The Nonsense of Sensitivity

If you've read my previous post about my diagnosis, you'll know that it was a pretty long and bumpy road. For this reason, by the time the medical professionals had recognised I really was truly ill with M.E, I was already pretty familiar with the multitude of symptoms it entails. I'd had the fatigue, the pain and the susceptibility to infection, but what I wasn't prepared for was the increased sensitivity I would experience as my condition worsened. 

I don't mean sensitivity of the emotional kind- I didn't suddenly start blubbering at soppy films or weeping at tales of reunited families (I'm not much of crier you see); I mean sensitivity to all manner of external stimuli. I'm not gonna lie to you, it kinda sucks. It really is one of the symptoms I hate the most, because it stops me from doing many of the things I love to do.

This sensitivity comes in a variety of guises, and while its most likely to hit when I'm feeling my worst, it also likes to make a surprise appearance every now and then, much to my dismay. To give you a better idea of what I'm talking about, here's a few examples of the ways this most unexpected of symptoms affects me in my everyday life:

1. Light Sensitivity:  Ok, so perhaps this one's fairly predictable. Just as a bad headache can cause the eyes to hurt and wish for darkness, so can M.E. I have my phone and laptop screens permanently set at the lowest brightness and for days when life is just too much, I've got an eye-mask to blackout any intrusive specks of light. 

2. Pain sensitivity: Because as if it's not bad enough that your achey and painy inside your body, you have to be extra sensitive to external pain too. Even the merest pinch or scratch can be ten times more painful when I'm having a bad day.

3. Noise Sensitivity: I thought I'd been lucky enough to escape this one, that was until the relentless drilling, hammering and crashing of the next-door neighbours extension began last week. The constant noise is completely and utterly draining me. It's a nightmare.

4. Heat Sensitivity: While yes, I've always your typical Brit abroad lobster when it comes to my Summer holidays, I've always loved the sun. Baking for hours and hours in the Mediterranean sun with a good book and a pool nearby was always my idea of holiday heaven. Then, the unthinkable happened, an M.E flare up last year made me ultra sensitive to heat- just in time for my summer holidays. Unfortunately it would appear I'm now a sweaty betty, destined for life in the shade.

5. Alcohol Sensitivity: I've just completed three years at uni, so as you can imagine, this one's really not ideal. When my occupational therapist asked how my hangovers were, I though she was just being curious. However she proceeded to enlighten me on the not-so-joyous effects of alcohol for an M.E patient like myself. Apparently, it's very common within our little population for hangovers not to consist of you typical headache and queasiness, but of a horrid, heavy toxic feeling in the stomach. Like our body's really just can't. They just can't do it. My hangover-free days are more than over. I am in no way exaggerating when I say that on the rare occasion I do drink, even a glass or two of wine, I feel like death has befallen me. It's really that bad.

Mastering the art of a sober night out

Shady lady

Us chronic illness sufferers are just like snowflakes- we're all affected in different ways. These are just the ways sensory sensitivity affects me, and you may be very similar or entirely different, you may have even escaped sensitivity altogether! However you're affected, these little things can be baffling and essentially, life changing. But as always, I'm trying to find the positives in all this nonsense- at least I'm not the girl on the floor with her knickers on display by the end of the night, I'll leave that to my non alcohol sensitive friends.

Alice

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