My heart hurts again. Or the chest lining. Or something close by. I was diagnosed with sinus arrhythmia in 2015. Caused by the quinolone toxicity. These feelings are the same. Sharp scratching and jabbing pains. I hate it. I hate this toxic journey. I would gladly die today. An honourable death.
I’ve been doing ok. Struggling. Surviving. I’m four years since my last post here. Four years older. I have tried every tool at my disposal to try to survive Fluoroquinolones Toxicity. Diet. Supplements. Detox. Rest. Self-protection mechanisms. I have fought through so much adversity. My boy is growing up. He’s smart. Talented. Funny. My love for him has shaped my battles. But there is no victory. There most likely never will be a victory. There have been crashes. Usually infection, medication, Then crash. This current one is one of the worst, no, the worst in years. I caught the flu. It crushed me. I took painkillers. My CNS is now all over the shop. Dizziness. Tiredness. Disassociation. Blurred vision, nausea, ennui, suicidal ideation. Headaches. I’m back in clingin on mode. Every second of every day. Just clinging on for dear life. Hoping in will pass. Please pass. I’m not as used to this as I once was.
Immunity. My understanding is that that broad spectrum antibiotics do not discriminate. They kill all good guys as well as bad guys. Not just in the gut. But in every nook and passageway where good guys keep a watchful eye for invaders: nose, sinuses, throat, airways, urinary tract, ears. Without the good guys the mucosa and the SigA antibody film that sits on that is open to assault. After a tooth infection and extraction, I now have a sinus infection and chest infection, which combined are the worst URTI I have ever had. In the fifth week now. The stuff that comes out of my sinuses should be in a horror movie. Green and orange gunge in handfuls. I am constantly blocked. Coughing bouts that can go on for hours. Brain fog, Dizziness because my ears are affected. It is a horrible sticky nightmare of snot and suffering. I feel like somebody poured superglue into my ears. I just do not understand a drug that cures one thing and gives you several more serious things as a parting gift. The logic of modern medicine. Unless you accept the conspiracy theories, that big pharma gives us pills to keep us alive but also to keep us needing more pills.
Anybody who knows me knows my Love for Cormac McCarthy. I have read the Road several times. It is an absolute unique and stunning novel. To understand the meaning of the work, I had to become a dad. Then I had to suffer. I had to walk through a poisoned landscape, fighting every inch to get to a place where I know there will probably be no rainbow. Like the Man, I have to believe, because of my son. I have to keep on going until I draw my final breath. There are no other options. I live or I die fighting. Simple as that. So when the weight sits on my shoulders and pins me down, I think of the Man. I think of him pushing that trolley, fighting off the cannibals. I think of the beach at the end of the Road. And I believe that things will grow there. That there will be sunshine. That the toxic clouds will clear. I believe.
The levofloxin attacks the nervous system anywhere where there are nerves. My teeth have really suffered. At first it was short random jabbing pain in all quadrants. Then it settled to one longer pain on biting in the upper left, second back molar. It came and went. But each time it returned it was worse. By Friday 6th September it made eating impossible. I went to bed and woke up at 1am in agony. I can’t use painkillers because my body cannot process them, but I took a little baby Calpol in desperation. In the morning after, 3 hours fitful sleep, I went to the local dentist. I have used them before in emergencies, but they are not the best. My normal holistic dentist, yes, such a thing exists, is not available at weekends. The dentist, who I know to be a mercury amalgam illness denier, and who has a discernible tremor in his hands, classic mercy toxicity symptom, took out the existing filling, cleaned out the tooth, and put a temporary in. The pain subsided from a ten to a two. But the anaesthetic, whatever it was just blew me apart. I just felt super toxic all over again. Twitching, tremors, numb feet and hands. Ill. The worst was it brought back the anxiety and the depression. By the time I got home I was crying my eyes out. Saying I just wanted it to end. Really, I just wanted to die I felt so low. But I would not be beaten down. I will not let it rob me of my life. We had a dinner appointment at friends. Though I felt as bad as I have ever felt, as completely ill, I drove my guys there, and stayed fir three hours. I managed to eat and make conversation. How, I do not know. On the Sunday, I woke up and my anxiety and depression were off the scale. But again, I did the only thing I can do, and that is to try to live as normal. We went to the tall ships at Greenwich. We went to the swings. In the afternoon I played with Gabriel. In the evening, I poked dinner. Before bed we did Moon Story.
I think the acute phase is over. I feel like a house after a fire. Shell like. Scorched. The physical part has eased the most. There is less pain in less places. Less numbness. Les twitching. Less tingling. My mind is a little calmer too. Cataclysmic thoughts have settled. Anxiety is less prevelant. If I worry now, it us about something real and there are plenty of real things in my life to worry about. Believe me. The worst is the flatness.. Mental and physical energy has flatlined. Without this obdurate brain of mine, I would lie down and never get up. I think my adrenals have been badly hit again. But this time there are no quick steroid fixes. Steroids got me out of the hole last time. But in doing so probably created the conditions for the prostrate/UTI infection to flourish. Which brought me right back to where I started. No steroids means a long slow fix. Months minimum. Probably years. A Slow, painstaking recovery, and all the fun that entails. Mushed.veg. Water. Supplements. Crashes. False dawns. I hate it. I hate the thought if it. I truly do. But there is no choice. I just keep going to the end. Till my day comes.
For most people fluoroquinolone antibiotics don’t cause illness. Their bodies are damaged. But the damage is very soon repaired. For the unlucky they cause an illness that is brutal beyond imagination.
There are few illnesses that affect both mind and body. Fewer that affect every aspect of mind and body. That are truly systemic. Fluoroquinolone Toxicity Syndrome is one of them. It can affect any and all systems. Cardio, hepatic, nephrotic, muscular, bone neurological., mental, you name it it can disrupt and destroy.
The drug companies know this. All the side effects that victims complain about are acknowledged. But they don’t care. A certain collateral damage is acceptable to them. They use their wealth and lawyers to deal with the fall out. They buy politicians and doctors. They are so corrupt in their thinking and dealings that it is barely believable. They pay pay lipsevice to testing. They run the tests and their lackeys in NICE and the FDA. Rubber stamp their findings. Any heresy is stamped on immediately.
The really painful thing about thus us that I was so close. So near. I had had tests done in 2012, which showed I was a complete mess. Multiple DNA adducts. Impaired detoxification. Poor liver detox function. Nothing was in reference. I did what was recommended and I started to feel better. I got test results through today and then show categorically that I was getting better. Out of about 30 markers, 90 percent were better. Some a little. Some noticeably. My body was repairing. I was repairing on a cellular level. On an atomic level. Hopefully, this improvement will mean that my body will have a better chance of overcoming the FQ beating it us currently taking.
The root of my problems is simple. I cannot detox what everybody else can detox. Chemicals, metals, alcohol, medicines. It builds up in my system. Poisons me. This is most likely a genetic issue. Other people in my family have no tolerance to alcohol. I intend to find out. I am going to do the 23andMe testing for MTHFR and other detox abnormalities. Most of all I want to find out for my son. If I have the problem, then we can check him, and do what we need to protect him.
After being floxed with Levofloxin in June, my memory was sharply jolted. I was given its uglier sister, Ciprofloxin in 1998 for a UTI infection. For a week by IV, and then for two weeks orally. Thre weeks! To be honest I felt a bit off colour in the immediate aftermath. But not ill in the sense that I am now. I resumed normal life.
But thinking back now, and knowing that the side effects if these drugs do not always show up immediately, I can see that I did indeed have issues relating to fluoroquinolone poisoning. First if all I had kidney stones almost permanently. I was hospitalised twice, and had lithotripsy several times over the next ten years. I had been a symptomatic for stones for decades before this. Also, my migraines and headaches intensified, and my sleep became more erratic. Most telling though were the physical problems. At that time I was a yoga freak. I practised daily. I attended classes. My body was strong and subtle. Then my achillies went. Not snapped. But ached like hell, and felt like it was going to snap. It got to the point where I couldn’t do standing poses anymore. Then I developed frozen shoulder in my right shoulder. This was excruciating and lasted for a year. I has steroid injections and when it did not resolve I was offered surgery. The surgery for frozen shoulder very often results in arm fractures, as they simply put you under and lever and twist the shoulder until it loosens. I really did not fancy that. In the end it was an Italian osteopath of immense skill who healed me. No knives. No fractures. Yet, as soon, as the right healed the left went. Another year of pain. But thankfully I had David to work on me, and it was not as bad overall as the first episode.
I never recovered full movement in either shoulder
Reading the insert for Ciprofloxin, and talking to fellow victims now convinces me that it was a delayed reaction to the drug. The drug weakened my body. Remember I was yoga strong before this. My muscles were like iron. I could handstand, headstand, hold my body weight for extended periods. There was no reason why my body would suddenly just break down. No reason at all.
Mild depression also crept up on me after this. I became less sociable. Spent more time alone. It was not until 2004 that I would start to feel better. The year I met my wife. Meeting her was a turning point in my life. From 2004, to 2011 I was well. But then the rest is history.