Are my Breast Implants killing me? Part Two of my Lyme Disease Journey…

So, where did I leave off?

Blake had a big goal to be debt-free and felt called to work out in California. I was reluctant to do this actually we both were as we didn’t care for Cali when we went on the hiring trip to scout it out. But God kept pulling at our heartstrings to go, and we both wanted to be obedient to his callings. We decided we would go even if it helped just one person.

We lived out of a fifth-wheel camper in Cali with the girls and Raven, our Great Dane. It worked great in the beginning; God did many neat things. But the more time that went by, Blake became addicted to working. That left me in a small space doing everything alone with our girls. Our youngest daughter was struggling with her health and moods; she was getting worse in some ways. The stress started to wear on me, but I was managing. I was eating super clean and working out a lot. Besides the stress and hormone issues, I was pretty healthy.

But the voice of low self-esteem was taunting me. I was bothered immensely by my not proportionate chest. I had always been asymmetrical, one bigger than the other, but nursing had taken its toll, making it much worse. I got to where I hated my chest, and as a couple, we decided I would get a breast augmentation. I was told my breasts don’t look like sisters, half-sisters, but maybe cousins at the consultation. That didn’t help my self-esteem, as it pretty much talked me right into it. I had some reservations asked if they were harmful and if I could reject them. He was super positive that they wouldn’t hurt me. The stuff on the internet about Breast Implant Illness was not out there then like it is now, as I never ran across it. So I got them.

After implanting, I noticed fatigue and memory issues right away, but honestly, I just attributed it to stress. Then at about four months in, my anxiety started ramping up, along with having worse PMDD hormone issues with weight gain. I was miserable, and at six months post-surgery, I told Blake I had enough of tiny living, and I was heading back home to Michigan to get some much-needed help from family and see my doctor.

When I got home to Michigan, I saw my doctor and a nutritionist and started supplements. I felt a little better and maintained that for a while. Even though I still had the same issues, they were dulled down and more manageable.

Instead of living full-time in Cali out of RV, we decided we would do winters there and live out of Air Bnb’s.
Blake left first, and we were due to go out with him two months later to finish out the last few months of winter until spring. That was the plan.

Blake left, and I began to notice my symptoms revving up as I was managing everything at home alone, plus navigating my dad thru a horrific time in his life. My stress was off the charts.
I then went on to have my first panic attack while driving with no warning. I’m so thankful my Mother in Law seen my car on the side of the road that day! It was then I could tell something in my body was not right. I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach something was very wrong.

The kids and I still went out to Cali like planned. Why I thought that was a good idea, I still wonder today! I was only there three days when my vision blurred. I panicked, telling Blake I couldn’t see right or think straight. A fog had rolled in my brain, and it wouldn’t leave. I was getting a little worse each day. The fatigue kicked in more, and I began to have more panic attacks. I had a panic attack going down a five-lane highway in the middle of traffic, not able to pull over.
My legs were violently shaking, and I swear the only way I could use the gas peddle was God sent an angel. How I managed to get to a parking lot and then back home was a miracle.

Not too long after the panic attack, I had intense heart palpitations accompanied by dizziness that put me into the ER. I felt as if I had a heart attack. I told the doctor all my other symptoms, and she told me I needed to see my primary care doctor. Wow, what a waste of Eight hundred dollars, because that was no help! So here I was in Cali with none of my doctors or family. We decided it was time to head home sooner than expected.

Blake had to drive the long trip from Cali to Michigan with no help as my brain worsened. Along the way home, I picked up a horrible head cold. That was the final straw for my body. By the time we made it back home to Michigan, my health had completely deteriorated. I couldn’t walk without being winded, my heart was racing, joints ached, and the fatigue had me bedridden. The fog in my brain was so thick I was losing my memory and felt like I was losing my mind.

Now also worth mentioning while in Cali, my rib cage area became inflamed to the point I could only wear True and Co. bras. Even a sports bra hurt too much to wear. I started to suspect my implants may be causing an issue; it was then I found other women’s stories of Breast Implant Illness online. I began to wonder if the fake boobs had to go!

Once home, I couldn’t get in with my regular doctor right away, so I went to a new one. I was desperate for immediate answers. We will call him Doc Hollywood. He came into the exam room dressed to the nines trying to look like a GQ model. Emphasis on the word trying because he failed miserably. He was cocky and full of himself. It made me feel so uncomfortable, but let’s remember I was desperate. As he heard my story, a small compassionate side said, “Don’t you worry, we will get you figured out.” He suspected Multiple Sclerosis and ordered a bunch of tests. As we waited for tests to come back, I tried Prozac he prescribed to calm my nerves. Unfortunately, the medicine made my insides crawl. Like I had bugs crawling around all day, and I felt as if I was being tortured. My body was in fight or flight mode, but nothing natural or prescribed would calm it down.

When my tests returned normal, I asked Doc Hollywood if all this could be from my breast implants. I tell him I found many women at that time, 60,000 plus saying they are sick from their implants. He laughs at me, looks at my mom, and tells her DO NOT let her get them out!
He then tells me not to believe a hundred (Which shows how much he listened. It was 60,000!) women I have seen on the internet and stop going online. Then he informs me I have an untreated anxiety disorder. He tells me to go for a run because I can’t tolerate any meds he prescribed!

My mother clapped back at him, questioning his anxiety disorder diagnosis. She listed all my symptoms and told him she had to walk me in the office because I was weak. He looked at her and asked if she takes any anxiety meds, implying she needed them. That is no lie! What a Doc, huh? We never went back.

I finally got in with my regular doctor. What do you think his first words were to me? How long have you had your breast implants? They could be making you sick! He tells me he’s seeing this more and more in his patients.

So I decided, ok, I have gotten no other answers than this. So these toxic silicone bags have to go. No vanity in the world is worth this kind of suffering.

Something I did to HELP my self-esteem had backfired on me; it was devastating to process.

I warned you my story was long, and I will have to do part 3!

Hang in there with me!

Continued in next post….