Weakness in Paradise: Traveling with Myasthenia Gravis

I was officially diagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis in the spring of 2017, even though I began developing symptoms two years earlier. Shortly after starting two daily medications, I was getting my symptoms under control and learning how to navigate the MG mindfield.

Three months after my official MG diagnosis, I’m boarding an airplane for a nine day, four island adventure in Hawaii. I was going with a best friend and for both of us, this trip would be our 50th state to visit.  

Our first day in Hawaii was spent in Honolulu, driving around the island of Oahu and enjoying our first real Hawaiian food and the beautiful weather. The next day we were up early at 5:30 in order to get to Pearl Harbor early.  We had to be in line at 8:00 am in order to get tickets to the USS Arizona Memorial.  After touring Pearl Harbor, we visited some other attractions before heading back to the airport, turning in the rental and catching our flight from Oahu to the Big Island. 

Arriving at the Kona Airport on the Big Island, it was late in the afternoon. We toured Kona, had a great dinner and got to see some of the sights, then called it a day. The MG was starting to cause a few problems, primarily neck weakness, but I was keeping up my meds and felt confident it was under control.

Getting up early and checking out of the hotel, we head for Mauna Kea, the tallest point in Hawaii. At 13,806’ above sea level, it can be exhausting even for healthy people, but what incredible views.  We followed the recommendations of the Maunakea Visitor Information Center and spent an hour at their 9,000 foot elevation location. This gave us a chance to get acclimated to the thinner atmosphere and buy some over-priced souvenirs.

I was really surprised to find I could breathe easily at the summit, and after taking in the views, it was time to return to sea level and tour more of the Big Island. We visited Volcanoes National Park, walked on old lava flows and witnessed the lava glow at night from the Halema’uma’u Crater. We even made it to South Point, the most southern location in the U.S. After that, it was back to the hotel and grab some sleep. The next day was when my MG really started rearing it’s ugly head.  I could barely hold my head up for more than a few minutes, and if I looked downward, I couldn’t raise my head back up without using my hands to help. I tried a slight increase of my Mestinon dosage, and that only resulted in abdominal spasms and more frequent stops looking for a restroom. The neck weakness remained.

Departing the Big Island on Hawaiian Air, we flew over Maui, our next destination. We had to fly to Honolulu, deplane, had a short layover and then catch a different plane to Maui. The airport was barely air conditioned, and the outside temperatures were typical tropical weather, 80’s and humid. Dragging my suitcase, CPAP and carrying my camera bag, my head was now permanently hanging on my chest if I can’t manually hold it up. I got a few strange looks from the flight crew but no one said anything

On the flight, I discovered that if I could sit slightly reclined, I could essentially balance my head on my shoulders and hold it up. While seated I could turn my head right and left with no difficulty, but if I was walking, I was looking down. And when you had to return your seat to an upright position on the aircraft, I was again forced to support my head with my hand.

The remainder of my Hawaiian vacation was filled with beautiful sights, some great food, and some scary respiratory issues that almost sent me to the E.R.  Because we had to carry all of our belongings from island to island, each flight was labor-intensive. Each time we landed, we had to then carry our belongings through the un-air conditioned airports, and load them on the airport shuttle to the car rental facility. Then unload everything at the car rental, load it in the car, then head to the hotel and unload. I think that this was my real downfall, all of the loading and unloading of our carry-ons and luggage, and multiple times we had to do this for each excursion. I was fortunate that my friend was a Respiratory Therapist and she kept a close eye on my breathing. We considered cancelling the rest of the island visits and just rest in Honolulu, but I felt confident we could make it.

We continued the trip visiting Kauai, the last of the four main islands of Hawaii. We had now seen Pearl Harbor, the Mauna Kea Observatories, and the active volcano at Volcanoes National Park. The beautiful beaches of Maui, the actual gates for Jurassic Park, all have been visited.  Almost all of our travel checklist was completed.

On our last night in Hawaii, we returned to Honolulu for our return flight home the next day. We were fortunate to get tickets to the premier Hawaiian Luau in Honolulu, Paradise Cove, but the MG was really getting out of control. Now I was dealing with neck weakness, difficulty swallowing, and GI issues. The luau was outdoors, but it was late afternoon and thankfully there was a nice breeze. The ocean breeze and the views helped moderate the heat and humidity. 

The food was awesome, but in order to eat it, I had to hold my head up. I discovered holding your head up with a hand beneath your chin just doesn’t work. I’m trying to chew and my head is bobbing up and down like a bobble-head doll. OK, time for Plan B. I used my left hand and pressed against my forehead, then fed myself with my right hand, all the while trying to lean back slightly in my seat. I was successful about 80% of the time, and the unsuccessful 20% was accumulating on my shirt. Yes, people were glancing in my direction occasionally and you could tell they had no idea why I was wearing my dinner. It was certainly an evening to remember.  

 

In Hawaii, I learned that “Aloha” is used for both “hello” and “goodbye”. However, the true meaning of “Aloha” is that of Love, Peace, and Compassion. I can honestly say that Aloha describes the Hawaiian people, they were truly the friendliest, happiest people I’ve ever met. “Aloha” is also what I get from this wonderful Myasthenia Gravis Unmasked Community, and from Rebekah, our brave, compassionate and beautiful leader.  

I have written this short story to hopefully inspire my fellow MG Warriors that travel with MG is not only possible, it can be enjoyable.  Just remember to consider all of the additional challenges you will be facing on your trip. Remember the weather can be a significant factor with MG, and so can significant elevation changes. I was very fortunate to have a good friend with me that was understanding and supportive. I would certainly make this trip again, but next time I would take it a little bit slower. I don’t intend to let MG control me, I’m going to control it. I just have to keep learning from my mistakes. 

Aloha!

Author
Bryan Lamb

Meghan’s Journey with Myasthenia Gravis

In November 2016 I ran a full marathon for the first time, the following May I was in the hospital. My MG came on quickly and hard, in less than 6 months I went from running daily and being in the best shape of my life to being unable to lift my head. I first experienced double vision on and off and ended up going to urgent care when my face began to droop. Doctors first thought I was having a stroke since I was so weak and had some unusual symptoms for someone my age. I was lucky enough to find an ophthalmologist who referred me to my neurologist who had seen MG before.
During one of my lowest moments with this disease my husband found me on the floor barely breathing and had to carry me into the emergency room. Last year I spent a total of 18 days in the hospital and had two crises and was intubated. Like a lot of us MG warriors I am still working to find that magical combination of medications and treatments that allow me to function. You know you’re cool when you’re in your 30’s and on first name basis with your pharmacist. I now walk with a cane on bad days and the double vision has never completely left.
I am still coming to terms with being unable to do the same things I used to while trying to keep hope that I will go hiking and running like I used to. There are definitely days I still get depressed about everything that was taken and don’t handle it well. Since my diagnosis I have finally finished college and make big strides in my career, I might not be able to control my MG but I am going to make the most of the time I have while I can.
(The photos below were taken a little over 6 months apart.)

– Fellow Warrior
Meghan Pachas

The Misunderstood Reality of the Advocating Patient

 


Fair warning: this is an editorial piece born of my own experiences and passion. It is not rooted in any singular experience but in an education shaped over time and hands on experience all across the world. This is not meant to be reflective of anything other than my own opinion and is not intended to be taken as an application to all.

I hear this particular phrase bandied about so often that I think I would repeat it in a coma. “The best thing you can do is be your own advocate. You deserve xyz care so don’t be shy in asking for it” and dozens of other well meant but poorly understood iterations. And over the years, I find it increasingly tone deaf. Don’t get me wrong. There is absolute truth in this ideal and I strongly believe in self advocacy!

I also have learned over the years as I’ve advocated for myself for the past decade, and now for others the last four plus years, that the ideal and reality often don’t mesh. Advocacy (be it from the patient or other person) is often seen as a negative challenge from practitioners. (I’m speaking broadly here and with an acknowledgment that this will never apply to all but I am speaking to a majority experience.)

So why aren’t we talking about it?

Doctors, PA’s, NP’s, even nurses and RT’s etc., struggle with knowing what to do with patients like us who don’t fit into averages, studied percentages and easily determined criteria. With complicated and rare diseases like MG, there is a sharply increased necessity for contextual understanding and the ability to humbly stay open when faced with a patient whose disease you know nothing of.

Perhaps greater still is the care provider who has a perception of skilled knowledge without truly having skilled knowledge. This in and of itself is just as challenging as those who are ignorant, perhaps even more so. These men and women up and down the hierarchy of patient care are often the most adamant in refusing to listen to a patient, caregiver or advocate presenting concerns about their triage, dismissal or care plan. They insist they are well versed and refuse to listen, regardless of how official your resources or how plainly clear the research that stipulates the opposite.

These providers increasingly show hostility and retributive action against those who do speak up and advocate, putting the patient in a serious dilemma between the gamble of choosing silence and poor care or advocacy and the strong potential of anger, denial, dismissal, discharge, patient abandonment, false psychiatric diagnosis or dangerous mismanagement

There is also a concerning trend in their difficulty in removing bias when the presenting patient “looks fine” and whose complaints aren’t readily found in initial (and correct) testing.  Lack of salient, primary knowledge on Myasthenia Gravis or accountability for published works and writings have led to extremely unregulated and often incorrect information which is then clumsily applied to the patient who may or may not be in distress.

When the rubber meets the road, reality screams back that the idealized vs received (reality) attitudes are vastly outnumbered.

So here we have a patient community in MG who doesn’t “show up” in your standard triage and vital checks, nor is easily “seen” and often deviates from standard presentation. Particularly in moments of surgery, exacerbation and emergency, this becomes a point of fear and conflict. This often leads to dismissal from the moment triage begins to ER physician evaluation and can carry through into units with bedside care and respiratory therapy intervention, sometimes at the patient’s most critical moments. And when the dismissal, outright refusal of care, disbelief, inappropriate action, wrong medication and misdiagnosis of psychiatric disease comes into play, as it often does, the patient is left to intercede on their own behalf, IF they are physically able.

Well meant, the advice to simply advocate for oneself and seek or even respectfully demand specific care is rarely well met. In fact, part of the criteria for somatoform (psych) disorders, is a patient who believes their doctor is wrong or insists they are really sick.

And in spite of placed channels for seeking out the care you deserve via charge nurses, the administration and even some hospital advocates, it is almost unheard of to see them over throw or challenge a physician’s treatment course or dismissal. (Again, there are always exceptions but I have spent more time than I can say advocating and talking to nurses, charges, hospital advocates, liaisons, floor managers, and administrators of all stripes of importance, and the intended patient protection morphes into physician protection. Some administrators have even laughingly told me, “good luck getting the doctors to talk to you. They don’t even call us back.”).

In fact, it has become so highly politicized within the hierarchy of medicine that other physicians tend to shy away or refuse altogether from the potential challenge of their peers. Second opinions are often riddled with reticence, refusal to contradict or ineffectual action.

What should be a fail safe for patients can quickly and easily backfire and cause clinicians, nurses, RT’s etc., to antagonistically dig in further. And when the tools structured to give patients a sense of protection against these issues are ignored or used against the patient, the original and well placed intention to advocate can turn into a nightmare.

Emotional trauma from such encounters is not on the decline, even as awareness and patient empowerment is being pushed more and more. Patients often fear seeking out the ER or hospitals and ignore critical symptoms due to previous encounters that left them feeling abandoned, untreated, mistreated, bullied or placed in jeopardy.

My long winded point is this…like many things in life, it’s rarely black and white and often doesn’t work out in real life like it does on paper. The idea is not to discourage advocacy. I highly encourage it. It is part of why I spend so much time trying to share information and educate so you feel more empowered when these moments come. But I wish there was intellectual honesty within our own communities and within medicine about what really goes on within the walls of hospitals and clinics.

Encouraging advocacy without understanding what that demands of the patient or their loved ones and the potential negative consequences does not propel us towards a future where real change and positive movement occurs. It instead keeps us in places of antagonism with those meant to treat us.

And while it can be argued that medical staff mean well but it’s just “too rare to expect them to really understand”, I would say that is not applicable to the conversation. Lack of knowledge or those who mean well does not translate into bias, arrogance, refusal to listen to the patient, their advocate/family member/caregiver, pulling care, refusing care, labeling, assigning psych or drug seeking status without exhaustive proof etc…has nothing whatsoever to do with a disease being rare. It’s an excuse that is harmful. Lack of awareness is readily solved. Refusal to stay humble and learn has no excuse.

Perhaps, instead of offering an entreaty left to ambiguity, (after all, advocacy means a great many different things to many people) we can begin to truly empower by teaching when and how to utilize the placed channels of protection, what to do when advocacy is working against you and how to help others help you. Advocacy, if nothing else, is a honed skill, forged over time and is found more often in offense than defense.

Hundreds of thousands of rare disease and chronically ill patients like ourselves fight the same battles of fear of hospitals and ER’s, negative consequences to standing up for yourself, damaging misdiagnosis and assumptions that can follow you every time you need future care. Far too many stay home instead of accessing help because the help we thought would come doesn’t and so we learn to stay away.

It is my hope that intellectual honesty and seeking positive encounters whenever possible will press in new roads that lead to shattered stigmas and bias that harm clinical trust and individual well being. And maybe, just maybe, we will learn to stop uttering “just advocate for yourself” as though it’s a curative without offering up the strength of walking with one another and learning what it means together.

– Rebekah Dorr
Patient and Advocate
Founder/Admin, Myasthenia Gravis Unmasked
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