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Trigger Warning: Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Medical Trauma

Hello, everyone! I know it has been a very long time since I wrote to you here. One of these days, I will be able to tell you the entire story of why I haven’t been able to be as open to the world as I used to be. For now, I will tell you the vulnerability I have always cherished in writing was used to try to fight a battle I didn’t think could possibly hurt me more than EDS does. I didn’t expect what happened after, the publicity, the sudden move away from my home, and ultimately, some really severe PTSD I’m still not quite sure how to handle. For most of my life, I wanted people to know my name and to fight for what I believed in–until my name and fighting for what I believe in almost destroyed my life. I’m doing a lot better now than I had been. I have had a lot of help and support from a lot of people, many of them in this community–and I so appreciate the patience people have had with me as I have tried to navigate venturing back out into the public. My passion has never wavered, but my abilities and my needs have.

May is EDS Awareness Month, as most of you know. I posted a photo in my Snapchat story last night with the caption “Thanks, EDS” and giggled a little with my husband about it. Tammy (our wonderful leader) saw it this morning and mentioned I should share it with you for awareness this month. She was right. The picture is funny if you KNOW you have EDS. Your legs probably look like mine or at least they have looked like mine and they will again. It’s not so funny if you don’t know you have EDS and has the opportunity to educate a lot of people. So, here’s the photo:

Just a Regular EDS Night

I remember growing up and getting hurt many times. It seemed like I was spraining joints more often than I was taking spelling tests. The nearest ER was a frequent stop, so much so I think we had a running joke about a punch card for a free visit after ten stops. Back then, though, I was just a kid, covered in bruises, hurt again. I wasn’t diagnosed with EDS until March of 2016, when I was 25 years old. I always knew what was coming when we went for these visits. I would wait for the worst part. They would ask my mom to leave the room and then ask me questions to make sure I wasn’t being abused at home. Make no mistake about this: recognizing the signs of child abuse is an absolutely critical part of medical care. It was challenging for me because I am the victim of child molestation and I waited 11 years to come forward about it. When they wanted my mom to leave the room to ask me about whether or not she was safe, I was afraid they might figure out the other “thing” or take me away from the person who did keep me safe, the one who kept taking me to doctors no matter how far away the drive, no matter how many of them told her I was fine. I knew she was getting asked questions in the hallway. I knew they were looking for differences in our stories, keeping track of how many times I’d fallen off my bike. I remember even at 13 years old being confused about why she would bring me in covered in these bruises and asking for help if she were trying to hide something.

I wish my mom had known then what we know now and could have advocated for me. When my husband and I go to the ER now, which we still avoid but now only for a lack of knowledge about the more rare of my conditions, Hypophosphatasia, we are able to have them access my electronic medical records to see that I am a patient with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. My pain specialist makes himself available for calls about the condition in case they do have questions about the easy bruising. You see, I don’t know where one single one of these bruises came from. My husband is a VERY patient man who would never in a million years lay his hands on me, but I also could literally bump into him when walking across the living room and end up with one of them. I have bruised myself with one of the worst bruises I have ever seen from my own wheelchair, a device meant to limit injury to my person.

Why am I writing this now? I want people who might have legs that look like this to know what to ask their doctors. I want them to know the questions to ask that my mom didn’t know to ask and NOT for lack of trying. We had no idea what EDS was. More than that, though, I want doctors to know what else might cause someone to look like this. I want them to know it is so important to know the signs of abuse, but also to know how to test for conditions that might make me look like this from absolutely nothing abuse-related. I want them to understand this could be caused by the patient’s DNA and a bump into a kitchen counter. None of these bruises hurt when they happened or I would know where they came from.

Maybe the patient who is constantly in the ER with seemingly silly explanations for their injuries, like falling up the stairs (I can’t remember how many times I did that) and also with bruises on them like this also has stretchy skin, hypermobile joints, migraine headaches, and chronic pain. Maybe, that ER doctor could answer their questions or refer them to someone who can before they’re 25 years old and convinced they’re crazy. Maybe that child won’t be afraid about when their mom gets called into the hallway because their mom will already know to tell the physician that since the last visit, they saw another doctor and now they know the child has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which is what is causing the easy bruising and susceptibility to injury–and the medical records will support that and eliminate the trauma of that fear.

The bruises aren’t fun,  but the bruises on our mental health from not knowing for so long are much worse. You can’t see collagen, but there are visible signs of the defective version.

Thank you again for your patience, support, and love. I am blessed to be in a community of people who support each other no matter what. I look forward to writing to you more again.

-Stephanie

PS: To brighten the mood after such a tough topic, here are cute photos of my dogs:

Essex “Boo Boo” Vander Paws

Aura Charlotte Vander Paws

Pain Management for EDS – Resources

    • CME Accredited Article on Hypermobility Disorders
    • After participating in this CME/CNE activity, the provider should be better able to:
      • Describe the various types of hypermobility.
      • Identify signs and symptoms of Hypermobility Spectrum Disorders.
      • Develop treatment plans for patients with hypermobility disorders that address their specific and unique needs.

Karina, a woman with short, brown hair and a pink flower in her hair smiles slightly. She is wearing big, black glasses and a red jacket

When I became acutely ill in 2010 with symptoms related to cervical spine instability, I fell into a big hole and didn’t quite know who I was anymore. I had to give up my job in research and couldn’t do most of the things I loved. For a long time, I struggled to find a new sense in life, something that gives me hope and purpose. 

And then ’We Are Visible’ happened! When I started to study in a journalism degree in Edinburgh, Scotland, I immediately knew that I wanted to produce a documentary film for my MA thesis. Even though I had never filmed before and didn’t know much about filmmaking, I felt that it would work out if I just put all my heart in it. And I certainly did! 

With my film ’We Are Visible,’ I wanted to give a voice to an often neglected minority: People with invisible disabilities, specifically people living with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. I am part of this community as well, and therefore  see it as my responsibility as a filmmaker and journalist to change misconceptions surrounding invisibly disabled people. 

”How can you be sick if you look totally fine?” is one of many hurtful comments people in my community have to hear on a daily basis because you can’t see their disability from the outside. Journalists and filmmakers alike talk about these people but not with them. I wanted to change this, so ’We Are Visible’ directly involved all of its contributors in order to represent this community in an accurate and truthful way. 

’We Are Visible’ shows people living with the invisible condition Ehlers-Danlos syndrome all around the globe and therefore conveys its diversity by following families in England, Malta, Germany, America, Holland, and Belgium throughout their daily lives.

’We Are Visible’ wants for the non-disabled audience of this film to understand more about the invisible condition, and for disabled viewers to be able to relate to people with a similar disability because there is so much more that unites than what separates us! But most importantly, it emphasizes not only the challenges we face every day but also the incredible strength every person with EDS has in order to cope with all those obstacles.

 

Pencil like drawings of all the faces of the main contributors of We Are Visible.

We Are Visible – Open Your Eyes

 

Details about the Film

SYNOPSIS:

“But you don’t look sick!”

‘We Are Visible’ gives a voice to a neglected community: People living with invisible disabilities, specifically in the context of the rare condition Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS). It showcases the challenges this community faces due to misconceptions surrounding invisibly disabled people and conveys the strength and resilience with which this community fights to become seen. Our condition might be invisible, but we are not!

We Are Visible

SCREENINGS of the film:

In January, there will be screenings in Rhode Island, Colorado, and a larger one in Orange, California. If you want to join any of those screenings, have a look at the Event page: https://we-are-visible-film.com/events/

Duration: 

69 minutes

Director, Producer, Editor

Karina grew up in Germany but currently lives in San Francisco, CA. After finishing school, she has worked in the medical field for eight years. As a laboratory technician, she worked in a German research facility with a focus on biotechnology. In 2010, she developed symptoms related to Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and comorbid conditions and was unable to continue her research. She soon found her passion for writing and started to combine her medical knowledge with her personal experiences with disability and chronic illness and produced articles about medicine, science, and disability. 2018, Karina was accepted into a journalism program in Edinburgh, Scotland, and has been studying ever since. As part of her degree, she has worked with blind journalist Belo Cipriani and produced three accessible short films called ”Firsts” that feature writers with different disabilities. Additionally, she writes for an Austrian magazine for medical professionals with a focus on the patient’s perspective, and she has also written for international publications such as the Columbia Journalism Review. Besides journalism, Karina has a strong passion for all activities that involve being on or in the ocean. She loves traveling, dogs, facts, and Heavy Metal music, and hates lies, intolerance, and cooking.

More about the filmmaker: www.karina-sturm.com 

Trailers

Trailer 1

https://vimeo.com/349770539

Trailer 2

https://vimeo.com/349770866

Tailer 3

https://vimeo.com/348046371

 

Find out more:

IMDb

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt11100592

Official Website:

https://we-are-visible-film.com

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/karinasturm86/

 

Flyer for 'We Are Visible' featuring black and white pictures of the main contributors, all women and two children, as well as film award laurels, and the synopsis of the film.

We Are Visible – A film about people living with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome

A great friend I met through EDS Wisconsin asked me today if I’ve ever written about how it feels to never really “be able” to have an emergency. If you’re reading this and you don’t have EDS, you probably are wondering what we mean. For example, if we had a gaping head wound and were taken by ambulance to the local emergency room, of course we would be having an emergency—so how exactly can we say we are not “able” to have an emergency?

Here’s the thing about life with a condition like EDS. A normal day for us can often include symptoms severe enough, if we were healthy, someone from our family would probably put us in the backseat of a car surrounded by pillows and take us to the hospital for immediate attention. Just yesterday, as I was playing with my two dogs, who you both know I love as much as just about anything in the world, I dislocated a shoulder. I heard it before I felt it, because I have grown so accustomed to this particular joint moving. I went to my bathroom and moved my body around enough to put it as close to the right location as I could. I had already taken the dose of painkillers I was allowed to take for the afternoon with my NSAIDS, so aside from the bag of frozen mixed vegetables I grabbed from the freezer for some icing, there really was not anything else I was able to do.

They’re skeptical of photos before cake, but they’re still worth a rough game of fetch.

Here is what would have happened had I gone to the emergency room. First, I would have had to explain to every person who came into the room that I have EDS, usually spelling it out for them. Last time I was in the emergency room, the DOCTOR (yes, a physician, an MD), said to me, “You have Maylers-Danyos Syndrome? That’s a new one. I’ve never heard of that.” I was in tremendous pain from what turned out to be a severe kidney infection (which took two more trips to the ER to get diagnosed, but I digress), so I thought perhaps in a state of pain, I hadn’t annunciated well. I annunciated and spelled out, “E-H-L-E-R-S…” and so on. He still had no idea what I was talking about. Next, they would have taken an x-ray of my shoulder. By this point, I would have relocated it well enough for it not to show on the x-ray. Because they’ve never heard of EDS, they would tell me it is unlikely I even dislocated it in the first place. They would offer me a higher dose of ibuprofen (yes, no actual painkillers) and advise me I may have pulled some muscles in the area. Usually at this point they say something like, “If you have this rare condition, you are probably seeing a specialist, so if you have a problem, follow up with them.” It has usually been hours by now, because I was triaged long after the screaming baby and the people with conditions they have heard of. My husband has drained his phone battery from playing games and trying to entertain me through the pain. Then, we’ll get another bill from another trip to another doctor who didn’t help me.

The last time I was in the ER multiple times, it took a routine visit to my pain management specialist for him to realize how truly sick I was. By this point, my fever was maintaining at 103-104 for more than  three weeks, but I had been given oral antibiotics with no culture for a kidney infection on my second trip after being told on my first visit that my extreme abdominal pain was caused by an ovarian cyst (that had not burst) smaller than the width of a dime. I was no longer in my hometown and in a system more equipped to handle my condition, but I only felt safe, because he called the ER. He walked them through both of the conditions I have. Aside from EDS, I have a rare metabolic bone disorder called Hypophosphatasia that leaves me incredibly susceptible to infection due to poor creation of white blood cells. Without an appropriate culture of my infection, it was extremely unlikely the antibiotics would be effective. I typically get 10-15 bacterial infections each year requiring antibiotics. My doctor told me if I did not agree to go to the ER, he would call the ambulance to take me because I was tachycardic from this infection and fever. I required significant amounts of fluids from dehydration and IV antibiotics, in addition to beginning a course of oral antibiotics to follow up on the infection. Without those specific instructions from a physician, it is likely I would have had the same experience. I am blessed to be articulate and skilled at advocating for myself and yet, I still do not have the same experiences in emergency rooms and urgent care as those without my conditions, because doctors simply are unprepared to handle someone as complex as me.

This post is for every EDS patient who has ever had a severe injury and decided a trip to the ER would be a waste of time and money for no reason but the lack of understanding. This post is a reminder why so many of us are fighting to educate physicians about EDS. This is for the parents sitting next to their children in those emergency rooms who do not yet have a diagnosis who end up separated from their babies, so someone can ask if they feel safe at home. It is better now than it was when I was a child and I believe the work we are doing today will mean it will be even better when your children are adults. This doesn’t make it fair or easy, but it does make the effort worth it.

You are not alone. We are all in this together.

Thank you for supporting EDS Wisconsin in whatever way you can–and there are many. Your support through monetary contributions, event attendance, social media presence, supporting patients through mentorship and listening, following our blog, and even just by having an awareness of our experience with EDS has allowed EDS Wisconsin to make an impact in 2018.

We wanted to let you know what EDS Wisconsin achieved as a result of YOUR generous contributions and unwavering support.

Of all the events that took place in 2018, we were most thrilled to hold the First Annual Meagan’s HOPE Memorial Walk for Suicide Prevention and EDS Awareness. This event had 186 participants and for an event in its first year, we could not believe we were so blessed to have this many people in attendance.

One of the most important tools and major hurdles for EDS patients is genetic testing. In 2018, we developed a relationship with Director Christina Zaleski and Dr. Juan Dong at PreventionGenetics. We were able to tour their state-of-the -art facility, and work with them to help make their new 45-gene panel available to more patients! Afterwards, we had the tools  to help patients get the testing they need.

We hosted over FORTY support groups for patients with EDS and related conditions throughout Wisconsin – in Wausau, Milwaukee, Madison, LaCrosse, and Appleton/Green Bay. These groups and the support they provide continue to grow and help individuals in need. EDS Wisconsin also provides online support group meetings for those who live outside these areas or struggle to leave their homes. We have also connected kids and teens by having TWO support groups for them, something we are thankful we will be able to continue thanks to the ongoing support and financial contributions of our volunteers, sponsors and donors! These support groups are so important as the  feedback we received showed an overwhelming majority felt they had ZERO support prior to attending our support group meetings. 

EDS Wisconsin  strives to provide education that address the specific needs of our community. Since our inception, we have hosted and/or participated in :

  • 5 Tips for Managing Persistent Pain with Dr Linda S Bluestein, MD
  • Managing Your Pain with Dr Linda S. Bluestein, MD
  • Conquering Appointment Anxiety for Medically Complex Patients
  • Frequently Asked Questions on Genetic Testing with PreventionGenetics
  • Trivia Challenge 2018
  • Assisted the Chicago Support Group with educating medical students at the University of Illinois – Chicago
  • “My Personal Experience with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome” (available on YouTube)
  • How to Make a Medical Binder with Backpack Health
  • How to Make May EDS Awareness Month (available on YouTube).

Both Meagan’s Walk and the 2019 Trivia Challenge are right around the corner. These incredible fundraising events Strengthen Connections within our community, while providing the valuable financial resources and support we need to keep this organization on track to achieve its vision of a better Wisconsin, where EDS and related conditions are better understood, treated, and supported!

Your contributions have made it possible for us to provide support group print materials and supplies, support group leader training, supplemental grants for 2 children and 3 adults to attend conferences related to pain and EDS, have provided food to a family where both parents had surgery within a week of each other – the second one was due to an accident. We helped one patient pay for medication when it would have otherwise been impossible, improving quality of life for a member of our EDS family.

Looking forward, we are developing a support group leader training and education program because we believe it is so important to have quality, support groups in as many areas as possible, and that our support group leaders also need to receive the support they need.

We have begun working on a program to provide education about EDS and related conditions to medical professionals. This program will be piloted in the Fox Valley area in honor of our fallen member Lisa Klatkiewicz. Find out more about this initiative at Meagan’s Walk 2019

We will continue to regularly feature blog posts by Stephanie Vander Pas who shares not only about EDS itself, but about her experiences and events that connect us all. Stephanie’s candid writing provides readers with an insight into what it is like to be living with EDS, at the same time her words build strong, human connections, even with those who do not have EDS. Thank you Stephanie for sharing our thoughts and feelings, and for being our voice.

We are so excited to be working with over 70 amazing, dedicated, passionate and motivated volunteers who take valuable time out of their lives to help progress the mission and vision of EDS Wisconsin! When you see or talk to one of our volunteers, make sure you tell them thank you. Many of our volunteers also live with EDS which makes volunteering especially challenging sometimes. As a result, EDS Wisconsin is implementing a Buddy System to ensure that our Volunteers get the support that they need.

We have an incredible amount of gratitude to the medical professionals who have learned about EDS themselves and are educating both patients and peers as we move toward a future with improved quality of life for EDS patients--or maybe even a cure. These medical professionals are incredible and we are so thankful to know and work with them.

The mission of EDS Wisconsin is to provide support, resources and education to both patients AND medical providers. Our generous supporters and volunteers make all of this possible. We firmly believe our work will continue to make all goals achievable and contribute to the overall improvement of living with EDS and related conditions in Wisconsin.

From the very bottom of our hearts, thank you for your support of all we do as we work to improve peoples lives daily.

Tammy, Stephanie, & The Entire EDS Wisconsin Team

It’s funny whenever I find myself taking a break from writing, it’s usually because I’m doing the same thing to blog readers as I do to those in my own life–pretending everything is going so well I don’t have anything to say. If any of you know me in real life, the idea of me having nothing to say is, in itself, hilarious. Yet, here I sit, at my desk, in my wheelchair, a dog on my lap, a TENS machine at its highest power attached to my back and I’m still not really sure how to write this blog post.

Essex likes to be cozy

In the world of chronic illness and chronic pain, we all learn to tell healthy and able-bodied people we’re doing “fine” pretty much all the time. We do this for a variety of reasons, including, but not limited to:

  • Our medical conditions are complicated and explaining what is going on would take longer than anyone wants to spend on hearing how we’re doing
  • People generally don’t want to hear when things are getting worse
  • Pity isn’t something we thrive on and we know at some point, it runs out
  • Many people just simply aren’t sure how to react to hearing how we’re doing

I’ve been telling even myself I’m “fine” for the better part of the last several months, even as I fought off a severe infection that required multiple emergency room visits in which physicians did not understand my condition and in which I was time and time again not given the necessary antibiotics to fight the infection. I woke up one morning with a fever of 104 degrees, feeling like I was naked on an iceberg, and shaking so hard I couldn’t even type out a message on my phone. That day was our second trip to the emergency room. Even then, I didn’t get IV antibiotics.

I didn’t get them until the doctor who generally treats the pain caused by my EDS saw me for a regular appointment and realized how incredibly sick I still was even after 9 days on antibiotics. I was tachycardic. I had a fever. My kidneys were so infected the pain in my back was far more severe than even on a normal day. As he looked me over, he called the emergency room down the street and instructed them on my condition, telling them exactly how serious this was.

He also looked at all the blood work from all my previous ER trips…and then from all my trips to all the doctors over the last six years, which is when he noticed a commonality. I had alarmingly low levels of a necessary enzyme in my blood consistently for six years. These levels had been flagged in my blood work every time it had been drawn for all these years and are indicative of a condition found in 1 in 100,000-300,000 people. It is a metabolic bone disorder that cause almost all of the things he and I had been trying to figure out for years. You see, I have incredibly curved long bones in my legs. I developed scoliosis in adulthood. I lost my baby teeth before preschool. My pain responds to almost nothing. These are all MAJOR indicators of Hypophosphotasia, marked by these clinical symptoms, and below normal levels of alkaline phosphotase in the blood. He was the first doctor to notice this. Normally, in his words, because it is even less known than EDS, they look only for extremely high levels of ALP, a marker for kidney failure.

He immediately consulted genetics as I was sent to the emergency room for treatment for the infection, which is now finally gone. I received a message the following Sunday night from him (seriously, he is THAT dedicated a physician) letting me know genetics agreed with him that it is extremely likely I have this condition and would be contacting me. Genetics says it is either this condition or another metabolic bone disorder, but by some stroke of luck, a company offers free testing for this condition, so currently, my spit is at a lab after my husband mailed it for me, because I was just too anxious.

How have I handled all of this? Well, I stopped using my mobility aids and have been acting like I’m a completely healthy and able-bodied person through incredible amounts of pain. I have tried to convince myself it’s not possible I have another condition doctors missed for years, especially one that was IN MY BLOODWORK by acting healthy and “fine.” That caught up to me today, in the middle of a grocery store aisle when I dropped something on the ground and realized I couldn’t bend far enough to pick it up. By the time I got home, I could barely leave the couch and had to use my wheelchair the rest of the day, mostly through tears and anger.

I’ve resolved to accept my reality no matter what it is. In fact, it could be good news to know exactly what is going on with my body and why I have had these struggles that do not necessarily line up specifically with EDS. I’ve also resolved to stop saying I’m fine when I’m not. I’ve resolved to stop trying to convince myself I’m fine when I’m not.

It’s a REALLY good idea to work on your mindset. You can work towards a positive attitude. You cannot trick your body in to having different DNA than it does. Sometimes, like I have written before, accepting your limits is okay. Sometimes, when someone asks how you are doing, it’s okay to say, “I’m in a lot of pain today, but my husband and I had a great dinner date last night” or “Thank you so much for asking; I’ve been having a really hard time with my health lately and I need someone to talk to.”

So, I’m not fine, but by accepting that, I think I will be much sooner.

I post a lot online. For some people, it’s probably annoying or way too much. For others who share my condition or have family members who share my condition, it’s probably comfort. For others, they probably just don’t feel much of anything about it. Honestly, I don’t much care where you fall on that spectrum–and I don’t mean that in a rude way. I do it for two groups of people: myself and the people who need the words I write. Everyone else knows how to avoid reading them.

I wear makeup to the emergency room…I don’t know. Sue me.

I was in the hospital most of yesterday. It’s not the first time that’s ever happened. My husband couldn’t be there with me, because he had to be at work. I have some complicated issues with my ovaries and uterus that are causing intense pain and major symptoms in my life that frankly, none of you want to hear about.

Here’s the problem, though. I hear this all the time. I get told this all the time. It’s one of the comments I read the most on my Instagram posts and blog and other internet formats. “How are you ALWAYS happy and positive?”

I am absolutely, in no uncertain terms ALWAYS happy or positive. In fact, if you asked my husband, he would probably laugh so hard at you about that he would end up on the floor. Not only am I just NOT ALWAYS happy, I have clinical depression and severe anxiety. I am medicated for both and despite medication, I still feel them. I work with a psychiatrist and I talk about how I feel and I have yet to make it through a therapy session without crying and saying “not fair” at least once.

So, how am I smiling frequently? Are my positive posts lies? Am I always sad and crying?

No, that’s not the case either. I genuinely believe I was put on this earth with this chronic, incurable condition to help other people. I have a positive attitude about it a lot of the time. I have moments when I scream and yell and cry and use words that are not appropriate for a blog or for children…but I also have moments when I read the words other people comment on the work I’ve done with EDS Wisconsin or the posts I’ve done myself and I remember what I can do with the situation I’m in. I remember there are young kids looking at me and thinking about what’s going to happen to them when they get older and I hope what they’re thinking is that it’s going to be okay. I hope they notice that I have a wonderful husband and a supportive family and two adorable dogs and I served in elected office starting when I was only 20 years old and they realize that even if they’re sick, they can still have fulfilling life. I hope they forgive themselves for the moments they are angry at the world for giving them EDS but also find joy in their uniqueness.

I mean, look at her face. She can brighten any day.

I’m different from most other people. I’m different not just because I’m sick. I’m different because I can write and I know every word to every Taylor Swift song ever written and I can paint tiny artwork on my fingernails. I’m different because my mother tells me I’m the only person she’s ever known who’s actually uniquely talented at coloring. I’m different because I have a tattoo of my dog’s crazy big ears on my left shoulder and a tattoo in memory of my wonderful grandfather on my right wrist. I just also happen to have really crappy collagen that means I sometimes use a wheelchair or the most blinged-out crutches you have every seen.

I am not always positive. EDS is not even a little bit fair. I wouldn’t change my life for anything; I love who I am–and I can feel that way while also knowing I wouldn’t wish EDS on anyone else in the world. I may not always be positive, but I am positive I wouldn’t want to be anyone, but the Taylor Swift-loving, puppy-cuddling, has way too many bottles of nail polish person I am.

I’m just me. Positive, negative, me.

If you read this and if you are in my shoes, please remember what I always say about self-pity and sadness:

It’s okay to visit…as long as you don’t unpack and live there.

If you have a chronic pain condition, you probably know just how much work it is to exist. I read one of those internet memes the other day that had me thinking. It said something like,

“No, you’re wrong. I’m not faking being sick. I’m faking being well.”

It made me laugh for a second. If you have EDS and have ever parked in a handicapped parking space without needing a wheelchair, you have probably had at least one person tell you not to park there. I have been accused by multiple people of seeking attention or pretending things are worse than they really are.

After I laughed, though, I started crying. You see, my pain has been absolutely out of control lately. I started a new job just under two months ago and my doctors and I already decided I can’t physically handle it. I have pushed myself every single day to get to my office and do my work, smiling and greeting people through pain, all the while my medications getting less and less effective and my wheelchair becoming more and more necessary. I used to come home after work at night and be able to enjoy myself. Now, less than six months in to my marriage, I find myself coming home from work and wanting to do nothing but lay in bed and watch TV because my body hurts so much. I work primarily in an office. I sit primarily behind a desk. Most people who see my at my job would never even guess that I get home and often choke back tears asking my husband to work knots out of my muscles and then cry as he has to push on the really painful spots because that’s the only way to get rid of them.

I quit my job. It broke my heart. I am not someone who quits a job after two months, but I know I cannot do it and I need to accept that, but I am still overcome with guilt thinking of what inconvenience I have caused others. I am someone guilty of measuring my value by my productivity and I do not feel productive.

I was back home over this past weekend for a family funeral. We lost a wonderful man. It was absolutely devastating–and the first time my extended family really saw me in my wheelchair. It was the first time my parents saw what happens to me after a full day of activity now. It was the first time people close to me realized how truly exhausting it is just to exist in a body that doesn’t work right. Between the emotional and physical pain, I am still tired almost a week later.

Why am I writing this post that seems like me just whining about how hard it’s been to be me lately (even though I promise you I actually do like being me)?

Because it can be lonely here and it should not have to be.

I am making a conscious choice to share these massive struggles with you, because I’ve read the struggles of others lately and I do not want them to feel alone. I want to remind the world that just because someone has pretty makeup on and a cute outfit doesn’t mean they aren’t in incredible pain–in fact, that makeup and clothing might be their best effort to hide it. I want the others who are currently in pain that feels out of control to know there are others who are laying in bed wishing they could go do something and feeling guilty for holding others back.

I am 28 years old and I cried on my mother’s lap this weekend about wishing I had a normal body.

Kids with EDS feel that way, too. They need to know it’s okay to feel that way sometimes. They need to know not to live there. They need to know sadness and grief over their condition is natural, but isolation is dangerous. They need to cry to a parent or a friend instead of hiding their pain until they cannot bear it anymore. We lose chronic pain patients to suicide because their mental health becomes too great a burden as they wish and hope for a “normal body” and have no outlet for those emotions.

I have made many mistakes in the last few months. I have overlooked the struggles of others while enduring my own. We must all work to see pain in ourselves and pain in others. We must avoid the loneliness and isolation of chronic pain and chronic illness. We must allow our emotions to have an outlet before they take control. When you lose another thing in your life because of this crappy condition, you are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to be sad. Your life, though, it is still beautiful. You are still wonderful. I think you will find in recognizing others’ pain, you may find relief and comfort for yours.

I may not be able to do the jobs I hoped I could do. I had dreams I can no longer achieve due to my physical limitations, but I also have new dreams I wouldn’t have if I didn’t have EDS. I’m going to work on those for a while. I’m going to remind myself of all the beautiful people in the world who don’t care if I look pretty and say I hurt; they believe me anyway (and want to know the name of my eyeshadow palette so they can look pretty through the pain, too).

Remember: I am here. We are here. Stay here.


Hello, guys! It has been a very, VERY long time since I have written here. There are many reasons in my life why I haven’t been able to share with you for a while, including that my husband and I moved, got a new dog, and started new jobs. For those of you who know me personally, you probably are not surprised I have taken a break from blogging. For those of you who don’t, I’m sorry for the gap there has been in my writing. Please know I have missed being here, missed the chance to share with you, and missed what working with EDS Wisconsin means. Please know that my work here matters so much to me.

We grew by four paws this fall!

So, what brought me back to share four days before my favorite holiday? Pain. I want to write to you, for you, and truthfully almost WITH you because I am in pain. 

Most of us with EDS spent a long time being told nothing was wrong with us. We were given a laundry list of things that would make us “better.” For many of us, there was a phrase that sounded something like “it’s all in your head.” For me, it was 13 years from the first time my mom begged a doctor to explain what was happening to me until the day a doctor actually did. 

This creates a huge problem for us. We take offense then, later, when someone suggests we might need psychiatric treatment. It makes sense, right? You spent most of your life being told you’re crazy, someone finally tells you that you actually have something wrong with your body, and then they suggest you see a SHRINK? Why on earth would you need psychiatric help if your disease is real? Why would you need someone to “fix your head” if the problem is ACTUALLY in your body. 

Well, I have one, huge, giant newsflash for you:

Having an incurable, genetic condition that causes severe chronic pain and usually comes with other conditions with their own symptoms–that causes psychiatric symptoms in itself. You don’t need psychiatric help because you are imagining your pain. You need psychiatric help because you ARE NOT imagining your pain.

I work with a great psychiatrist. I started working with a new one recently because of some trauma I’ve experienced. I knew I needed more help than I was getting where I was going before, so I asked my doctor for a referral to psychiatry. I will never forget explaining EDS to him the first time I met him, though, and the experience I’d had in my childhood with my pain and the doctors and the whole “it’s in your head” thing.

“Of course it’s in your head. That’s where we feel pain. That’s how we feel pain. Without your head, you couldn’t have pain at all.”

I have never, in my life, felt such validation. I think those words are burned in to my brain now. I wish I could go back and hug 13-year old Stephanie against my chest and tell her those words in her ear. I wish I could hug her as she begged her mom to find a doctor who would make the pain stop and not one who would just tell her she’s fat. 

There is no cure for EDS. That doesn’t mean you won’t get “better.” It does mean it will always be a part of your life. For some, like me, that means using a wheelchair when I’m only 27. For some, it means not being able to work outside the home. It may mean co-morbid conditions that making eating, drinking, and just existing in the outside world a challenge. For some, all those years of being told it wasn’t real can cause very, very real psychiatric conditions. That does not negate the very real physical part of the condition. It does mean you need help.

I was recently diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’m not going to write about the incident leading to that diagnosis. It’s not relevant to my blog and I’m still learning to cope with it. What I do want to tell you is this:

-My EDS pain is as well-managed as it can be, but for an EDS patient, it is poorly managed. Because of the nature of my pain, I have not responded well to many treatments and we’ve resorted to wheelchairs and other ways to reduce how much I use my body because there simply has been no other successful means of handling my pain.
-When my stress levels are worse, that pain gets EVEN WORSE than it already is. If I rejected the psychiatric help I need, I can’t even imagine what kind of pain I would be in.
-I also find a lot of value in just having someone to talk to who isn’t in my life every single day about the reality of living with EDS. A psychiatrist, psychologist, school counselor, or any mental health professional can let you talk about everything in your life that’s bothering you without it becoming a self-centered nightmare like it would if you spent an hour with a friend in the same way. 
-I highly recommend signing a disclosure agreement that lets your pain doctor work with your psychiatrist. My experience having these two work together has improved my quality of life. I’m not your doctor–but these people would be. Let them help you.

At the end of the day, my point is this: stop being offended at the suggestion of mental health care after an EDS diagnosis. Nobody is saying you are crazy.  I’ve written about the “mental whiplash” of thinking you are imagining it and then finding out you have EDS before; any person who has experienced that PROBABLY needs help from a mental health provider.

I reject the notion that it makes you weak to need mental health assistance. In fact, the day I called the clinic and said, “I really need help and I need it as soon as you can give it to me” took some of the greatest strength I possess. There is so much strength in acknowledging your weakness. 

Every EDS patient is amazingly strong. Don’t you dare let anyone tell you otherwise–but also, don’t let that strength scare you away from asking for help.

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