Life with Neuropathy

Hi, my name is John.   A nd I have CIDP  (Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy ). When you have CIDP or any type of neuropathy you must  figure out how to deal with the daily issue of trying to move things both big and small while pushing a walker, or holding a cane, or ambulating unsteadily on your own two feet.  (Ah...for the good old days...)  Simply put, nothing is as easy as it used to be...   I've taken to tossing things like pill bottles, pillows, a TV remote, socks, towels, my phone or other items that like to fly. Food, not so much. But if it's carefully contained and the lid won't pop open, I might give that a try sometime. The bed and couch make nice soft landing spots!  This is definitely not the same as dropping things -- because my tremendous tossing efforts are totally intentional . Granted, sometimes what I'm throwing ends up on the floor so I guess that technically turns it into a dropped item. But against my will. That's for sure.  Wi

Hi, my name is John.   A nd I have CIDP  (Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy ). When you have CIDP or any type of neuropathy you must  figure out how to deal with the daily issue of exhaustion. It can be crushing.  Everything is a challenge. Everything takes longer. Often much longer. Everything hurts and the tearing pain is a constant reminder of the many changes you're  facing. Constantly. Always. Every moment.  You can have neuropathy and still LOOK marvelous! People don't necessarily see that you even have a problem unless you have a walker or cane. And they certainly don't understand what it's like living with CIDP. Or realize that having constant pain makes you tired.   I used to be able to fall asleep the moment I flopped into bed. I was out. Completely. No problems, no issues. In fact, I've earned several Gold Medals in Napping.  Now when I try to sleep I can't quite let go and relax because of the pain surging through my limbs. Squeezing

My name is John and I have peripheral neuropathy. This bony gentleman isn't afraid to bare his spine and neither was I. So let me share my personal experience with a lumbar puncture (affectionately known as an LP).  Never in my life would I have considered that I might be tapped to share a generous portion of my cerebral spinal fluid to allow vital tests to be run. But that's what the doctor ordered. And I couldn't avoid it.   Honestly, I worked up the situation in my head to be a horror film kind of encounter. You know -- after much struggle and screaming, I would be strapped to a table and then someone would shove a needle into my spine. This, of course, would paralyze me while the unsavory locals stole my wallet, walker, and water bottle.   But it turned out to be a much more banal experience. I was rolled from one room to another way down the hall and then had to roll from one bed to another. After that I tried to get comfortable on my stomach as my back was prepared fo

  Welcome to Life with Neuropathy. My name's John and I have peripheral neuropathy. Today let's talk about tennis balls.  So what's the deal with tennis balls and walkers? The two go together like peanut butter and jelly, Bert and Ernie, and Sonny and Cher. You see this combination everywhere especially if you stop by an assisted living facility. Swing by an ortho clinic. Or visit me in my home. Read more about famous walkers on TV at Let's Talk about Humor .  Now that I have a walker I knew it was only a matter or time before I gave in.  I'm not sure who the first person was to ever jam tennis balls onto the back legs of a two-wheeled walker but that unique practice has caught on and spread. Like an unspecified virus of unknown origin. To learn more about my neuropathy journey please read Let Me Introduce Myself .  But why? What's the reason? Well, adding tennis balls to a walker does, in fact, make them safer. Provides more contact with the floor. Also, the fe

Life With Neuropathy:  A Little Humor, Very Little Hi, my name is John and I ha ve severe idiopathic peripheral neuropathy.  So I'm used to using a walker. I don't like it but I live with it. Read more about  worsening symptoms.  Here are also a few thoughts about standing tall during tough times.  Today let's talk about humor. One of the ways that I've always survived the daily grind (even before being diagnosed with neuropathy) was looking at the world through a very strange and crooked lens. To be honest, sometimes (OK, lots of times) I was the only one laughing, but as my wife likes to say, "You're definitely able to amuse yourself."  And that's a gift, right?  Plus it's true. I see things in weird ways and sometimes stuff just makes me laugh. No explanation necessary. How about you? What's your general outlook on life? Half-full, half-empty -- or no glass at all? When things got so bad for me that I needed to use a walker, a dear friend