I didn’t like anything I read about Candida. I was afraid of antifungal medication.
I was addicted to sugar. Candida diets are not a happy prospect for a sugar addict.
I spent a lot of time with Dr.Google.
I was looking for a way out of my dilemma that did not require a Candida diet and did not insist on antifungal meds.
It’s just as well I did not subject my liver to that, I think.
So what’s the biochemistry of this tsunami of fluid against vital organs like the lung and heart?
It seems I was running my own private distillery. I was busy blowing bubbles in my GI tract while creating alcohol, formaldehyde and only a biochemist would know what else.
I bet livers hate formaldehyde. They get pretty stressed over alcohol.
I know I had a fatty liver 16 years ago and that is a really compromised organ. It was a sitting duck for that Candida alcohol production system. Then add formaldehyde as a by-product and you don’t have a pretty pinky liver any more.
You’ve got a mess called Cirrhosis.
Just try to carry out five hundred functions when you’re in a cirrhotic mess like that!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Yo! Candida!
You there with the sweet tooth always luring me to eat sugar.
What are you up to?
Knocking out my immune system for a few hours?
So, I’ve eaten the ‘mostly raisins’ hot cross bun. It was good.
Now I've got GAS.
Not the kind I can run my car on, either.
But I sure wish that gas would move.
Instead it expands and presses the Ascites fluid up against my lungs and I cough.
Asthma, they call it. It does respond to puffers like Ventolin and Pulmacort, but they make me bruise.
Then the fluid crowds my heart and makes it race. That excites doctors.
Instead of just my stomach being swollen with Ascites, so much gas is being produced in my gut that the fluid starts sloshing around in my head, like a tide coming in on one side and going out on the other.
Was I scared the first time that happened to me!
I thought I was having a heart attack. And I was 25 miles from a hospital.
I pulled over to the side of the road and considered my options. Go north to the nearer hospital or go south to the one at home.
I’d just been to a home warming of a stackwood house with Green technology. There was an array of foods from creative well-spiced vegan to conventional. I’d had indigestion before and tried to make good choices, but I had not succeeded apparently. While I was sitting on the shoulder of the road considering which direction to go and scaring myself silly, I finally came to realize that I was likely not having a heart attack. I had no pain in my heart and my skin felt too small for all I had inside it. I concluded, it might just be the worst case of indigestion I’d ever had, put the car in drive and hurtled South at faster-than-the-sight-of-cops-to-see speed.
I got a two litre bottle of Ginger Ale and drank it all. I burped several times. That felt pretty good. Eventually I stopped having palpitations, coughing and my head calmed down as the internal waves receded.
On Monday morning I made an appointment with my doctor who put a Holter monitor on me. I tried to replicate the scary effect, but it never happened although the doctor was convinced he’d seen something exciting. It just wasn’t what I was excited about.
I read up on causes of gas and Candida Albicans kept surfacing.
I took a Candida questionnaire. I had way too many answers that pointed to Candida.
Rats!
What are you up to?
Knocking out my immune system for a few hours?
So, I’ve eaten the ‘mostly raisins’ hot cross bun. It was good.
Now I've got GAS.
Not the kind I can run my car on, either.
But I sure wish that gas would move.
Instead it expands and presses the Ascites fluid up against my lungs and I cough.
Asthma, they call it. It does respond to puffers like Ventolin and Pulmacort, but they make me bruise.
Then the fluid crowds my heart and makes it race. That excites doctors.
Instead of just my stomach being swollen with Ascites, so much gas is being produced in my gut that the fluid starts sloshing around in my head, like a tide coming in on one side and going out on the other.
Was I scared the first time that happened to me!
I thought I was having a heart attack. And I was 25 miles from a hospital.
I pulled over to the side of the road and considered my options. Go north to the nearer hospital or go south to the one at home.
I’d just been to a home warming of a stackwood house with Green technology. There was an array of foods from creative well-spiced vegan to conventional. I’d had indigestion before and tried to make good choices, but I had not succeeded apparently. While I was sitting on the shoulder of the road considering which direction to go and scaring myself silly, I finally came to realize that I was likely not having a heart attack. I had no pain in my heart and my skin felt too small for all I had inside it. I concluded, it might just be the worst case of indigestion I’d ever had, put the car in drive and hurtled South at faster-than-the-sight-of-cops-to-see speed.
I got a two litre bottle of Ginger Ale and drank it all. I burped several times. That felt pretty good. Eventually I stopped having palpitations, coughing and my head calmed down as the internal waves receded.
On Monday morning I made an appointment with my doctor who put a Holter monitor on me. I tried to replicate the scary effect, but it never happened although the doctor was convinced he’d seen something exciting. It just wasn’t what I was excited about.
I read up on causes of gas and Candida Albicans kept surfacing.
I took a Candida questionnaire. I had way too many answers that pointed to Candida.
Rats!
I'm Mad!
Not crazy mad. Angry mad! Boy! Am I mad!
I’m just walking along the street following Hemi home to get his treat-treat and all of a sudden, instead of appreciating the beautiful blazing colours of the leaves on the maple trees along my street, I am royally P.O.ed.
Hemi is walking in a straight line, zipping right along home for his treat and I’m walking all over the place and mad as a wet hen.
It’s not raining, either. There are no ticked off wet hens around there.
Cirrhosis can sneak up on a person like that.
If I lived with others and was verbally abusive I’d be on a guilt trip for the foreseeable future. But at this stage of Cirrhosis I can still care for myself, and I’m still in control of my mind so I can edit anything abusive before it gets words put to the emotion. Snarky, gives me trouble. I may not always be able to keep a lid on these seemingly baseless surges of anger if my mind becomes compromised. If I ‘lose it’ should I ever say anything that would make my caregiver miserable, I’m apologizing right now. Dementia isn’t pretty, but when words get added to the anger, it’s even worse.
I have not figured out why I have these bouts of anger. What is going on bio-chemically that would elicit this emotion? Have I eaten something that my liver totally cannot process?
Do I have Candida and I am a nasty drunk? Good question.
More about Candida’s modus operandi another day
I’m just walking along the street following Hemi home to get his treat-treat and all of a sudden, instead of appreciating the beautiful blazing colours of the leaves on the maple trees along my street, I am royally P.O.ed.
Hemi is walking in a straight line, zipping right along home for his treat and I’m walking all over the place and mad as a wet hen.
It’s not raining, either. There are no ticked off wet hens around there.
Cirrhosis can sneak up on a person like that.
If I lived with others and was verbally abusive I’d be on a guilt trip for the foreseeable future. But at this stage of Cirrhosis I can still care for myself, and I’m still in control of my mind so I can edit anything abusive before it gets words put to the emotion. Snarky, gives me trouble. I may not always be able to keep a lid on these seemingly baseless surges of anger if my mind becomes compromised. If I ‘lose it’ should I ever say anything that would make my caregiver miserable, I’m apologizing right now. Dementia isn’t pretty, but when words get added to the anger, it’s even worse.
I have not figured out why I have these bouts of anger. What is going on bio-chemically that would elicit this emotion? Have I eaten something that my liver totally cannot process?
Do I have Candida and I am a nasty drunk? Good question.
More about Candida’s modus operandi another day
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Liver Trouble Blog
Welcome to Sirosis.
I am gathering information about end-stage care and treatment of Cirrhosis, reversal of fatty liver, prevention of gallstones, keeping one’s gall bladder, and ways to deal with compromised digestion and the resulting pain and debilitation.
There is a scarcity of information about the care of the liver in order to keep it healthy and functioning optimally so life is good. Knowledge gathering takes some digging and until recently was unavailable and largely ignored by sickness and wellness professionals as well as popular novel writers
Has your doctor ever talked to you about how to feed and care for your liver or gall bladder?
Probably not, unless you have a medical saint and/or health radical in your corner.
I’ve known since ‘93 that I had a “Fatty Liver” but whenever I asked my M.D. what I should do about that, I was told to ‘eat lots of fruit and vegetables’…
We all know that. But which vegetables? Which fruits? I needed something specific.
Something based on logic and biochemistry that would have restored my liver and prevented the Cirrhosis from developing.
The dietician had one page of generalities in her book about Cirrhosis. Not a lot.
I’m frustrated that I did not get the guidance I needed to prevent my fatty liver from progressing to Cirrhosis.
After I was diagnosed with Cirrhosis, two years ago, I tried to find out what I could do about Cirrhosis and what the prognosis was for the remainder of my life. I got nothing solid there, either. Nothing I could plan my future on so I’d have in place the care and living arrangements I’ll need when the time comes. And not before.
I have a dog and I need to look out for him, too. I don’t want to re-home him, while I’m well enough to care for him. I’m exploring how best to care for my liver and have the best quality of life possible for as long as possible. My hope is to outlive the dog and he is now five years old.
I’m only one person, so if others share experiences, we’ll know how things go for some other people and maybe find ways to help expand knowledge in this critical health field.
Pretty much everything depends on the liver and the liver depends on the knowledge, choices and actions of the person in whom it exists, so we’d better get together a Caregiver’s Manual for our trusty servant, the liver.
Share your experiences, what you know, or want to know and make a difference for yourself and others.
I am gathering information about end-stage care and treatment of Cirrhosis, reversal of fatty liver, prevention of gallstones, keeping one’s gall bladder, and ways to deal with compromised digestion and the resulting pain and debilitation.
There is a scarcity of information about the care of the liver in order to keep it healthy and functioning optimally so life is good. Knowledge gathering takes some digging and until recently was unavailable and largely ignored by sickness and wellness professionals as well as popular novel writers
Has your doctor ever talked to you about how to feed and care for your liver or gall bladder?
Probably not, unless you have a medical saint and/or health radical in your corner.
I’ve known since ‘93 that I had a “Fatty Liver” but whenever I asked my M.D. what I should do about that, I was told to ‘eat lots of fruit and vegetables’…
We all know that. But which vegetables? Which fruits? I needed something specific.
Something based on logic and biochemistry that would have restored my liver and prevented the Cirrhosis from developing.
The dietician had one page of generalities in her book about Cirrhosis. Not a lot.
I’m frustrated that I did not get the guidance I needed to prevent my fatty liver from progressing to Cirrhosis.
After I was diagnosed with Cirrhosis, two years ago, I tried to find out what I could do about Cirrhosis and what the prognosis was for the remainder of my life. I got nothing solid there, either. Nothing I could plan my future on so I’d have in place the care and living arrangements I’ll need when the time comes. And not before.
I have a dog and I need to look out for him, too. I don’t want to re-home him, while I’m well enough to care for him. I’m exploring how best to care for my liver and have the best quality of life possible for as long as possible. My hope is to outlive the dog and he is now five years old.
I’m only one person, so if others share experiences, we’ll know how things go for some other people and maybe find ways to help expand knowledge in this critical health field.
Pretty much everything depends on the liver and the liver depends on the knowledge, choices and actions of the person in whom it exists, so we’d better get together a Caregiver’s Manual for our trusty servant, the liver.
Share your experiences, what you know, or want to know and make a difference for yourself and others.
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