Living with Scleroderma

Reflections on the Messy Complexity of Chronicity

managing chronic disease

Threading the Needle

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I finished sewing another dress this weekend, just in time for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, which begins today. It’s customary to wear something new for the holiday. As per usual, however, I started making this dress, which I’ve been thinking about all summer, just as the weather was turning cooler. It’s a lightweight, very silky rayon knit, beautiful but tricky fabric (also per usual—I always seem to pick what’s hardest to handle). Not autumnal material.

By a stroke of good fortune, however, Tuesday here is supposed to be warm again, for one day. I’m writing on Monday afternoon, fingers crossed. And if it is actually cooler than expected, I bought a long-sleeved silk shirt and leggings to wear underneath. So, hopefully, this will all work out as planned.

In any case, I picked the fabric both for its floral print and drape. It’s very soft and wonderfully fluid. Which made it challenging to sew. And so, I had to hand baste some critical seams in place before stitching them with my sewing machine. This included tacking down the inner waistband facing and the very, very, very long hem (it’s a wrap dress).

Hand sewing is the best way to achieve accuracy in a garment, but it is extremely challenging for me at this point. Not only because my fingertips have resorbed significantly, but also because I have so many bandages on my fingers. Which makes it hard to feel what I’m doing.

Not only that, threading the needle is tricky because of my very dry eyes, due to Sjogrens. No matter what I do of late with various eye drops, I cannot clearly see something as small as the eye of a needle, especially of a fine needle for sewing rayon. It takes numerous tries, using a pair of tweezers to hold the tip of the thread and turning the needle this way and that to see the eye. Eventually I get it threaded, but not without uttering a string of choice words.

And inevitably, when I get to the end of a particular piece of thread, but not quite, I manage to pull the needle too far and lose the thread. Which means threading it again. Especially on a very, very, very long hem. Which lets loose another long string of choice words.

So why do I do this to myself? Sewing is supposed to be a fun, relaxing hobby, right? I guess I’m just stubborn. I refuse to give up this skill that I’ve honed since I was a teenager. The results are never perfect, but it always gives me a boost to wear something I’ve made well.

I’m really pleased with the dress, and even if I only get to wear it once until the weather warms up again next summer, it’s a good way to start the New Year—stubbornly refusing to relinquish my ability to make something beautiful, especially now.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Making Progress

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As I wrote several weeks back, I’ve restarted taking Pilates. My purple pool noodle adaptation for padding the reformer’s foot-bar did not work, unfortunately (the hollow core was too narrow to fit over the bar), but my instructor found a great alternative—black foam pipe insulation. It’s about an inch thick and just the right amount of squishy protection for my sensitive feet.

So, with that issue solved, I’ve been enjoying my weekly class. The routine varies each week, and sometimes, even though this is a basic level, it is a bit of a struggle. But overall, I am feeling better, my posture is slowly improving, and I’m able to manage more spring tension on the reformer. I can walk up stairs a bit more easily, too. My lower back remains achy and stiff in the morning and when I sit too long at my computer, but it eases up with stretches and movement. My cardiologist has always told me that you can strengthen your heart and muscles at any age, and he’s right (of course).

In fact, I find myself looking forward to class, and even contemplating going more than once a week. (Although after last week’s workout, I really needed a full week’s break to let my body catch up.) The best part of the routine, aside from a sense of accomplishment, is the endorphin boost from exercise. It really does help my moods and relieve some of the mental and emotional stress that is all too present these days.

My other reward, since the studio is near a Whole Foods market, is to pick up some granola cereal and organic fruit, maybe some fresh flowers, too, after class. The first time I went to the intro session (when my shoulder developed a weird tremor), I could barely walk to my car, let alone across the large parking lot to the store. Now, even after an intense workout, I walk the distance easily.

So, progress.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Katelyn Perry

Glad That’s Over

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I am writing on Monday afternoon on my laptop, as I lie on the couch with an ice-pack propped against my lower left jaw—ten minutes on, ten minutes off, to reduce swelling. This, after getting an implant, following my tooth extraction in May.

This is the fifth time in at least a decade, maybe 15 years, that I’ve had to go through this very expensive procedure, because of a scleroderma complication that causes the roots of my teeth to resorb. It is no fun, but the alternative is worse—a mouthful of missing teeth. The first two steps (extracting the dying tooth and filling in the hole with a bone graft, then implanting the base for the new artificial tooth) take about three months each to fully heal. The final stage of getting a custom replacement made is not as prolonged, but it will be at least December before it’s all completed.

Any dental work for me is a challenge. I cannot open my mouth fully because the skin around my mouth doesn’t stretch enough. Fortunately, I have found experts who know how to accommodate my limitations. My periodontist is precise and very careful with me, and he has the most calming manner, which really helps me endure the procedure.

Which involved a lot of local anesthesia, cutting open the gum around the bone graft, then drilling with three drill bits of increasing widths, then screwing in the implant with a tool that is essentially a small socket wrench, capping the implant, then filling in any spaces with collagen tissue and stitching up the gum.

The drilling is the hardest part, sending vibrations through my skull. As the width of the drill bit increases, the vibrating hum gets lower and louder. I’m always afraid that the anesthesia will begin to wear off, which it inevitably does at some point for me in these procedures. Fortunately, I caught it soon enough so he could give me more shots and finish with no significant pain. But his skilled fingers are big and my mouth is small and it is never easy.

I’ve started antibiotics as a safeguard against infection, and so far the pain is manageable with alternating Tylenol and ibuprofin. If experience is any guide, the worst is now over and it’s just a matter of healing up (and paying in installments over the next few months). Here’s hoping the next tooth that dies will hang on for a few more years.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Gratisography

Back to Pilates

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As I wrote a few weeks ago, I am in dire need of a solid exercise routine that will help me improve my posture and get stronger overall. Walking is my favorite exercise, weather permitting. I tried yoga a couple of years ago and ended up injuring my back. So that was out. Before the pandemic, for several years, I enjoyed Pilates, especially working out on a reformer, which is a bench with springs and ropes that you use to do various movements, using your body weight as a counter-force.

So, I decided to give Pilates a try once again, and about three weeks ago I went to a free intro course at a studio about 15 minutes from home. The studio was filled with reformers, so that was a good sign. Mat classes are okay, but not as interesting. As we went through the half-hour routine, many of the exercises were familiar and relatively easy for me to do.

However, about 20 minutes into the class, all of a sudden, my right shoulder began to shudder. Now, I know what an overworked muscle feels like when it trembles. But this was something altogether different, involuntary and weird, possibly triggered by arm circles, pulling on ropes that moved the carriage as we moved our arms. Whatever the reason, it really threw me for a loop. We moved on to leg exercises, and in about 10 minutes my shoulder calmed down. I spoke to the instructor after class, and she suggested reducing the spring tension and making smaller arm circles next time. She also asked if my docs had approved this exercise, to which I responded that they’ve been encouraging me to do more.

But I went home quite unsettled. Was my body really not up to this anymore? I stalled for about a week, then decided to contact my rheumatologist for his assessment. He was very encouraging and realistic. “You’re deconditioned,” he said. His advice: Take it slower to build back up, but there’s no reason not to go back.

So I did. Last Friday I took a full 50-minute, basic level class. I moved through the routine at my own pace, with rests as needed and smaller movements as necessary. Finished without any difficulty, and I haven’t really been too sore, either (compared to the intro class, which took a weekend to recover from). I’ve already scheduled a class for this week, and I intend to get a studio membership.

Best of all, I’m already noticing little improvements in my ability to stand straighter and get up more easily from a squat. All good signs that, as my cardiologist keeps telling me, it’s never too late to build yourself up again.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Ahmet Kurt

Summer’s Gift

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There are a lot of reasons to complain about the heat this summer—too much, too humid, too risky. But there is also one big blessing for me: my finger ulcers are healing.

In particular, the left ring finger ulcer that I’ve been nursing since January through a lost nail and several rounds of antibiotics is much improved. A few visits to our hospital’s wound clinic were extremely helpful, especially learning the benefits of a special petroleum-jelly-infused gauze, typically used for burns, that has made a huge difference in managing the moisture level of the ulcer.

Keeping my ulcers moist but not too moist is always the key—and the trickiest part of this process. If the ulcer is not moist enough under the dressing, the skin tightens and becomes quite painful. But if it is too moist, the skin breaks down even further, takes longer to heal, and invites infections.

I also discovered that when my skin is extremely irritated, plain petroleum jelly is better than Aquafor, which has been my go-to ointment for decades. It contains lanolin alcohol, which can cause me issues. I confirmed this with wound clinic staff, and they said it’s not an uncommon reaction.

Another very useful medication that I received from the wound clinic is a steroid ointment, Triamcinolone Acetonide 0.5% (requires a prescription). This can only be used for seven days at a stretch, then you have to take a break. But it really calms inflamed skin.

I change my bandages twice daily, using whatever combination of dressings is most appropriate for that particular ulcer, a process that takes about a half-hour at present. Atop any ointment I place a small piece of very soft gauze, then anchor it with breathable fabric bandages. Right now, I’m down to four bandaged fingers during the day and three at night (one needs extra protection from typing).

My right thumb is my current problem child, with calcium bits beneath the surface, so I’ll bring that issue to the wound clinic this week when I review my situation. I also need advice for how to ween the left ring finger from dressings so the nail can (maybe) grow back.

I’ll never be free of my bandages. I’ve come to accept that fact. But I’m grateful, as always, for access to excellent medical care. And glad, even when it’s too hot, even for me, that summer is here, for now.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.