Categories
Patient stories

Rolling with It

When Linda Matthews started having trouble standing up out of a chair, she wasn’t surprised. She was 70 years old, about the same age as her mother when she was diagnosed with inclusion body myositis (IBM).

“I was her caretaker, so I knew all about IBM,” Linda says. “As soon as I started showing symptoms, I went to my doctor and I said I’ve got IBM. They did the muscle biopsy and the bloodwork and the EMG. Within a week, it was definitely diagnosed.”

Often when someone is diagnosed with a disabling condition like IBM, they rely on their partner or a family member to care for them as the tasks of daily living become more difficult to manage alone. Linda, however, was already serving as caregiver for her husband Bill, who had been recently diagnosed with a different rare, autoimmune muscle disease: myasthenia gravis (MG).

In March of 2012, Bill had heart bypass surgery. About a month or so later during a routine eye exam, his ophthalmologist noticed his eyes looked a bit droopy. Linda’s brother, who had a friend with MG suggested he see a neurologist. When he did, it didn’t take long for the diagnosis to be confirmed. Bill says his neurologist thought it was the surgery that set it off.

Despite their disabling diagnoses, the Matthews do not despair. In fact, sharing similar diseases makes them more sensitive to each other’s needs. They have many of the same symptoms—muscle weakness, fatigue, mobility challenges—so they each understand, for example, when the other says they need to rest.

“Nothing is as important as getting the rest you need and taking care of yourself,” Linda says. “And it’s good that I know he’s got my back. I can say, ‘No, not right now,’ and I don’t have to justify it.”

“Sometimes you can tell when the care partner doesn’t understand that,” says Bill of other couples they’ve met. “And you can see how difficult it makes it for the person who’s got the disease. In a way, it’s to our advantage that we understand firsthand what the disease is doing to each other. We don’t have to have that fight.”

Having her mother pave the way for her has also made Linda’s journey just a bit easier. She knows what to expect, and she can plan accordingly as her muscle weakness progresses.

When she saw a Hoyer lift at an estate sale, for example, she scooped it up, knowing that one day it may come in handy if she starts having trouble moving from the bed to the chair. She has a motorized wheelchair that somebody gave her. It’s parked in the garage, though, since she still gets around fine with a rollator. The couple also recently traded their car for a wheelchair accessible van.

When they downsized their home earlier this year, Linda and Bill moved to a one-story (stairs had become a challenge) duplex next to their daughter’s family. Before they moved in, they remodeled the house to accommodate their future needs, adding a roll-in shower, raised toilets, grab bars in the bathroom, and wider doors that will accommodate a wheelchair.

The one thing that couldn’t be retrofitted for accessibility, though, was the kitchen. But Linda just winks and says, “Maybe by then I’ll teach Bill to cook, because I’m the one in the wheelchair.”

That’s not a problem for Bill. “We’ve been married for 56 years. We know how it’s done,” he says.

Linda and Bill feel very lucky to have the support of their family. They love living next to their daughter, son-in-law, and nine-year-old grandson and call on them when they need a hand. When they want to give their son-in-law a break—like when Bill needed to get to the hospital recently for cataract surgery—one of their two sons is always willing to step in and help out too.

Being part of a patient support community helps the couple in other ways. They belong to MG Texas, an MG support group in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. And they are active in Northeast Texas support group of The Myositis Association as well as on Facebook forums through Myositis Support and Understanding.

Getting together with others who share their disease helps Linda and Bill learn the medical ins and outs of both diseases, so they are better able to care for themselves and each other. It also gives them access to a whole pool of practical information that’s not readily available elsewhere: things like who is the best neurologist in a certain area, or tips and tricks people have used for managing certain challenges.

“The myositis Facebook site is wonderful, because people ask questions, and a lot of times it’s a question I have too,” Linda says. “And then in the MG group, we love it when we are able to go to the meetings. They’re always interesting, with new speakers and new ideas. It’s also nice getting to know other members who are in the same situation as we are.”

While living with conditions they know can cause significant health concerns, Linda and Bill remain upbeat.

“My mother was a wonderful example for me how to live my life with this disease,” Linda says. “You just roll with it and try to figure out another way of accomplishing your tasks.”

Categories
Advocacy Patient communities Patient stories

Paying It Forward

Ten years ago, Karon Faught started slurring her words and having trouble lifting her arms to blow dry her hair. She was only in her thirties, but some months later while at work, she couldn’t find the right words she wanted to say. She thought she was having a stroke. An MRI disproved this possibility, but it did nothing to alleviate the overwhelming fear she and her husband Jerry felt about what was causing these symptoms.

When she went to her neurologist, he had a list of conditions he wanted to test her for. Among them was not myasthenia gravis (MG).

“He said he was going to test me for MS and ALS and a couple other things,” Karon recalls. But nobody gets myasthenia gravis, the neurologist said, so I’m not even going to test for that.

Ironically, MG was the thing Karon’s primary care provider specifically suggested she be tested for. Also ironically, while she was in the office, the neurologist agreed to give Karon a magnesium infusion, a treatment she’d had before to treat her chronic migraine headaches.

What Karon and Jerry didn’t know at the time was that magnesium is one of a laundry list of drugs that makes myasthenia symptoms worse. That infusion persuaded the neurologist to do the blood test, because there in his office, Karon lost her ability to speak and move as a result of it. Three weeks later, the tests came back positive for anti-acetylcholine receptor antibody-positive MG (AChR MG).

This was just the beginning of a harrowing ride for Karon and Jerry, one they are grateful to the MG community in their home state of Texas for helping them survive.

“Ten years ago, there was really no good information about MG,” Jerry says. “Even at the top hospital in the region, one of the only hospitals in the country that was doing an MG clinical trial, people didn’t understand it. Their nurses were still giving IV Benadryl to MG patients, and their medical school was still teaching that kids couldn’t get MG. When we came into this, the best knowledge base was those that came before us.”

So when Karon was facing surgery to remove her thymus (a procedure that is often part of treating MG), she wanted to talk with others who had the disease and could help her understand what to expect from this major chest surgery. She and Jerry attended their first Myasthenia Gravis Foundation of America (MGFA) national conference that year and connected with the only MG support group in Texas, which was in Lubbock, about 300 miles from their home north of Dallas.

The group was led by Coleen Shinn. She and others from the group took the couple under their wing. And when Karon was in the hospital after surgery, they were a lifeline for Jerry who guarded his wife’s treatment from healthcare professionals who repeatedly tried to treat Karon with medications on that laundry list of drugs that make MG worse.

“After my surgery, Jerry was on the phone with Coleen almost 24/7, asking her questions and gathering information,” Karon says. “When the doctors wanted to give me a medicine, he would call Coleen and say, is this okay? And she would say yes or no. A lot of times it was no, don’t give her that medication, because she’ll go into crisis.”

Jerry chokes up when he remembers this time. “I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Coleen and Marvin and Lowell and Margaret and all the people in Lubbock who took us in. There’s no way I can explain how they helped us. There are just no words that can describe it.”

After Karon’s surgery, she and Jerry continued to attend support group meetings in Lubbock. They needed that companionship and the knowledge of others who lived with MG. But it was a five-hour trek, and they knew there had to be other MG patients closer to home. So armed with contacts they met at their second MGFA conference, they pulled together a support group in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

Since then, the couple has created a nonprofit support network, MG Texas, whose only mission is to empower people by sharing knowledge about this rare neuromuscular disease. The organization now supports honorary Texans all over the world, and through the work of many others, there are now support groups in Dallas, Lubbock, Austin, San Antonio, Corpus Christi, San Angelo, and Beaumont. And because they live only 20 miles from the Oklahoma border, it was easy enough to restart the groups in Oklahoma City and Tulsa after the MGFA reorganization. They’ve also started, MGKids.com, the only nationwide MG support organization for children with MG.

“There are so many fears when a person comes into this,” Jerry says. “If we can alleviate any one of those fears to help them get to the next stage of the healing cycle, then that’s really what drives us.”

This support group network has also been part of the healing cycle for Karon and Jerry.

“The support group has helped us get through this,” Karon says. “Helping other people has helped us heal from what we’ve lost. Having a diagnosis like MG, you have to look at life a little bit differently and make some adjustments. But when you help other people, you don’t think so much about what you’re going through.”

“I’ll be honest with you, at the beginning, I was angry, Jerry says. “And the only way to battle this disease that we can’t fight is to educate so that it doesn’t hurt others. That was the why we started the support group in Dallas. The bonus was, if we get more people in the group, it will help us.”

But healing the fear and anger is only a part of Jerry’s motivation.

“There’s a debt we have to pay forward,” Jerry says. “We’re going to have it for a long time. And that’s really what drives me.”