Colostrum: A Regenerative Hormone for Arachnoiditis

By Dr. Forest Tennant, PNN Columnist

Persons with adhesive arachnoiditis (AA) and other severe painful conditions such as Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) have multiple tissues that become damaged, painful and dysfunctional.

Healing those damaged tissues and reversing the pain and neurologic impairments will require regenerative hormones. This is in contrast to other types of hormones that control inflammation (cortisone), metabolism (thyroid) or sexual functions (estradiol).

The human body makes some natural regenerative hormones, and they are now available for clinical use. Our first realization of their value in treating AA was with human chorionic gonadotropin (HCG). Other regenerative hormones that can be used to treat AA include colostrum, pregnenolone, dehydroepiandrosterone (DHEA), nandrolone, and human growth hormone (HGH). We have used all of these and believe that persons with AA should use at least one of them. But our first choice is colostrum.

Colostrum is in mother’s milk produced during the first few days after birth. It contains high levels of tissue growth factors, anti-inflammatories, pain relievers, and anti-infectious agents. Its natural purpose is to allow the newborn baby to initiate growth, protect against infection, and provide pain relief from the trauma of birth.

Colostrum supplements are sold by a number of companies and are usually made from the milk of cows that have recently given birth. Colostrum is recommended for use at least 3 to 5 days a week by persons with AA or EDS, who may wish to double the labeled recommended dosage. Colostrum is non-prescription, relatively inexpensive, and has few side effects. It can be taken with opioids and other drugs.

Regenerative hormones work best when they are used simultaneously with a high protein diet, collagen or amino acid supplements, vitamin C, B12, and polypeptides.

If a person with AA is not doing well or deteriorating, we recommend adding a second regenerative hormone such as nandrolone. A significant reversal of AA symptoms may require one or more regenerative hormones.

Several times a week we get inquiries from people who have just been diagnosed with AA and are pleading for information on what to do. 

The Tennant Foundation recently published an inexpensive short handbook for persons with newly diagnosed AA that gives a step-by-step plan that can hopefully slow progression of this disease.

If you have had AA for a while and aren't doing well, you may still benefit from some of our most up-to-date knowledge and recommendations in the “Handbook for Newly Diagnosed Cases of Adhesive Arachnoiditis.”

Forest Tennant, MD, DrPH, is retired from clinical practice but continues his research on the treatment of intractable pain and arachnoiditis. This column is adapted from bulletins recently issued by the Tennant Foundations’s Arachnoiditis Research and Education Project. Readers interested in subscribing to the bulletins should click here.

The Tennant Foundation gives financial support to Pain News Network and sponsors PNN’s Patient Resources section.  

How Realistic Is a Possible Treatment for Hypermobile EDS?

By Crystal Lindell, PNN Columnist

Ever since I was diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) back in 2018, I’ve spent countless hours contemplating what my life would be like if there was an effective treatment.

Last week, Tulane University School of Medicine pushed that question to the forefront. They announced that they may have found a potential cause of hEDS and hypermobility in general. They also theorized a potential treatment.

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS) creates fragile connective tissue, which can cause a range of other symptoms including joint pain, digestive trouble, migraines and more.  

Tulane researchers proposed that a variation of the MTHFR gene that causes a deficiency of folate – the natural form of vitamin B9 – could hold the key to hypermobility and a range of connective tissue disorders such as EDS. As for treatment, they hypothesized that methylated folate — which is folate that is already processed — could be a possible treatment for the myofascial pain that’s common for hypermobile patients. They published these preliminary findings in the journal Heliyon.

First, it should be noted that none of this was based on a clinical study of patients. Rather, it’s a proposal that they believe should be researched further. As such, there’s been some valid criticism of Tulane’s announcement from the EDS community. Was it premature? Will any of this hold up in a peer-reviewed study? Or are they just giving false hope to the thousands of EDS patients desperate for some good news?

As an EDS patient myself, I understand those concerns and I very much sympathize with them. Many of us have spent too much time being dismissed by doctors, and too much money on treatments that don’t end up working.

Unfortunately, I think we’re going to have to live in the uncertainty right now. We won’t know if this is a viable option until we get a peer-reviewed study. But I am glad that they are looking into this and sharing these types of updates as the research progresses. I’d rather be informed along the way than only be told at the end of the process.

What Would a Treatment Mean for Patients?

What if their theory is correct though? Is that a good thing? I have to confess, my feelings about it are complicated.

The thing about EDS is that it’s different for everyone. As it stands, most doctors treat the symptoms, which, as mentioned above, vary widely. For me, the most debilitating one is intercostal neuralgia — which is not a type of myofascial pain. As such, it seems unlikely that methylated folate would do much to treat it.

But hey, maybe methylated folate is more of a preventative treatment? That alone would be an incredible advancement for hEDS patients.

The question is, would this treatment impact anything else? Do they know if it would only address myofascial pain? Or could it also help with other symptoms? And would that even be a good thing if it did?

EDS touches every aspect of my body and even most aspects of my personality. There’s the velvety skin everyone comments on when they shake my hand. And the constant comments about how I look for my age, which also seems to be related to how EDS impacts my skin. Would methylated folate treatment change that at all? How so? And what would I end up looking like?

The most well-known EDS symptom is probably loose joints, which means they easily overextend. For me, that’s meant a lifetime of sprained ankles and joint pain. But again, what happens if methylated folate changes that? My joints may be loose, but they’re the only ones I’ve ever known. Would stiffening them up actually help me at this point? Or would I have to re-learn how to move my own body?

What about my mind? EDS patients have higher than average rates of neurodivergence like autism and ADHD. They also have higher rates of mental health issues like depression and anxiety. Could this treatment change our brains too? Or, if not, what if they eventually find a treatment that does? Would it alter aspects of people’s personalities?

There’s also the more logistical issue of EDS as a name at all. According to the National Library of Medicine, a syndrome refers to a group of symptoms and physical findings without a direct cause. Once a cause is found, the symptoms are typically renamed as a “disease.” So, if the researchers at Tulane did find a cause, what do we have? Ehlers-Danlos disease? EDD?

One thing we do know is that EDS and hypermobility cause immeasurable pain and suffering for a lot of people, so we do need more research into potential treatments. Time will tell if folate treatment proves effective or not, but either way, I hope that there are a lot more potential treatments coming.

Crystal Lindell is a freelance writer who lives in Illinois. After five years of unexplained rib pain, Crystal was finally diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She and her fiancé have 3 cats: Princess Dee, Basil, and Goose. She enjoys the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Taylor Swift Easter eggs, and playing the daily word game Semantle. 

Researchers Find Possible Cause of Hypermobile EDS

By Crystal Lindell, PNN Columnist

Do we finally have a genetic link for hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome?

Researchers at Tulane University School of Medicine think so – and it could even point to an effective treatment that’s already available.

A variation of the MTHFR gene that causes a deficiency of folate – the natural form of vitamin B9 – could hold the key to hypermobility and a range of associated connective tissue disorders such as Ehlers-Danlos (EDS), according to preliminary findings published in the journal Heliyon.

“You’ve got millions of people that likely have this, and until now, there’s been no known cause we’ve known to treat,” said Gregory Bix, MD, director of the Tulane University Clinical Neuroscience Research Center. “It’s a big deal.”

People with the genetic variant can’t metabolize folate, which causes unmetabolized folate to accumulate in the bloodstream. The resulting folate deficiency in other parts of the body prevents key proteins from binding collagen to the extracellular matrix, which plays an important role in cell growth. This leads to more elastic connective tissue, hypermobility, and a potential cascade of associated conditions, researchers said.

The discovery could help doctors more accurately diagnose hypermobility and hypermobile EDS by looking for elevated folate levels in blood tests and the MTHFR genetic variant.

“Hypermobility is widespread and unfortunately under-recognized,” said Jacques Courseault, MD, medical director of the Tulane Fascia Institute and Treatment Center. “I’m excited about being able to treat the masses where people aren’t going their whole lives being frustrated and not getting the treatment they need."

Doctors discovered the connection between folate deficiency and the MTHFR gene by working with patients at Tulane’s Hypermobility and Ehlers-Danlos Clinic, the only clinic in the U.S. that focuses on fascia disorders. Blood tests of hypermobile patients revealed elevated levels of unmetabolized folate. Subsequent tests showed that most of those with elevated folate serum levels had the MTHFR genetic variant.

The good news is a treatment already exists. Methylated folate – folate that is already processed – is FDA-approved and widely available.

“It’s an innocuous treatment,” Bix said. “It’s not dangerous, and it’s a vitamin that can improve people’s lives. That’s the biggest thing: We know what’s going on here, and we can treat it.”

“We’ve discovered something in medicine that can help, not a small group of people, but potentially many across the world.”

— Dr. Jacques Courseault

Though more studies and clinical testing needs to be done, researchers say patients who have been treated with folate have shown improvement: less pain, less brain fog, fewer allergies and improved gastrointestinal function.

“We’ve discovered something in medicine that can help, not a small group of people, but potentially many across the world,” Courseault said. “This is real, it’s been vetted out well and clinically we’re noticing a difference.”

What Is Hypermobile EDS?

For those with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), the same conditions that create fragile connective tissue can cause a range of other symptoms that, on the surface, can seem unrelated: joint pain, chronic fatigue, thin tooth enamel, dizziness, digestive trouble and migraines, as well as psychiatric disorders such as anxiety and depression. Women with hypermobile EDS may also be at increased risk for endometriosis or uterine fibroids.

For years, researchers have struggled to find the cause of hypermobility and hypermobile EDS. Of the 13 subtypes of EDS, hypermobile EDS comprises more than 90 percent of cases. But until this study, hypermobile EDS was the only subtype without a known genetic correlate. As a result, symptoms have often been treated individually, without EDS being recognized as the likely cause.

Until now, hypermobility could only be diagnosed by the Beighton score, a somewhat controversial physical exam that involves measuring the bend of the spine, fingers and limbs. There has also been a historic lack of acceptance of hypermobility as a disorder that requires specialized treatment.

Many patients with hypermobile EDS never get a proper diagnosis. As a result, the number of people with hypermobility is unclear, though it could comprise more than half the world’s population.

“Hypermobility is not rare,” Courseault said. “Hypermobility is like a Ferrari that requires a lot of maintenance and the best synthetic oil. After knowing a patient's name and date of birth, I think it's prudent for clinicians to know which of these body types they have.”

Crystal Lindell is a freelance writer who lives in Illinois. After five years of unexplained rib pain, Crystal was finally diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. She and her fiancé have 3 cats: Princess Dee, Basil, and Goose. She enjoys the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Taylor Swift Easter eggs, and playing the daily word game Semantle. 

Hypermobility Linked to Depression and Anxiety at Young Age

By Madora Pennington, PNN Columnist

The teenage years are difficult for almost everyone, but even more so for teens with hypermobile joints, a condition known as hypermobility. Their joints have an excess range of motion, and some can literally bend their arms, legs and fingers backward.

Jess — who asked that we not use her last name — had always noticed she was extremely flexible. By the time she was a teenager, Jess had crushing fatigue and anxiety. She obsessed over her grades like a perfectionist and developed an eating disorder. Her terrible anxiety caused her to self-medicate, as she did all she could to keep up with her peers.

Eventually, it all became too much. Jess had to leave high school and finish her degree through proficiency testing. Not until age 19 was she finally diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a disease that weakens connective tissue in the joints and causes hypermobility.

Hypermobility in early life is normal. All babies and children are highly flexible, which most eventually outgrow. But for some children, hypermobility is permanent. Excessively loose joints are a feature common to many inherited disorders like EDS, wherein the body cannot make connective tissue that is stable and strong. In essence, the "glue" holding their bodies together is flawed and weak.

Extremely flexible people like Jess may be seen by their peers as having interesting or cool skills, like doing contortionist tricks or excelling in yoga. But hypermobility is a severe health problem that can lead to mental health issues.

"Hypermobility affects one in four people in the UK. Like other musculoskeletal conditions, it can have a profound and far-reaching impact on life, causing daily pain, fatigue and often disrupted sleep," says Dr. Neha Issar-Brown, Director of Research and Health Intelligence at the UK-based charity Versus Arthritis. "Previous studies in adults have shown that you are more likely to suffer from anxiety if you have hypermobility, and that the daily toll of painful symptoms can lead to depression.”

A new study in BMJ Open found a similar link in adolescents. To see if there is an association between hypermobility, anxiety and depression in late adolescence, researchers at Brighton and Sussex Medical School evaluated over 14,000 teens with joint hypermobility.

At age 14, their hypermobility was scored, which is done by measuring the degree to which various joints hyperextend or bend past the point where they should. Then, at age 18, the participants answered surveys about depression and anxiety. Pain, a common complication of hypermobility, was also taken into account. The participants' heart rates were also studied.

"Many psychiatric problems, including depression and anxiety, start before the age of 25. It is therefore important to identify the factors that may increase the risk for these disorders. Being aware of the link between hypermobility and depression and anxiety means that we can work on developing appropriate and effective treatments," said lead author Dr. Jessica Eccles, Department of Neuroscience, Brighton and Sussex Medical School.

Eccles and her colleagues found that young people with joint hypermobility were more likely to have depression and anxiety, and their psychiatric symptoms were also more severe. Joint hypermobility was more common in females than males, but it was only among males that hypermobility increased the risk for depression.

"This study has highlighted the need for more targeted and bespoke support for hypermobile teenagers, particularly girls," says Lea Milligan, CEO of the UK-based advocacy organization MK Mental Health Research. "The findings don't just show the need for support for this group of individuals, but also demonstrate the importance of research that takes a whole mind, body brain approach to health and uses longitudinal studies to improve our understanding of which demographics are at higher risk of depression and anxiety.”

Why hypermobile people suffer from more psychopathologies may be due to a dysregulation of the nervous system called dysautonomia, which is very common among those with loose joints. Their poorly regulated nervous systems cause a rapid increase in heart rate when they rise to stand, when it should remain constant. This inability of the body to maintain a smooth and consistent heart rate when posture changes has also been associated with anxiety.

Rapid heart rates and poor cardiovascular regulation also occur when someone has anxiety and depression. The higher a person's resting heart rate, the more psychological symptoms tend to follow. Those with depression tend to have different skin temperatures, breathing rates, and a lower variability in heart rate.

Complaints from UK parents with hypermobile children motivated this study. They encountered healthcare providers that were ignorant of the complications and challenges of hypermobility and dismissed their concerns. More awareness and education are needed to help these families, and this study is a step in that direction.

Madora Pennington is the author of the blog LessFlexible.com about her life with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She graduated from UC Berkeley with minors in Journalism and Disability Studies. 

Medical Gaslighting of Woman for Being of 'Childbearing Age' Goes Viral

By Madora Pennington, PNN Columnist

After seeing a neurologist earlier this month for cluster headaches, Tara Rule’s doctor walked her to the front desk. She thanked him. Then, in her car, she burst into tears. Instead of treating her pain, the doctor turned the appointment into a lecture about a hypothetical pregnancy that she didn't want. He had made her feel so horrible, she wanted to die.

“I can’t keep living in world where it is a game to them,” she said to herself.

Feeling hopeless and alone, Rule pulled out her cellphone and, tears streaming down her face, recorded a video recounting what had just happened and how she felt about it.

It is rare to actually see the raw, visceral reaction to medical gaslighting, and how it affects someone’s self-worth and mental health. Many patients leave such appointments doubting themselves, often becoming unwilling to seek medical care as the medical traumas add up.

Rule, 31, is already on disability from a lifetime of complex medical problems, including Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a connective tissue disorder.

When she realized her appointment at a Glen Falls, New York hospital was going sideways, she reached into her bag and began an audio recording with her cellphone. New York allows single party consent to recording, so she didn't need to have the doctor’s permission.

Rule was trying to keep it together, despite her intense pain from debilitating headaches. She wanted the recording so she could sort out what happened later. She wanted to make sure her PTSD from past medical trauma was not triggering her, possibly causing her to misunderstand the doctor.

TARA RULE

In the recording, Rule’s neurologist said he would not give her a certain medication to treat her headache. His reason? She could get pregnant and that particular drug — which he did not name — can cause birth defects. So he doesn't prescribe it to women of "childbearing age."

Rule pushed back, pointing out she is already on a medication for an autoimmune condition that can cause birth defects and miscarriages. And because EDS is a genetic disorder, she does not want to have a child and risk passing it on. Plus, a pregnancy could be harmful for her health.

Instead of making the appointment about Rule's pain and her need for treatment, she says the doctor asked her intrusive questions about her sex life. He disregarded the medical information she provided and patronizingly suggested she might change her mind if she were pregnant. He also insisted her sexual partner would have to consent to her being treated with the unnamed drug.

Rule posted her anguished video on TikTok, and it soon went viral. She's received countless messages from others who have been through similar encounters. While it made her feel less alone, it saddened Rule deeply to learn how many people have stories like hers. The media took notice with articles on Jezebel and in the Albany Times Union.

Severe headaches and cranio-cervical pain are commonly seen in people with EDS, an inherited failure of the body to produce strong collagen. Rule has suffered from migraines since she got a concussion at age eight. Her cluster headaches started in 2016.

“They are a whole different beast,” she told me. “The pain is indescribable. It doesn’t let up. It won’t go away.” Rule says she is a happy person who is not suicidal, but pain like that makes you wish you weren’t alive.

Rather than treat the suffering patient in front of him, the neurologist prioritized a hypothetical situation, in which Rule's birth control fails and she winds up pregnant. For him, this fantasy scenario was more important than giving her the best medical option for pain relief.

Rule complained to the hospital, which apologized and began an investigation. She also created a petition to end doctors' ability to deny treatment to women because they might get pregnant. So far, over 25,000 people have signed it, making it one of the most popular petitions on Change.org.

“As a living, breathing human being who exists, I feel it is absurd that doctors who are expected to provide the best, most effective care and treatments to their patients are able to deny effective treatments due to the potential for birth defects in patients of child bearing age who are not currently pregnant,” she wrote in the petition. 

The week after her botched meeting with the neurologist, Rule found herself in throes of horrendous head pain and took herself to urgent care. She was receiving an IV and oxygen when a group of doctors and security personnel marched into her room. She panicked, thinking of when she was told she had lesions on her brain. Were these people coming to give her bad news like that?

No, the staff was not here to provide medical services. They had come to discharge her. The hospital Rule had complained to apparently called other clinics in the area about her. The urgent care personnel accused her of livestreaming the appointment with her neurologist, which she did not. Nonetheless, they wanted her out immediately. She tried to give the desk her new insurance information as she left, but the staff had closed the window and simply stared at her.

“Shouldn’t they be putting that doctor on leave rather than track my social media and call hospitals? It’s scary,” she told PNN.

Now Rule is afraid to seek medical care. Most of the facilities in her area are owned by that hospital system. Her primary care doctor is part of it. She is not sure if any of them will see her.

“I’m on disability. I have no money. Am I going to have to move?” she wonders.

Madora Pennington is the author of the blog LessFlexible.com about her life with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She graduated from UC Berkeley with minors in Journalism and Disability Studies. 

'Bend or Break' Raises Awareness About Invisible Illness

By Madora Pennington, PNN Columnist

Even though he was just a kid, people called Mitch Martow lazy. Too exhausted to maintain friendships and falling asleep in school, his classmates thought he was strange. Specialists couldn’t find a medical reason for his complaints, and psychiatrists had no answers either. Even morphine didn’t ease the pain that tortured him in his early teens.

One day, worn out from physical suffering that was compounded by so many doctors saying his pain was a mental issue, Mitch attempted suicide. He cried when he awoke in the ICU because he had not succeeded.

This is the story told in the documentary “Bend or Break.” Based mainly on Mitch’s blog posts, the film features interviews with Mitch and his family about how his mysterious illness turned their lives upside down and how a correct diagnosis changed all of that.

Mitch has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a term for a number of similar, poorly understood disorders where the body fails to make stable collagen. As a result, the person has extreme flexibility, to the extent that their joints can bend backward.

With no obvious outward signs, many of us with EDS go decades without a diagnosis, despite frequently seeking care for its debilitating and perplexing symptoms.

MITCH MARTOW

When he was finally diagnosed correctly, Mitch’s family was troubled because EDS is under-researched and lacks effective treatments. For Mitch, his diagnosis made him happy: he was not crazy and could find others like him, which meant everything. It was the end of isolation.

To tell the story, Bend or Break showcases a young contortionist and dancer, Toria Summerville. Toria also has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, so she is capable of astounding feats of flexibility. Interspersed with the interview segments are Toria’s beautifully choreographed dances that express the emotionality of the Martow family’s experience.

‘I Felt Very Alone’

Toria was 19 when she participated in the documentary, but her performance has the maturity and depth of someone much older. From childhood, she always knew she was different but didn’t know why. With no understanding of what was wrong, it was up to her to get by and cope with unacknowledged and unaddressed symptoms.

When she was 5 or 6 years old, Toria would be awake all night, crying in pain. Doctors said it was growing pains. When she was in the 6th grade, she was put on medication for anxiety and depression. Doctors assumed she had an eating disorder, but she was allergic to many foods, a common problem with EDS.

“I felt very alone growing up and very confused with myself. I knew something was going on, but I didn’t know what,” Talia says.

She struggled with brain fog and fatigue. Her differences attracted comments from other kids, which felt like bullying. In dance class, others would laugh at her inability to control her superhuman flexibility.

Toria was often getting injured with dislocating joints and easy bruising. Concerned guidance counselors would ask if anyone was abusing her. Well-meaning adults put her in a peer support group, but she could not relate to the other kids. There, therapists offered helpful tools, but they were not what Toria needed, so it felt even more isolating.

At a performing arts high school, Toria found understanding. Her circus coach instinctively understood her and took her under his wing. “We worked on abilities that my body could do,” she says.

For Bend or Break, Toria dedicated herself to understanding and demonstrating what the Martow family experienced, a process that was emotionally challenging, not only because of what Mitch went through but because much of it hit close to home. She walked a fine line.

“I had to be sensitive that it was Mitch’s story, not mine. I had to be in tune with all the milestones he was going through and portray that with my movements and facial expressions,” she explained.

In one sequence, she dances in a straitjacket, an idea she came up with from the feeling of being trapped by so many misdiagnoses herself.

Bend or Break concludes with interviews of others with EDS. Like Mitch, they look perfectly healthy. No one would guess how debilitating their EDS problems are. The documentary drives home the difficulty of having an invisible illness — one not indicated by obvious signs of impairment. People with invisible illnesses and disabilities have a hard time getting believed.

Toria hopes Bend or Break will spread awareness about EDS to the general population and medical professionals in every field. Had she been diagnosed correctly at an earlier age, Toria could have avoided many injuries and gotten better help in school.

“We need to cut back the time to get a diagnosis. My life would have been a lot easier if I had known about EDS sooner,” she says.

Mitch has seen firsthand the positive effects Bend or Break is having. Medical doctors have thanked him for the film because it helped them understand patients with EDS or other invisible illnesses. He’s also spoken to psychology students who have watched the film and is hopeful that when they start working as mental health professionals, they’ll be cautious about insisting that a patient’s chronic pain is psychosomatic.

The film encourages healthcare providers to be careful with diagnoses like "conversion disorder," where a symptom is assumed to be mental because no physical cause can be found. Being treated that way nearly destroyed Mitch’s life. “I tried to use suicide to escape from it,” he says.

Madora Pennington is the author of the blog LessFlexible.com about her life with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She graduated from UC Berkeley with minors in Journalism and Disability Studies. 

Why Antibiotics Can Lead to a C. Diff Infection

By Madora Pennington, PNN Columnist

Got antibiotics? Then you may be on your way to a dangerous and potentially deadly infection. When antibiotics alter the balance of intestinal flora, a bacteria that causes diarrhea and inflammation of the colon -- clostridioides difficile -- can take over and result in a C. diff infection.

That is what happened to Kristy Collins. It took two rounds of antibiotics to clear up her severe ear and sinus infection. A few days later, a lunchtime salad left Kristy with a strangely upset stomach. She thought it was nothing more than a bit of food poisoning, but soon she was having malodorous belches and the foulest smelling diarrhea. She also became severely dehydrated.

At first, her doctor suspected a stomach virus. But when her stomach troubles didn’t relent, a stool test revealed that Kristy had C. diff.  Luckily, she was diagnosed and treated within a few days.

Because she has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), an inherited chronic illness, Kristy is a seasoned patient with a medical team in place. But having EDS also makes her more like to get C. diff. Thus far, she has had 19 surgeries for EDS-related problems. Most surgical procedures require a round of antibiotics to prevent infection and more if an infection occurs after surgery.

After her bout with C. diff, Kristy needed another surgery. She and her doctors were very concerned about a possible C. diff recurrence, as about 1 in 5 patients will get another infection. Kristy’s doctors tested her after surgery to ensure it had not returned.

Kristy worries whenever she needs antibiotics and questions her doctors if they are truly necessary. She already follows a very healthy diet, which helps manage her chronic illness and suspects this may be part of why she has not had a C. diff recurrence. She also follows her doctors’ advice.

“It was the first time doctors told me to take probiotics,” Kristy says, which she did while taking antibiotics. Probiotics are living microorganisms that enhance intestinal health. They are found in fermented food like yogurt and sauerkraut or made into supplements.

Antibiotics tend to alter that flora in the colon, creating an environment where C diff can flourish. Many people have immune systems that can handle a C. diff infection without symptoms, but others get very ill with watery diarrhea that may contain blood or mucus, or cause nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, abdominal pain, and bloating. At its worst, C. diff can cause a loss of blood circulation, sepsis, perforated bowel, or swelling so severe it shuts down the colon.

It is not just antibiotics that can cause a C. diff infection. Other possibilities are chemotherapy treatment, proton pump inhibitor medications (usually used to treat acid reflux), kidney or liver disease, malnutrition, or simply being an older person. C. diff infects approximately half a million Americans annually, according to the CDC. 

C. diff can also be fatal. In the U.S., nearly 30,000 people die every year from a C. diff infection. Diagnosis is usually made by testing a stool sample. It is treated with antibiotics, monoclonal antibodies, or, in severe cases, surgery.

How to Prevent C. Diff

Good hygiene practices can help prevent its spread. For C. diff, hand washing with soap and water is more effective than using alcohol-based hand sanitizers. It is also essential to limit the use of antibiotics to situations when they are truly necessary, to avoid disrupting the balance of bacteria in the colon. Many doctors recommend repopulating the beneficial bacteria with probiotic supplementation during or after antibiotic treatment.

Recovering from a C. diff infection can be mysterious as well as complicated. Many patients are not advised on how or what to eat or drink. Food can seem like the enemy, and meals can feel traumatizing.

To address this unmet need, the Peggy Lillis Foundation, a non-profit advocacy organization created in honor of a beloved kindergarten teacher whose life was taken suddenly by C. diff, recently published a nutrition and lifestyle guide.

 “This guide begins to address the dearth of information by combining medical expertise, dietary guidance, and first-hand knowledge from C. diff survivors,” says Executive Director Christian John Lillis.

The guide is sponsored by probiotic manufacturer Bio-K Plus and put together by the PLF’s Scientific Advisory Council. It covers tips on managing the acute phase of a C. diff infection, preventing a recurrence, improving gut health, dealing with the emotional implications of C. diff, and recipes. It is available to download free by clicking here.

Madora Pennington is the author of the blog LessFlexible.com about her life with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. She graduated from UC Berkeley with minors in Journalism and Disability Studies. 

What’s Missing in ‘Elvis’ Movie: The King’s Chronic Illness

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

There’s a scene towards the end of the new “Elvis” movie when you know the end is coming soon. Presley, as depicted by actor Austin Butler, collapses in a hallway minutes before being scheduled to take the stage at the International Hotel in Las Vegas.

Instead of rushing an unconscious Elvis to a hospital, manager Tom Parker --- played by a surprisingly villainous Tom Hanks -- declares that the show must go on and summons “Dr. Nick” to make it right. After a quick injection of stimulant drugs, Elvis recovers just enough to sing, dance and entertain an adoring crowd in a packed showroom.   

That one scene sums up how the real Elvis Presley spent his final years before dying of an apparent heart attack in 1977 at the young age of 42. Popping pills. Slurring his words. Deeply depressed. And driven to continue performing by “Colonel” Parker and others.

“They really tried to push Elvis beyond his capacity in the last few years of his life. He was disabled,” says Dr. Forest Tennant, a retired physician and pain management expert who is one of the last people alive to be intimately familiar with Elvis’ drug use and medical problems.

In 1981, Tennant was hired by an attorney for Dr. George Nichopoulos (Dr. Nick), who faced criminal charges in Presley’s death. Tennant reviewed the autopsy report, medical records and a confidential 161-page private investigation, and testified as a defense witness for Nichopoulos, who would be acquitted of charges of overprescribing drugs.

After the trial, Tennant remained curious about Elvis’ medical problems and continued his research while treating people with intractable pain. The knowledge and experience Tennant gained in the last 50 years led to his recent book, appropriately titled “The Strange Medical Saga of Elvis Presley.”  

Elvis did indeed suffer from heart problems aggravated by an excessive use of drugs, but Tennant believes the ultimate cause of his death was a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS), a major cause of intractable pain and other chronic health problems.

A diagnostic screening tool for EDS didn’t exist when Elvis was alive and few physicians were even aware of the condition. But Tennant thinks Presley had all the symptoms of EDS, including an unusual degree of flexibility and double jointness that allowed him to swing his hips and gyrate wildly. Those sexy dance moves helped make Elvis famous, but they also foretold what lay in store for him.

“EDS is a genetic connective tissue collagen disorder, and what that means is that you are genetically predetermined to have your collagen in certain tissues either disappear or deteriorate or become defective, and to put it bluntly, you can have a rectal problem and an eye problem at the same time due to the same cause because your collagen is deteriorating in these tissues,” Tennant told my colleague Donna Gregory Burch in a 2021 interview. “If you get a severe case like Elvis Presley, your life is going to be very miserable, and you're going to die young unless you get vigorous treatments.”      

The day before he died, a dentist gave Presley codeine for an aching tooth, not realizing how sick he was or that codeine could cause his heart to stop. Elvis collapsed in the bathroom 24 hours later. His sudden death led to rumors that he died from an overdose or even a horrible case of constipation. The truth is more complex.

“Nothing happened to Elvis Presley that we don't have a good logical, scientific explanation for now. But certainly back in those days we didn't,” Tennant explained. “Elvis Presley had multiple diseases. He was terribly ill, and he died accidentally in some ways with a dentist giving him codeine for his bad tooth, and his bad teeth were also part of the same disease that gave him a bad colon and a bad eye and a bad liver. They were all connected.

“He had all these metabolic defects due to his genetics, and so the codeine built up in his system. He had this terrible heart, so he died suddenly, within seconds, as he was trying to sit on the commode.”

Fortunately, the “Elvis” movie spares us any final scenes like that – ending instead with actual clips from one of Presley’s last concerts. They show a tired and very sick man, aged beyond his years and sweating profusely. But he still sang like “The King.”

All proceeds from sales of “The Strange Medical Saga of Elvis Presley” go the Tennant Foundation, which gives financial support to Pain News Network and sponsors PNN’s Patient Resources section.

The Inside Story of Elvis Presley’s Death

By Donna Gregory Burch

When Elvis Presley first hit the music scene during the 1950s, he was both beloved and vilified for the hip-thrusting, leg-shaking and gyrating that changed the art form of musical performance forever.

But what many don’t realize is that Presley’s ability to do those iconic dance moves came with a cost and may have actually contributed to his sudden death in 1977 at the age of 42.

In a new book entitled “The Strange Medical Saga of Elvis Presley,” Dr. Forest Tennant, a retired physician who specialized in pain medicine and addiction treatment, explores the fascinating medical history of Elvis.

Turns out, it wasn’t all those peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches that killed him. But what did?

I recently had a chance to interview Tennant about his latest book and what really caused Elvis’ death.  

Donna Gregory Burch: When I think about Elvis’ death, I recall the rumors that he died while taking a bowel movement on the toilet and that his autopsy revealed a very full colon. Are either of those stories actually true?

Forest Tennant: Yes, they are. We knew about these events [surrounding his death], but we had no scientific or medical explanation as to why they occurred. Fifty years after he dies, we finally have a scientific explanation as to why he died like he did.

What happened to him and why he died so suddenly in the bathroom was … a medical controversy that … ended up in a criminal trial and with all kinds of emotionalism.

Nothing happened to Elvis Presley that we don't have a good logical, scientific explanation for now. But certainly back in those days we didn't.  

You were involved in a court proceeding about Elvis’ death. Could you tell me about that and what role you served during the lawsuit?

Well, what happened was that because he died suddenly and because the pathologists couldn't agree on why he died, and because Elvis was found to be abusing drugs as well as being prescribed a lot of drugs, a criminal trial was brought against his physician (Dr. George Nichopoulos).

The attorney that decided to defend (Nichopoulos) was a man by the name of James Neal, who was a federal prosecutor who prosecuted Jimmy Hoffa and the offenders in the Watergate scandal, and so he was the nation's top attorney at that time. He investigated the case and found out that the doctor that treated Elvis Presley was not a criminal at all and was doing his best to help him.

Some dozen physicians at the Baptist hospital in Memphis saw Elvis Presley, but nobody knew what was the matter with him. They knew he had some kind of mysterious, systemic disease, which is a disease that can affect multiple organs at the same time.

He was a baffling medical case for the doctors in Memphis at that time, and we didn't know what he had up until about three or four years ago. We did not understand the genetic collagen connective tissue disorders, now usually referred to by doctors as Ehlers Danlos syndrome (EDS). Nobody understood that his glaucoma and his colon [issues] were connected [due to EDS]. They knew it was connected somehow but they didn't have an explanation for it at that time.

What do we know today about why Elvis died that we could not explain back when he actually passed away?

He had a severe heart problem.

Elvis’ heart problem was directly tied to his diet, right? I mean he was well-known for his fat and sugar-laden diet.

Yes, his diet was part of it, but his autoimmunity also affected his heart.

But the major controversy of the day is one that's maybe a little hard for the public to understand. A drug overdose in 1977 was said to only occur if the lungs filled up with fluid. He had no fluid in his lungs, so the only thing that he had at his autopsy of any significance was a huge heart. And so the pathologist and the county medical examiner said he had to have died of a heart attack because his heart was so bad.

The catch was that he had about 11 drugs in his bloodstream. The highest level was codeine, so there became a dispute among the doctors. A certain group of pathologists who were highly qualified said he died of a heart problem. Another group of highly qualified physicians who were called forensic pathologists said no, he died of his drugs. Up until about two or three or four years ago, the argument was still going on.

Now, I hate to say thanks to the opioid crisis, but because of the overdose deaths that have occurred in recent years, a lot of studies have been done, and enzymes have been discovered, and metabolism has been discovered showing that drugs like codeine can cause a certain heart stoppage without having pulmonary edema (fluid filling the lungs].

It turns out that 24 hours before he died, a dentist gave him codeine. He was already thought to be allergic to it anyway, and that was because he had all these metabolic defects due to his genetics, and so the codeine built up in his system. He had this terrible heart, so he died suddenly, within seconds, as he was trying to sit on the commode. He fell forward.

There is a forensic pathologist, the best one of the day, called Dr. Joseph Davis, and in about 1997, he described exactly, second by second, what happened to Elvis in the bathroom. But the cause is pretty clear: He took the codeine, and it caused a cardiac arrhythmia. If he had a good heart, he might have survived, but he had a bad heart.

So, it’s really a combination. You had these two sides of doctors arguing – they even ended up in a criminal trial – but it turns out that they were both right. It was a combination of a terrible heart and a drug that causes cardiac arrhythmia, and that's why he died with no pulmonary edema.

So many times in the medical community, we always look for that one cause, right? His case is very illustrative. Because the body is so complex, it's often multiple factors that are causing health issues.

Elvis Presley had multiple diseases. He was terribly ill, and he died accidentally in some ways with a dentist giving him codeine for his bad tooth, and his bad teeth were also part of the same disease that gave him a bad colon and a bad eye and a bad liver. They were all connected.

EDS is what connects all of those health problems, correct?

Yes, scientifically, EDS is a genetic connective tissue collagen disorder, and what that means is that you are genetically predetermined to have your collagen in certain tissues either disappear or deteriorate or become defective, and to put it bluntly, you can have a rectal problem and an eye problem at the same time due to the same cause because your collagen is deteriorating in these tissues, and you were programmed to develop this when you are born. It is a major cause of the intractable pain syndrome.

Now some of the diseases are very mild. You have a little double jointedness, and your skin is a little lax, and you might develop some arthritis, but you become a good gymnast in the Olympics or you become a good football player in some of the mild cases. But if you get a severe case like Elvis Presley, your life is going to be very miserable, and you're going to die young unless you get vigorous treatments, which are being developed right now.

I don't think EDS was even recognized back when Elvis was living, was it? It wasn't even a known diagnosis. Not many people even know about it today.

No, Dr. Peter Beighton didn't even come up with the (diagnostic screening tool for EDS) until long after Elvis Presley died.

As amazing as it may seem, I'm the only person in the United States who had the autopsies of both Elvis Presley and [aviator and businessman] Howard Hughes and their medical records, and was able to interview their physicians who took care of them. So I felt obligated to put these into books. I don't care whether anybody buys the books or not, but I do think these cases are marvelous cases, and I think these are icons and heroes of the last century, and somebody needed to write it down, and I'm the only one who had the material.

And you know something? For 50 years nobody cared that I had them. Maybe they still don't, but I've got them in the books now, so it'll be recorded for posterity, and that was my goal … to make sure that history is recorded.

Was EDS responsible for the way Elvis was able to move and dance?

Yes, we've got some pictures in the book, and I think we put the question in there. Can you hold these positions and sing and hold a microphone at the same time? And of course, [most people] can't. [EDS was] why he was able to do those things.

But on the other hand, we [recently had] the Olympics, and some of those Olympic [athletes] couldn't possibly do this if they didn't have these hypermobile joints. Whether they will develop the disease in later life is unknown.

When you're young, and you have these joints that are hyperextended, you can do things that other people can't do.

In your recent book about Howard Hughes’ medical issues, you had written about how Hughes was still very successful in life despite the fact he was in an enormous amount of chronic pain due to his medical conditions. Elvis was in the same predicament, wasn’t he?

Very much so, and I'm hoping that people who have intractable pain syndrome, who have EDS, complex regional pain syndrome, autoimmune diseases and traumatic brain injuries, read these books or at least hear about the books, and get some hope and realize that here are two men who did great things in very disparate fields but were terribly ill. I've had many, many patients who read about Howard Hughes tell me that he was an inspiration to them.

Elvis was in a great deal of chronic pain as a result of his EDS. Is that what led to his addiction to opioids?

Yes, we will never quite know how much of the drug taking that Elvis was doing was him self-treating his medical condition and how much of it was just abuse, but that's just the way it is. You can't quantitate it.

I was actually asked to deal with both of these cases because, back in the 1970s, I was trying to deal with patients who appeared to abuse opioids and other drugs and also had legitimate pain, and that's how I got involved with these cases.

It's an issue to this day, and society can't deal with it. They just refuse to talk about it, refuse to deal with it. You've got one group of doctors who just want to treat the addiction. You've got another group who just want to treat the pain, but you've really got to treat some of both and have doctors who understand both, but at this point in time, it's not happening.

I would love to see these books bring about some rational discussions about opioids and about pain and addiction, but I don't see it happening. I see nothing but controversy, accusation, falsehoods, fabrications. Society and the media can't seem to have rational discussions anymore about these issues, unfortunately.

I think with all of Elvis’ health issues and his subsequent drug addiction, it was almost like the perfect storm, right? He has EDS that's causing him extreme pain. The doctors give him pain medications to try to remedy that, so he can actually perform on stage, but then he’s still not able to perform up to the standards of his fans because of his addiction to those drugs.

He was really in a damned if you do, damned if you don’t predicament.

Yes. Also, these drugs probably caused him to have a terrible traumatic brain injury. We couldn't document it, but I suspect that's what happened. He did have a terrible traumatic brain injury, which accelerated all his other problems.

Yes. Apparently, he had fallen in a bathroom and had injured his head, and that was part of what was going on with him in the last years of his life as well.

Yes, it sure was. So again as you pointed out, it was the perfect storm. That's exactly what happened.

You know what I think is so interesting about these two books that you've written? We as the public have this view of Howard Hughes that he was a recluse because he was eccentric and that was just part of his personality. But he was actually really suffering a great deal from chronic pain.

And it's the same situation with Elvis. When we think about his death, we think he was just a drug addict who took too many pills one night, fell off the toilet and died, right? But Elvis was also living with extreme pain and suffering, and he was likely just trying to medicate himself out of that misery.

In our research studies, I saw four people yesterday who have EDS as well as spinal canal problems, and they're just miserable. I sometimes don't know how Elvis and Howard Hughes and the people I hear from daily, I don't know how they make it, you know? I marvel at it.

I'm hoping that everybody who's got intractable pain syndrome or EDS or traumatic brain injuries reads these books. That's who they're written for.

Why did you think it was important to write for those audiences?

I think that the audiences that we deal with are terribly neglected in society. I hate to say it, but I think people who have intractable pain are disdained by a great segment of the population. They're ignored by the political structure, neglected by the medical profession. I hate to say it, but the people we deal with, somebody has got to look after them.

My wife and I… we've managed to put together a foundation and use our business successes to try to help people, and I think that's not normal either. My study of the best physicians over time have been doctors who stepped up to the plate for people who needed it because nobody else in society is going to.

I feel sorry for all the groups that have been out lobbying their legislators, their politicians, their medical boards, and they get deaf ears. They get nothing but yes, yes, yes, but then nothing happens. The medical profession we have, it doesn't stand up for people with intractable pain syndrome or EDS, and that is because a huge part of the medical profession is based on treating well people or simple problems.

And so these are people in society who are disdained, neglected and abused, and are put in the corner by huge segments of not only society at large and the government, but also by the medical profession itself.

Yes, I understand exactly what you're saying. I've encountered it myself as a chronic pain patient.

I bet you do.

Any final thoughts?

I have read I don’t know how many books on Howard Hughes and Elvis Presley, and almost all of them are antagonistic. They are hostile. They blame somebody. They are looking for something that's bad, okay?

And I don't know whether it's the authors. I don't know whether it's their publishers. I can't tell you, except I know one thing: In my review of Howard Hughes and Elvis Presley, and like I say, I'm the last person who knew their doctors and had any real contact with their physicians and even the media, I don't see all this negativism.

I think people as a group try to deal with the Elvis affair legitimately, honestly and with care, and the idea that somebody should be blamed, somebody should be bad-mouthed, it's just not there.

These are great stories. They're tragic stories, but I think there are an awful lot of positive, really good things that happened to these men and to people who were around them, so I don't think we're going to get anywhere dealing with some of these issues with just total negativism.

And I think the whole situation, if you read it, is somewhat uplifting and motivating. We are here to try to help our fellow man and women have better lives, and I think there's a lot of that in both of these men.

Donna Gregory Burch was diagnosed with fibromyalgia after several years of unexplained pain, fatigue and other symptoms. She was later diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease. Donna covers news, treatments, research and practical tips for living better with fibromyalgia and Lyme on her blog, FedUpwithFatigue.com. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.

All proceeds from sales of “The Strange Medical Saga of Elvis Presley” will go the Tennant Foundation, which gives financial support to Pain News Network and sponsors PNN’s Patient Resources section.

A Different Perspective on Disbelief

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

I was watching a 2009 episode of Law and Order. The plot line revolved around a fetus who had Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS). They talked about the trials the fetus would face if born, because he would have “fragile” skin that could tear at the slightest touch.

Never once was chronic pain, a major aspect of the disorder, even mentioned. I wondered why they ignored such an essential part of living with EDS. Could it be that the idea of chronic pain is foreign to most people, including scriptwriters? Not a novel thought by any means, but then I took the idea further.

Most of us know what a sprained ankle, aching tooth or thumb hit with a hammer feels like. It hurts like heck, but we know it will go away. We do as much as we can to make it stop as quickly as possible. Pain is something our bodies and minds abhor. And rightfully so.

For most people, acute pain is short lived. It does not disable us, at least not for more than a few hours or days. It is not debilitating. It does not take over our lives.

But for some of us, the pain lingers and becomes chronic. It changes our lives irretrievably. Our experience is antithetical to what most people know and how they experience pain. We still expect them to understand, but way too often they don't. And it is upsetting, even maddening, when they don’t.

But maybe it is not merely that they don’t “get it.” Our minds and bodies are created in such a way that we are meant to turn away from pain. Maybe that also means to turn away from the horrible idea that there can be pain that does not heal and does not go away.

It is easy to think – and hope -- that if I explain my chronic pain to those who deny it, who call me a hypochondriac or malingerer, that they will ultimately come around and understand.

Not understanding, or being unwilling to understand, always seemed to me as a failing in the other person; a lack of empathy or compassion. But maybe it is more than that. Maybe it is a biological and psychological imperative. To accept that pain can be chronic is anathema to the way our minds and bodies are programmed to respond to pain.

Not an excuse, but maybe a way to understand when someone says, “I don’t believe you.”

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.”



A Zebra With the Heart of a Lion

By Dawn Tucker, Guest Columnist 

Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) sucks.  There, I said it.  I have EDS Type 3 hypermobility and it hurts. I cry every day, sometimes two and three times a day.

I have dislocated various parts of my body due to collagen deficiency.  I have what is called frequent subluxations. My neck, shoulders and wrists have sprained for no reason other than I turned too quickly or took a deep breath.  I never knew why. I just knew people judged me and were critical whenever I mentioned the severity of my pain. 

My whole life (and I am 50 years old now) has been spent listening to others tell me my pain is all in my head, or that I am lazy or crazy. So I stopped telling people about it because no one wants to listen to a constant complainer. 

Instead I isolate and spend most of my time -- when not working -- in bed trying to get my body to cooperate with me.  It doesn’t.

I have three children and five grandchildren.  One son and one grandson also have EDS, and I cry because I know they will be judged and criticized by people who don’t understand. 

I once heard someone tell my son, “Something is always wrong with you.’ And I thought to myself, they could be talking to me.  I am beset with migraines, insomnia, dental issues, allergies, fatigue, irritable bowels, sprains, pains and aches.

I too have been told, “Something is always wrong with you.”

DAWN TUCKER

And they are right.  Something is always wrong with me.  On bad days I want to give up.  Then I remember, I might be the only person my son or grandson knows, who truly understands their pain.  I cannot give up on them, even if at times I want to give up on myself.  

I try to be strong and do everything myself.  I hate to ask for help and I tire of arguing with people about my condition. Yet I know I will argue for my son and grandson.

In the last few years, I have made acquaintance with others who have EDS.  But I’ve met only two doctors that were familiar with EDS, so I took to learning more on the internet.  The internet offers a chance to get the word out about this condition. To let others know about EDS and the often painful associations because of this inherited disease. 

Medical students are sometimes told, “When you hear hoof beats behind you, don’t expect to see a zebra.” That’s why EDS is symbolized by a zebra. It is misdiagnosed, under-diagnosed or simply not considered.  

I am living proof that sometimes it really is a zebra.  I have no problem with being a zebra, but this zebra has the heart of a lion.  

Dawn Tucker lives in Ohio.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

A Funeral for My Health

By Crystal Lindell, Columnist

I want to have a funeral for my health. I want to go abroad and throw its ashes into the sea while wearing a beautiful black dress and Jackie O sunglasses to hide my tear-stained eyes.

I want to take a week off work and forget to shower while everyone brings me casseroles. And I want all of my friends and family to acknowledge what I’ve lost with slideshows and poorly written eulogies that succeed in making everyone cry.

I want to drink too much wine in a vain attempt to numb the pain, and maybe even take up smoking and a few bad men.

I want to sit around with lipstick stained coffee cups late at night telling stories about how amazing it was — my health.

How it let me lead so many youths on mission trips to far-off places. How it let me fall in love so many times. How it let me shower without pain, lured me into believing I would be immortal, and how it allowed me to travel the world.

I want to take all the time I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to live the rest of my life without it. How I will find love, be independent, and survive all of my physical limitations.

And I want the planet to just stop turning for one second while I catch my breath and adjust to the fact that world is a different place than it was.

The obituary would read as follows:

Crystal Sue Lindell’s health died after a 5-year long battle with her body. Her health was 34.

News about the loss came via email from her doctor when he confirmed her worst fears: She likely had hypermobile Ehlers Danlos syndrome (EDS) -- a diagnosis that meant that she would not only never get better, she would likely continue to get worse.

Her health is survived by her body, which will, unfortunately, carry on, in immense pain, despite the loss.

There is no cure for EDS, and as such, her health is completely dead.

She looks forward to seeing her beautiful health again one day in the afterlife, where she hopes it will be waiting for her among the stars.

In lieu of flowers, Crystal asks that donations be made to EDS Awareness, a non-profit online resource for the EDS community.

Crystal Lindell is a journalist who lives in Illinois. She eats too much Taco Bell, drinks too much espresso, and spends too much time looking for the perfect pink lipstick. She has hypermobile EDS. 

Crystal writes about it on her blog, “The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.”

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

An Open Letter to All the Doctors Who Missed My EDS

By Crystal Lindell, Columnist

I hate you. I actually hate you.

Well, maybe not all of you.

But most of you, yes I hate. Actually, hate is too nice word. I detest you. I loathe you. I have venom in my heart for you. I hope your favorite show gets cancelled after a cliff hanger. I hope your air conditioner breaks in your car in July. I hope your crush never likes any of your Instagram photos. I hope every single time you go through the Taco Bell drive thru, they mess up your order. And I hope your phone screen cracks, your laptop crashes and you lose everything you ever saved.

I was recently diagnosed with Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos syndrome (hEDS), a connective tissue disorder that not only explains why my ribs always feel broken, but also why I’m always covered in unexplained bruises, why I sprain my ankles too often, why my vision changed for no reason, why my skin is baby soft, and why I crave salt.

And so many doctors missed it. And I can’t get it out of my head.

Like the doctor at Loyola who told me to stop coming to see him because there was nothing else he could do about my pain.

And the other doctor at Loyola who looked right at me while I was sitting on the exam table in just a paper-thin gown and said, “Well there are two options. You either woke up with a completely unexplainable pain, or you’re a great actress.”

I was so caught off guard that I didn’t even realize he was accusing me of trying to get drugs for like a full 30 seconds.

I also hate literally every single doctor at the Mayo Clinic that missed this crap. You know how easy it is to do an initial test for hEDS?

Doctor: "Can you bend your thumb to your wrist?"

Patient: "Yes."

Doctor: "Yeah, you probably have it. Let’s do a full evaluation."

IT’S THAT EASY!!!

The Mayo Clinic missed it because they were obsessed with me going to their rehab clinic and getting off opioids, despite the fact that it wasn’t covered by my insurance and that they required a $35,000 upfront payment.

So yes, I hate all of you.

I also hate every single chiropractor I ever saw. Seriously, all you guys do is see people in pain, and it never crosses your mind to evaluate for EDS? Why are you not asking every single patient who walks through your doors if they can touch their thumb to their wrist? What is wrong with you?

Not to mention the fact that chiropractors have to be super careful with EDS patients, if they treat them at all, because things can dislocate and all that. It’s irresponsible of you not to be evaluating every single patient for EDS.

I also hate the pain specialist who berated me for not wanting a spinal cord stimulator. If he had evaluated me for EDS, he would have known that a spinal cord stimulator would have probably been a horrible idea for me. Like chiropractors, all pain specialists do is see people in pain. They should be evaluating every single patient they see for EDS too! 

The whole thing is so infuriating and frustrating. I sincerely wish I could go back to every single doctor I have seen over the last five years and personally tell all of them how much I hate them. And then I wish I could tell all of them to freaking check people for EDS. But I can’t do that. All I can do is write this letter and then try to move forward with my new life and my new diagnosis.

But if you’re a pain patient and you can touch your thumb to your wrist, get checked for EDS. Seriously.

And if you’re a doctor, do better.

Crystal Lindell is a journalist who lives in Illinois. She eats too much Taco Bell, drinks too much espresso, and spends too much time looking for the perfect pink lipstick. She has hypermobile EDS. 

Crystal writes about it on her blog, “The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.”

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

How I Started Telling People I Have EDS

By Crystal Lindell, Columnist

One of the first people I told about my new Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) diagnosis was a local politician.

I was still trying to get a feel for how the letters EDS tasted on my lips. How they felt in my breath. How people would react when I said them. And truth be told, this was when doctors were telling me I probably had it, but before I was officially diagnosed — that came later.

He didn’t know he was among the first people I told — that he was a test case. But there we were, at a local Democrats meeting and he asked me about medical marijuana, and I decided to go for it. 

“I actually have EDS,” I said. “My thumb touches my wrist, want to see? Yes, marijuana should be legalized. No, it won’t help everyone.”

He had the response most people seem to have.

“Maybe it will get better?”

“It won’t get better,” I told him.

“Yeah, but maybe it will! Once, I was sick and then I got better. So maybe you will get better.”

“It won’t.”

I get it. Nobody wants to really understand that being born in the wrong family is enough to sentence you to a lifetime of weak ankles and debilitating pain. It’s hard to understand that. It’s hard to accept that. It’s a lot easier to believe someone might get better.

It’s been hard for me to accept that. And harder still to say it out loud.

I have found though that it feels easier to lay the news on random acquaintances. The Tinder guy I met once. The woman who expertly bleaches my hair at the over-priced salon. The clerk at Walgreen's ringing up my pain medications.

There’s something to be said for telling random strangers something so overwhelming. It greatly reduces the consequences of your words — and of their reaction.

My initial instinct was to tell the people closest to me, my inner circle, first. But that quickly become completely overwhelming. Those people care way too much about me. They take it way too hard. It cuts too deep.

No, strangers are much better. They are morbidly impressed with my thumb to wrist trick. They are able to distance themselves from the depressing, long-term aspects of the diagnosis and ask horrifically, wonderful mundane questions like, “What does EDS stand for?”

And they never stop to think about what it might mean for my future. That’s my favorite part. Because the future looks very scary right now. And I need to do my best to stay in the present.

I have forced myself to pepper in the tougher conversations with the people who care about me. The late-nights over tears with my best friend wondering what this might mean for my future. Asking things like, what if I can never kids? And even if I can, do I want to risk passing it on to them?

Will I need assisted care sooner than most? How will I ever explain my health to future lovers? Why did it take so excessively long to get the diagnosis? How much of my life was wasted waiting for it? What could have been different if only I had known sooner? Will my siblings need to be evaluated? And what happens if they have it too?

All the things that fill me with grief and despair if I let them.

But strangers never ask questions like that. And even if they do, they don’t actually care about the answers that much. And I love that about them.

Eventually, hopefully, it will just become one more things about me. I’m blonde, I don’t like Trump, I love Burn Notice, I eat too much Taco Bell, and I have hEDS. It’s part of who I am, but not the whole part, or even the most important part. Just another casual fact in my Instagram bio next to things like, “I like lipstick.”

And no, I won’t actually ever getter better, but eventually, hopefully, I’ll get better at having hEDS and telling people about it.

Crystal Lindell is a journalist who lives in Illinois. She eats too much Taco Bell, drinks too much espresso, and spends too much time looking for the perfect pink lipstick. She has hypermobile EDS. 

Crystal writes about it on her blog, “The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.”

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Finding Out I Have EDS

By Crystal Lindell, Columnist

It turns out pain has been running through my veins all along. It has been a part of my bones since the day I was born. I just didn’t know it.

I have recently been diagnosed with something called hypermobile EDS, which is a subtype of Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. Basically, my connective tissue is weaker than it should be.

It explains why I spent the last five years feeling like the bones in my rib cage were cracked. It explains why my legs and arms are often painted blue and purple and shades of Army green with bruises from injuries I have no memory of. And it explains why my ankles gave way so often over the years that I ended up with an entire dresser drawer full of beige ankle wraps.

It also explains why everyone who ever loved me would describe me as clumsy. And why I got tendonitis at such a relatively young age. It explains my vision changes and my “bad veins” and my soft skin.  

Readers have privately messaged me many times to get checked for EDS, but I thought it was too rare. I thought my doctors would think I was stupid or crazy for asking about it. And I didn’t think it ran in my family.

I was devastatingly wrong about all those of things.

And at every crossroad over the last few weeks, at every opportunity to find out that maybe I was overreacting, my worst fears were confirmed.

First by the osteopath, who asked if I could touch my thumb to my wrist, and when I showed her I could, said plainly, “Oh yeah, you could definitely have EDS.”

Then by my cousin, who herself has suffered from unexplained pain and health issues for years. When I asked if her doctors had ever thought she might have EDS, she replied, simply, "Yes, they have."

Next came my mom, who I tried to avoid involving in all this for as long as possible, because I knew it would be harder on her than it was on me to find out I might have EDS. As she sat on the couch across from me, she scrolled through the list of signs and symptoms on her phone and then abruptly stopped.

“I think my dad had this,” she said.

A revelation. An epiphany of the worst kind.

Her dad. The man who died when I was 3. The man everyone always said spent his life dealing with unexplained pain. The man I was haphazardly compared to whenever I popped pills. The man who I had no memory of. It was him. He was the link. 

And then the dots just started connecting themselves. Like when you watch an eight-part Netflix show and it takes the characters until the very last episode to realize that the killer was in the house all along and you’re screaming at the TV to try to tell them, but they just don’t see it.

Then, finally, they see it. 

It turns out his mom likely had EDS too. My mom’s grandma, and my great-grandma, Hazel. The family lore is that she was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis at 26 and spent most of her life miserable and in horrible pain. I have now discovered that her RA was probably, at the very least, an incomplete diagnosis.

When I talked to her son, my great-uncle, I expected him to prove me wrong. To say something that countered my suspicions. But he did exactly the opposite. The last year of her life the doctors had told him that her body was like a bunch of bricks and the cement holding them together was deteriorating. EDS explained with a construction metaphor.

Even more heartbreaking was that he said all they ever gave her for her pain was aspirin. That’s it. Aspirin. And it did not help.

I had been hoping -- since it was so long ago --- that they were more generous with the pain medications at the time. That they had gladly given her all the morphine she wanted. But, as with so many things lately, the opposite of what I believed was actually true.

I told my pain specialist at the university hospital in Wisconsin about all this. And until the very end I hoped he would prove me wrong. That he would accuse me of being hysterical. But instead, he said simply, “Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a possibility, based on your reports and my prior examination. Best bet would be for you to come in for a visit.”

And that’s when I knew. That was all I needed to finally understand that the killer was in the house the whole time.

“Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a possibility.”

“Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a possibility.”

“Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a possibility.”

It played over and over and over in my head. I let myself think for a second. There it is. Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a possibility.

I scheduled a visit for March 15. And this week, after spending about 45 minutes bending me like a Gumby doll, he confirmed it. I have hypermobile EDS – or hEDS for short.

I am fairly certain that all of those wonderful, strong people out there who live with EDS will know how devastated I am by all this. And how sad it makes me. I cannot talk myself out of the grief I have been feeling. Because now, not only will I likely never get better, the odds are high that I will get worse. There is no cure, only treatments that manage the symptoms. And physical therapy to prevent others.

All I can think about is the doctor at Loyola from the very beginning. The one I first saw with shooting pain in my wrists five years ago. The one I went back to a few months later hoping to find answers for the new pain in my ribs.

The one who looked right at me and said, “Please stop coming in. There is nothing I can do to help you.”

The one who could have found this so easily, if only he had taken the time to look for it. The one who pushed me into piles of medical bills and doctor visits and nights with unexplained pain because he thought I was making it all up. Or at the very least, overreacting.

I want to go back to his office and show him what I learned. I want to yell in his face, “IT’S EDS! I WASN’T BEING CRAZY! I WAS IN PAIN!! I NEEDED YOUR HELP!!!”

And then I want to cry. Again. Because crying seems like the only appropriate response to all of this right now.

Crystal Lindell is a journalist who lives in Illinois. She eats too much Taco Bell, drinks too much espresso, and spends too much time looking for the perfect pink lipstick. She has hypermobile EDS. 

Crystal writes about it on her blog, “The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.”

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.