Yes. That’s right. Between the first and second severe allergic reaction, my right foot perplexingly started to misbehave. Just like that. On the day it happened I was working a news shift in an office. “Careful there,” my editor said as I stumbled on my way to the printer. I laughed. “I’ve got really bad pins and needles in my right foot. It must have just been the way I was sitting,” I casually responded.
Now I’m not a hypochondriac and figured there must be some reasonable explanation. Being quite a sporty person, I’m used to injuries, pulled muscles and have quite a high pain threshold. I simply assumed my legs had been crossed or held in an uncomfortable position for too long and figured the numbness would subside. I was wrong. Five hours later my lower leg was still dead, I had no feeling in my toes. I thought things would improve by the next morning but my foot began to slap uncontrollably when I walked. So I booked an appointment to see a private physio.
My foot began to slap uncontrollably when I walked
“I don’t want to alarm you but think you need to book a GP appointment if things don’t improve,” she said after much poking, prodding, massaging and ultra-sounding. One week after the symptoms flared up, I was lying on the couch in front of my doctor who was unusually quiet as he examined me. I squirmed as my left foot and ankle were pushed, pulled and scored with a weird tool that resembled a knitting needle. Being hugely ticklish, the sensations weren’t that pleasant. He repeated the process on my right foot and ankle. “How does that feel?” he enquired. “I’ve no idea,” I replied, unable to feel a thing.
My left foot and ankle were pushed, pulled and scored with a weird tool that resembled a knitting needle
He immediately called a neurologist (brain specialist). The consultant on the end of the phone agreed to see me. My mum drove me to the hospital, but the A&E receptionist refused to accept the letter from my GP and I was told I’d have to wait in the emergency department. Many hours later I saw a doctor who then went to find the neurologist. He’d since gone home. Hours later I was x-rayed for a broken ankle – it wasn’t – before being told that I’d need to book another appointment with the GP who would refer me to the neurologist. Back to square one. I felt utterly deflated.
Not only was my foot playing up, I’d also begun to experience numbness on the left side of my face and my fingers felt as though they weren’t working properly. Alarmingly, I’d also begun dropping things without realising when distracted or in conversation. Things were really beginning to get me down. I’d always been an optimistic, glass half full person but was struggling to see the silver lining in all of this. My mind went into overdrive. My beloved aunt and cousin had both died from brain tumours at a young age. Was this the fate that awaited me?
I experienced numbness on the left side of my face and my fingers felt as though they weren’t working properly
Despite knowing better, I turned to Google for clues. I shouldn’t have. I scared myself silly. At the same time, my tongue swelling episodes had ramped up phenomenally. Eventually, I saw a neurologist and a diagnosis of Foot Drop – paralysis/weakness in the foot – came. Again there was no concrete explanation for it. MRI scans of my brain were – thankfully clear – but I’d still need to be monitored.
Over on the allergy side of things my immunologist had ruled out anaphylaxis and ruled in idiopathic angioedema – unexplained deep tissue swelling. This occurs when the body mistakenly detects a harmless substance, such as a certain food, for something dangerous triggering the release of histamine to fight the threat. The protocol was to manage the symptoms in the same way one would for anaphylaxis because every reaction affected my airway.
I was also in the process of selling my house – one of the most stressful things you can do
On top of this, I was dealing with repeated bouts of episcleritis which caused excruciating pain and light sensitivity in my left eye. Having developed an allergy to ibuprofen – a painkiller I’d always been able to tolerate – I was back and forth to the eye specialist who prescribed steroids. Oh, and I was also in the process of selling my house – one of the most stressful things you can do.
Ironically, exercise – the one thing I’d always rely on to clear my head during stressful periods – was no longer an option. I was forced to suspend my gym and tennis memberships. I stopped socialising. And because I wasn’t well enough to do first-person fitness-based newspaper commissions, I missed out on work. I felt lost, frightened and trapped in a downward spiral. I didn’t know who I was anymore.
So what happened next? Read here.