Breast Implant Illness: Yeah, It's an Actual Thing.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome sucks. If you would've asked me even a few years ago about it, I would've laughed at you. I was diagnosed with Mono/Epstein Barr Virus in 2013. It's the third time I've had active EBV in my lifetime. I had it for the first time at 14 years old. Again, I was about 24 years old. Then, the third time, I was 34.

Celebrating our first GORUCK event finish.

I was burning the candle at both ends, because that's what moms do best. Two toddlers, a new house to run, a job to do, obstacle course races, a GORUCK, and back to school. Of course, I was tired and run down. Who wouldn't be? My family doctor told me it was weird I had it a third time, but to get some rest and I'd get better soon. "Weird?" That's what you want to hear from a doctor. "Rest?" Are you kidding me? I'm a mom. That word doesn't exist. I did my best though. Naps when I could. I'd even hire babysitters to watch the kids, just so I could sleep for a few hours.

Well meaning friends: "Have you had your thyroid checked?"

I took all the appropriate supplements that were supposed to help. I slept as much as possible. I didn't get better. Oh goody, an unexplained rash. "Here's some meds. Oh, you had an allergic reaction to that medicine? Weird..."

Well meaning friends: "Have you had your iron count checked? Thyroid?"

My oldest daughter feeling very cuddly that day when I
was feeling rough. She was such a little mama to me. I think
she was the most verbal about how much my illness
affected me.

More blood work. More "everything's normal, just active virus. Try to take it easy." I didn't get better.  I quit teaching bootcamps. I quit taking college classes to remove that time commitment and stress, hoping that would help boost my immune system.

Well meaning friends: "You probably have lyme disease. Thyroid checked?"

I went back to the doctor. More blood work. More "you're normal, just still some active EBV. Let's try this for your rash. Oh that medicine made your rash worse? Weird..." More immunity boosting meds or supplements. More rest. I didn't get better. I got worse. We don't know why you can't kick this.

Off to all specialists I go... The Naturopathic doctor tested me for all sorts of stuff, and did the most extensive health history of my life. She casually mentioned she wasn't a fan of silicone breast implants but didn't elaborate. She jumped into tests for food sensitivities, nutrient deficiencies, things my MD didn't test for. "Oh look! Here's a whole mess of stuff your body doesn't like! Avoid these foods, start the Myer's cocktail IV therapy to boost your immunity and come back in a month." SWEET! There's an answer AND a treatment! I followed the meal plan to a "T". I did nutrient IVs 2-3 times a week. I'd feel ok for a few days but ultimately, I didn't get better. I got even worse.

My first competition. Daily workouts and goals
kept me sane.

Well meaning friends: "Have you had your thyroid checked? Lyme? Normal? You have kids. We're all tired." I stopped discussing it with my friends. I didn't want advice or the condescending looks anymore. I knew they thought I was over exaggerating or making it up.

I chose not to get any more blood work after the next specialist talked to me like I was stupid for even coming in for an appointment. Thank you endocrinologist for talking down to me. My MD sent me because she's afraid my adrenal glands are shot. I didn't come in just for fun. Normal... All that blood work normal too... Hair is now falling out in clumps. Nails, dry and brittle. More skin issues. Joint pain everywhere.

Well meaning friends: "You know my husband's cousin's college roommate's aunt had XYZ and they got better after they saw this particular doctor. You should go see them and let them check your blood."

Normal. Thousands of dollars, and hours, spent to find out I'm "normal". Oh here's a random FB post about breast implant illness. No way. That's rare. It's gotta be ruptured. Wasn't there an MTV story several years about a girl with breast implant illness? Hmmmmm

I'm losing my mind at this point. Literally. After 4 years of worsening exhaustion, my brain fog was worsening right along with the fatigue. I felt dumb. Beyond dumb. I'd lose words in the middle of sentences. Forget the names of people I'd known for years. I started having anxiety issues. I've never been an anxious person.

My "normal" trying to stay awake and watch
my kids do anything, face.

Fatigue. Let's discuss what started as "mom tired" to a Chronic Fatigue diagnosis. The morning I walked into my MD's office, I burst into tears because of the daily, DEBILITATING fatigue. It can best be described as one of these three things. I figure almost the entire population can relate to at least one:

1. Waking up from anesthesia. That moment you can hear the world around you but in no way can you do more than stare off into space, much less move your hands or make sounds with your mouth.

2. Staying awake for 48 hours then being asked to solve a trigonometry problem in 10 seconds, while a child screams "MOM" over and over again from a room you can't find.

3. Being completely submerged in wet cement from the base of your neck down, and trying to sprint.

ALL DAY, EVERY DAY.

Well meaning friends: "Have you had your thyroid checked?" In my head, "I'm going to punch you in the thyroid..."

I was finally sent to the sleep doctor because they wondered if it was a neurological thing. Even my MD was as baffled and frustrated with the blood work as I was. At that point, a typical day for me looked like this.

Graphic taken from hershashtaglife.com

*Wake up at 3:47 am. Hit snooze for 15-20 minutes. (Yes, I know that's all normal. Sit tight.)
*Stumble to shower and stand for 20 minutes until awake enough to shave. (Yes, still somewhat normal)
*Get dressed, no make up. Head to the gym.
*Get to gym with no recollection of the drive. (Still super early, could be normal for some.)
*Follow written work out in precise order otherwise, I'd have no idea what all I had already done. (Not so normal)
*Leave gym 2 hours later after a solid workout and some small talk. (Did I do all my sets? What did I lift today? I'm physically tired.) Workouts always leave me in a good mood and having spent 2+ hours "waking up", I can get my kids out of bed as a calm and happy mom.
*Wake kids at 7:15 am, get them off to school at 8:00 am. Immediately go back to bed.
*Sleep from 8:00 am until noon or 1:00 or whenever my body decides to wake up.
*Do 2 loads of laundry OR manage to go to grocery store for an hour.
*Take a power nap. Wake up cranky.
*Kids home from school. Don't sit down. Sitting down means I'm asleep/coma mode for at least an hour.
*Run kids to various activities. Fall asleep in car at practice. Fall asleep in lawn chair. Fall asleep at hair salon. Fall asleep in waiting room at dentist. Embarrassed children wake me up. You get the picture.
*Get kids in shower by 8-8:30. Maybe. Attempt to help Mike with the bed time routine, but typically couldn't.
*7:30-9:00 pm. Bed time for me.

I was sleeping 7-9 hours a night. Taking a 3-6 hour nap in the morning. Taking another 1-3 hour nap in the evening. Never feeling rested. See my previous list. I felt like that EVERY SINGLE TIME I tried to wake up. NOT NORMAL!

Well meaning friends: "Have you had your thyroid checked? Maybe you should try to eat healthier. Have you given up pop or tried Whole 30? Maybe you should drink coffee." HAVE YOU MET ME?! I haven't had pop in years, and eat healthier than most of the population. Caffeine would elevate my heart rate but not change how awake I felt. No thanks.

Show number 3. Ten days before removal.

SIDE BAR: Through all of this I chose to do another NPC competition. Plus, being a personal trainer, it was the logical next step in my personal challenges. It also went hand in hand with the few things that made me feel better. Exercise, lifting heavy was the best therapy for me. Emotionally, it was one of the few things I could still control and it made me happy. When you feel so helpless about everything else in your life, the weights are there for you. They don't bitch, they don't need, they don't take away. It's a constant amidst chaos. Somehow, physically exhausting myself was the best part of my day. It would mentally wake me up. The stress relief was immeasurable. I was a better mom and wife because of it. The days I wouldn't work out, I was a crazy, tired, cranky ball of stress. It was more than noticeable. My family didn't want to be around me. The meal plan kept me eating the right foods so I wouldn't have a reaction that would set me back. I ate the same thing every single day. It was easier for me and took that stress away. I know for some, it wouldn't. However, even a simple decision of what to have for lunch when not on a meal plan, would exhaust me.

Well meaning friends: "Have you been tested for Lyme disease? Are you anemic?"

Back to crying at the doctor. She sends me to a sleep doctor. I describe my symptoms. He looks at me, and talks to me, like I'm making it all up. Everyone thinks I'm making it up. That I'm just lazy. That I'm just whiny. My kids believed me. They're the ones that saw it up close. They're the ones that had to fend for themselves every afternoon. I always prayed that nothing serious would happen, because I wouldn't know if I could get to them in time if I was dumb enough to sit down knowing I'd fall asleep if I did. My husband believed me. He was the one that would have to pick me up out of the truck and damn near carry me into the house. I was asleep in the passenger seat if we had to drive for more than 20 minutes. I could hear him talk to me, but I couldn't move. He was the one that would lift me off the couch and carry me to bed 30 minutes after we'd start a movie. He's the one that would hold me while I slept in church and slowly start to wake me up 10 minutes before service was over so no one would see how out of it I looked. The few times anyone outside the family would see me like that, I'm sure they thought I was on drugs. As I'd wake up, I'd stare right through people. My family felt the effects right along with me. It was becoming our new normal. I was not willing to accept that.

Sleep doctor time. It went just like I said it would. Fall asleep almost instantly. Every single time they asked me to lay down. If you've never been to a sleep doctor, it's not as fun as it sounds. You sleep all night. If they determine you don't need a CPAP, you're asked to stay. The day is then filled with 5, 20 minute naps. I was not a nice person by the end. They wake you up at the 20 minute mark, if you've fallen asleep. I did. Every single time. Just like I said I would. Doctor was shocked! I wasn't making it up. My labs came back clean. He remarked that I had the cleanest labs he'd seen in a while. Wow. So, I'm actually a case of someone not in there trying to get drugs? I'm telling the truth. SHOCKING. (note sarcasm). He prescribed me modafinil. I guess it's a medicine they give to shift workers. Safe. Effective. I was on cloud 9. FINALLY, I had something that would help me. I had a diagnosis. Granted, being diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear, it was something, and I could be fixed!

Left: 2 hours before surgery
Right: exactly 24 hours later same bathroom
Was trying to hold my face the same, but I couldn't help
but smile at how much inflammation was already gone.

Wrong.

Hives. My face and neck completely peeled off from a reaction to the meds. I lost it. I'd never felt so defeated.

Which brings me to Facebook scrolling. Breast Implant Illness. Someone I actually knew in real life posting about it. That's when I finally allowed the figurative light bulb to come on. I'd received a few messages before from friends sharing blog posts about it. I dismissed it. I didn't want to believe it. Only my ND even mentioned it might be an issue. "They're totally safe" right? "All the doctors say they're safe!" "It could be the hardware in your knee." "Maybe its the mercury fillings in your teeth."

I'm not one to just let things happen to me. After 4 years, I was taking matters into my own hands. Breast implants are gone ASAP. If that doesn't work, knee hardware gone. If that doesn't work, mercury fillings out. If none of that worked, I was resigned to accept that CFS was my new normal.

Post explant competition #4.
Fake boobs were not necessary. 

This past year is a blur so I'll sum it up.
*I join FB group with THOUSANDS of women just like me.
*I believe implants could be the problem.
*I find doctor that also believes implants could be a problem.
*Suck it up and totally kick ass at my bikini competition.
*10 days later, fly to Dr Marguerite Barnett's office and get my "still look amazing" implants removed.
*Wake up next morning with inflammation gone.
*4 days later, realize fatigue is gone.
*Spend the summer with my kids AWAKE and having fun.
*Turn 39 happier and healthier than I've been in years.
*My hair has grown 4-5 inches in the last 5 months. It hadn't grown more than an inch or two over the last few years.
*Currently spend all day, every day, giving zero fucks about what my boobs look like. I'm currently between a 34 B and C. I was a 34 DD with the implants. They aren't shriveled or deformed. I'm almost 40 years old. I have two kids. I don't expect them to look like a 19 year old's. That's just weird anyway. My husband thinks they're pretty cute just the way they are.

*******

Post explant. Still adorable.

My measurable symptoms started 3 years after I had them implanted. They were Mentor Smooth Silicone placed under the muscle. My health continued to decline for the following 4 years. My explanting doctor showed them to me at my post op appointment. They were not ruptured. The shell had stretched out and there was some rippling. So basically, the shell was deteriorating. Even if I had saline, the silicone shell was still slowly poisoning me. She thought they probably would've ruptured within a year. I wouldn't have made it to the recommended 10 year mark. As of today, I'd guess 99% of my symptoms are gone. I still have some lingering food sensitivities and a little inflammation in my rib cage.

What I've learned since my explant.

*Never take your health for granted. Big boobs aren't that great if you're bedridden.

*Your worth is not defined by the size or shape of your breasts. One of the worst comments I've heard was "but my implants are the best thing about me!" No girl. No, they're not. You are not ornamental. I promise if you ask your kids, or any one that loves you, they'll have lots of great things to tell you that have nothing to do with perky boobs.

*I'm way more content and confident with my body more now than I've ever been. Yes, even without "perfect" boobs. They aren't perfect if they're poisoning you.

*Just because you can't see how sick someone is, doesn't mean they aren't fighting a constant battle. We get pretty good at hiding how crappy we feel. Please don't be dismissive.

They are my "why". They are worth my health. They are worth being awake for. They are more important than my vanity.
They are worth learning the lesson with me, and growing up confident in who God made them.