absolutely necessary.

When I lie flat I am almost symptom free. I say almost, because I still can feel weak and dizzy and get some aches and pains. 

But lying flat I generally feel more like me: 
I can write,
I can talk,
I can think.
I feel more normal! 

Sitting or standing at the moment is a whole other issue. You would not believe how you can go from feeling mainly symptom free to feeling really very ill in a matter of minutes or even sometimes seconds of being upright.

Since I was diagnosed with a CSF Leak, I have caused the doctors and Neurologists a lot of confusion because my full set of symptoms are not fully in line with their normal experience of a CSF leak. 

Most doctors experience of CSF leaks are mainly from epidurals that have gone wrong or lumbar punctures (LP’s/ Spinal Taps) where the hole in the spinal dura won’t close. Also people can obviously get cranial/ skull leaks from trauma, which can be seen through spinal fluid dripping out your ear or nose. These can be (but not always) easier to diagnose and often easier to treat.

Spinal leaks, whether spontaneous or through trauma (as in my case), often cannot be easily seen or proven. Which makes diagnosis and treatment problematic.

Mine also seems to be connected to the original post-concussion diagnosis. Which tends to confuse doctors because I often present at A&E with symptoms that are more in line with post-concussion syndrome/ post traumatic migraine.

The telling sign that there is probably a CSF leak, in the mix, is that I have the postural element of the injury. I am generally symptom free lying flat, but symptoms build when upright. If I am upright for too long the symptoms will also extend to lying down for a while after, but they always dramatically improve. 

This has lead the Neurologists to conclude that they think I probably have a CSF leak that exacerbates post-concussion migraine symptoms. I will try and explain this to you further in the hope that it might help other people with similar issues.

A couple of weeks ago I was admitted to hospital following an almost total relapse of symptoms. There are a few things that were slightly better than last time I was admitted 6 months ago, but generally it’s the same thing. I think perhaps part of the difference now is that I know how to manage the injury better than I did before. 

Here were my symptoms I was admitted with (in no particular order). 

Dizziness,
Balance issues,
Walking difficulties,
Speaking difficulties, including slurring of words and inability to fully express myself.
Drunk like behaviour.
Pressure in the head.
Neck stiffness & pain.
Pain at the lower back of my head.
Photophobia (light sensitivity)
Shaking and spasms.

These are actually almost the same symptoms I had every time I visited A&E since my injury (4 in all). The third visit I was in such acute pain in my head/ neck that they tried to give me morphine, which rather than take the pain away, made it worse and made me very sick so they decided to admit me for a brain MRI scan.

It was only through this first admission that I finally got to see a Neurologist who raised the possibility of a CSF leak due to the postural nature of my symptoms.

The consultant looked into two possible diagnoses: Post traumatic migraine from the concussion or a CSF leak.

Neurology then set about to investigate the CSF diagnosis which proved more problematic than we would have hoped.

If you read up on CSF leaks you will soon discover that diagnosis can be immensely difficult.

Unless you have recently had a lumbar puncture/ spinal tap, an epidural or spinal surgery and then present with postural headaches. Proving you have a leak and finding it can be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack.

They firstly did an MRI brain with contrast which came back clear of Intracranial Hypotension or ‘brain sag/slump’. This is the condition that low CSF causes. Basically, because there is less fluid round your brain, your brain then falls in your skull, due to gravity, when you are upright. The pain and symptoms are due to the pressure this puts on this area of your head and the stretching/ squashing that occurs.

It is not unheard of for these scans to come back clear. And from what I have read, severity of symptoms do not necessarily correspond to these scan results.

So they attempted to find a leak site in my neck via MRI. This also came back normal. Which is again not unusual.

The leaks are often minute. Most imaging, even MRI, is not powerful enough to locate them. 

They then did a lumbar puncture/spinal tap to look at opening pressure. Mine was a 7. They said they would consider it to be low if it was 8 or lower. Worse cases of CSF leak are often a 3 or below. (Normal is about 10-20).

So that supported the diagnosis but it was not a definitive diagnosis. 

When they did the LP I knew it was the same sensation I felt. However, following the LP I had an additional headache which was even worse, again postural, and all my other symptoms increased too:

Head pressure,
Neck pain,
Dizziness,
Instability walking etc.
My back also hurt a lot at the site of the LP. 

These restored back to what they were before the LP a couple of days later.

I then had an MRI of my spine which came back clear. 

The neurologists then decided to try a high volume blind epidural blood patch. Which is used to treat spinal CSF leaks when they can’t locate the leak site.

Usually if you have had an LP or an Epidural they know where the leak is so they can inject the blood patch into the same location in the lower epidural space in the spine. This is supposed to help seal the leak through the blood clotting and generally increase the spinal fluid pressure. These procedures have a high success rate. 

It wasn’t easy for them to agree to get an anaesthetist to do a blind patch at first, because of the higher risks involved and lack of evidence to back up the diagnosis. Blind blood patches are a lot less effective than ones directed at the actual leak location. 

The problem is we think, it is possible, that my leak might be in the upper or even cervical (neck) spine. To do a blood patch higher up the spine is very high risk because of the lack of space between the vertebra to reach the epidural space and because of the proximity to the brain.  

Eventually a team of anaesthetists agreed to do a blind blood patch and they took me down to surgery to do it. I think they managed to inject 30ml of my blood, taken from my arm, into the epidural space in my lower spine. 

The consultant anaesthetist then advised not to do a second blood patch, even if symptoms did not improve. When people have blood patches following an LP or epidural CSF leak, relief can often be quite instant. They will also often do a second or even third blood patch if the first one fails. In my case they were concerned about doing another high volume patch without further investigation. 

I laid flat on my back for about 15 hours after mine, without moving, to help it to ‘take’.

When I was able to get up some things had improved, some things hadn’t. 

I had the choice whether to be discharged or stay at hospital to pursue more investigations and treatment (which was not a simple route). I chose to go home (having been there 18 days) and work on my recovery and hope and trust that things would improve.

And things did improve, a lot.    Within a few days I was back on my feet. I could walk on my own again outside, I could drive short distances. I didn’t have as much problem with head pressure and pain.

But it was still there. 

I always put this down to the fact I had had a brain injury (concussion) prior to this and had been in bed for 3 months.

Surely things would just take time. 

Symptoms improved gradually and I thankfully pretty much got back to normality.

But I still suffered with head pressure, head pain, spaced out symptoms, dizziness, back pain (from the blood patch) and neck pain.

I still found I could not get through a whole day without lying down flat. Life became about pacing myself. Staying positive and believing that things would keep improving. 

Then I relapsed. 

Perhaps I did too much.
Perhaps I took too many risks.
Perhaps it happened regardless of what I did.  

Over the period of about 2/3 weeks things got progressively worse. I had to lie down flat more and more during the day to cope and compensate.

I went back to the GP, got a referral back to Neurology (which I would have to wait for an appointment for). Tried lying down for most of two days to see if that helped.

Then symptoms got overwhelming and we headed back to A&E for the fourth time this year. As I talk about in ‘Learning Patience’. 

The thing that again confused the Neurologists was why did I always present with symptoms more in line with post-concussion syndrome/ post -traumatic migraine BUT the symptoms are obviously very postural.

Why did I not just present with an unbearable postural headache, as in ‘normal cases’?

I understood this dilemma myself because when I read about symptoms. Most people would talk about unbearable headaches, and even though I experienced headaches, they were not always fully in line with others descriptions.

In fact, other people’s descriptions were probably more in line with the additional headache I experienced during the couple of days after the LP. That headache was more distinctly a headache as well as increasing all my other current symptoms.

What I tend to experience is nothing like I had ever felt before. 

I will try and explain the sensation I experience at its worst

I sit up, almost instantly my head begins to cloud over and the pressure builds, that makes me feel dizzy and unstable on my feet. Each minute of standing this increases. It feels a bit like you have been whacked round the back of your head by a heavy object.

What feels like a stiffness in the upper neck then increases followed by what moves from an ache to an increasing pain at the bottom back of my skull.

After a bit it can feel almost like I am being strangled, from the back of my head. I can also feel a pressure behind my sinuses, it can make me cough and gag, the front of my neck gets tense. I struggle to think, can struggle with my words, increasingly struggle to walk without support and then if I am up too long I can end up twitching/ shaking and having small spasms.

You become consumed by doing what has to be done as quickly as possible and getting back to lying flat. I feel very irritable and shaky because I just physically and mentally cannot cope with being upright.

The longer you are upright, the worse it gets and the longer it takes to recover lying down. Once back lying flat it often can take a few minutes to recover from what can only be described as the trauma of being upright. (Occasionally it takes longer to recover). 

The doctors always ask me ‘do you have a headache’? or ‘how is the headache’? But to me it’s not simply a headache.

It’s not just about a crazy ‘pain in my head’ it is more than that. It’s an intensity that is unrelenting and sets off various other symptoms. Pain is one of those but not necessarily the over riding symptom. 

The overriding unbearable symptom is intense unrelenting and increasing pressure in my head that makes doing anything immensely difficult. Until I reach a point my body and mental processing cannot cope with it anymore and it begins to react accordingly by shutting down.
I just cannot function properly sitting or standing. 

It is a headache, I guess, but nothing like headaches I ever had before my injury. I often feel the pain more in my upper neck than head.  Previously, the very occasional headaches I had were always at the top front of my head and were completely different. There is no comparison. I think it’s perhaps more migrane like but I never had a migrane so I don’t really know.

Headaches are unpleasant. You lie down and they are still there. You take painkillers to get rid of them. (I have occasionally had a normal headache in addition since my injury – they don’t go away lying down). 

These so called ‘headaches’ feel like you are being tortured. My body literally cannot handle being upright. Which is why when I have to sit up to travel to and wait in A&E waiting rooms, my symptoms always increase and I act like a drunk person. I cannot physically or cognitively cope with the strain put on my brain.

When eventually I get to lie down (usually before I see an A&E consultant) I am suddenly not quite as bad. Which is probably one of the reasons the first two times I was discharged as just having post-concussion syndrome.

We didn’t understand the relevance of posture at that time. 

When I finally was admitted. I still didn’t fully understand the need to be fully flat. My bed was often at first a little raised. I used large pillows. I sat up to drink drinks, eat, get changed, use the bathroom, speak to people.

I now realise that is why the pain built up to be unbearable. I have learnt not to do that any more. Which means I have generally learnt to manage the pain, without medication.

As long as I lie flat pretty much for 24 hours a day. 

It’s a part positive of the condition – I get relief from the torture. 

But you obviously can’t live a normal life like that. 

“When we face life challenges, we must find a way not only to survive them, but in time, to actually grow from them. We must find a way to keep on keeping on, no matter how hard or painful life becomes. As a result, we can avoid getting “stuck” and live life in spite of our circumstances.” – Kelli Horn

After a few days in hospital, after my relapse, they agreed to try another blind blood patch. Which was again the subject of great debate between the Neurologists themselves and the Anaesthetists (especially because they had initially advised only doing one). 

So that is what I am currently waiting for. They said I could have it as an ‘outpatient’ so I get to wait at home rather than hospital. (One blood patch was already cancelled though because of lack of theatre time available and then a subsequent recovery bed). 

Blind Epidural blood patches usually have a 50% success rate. Being a person of faith in God and optimism I am choosing to believe it will work and again get me back on my feet.

It did last time. We are trusting it will again. But this time we are praying that it fully heals and will never come back.

You don’t realise how precious a normal life is till it is snatched away from you. 

“All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.” – Helen Keller

I have and am learning a lot and developed more compassion towards others with long term health issues. Compassion means ‘to suffer together’. There is a beautiful thing that can happen if we allow our own suffering to develop our compassion towards others.

Humanity becomes more unified, gracious and loving as I wrote in ‘We Are All Messed Up’.

If you suffer with post-concussion or a CSF leak I hope that you find a way through, discover the strength you will need and that you will find doctors who understand and can help you.

Having a unusual injury or illness is hard, but let’s choose to keep holding on to hope for the future. Encouraging one another and hoping that doctors become more knowledgable and understanding of this debilitating condition.

There is always hope, there is always progress being made. Life may be hard but there is always something we can do and achieve.  

Even amidst the pain. 

“Your past mistakes, hurts & pain can help give someone else a future. Whatever we have gone through enables us to help others.” – Christine Cain


UPDATE: Please note that in August 2020 I was also diagnosed with arachnoiditis as well as a spinal CSF Leak – I now have radiological evidence to support both those diagnosis. To read more about the new diagnosis please see this link.

I would love to hear about your stories and experiences with concussion, post-concussion and CSF Leaks? Please do comment below. You never know you might help someone else in the process.

For more of my posts on this subject please see my first post here. You can see my ongoing series of posts by clicking on the CSF Leak and Concussion menu at the top of the page. 

To read more about my ongoing story of living with a chronic spinal CSF Leak click here.

Here is a brilliant 2 min animation about Spinal CSF leaks.

For more information about spinal CSF leaks please see the UK charity website at www.csfleak.info or the US charity website at www.spinalcsfleak.org.

A fantastic informative video that you can refer to about spinal CSF Leaks, their symptoms and treatments is The Mystery Headache: Migraine, Positional Headache, Spinal Fluid Leak? by Professor Ian Carroll at Stamford University Hospitals.

This is a wonderful new May 2018 medical paper about the 10 most common myths and misperceptions about spinal CSF leaks. It is by some of the top world experts in treating this condition. I was told so many of these myths by various neurologists, anaesthetists, radiologists and many other doctors during my lengthy and traumatic nearly 5 year battle with a spinal CSF leak. This kind of misinformation caused many delays, misunderstanding and great distress on my already immensely long winded and difficult medical journey.

This other in depth 2018 medical paper is about both low and high intracranial pressure syndromes and their similar and different symptoms. It also mentions cross overs with other headache types. When a patient suffers with a spinal CSF leak long term it can cause massive fluctuations in their whole pressure system both whilst suffering from a spinal CSF leak and following treatment. This is why lumbar puncture pressure readings and ICP pressure monitoring can prove an inaccurate disgnostic tool for SIH as this paper refers to as does the 10 myths paper. My initial LP reading was a 7 which was considered ‘evidence’ of low pressure by some doctors and normal by others.

A Year Ago Today: A journey through grief and what I have learnt.

A year ago today we sat in an ICU relatives room being told that today was the day that they would turn off my Mum’s life support.

Those few days were a tough and exhausting journey.

In November 2013 we discovered that she had a brain tumour. On January 8th 2014 the doctors operated on it. The operation was complex and took 14 hours. In their eyes it was a success. However, the next 48 hours proved fatal as it emerged that she also had an infection in her pacemaker that caused septicemia, and this combined with the brain surgery overwhelmed her already fragile body.

Those few days opened my eyes.

This was my first experience of ICU. There were critically ill people everywhere. Attached to machines keeping them alive. Many of whom would recover and yet many of whom would not make it or at least only ‘make it’ through to a life dramatically different from their previous one.

Mothers,
Fathers,
Sons,
Daughters,
Sisters,
Brothers,
Friends,
Lovers,
Husbands,
Wives.

And the waiting room was full of people waiting for them. But unlike most waiting, it was often waiting to see whether a loved one would live or die. Waiting to see what that life-changing injury, illness or surgery would do. What it would look like within their family. To say goodbye or to welcome someone back. And even if they came back, their life may be radically changed.

And in that room it was different. A different perspective. An unsaid understanding that people were fighting a battle. That people were riding a storm.

Waiting.
Hoping.
Loving.
Holding on.
Surviving.

When you left that room and went out into the wider hospital or world outside, it was different. Staff at work. People visiting patients. A coming and going of life and normality….for some.

But our experience was far from normal.

There was a part of me thankful to have been there and seen it. To be there and remember & realise that while we go through our ‘normal’ lives, others are facing turmoil, crisis & pain. Sometimes it’s hidden away behind a door titled ICU in the middle of a hospital. Sometimes it’s in a hospice down the road. Sometimes in a house next door. Sometimes it’s hidden in the lives of those you work with, walk past, sit next to on the bus. The shop assistant, the teacher, the security guard, the single mum.
 
People are hurting even though you may not know.

wolken

We lost my Mum a year ago. A year ago I experienced my first real experience of personal grief, along with all the questions and thoughts that go through your mind.

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.” – C.S. Lewis

For the first few days & even weeks after it happened, I felt an anxiety & what was like a ‘fear’ I hadn’t felt before. The above quote from C.S. Lewis resonated with me. It’s a feeling like anxiety and fear and yet you are not actually afraid. A heaviness. A pain within. A pressure that builds up inside you and you don’t know what to do with it. The thought of going out and seeing people you know can be hard. A ‘fear’ grips you. An anxiety I had not felt before.

And yet…

I chose to push through, to fight, knowing that I couldn’t let those feelings debilitate me. I had to push through, to break through. To discover purpose through pain. To face the questions. To let go of guilt & embrace the way forward. The way out. The way that sees good triumph over evil. The way that does not allow death to destroy.

I have learnt that the best way in life is not denial.
It is to face challenges head on.
Knowing that you will get battered through the journey.
But knowing that taking a battering and coming through stronger is better than allowing yourself to be destroyed inside due to denial.

So that is the journey I have walked. A journey that turns difficult things into challenges that make you stronger and wiser. A journey of self-awareness. A journey that helps you to feel more empathy & compassion for others. And a journey that becomes part of your identity, but that does not define who you become.

Some great words that someone sent me at the time that really helped.

So, one year on, I sit here and I remember the pain. I remember the exhaustion. I remember those days in hospital where my loving God was my only strength & the source of the deep peace I felt throughout. When words from the Bible, music & other inspiration carried me and become an anchor that held me tight.

I remember the relief when my husband, Matt, was able to come to London a day after my Mum died. I remember the drive back to Leicester in the car: utterly spent, physically & emotionally exhausted and yet finally being able to share with my husband the full journey of the last few days.

I remember when I got home. The desperate need to find a photo of my Mum looking healthy, so as to replace the image of someone who hardly looked human lying in that hospital bed. Grotesquely swollen from head to foot. Covered in wires.

I remember the pain, the questions & things to work through in my mind. The tears. The memories. The exhaustion of sleep lost, of pushing through.

But here we are a year on.
Today marks the anniversary of that day.

I have learnt that each person deals with and faces grief differently. There are few rights and wrongs. I have always felt grief was much easier for me than some. Partly, because I lived over 3 hours away from my parents. Our lives were no longer as intermingled as they were as I was growing up. I did not have to look daily at the empty chair. I was not reminded hourly, daily of the person lost. And perhaps because my relationship with her was quite complex anyway and had been for a long time. (Although that brings its own challenges into the grieving process).

And yet I know that what gets me through this, and all the things we face, is an ability to see the positive amidst the negative. A training of the mind to face challenges head on & to learn and grow through them. An inner strength that comes from my deep relationship with God. An innate gratefulness that there are always blessings, hope & joys in life to be found – even amidst the pain of death.

While we were in the ICU waiting room there was a couple waiting for their 20 year old son to wake up. He had been in an accident & was in a coma. They didn’t know if he would wake at all.

They waited,
ate,
slept,
and washed,
in that hospital waiting room.

They had been there about 10 days. They didn’t want to leave in case he woke up and they were not there.

On that Friday afternoon my family sat with my Mum as they turned off her life-support. An agonising time which seems to go on forever as the heart continues to beat for a good few minutes after the breathing has stopped. And the heart rate goes up and down until finally, agonisingly slowly, dropping to zero.

It was horrible.

I tried to put music on my phone and hold it to my ear to drown out the beeps of the heart monitor that lie to you that a person who is gone is still there.

However, as we left the ICU that day for the final time, I saw that couple we hardly knew still waiting for their son to wake. We had shared a connection. We had shared the pain of watching a loved one in the throes of death. And as I looked up at that mother she immediately knew what had happened.

That anxious mother, who did not know if her son would live or die, responded like this:

She held me.

In that significant moment, someone I hardly knew hugged me.
With a touch that I needed.
A touch that understood and felt the pain.

And I whispered to her, with all the strength I could muster “I really do hope things are different for you.” She replied with deep gratitude and briefly shared how touched she was for someone to say that in the midst of their own pain.

I will never know what happened to that family. But I do hope things went well for them.

Never let your pain define you.
Never become so consumed with yourself that you cannot feel another’s pain.
Instead allow your heart to become tender.
Allow yourself to reach out to others amidst your own struggles & vulnerabilities.

Everyone you meet is facing some kind of battle. Some are having to fight harder than others at that moment.

The beauty of humanity is that suffering can, if we let it, unite and draw us together in a way that nothing else can. It strips us of our titles and crafted exteriors and touches the heart. It has the power to break through masks, if we let it, because it touches who we really are.

And we all need that:
Sometimes our hearts need to be exposed.
Our weaknesses need to be seen.

Because it is then we realise that we are ALL just fragile humans. It is then we realise that we are ALL more similar than maybe we thought. It is then we know that we ALL face challenges and we ALL feel pain.

So let’s choose to journey through life with compassion and care. Understanding that we are not dissimilar. We do not need to fight one another. Instead we can support one another and choose to ‘hold’ one another even in the midst of our own pain.


Suffering can, if we let it, unite and draw us together in a way that nothing else can. It strips us of our titles and crafted exteriors and touches the heart.