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RETURN
TO TABLE
OF CONTENTS Fall 2001
Individual Voices, Collective Grief The impact of recent events
on PWCs and the CFIDS community
By Kim Kenney
September 11, 2001: Our new day of
infamy. The day our biggest personal problems and greatest triumphs lost any
importance. The day the 21st century — and a new era — began. The day we
witnessed death and clung to life.
The terrorist attacks in New York,
Washington, D.C. and Pennsylvania propelled the world into a state of shock and
grieving. For people with chronic fatigue and immune dysfunction syndrome
(CFIDS), it was familiar territory. Yet the everyday haze of emotion and pain
grew even thicker as the events unfolded. Feelings of loss and uncertainty that
the illness itself brings were intensified by the destruction of property, lives
and a way of life. Symptoms that wage daily war on people with CFIDS (PWCs)
threatened stronger holds on body and mind.
Most researchers and
many people living with the illness agree that CFIDS is stress-sensitive. The
effects of life’s ups and downs are felt more intensely by, and require longer
recovery times for, PWCs. The long-term impact of Sept. 11 and its aftermath
cannot be predicted, either for healthy people or those living with CFIDS. But
the unique perspectives of PWCs and advice from CFIDS-savvy healthcare
professionals may help as we work to make sense of this uncertain new
world.
Voices I spent the morning of Sept. 11 screaming and crying at my
television, feeling completely overwhelmed and helpless. It was almost eight
hours before I had accounted for my loved ones. My healthy self would have
rushed to New York to volunteer in some way. My healthy self could have offered
legal services to survivors, or provided grief counseling, or helped with a
hundred other tasks. My CFIDS self can sit at home and pray. That’s not good
enough, and I am so disappointed in my body, which has let me down once again,
and prevented me from being the person I want to be in this
world.
—Jennie Spotila,
Pennsylvania
Shock.
Disbelief. Powerlessness. Anger. Numbness. Fear. Anxiety. According to the
National Mental Health Association, all are common responses to disaster.
Practicing psychologist, writer and PWC Katrina Berne, PhD, elaborates on why
the stress of these events poses such a hazard for PWCs: “All types of stress,
whether physical, emotional or cognitive, place tremendous demands on the body
to adapt. In the case of a global disaster, we live and relive this national and
global devastation, confronted with losses and incomprehensible and
reprehensible acts of unspeakable horror. At the same time we experience its
effects on our individual lives, where personal loss and life changes challenge
our health, increasing body-burden and putting us at risk for almost inevitable
relapse.”
Neuroendocrinologist Dr. Dimitris
Papanicolaou
of Emory
University lends a biological explanation for the increased risk of relapse or
symptom exacerbation in PWCs: “Based on the current literature, it is safe to
presume that the majority of CFS (another term for CFIDS) patients have
chronically low hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis activity (i.e., low
cortisol secretion). Such patients have been shown to demonstrate an exaggerated
psychological response to acute psychological stressors, accompanied by a higher
plasma epinephrine and norepinephrine response.”
Dr. Ronald Glaser,
director of the Behavioral Medicine Research Institute at the Ohio State
University, is a world-renowned expert on the effects of stress on the immune
system. “It is well known that acute and chronic stress can cause immune
abnormalities that can put a person at risk for infectious diseases, including
colds and flu,” he says. “This is very important if a person with CFS is also
trying to deal with the stress of new events, like the attacks and bioterrorism.
CFS patients should seek out strong, positive social support to help cope with
anxiety and uncertainty. Equally important is the buffering effect of social
support on stress induced changes in the immune response.”
I live in Miami and it
was the stress of Hurricane Andrew that pushed me over the edge of holding my
own at work to not being able to function due to the physical, emotional and
cognitive aspects of CFS. My symptoms got so much worse that I had no choice but
to go on disability. Fortunately, the national tragedy of Sept. 11 did not
directly affect my family, but indirectly we have all been touched. I am
constantly fighting to have enough energy to survive everyday life. I feel like
a walking volcano about to erupt. I have not been able to get a handle on the
depression I have felt these last two weeks. And I have been experiencing more
body aches and headaches than normal.
—Marisa Sampson, Florida
Medical providers who care for PWCs are reporting an
impact on their patients. Like the PWCs studied in south Florida after the
devastation wrought by Hurricane Andrew, they are exhibiting increased symptoms
and feelings of being completely overwhelmed. Dr. Joseph John, an infectious
disease specialist at Robert Wood Johnson Medical Center in New Brunswick, N.J.,
writes two weeks after the attacks,
“I am noticing
a major
effect of the World Trade Centers tragedy on my patients. We all are SO close
here.” Dr. John adds these observations: “Patients with CFS have their own
resilience, but upheavals of any kind produce an increase of symptoms. I have
noticed in about half my CFS patients an added sense of fatigue. The mechanism
may be the same as in disease-free patients; however, CFS produces a state in
which patients are compensating, physically and emotionally, at their max. The
extent of this disaster just totally tips them over the top.”
Coping with the aftermath Sept.
11 is more than a
day branded into history, it is a day branded into our very beings. Words are
inadequate to describe the horrific images broadcast on television and the
magnitude of suffering. We wrestle with a flood of disordered emotions, random
pieces of a puzzle we are trying to assemble.
On a very different
scale, many of us have been here before. We are the victims of CFS/ME which has
attacked our lives and worlds. We know what it is like to have our worlds pulled
out from underneath us, to constantly feel as if we are dancing on marbles. We
know what it is like to feel our safety nets have been removed. We’ve felt the
wounds of betrayal and the obscurity of the future. We struggle to cope with all
these horrors imposed by having CFS/ME, to not just survive but to bring an
equilibrium back to our lives. Many of the same survival and coping methods we
utilize to do so are the same methods necessary to cope with what the terrorists
have imposed upon us and our world.
—John Herd,
California
Survival tips for
getting through the acute stress of Sept. 11 and the chronic stress of relapse
range from the simple to the sophisticated. Nearly all experts agree that it’s
best to limit exposure to potentially traumatic images. Patricia Fennell, CSW, a
counselor to many PWCs, recommends taking in the news by radio rather than
television: “Images are very powerful and can linger to create difficulties for
you weeks later.” Return to routines as soon as possible. “The structure of your
life is very important to your well being,” Fennell adds.
Make self-care
activities like rest, good nutrition and limit-setting a priority. Dr. Berne’s
prescription is emphatic: “Once we as individuals have done what little we can
in the face of terrorism and its fallout, the area in which we have the greatest
obligation and degree of control is right at home. Without self care, we have
little or nothing to offer others. Balancing the barrage of information with
‘time out’ to focus more positively on self care allows us to normalize our
lives to some degree, although we remain vigilant and concerned. We have met the
challenges of living with relapses many times before, and the lesson, regardless
of the enormity of the trigger, remains the same.”
CFIDS researcher and
clinician Nancy Klimas, MD, of the University of Miami offers lessons from
Hurricane Andrew. “A stress like Sept. 11 is not an acute stressor, with
short-term effects. It is a chronic stressor, with long-term effects,” she says.
“These effects include immune and neuroendocrine changes and can result in
prolonged relapse of CFS symptoms. However, you can modify the effects of stress
through stress reduction measures. If you have a favorite technique (meditation,
yoga, guided imagery, music, poetry), don’t stop! Now is not the time to break
good habits and it’s a fine time to start new ones.” Community organizations,
the Internet and self-help books can be good sources of information about stress
management strategies, Dr. Klimas adds.
Leonard Jason,
PhD, a CFIDS researcher and director of the Center for Community Research at
DePaul University, suggests, “Grieving for losses can have positive effects, as
can seeking social support from friends and family members.” Dr. Klimas agrees.
“Don’t isolate yourself. E-mail is nice; human voices are better, and actual
hugs and times spent together are best,” she says. Dr. Papanicolaou reinforces
the point with research: “In a study involving 90 male firefighters it was found
that high social support was associated with faster cardiovascular and cortisol
recovery after an experimental stress. I think it is paramount that patients
with CFS draw on their social resources during these times.” Dr. Glaser’s
studies document benefits to the immune system, too.
Beverly and I were asleep when the phone
rang. It was 6:45 in Oregon, still a time at which phone calls are almost always
bad news. I knew that my daughter Becka, a week shy of her 29th birthday, was
planning to drive from her home in Pittsburgh to a convention of science
researchers in Washington, D.C. So when the phone rang, I grabbed at it in
fear.
“Dad, are you watching?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but
I was
elated
to hear her voice. “You’re all right?”
"Turn on the TV.” Slowed by typical morning
dullness, clumsy as usual after 13 years of CFIDS, not quite able to make
anything work, I fumbled for the remotes in the bedside
table.
I got the TV on, got the dish on,
but bumbled my
way toward
CNN. All the while, Becka was talking to me and I was relaying her messages to
Beverly — not an ideal way for us to communicate, but my heart was racing again
because of what Becka was saying.
Together,
the three of us
watched in horror as the scenes replayed. After Becka filled me in on the
details, we watched in silence. And all day, I kept watching.
I couldn’t stop, even though I needed
to stop. I couldn’t bear to watch, but I
had to make sure nothing else happened. I had to call Becka, she had to call me,
I had to call her.
That day, Sept. 11, 2001, and the week that followed was a
lesson in fear and anger, shock and recognition, acceptance and endurance,
despair and hope. You’d think, after all this experience at dealing with CFIDS,
these would be things I was good at. The world seemed very sick, and sick is
something I should understand. But in truth, we’re never good at horror, not if
we have souls, not if we love. I knew how lucky I was to have so much love in my
life, to have Becka and Beverly to share this with, to have loved ones all
around Ground Zero (I am from New York) who lived through it
all.
But I was stunned, as I had been stunned in the first stages
of falling sick in 1988, struggling to believe what could happen in our world.
And I knew, deep in my CFIDS self, that it was time to go very deep inside and
find endurance. Find acceptance. Because this — what I had been awakened to
watch — is the truth, this is the world we live in. — Floyd Skloot,
Oregon
There seems to be broad agreement today that
returning to “normal” is a rather nostalgic concept. Our world has forever
changed in ways we can only begin to imagine. Sept. 11 marks a new way of
living, more cautious, more vigilant, more tentative, than before. PWCs are
masters of accommodation, of acceptance, of contingency planning, of adjusting
expectations and priorities. But their challenges are even greater than they
were on Sept. 10, before the globe’s attention turned to fighting terrorism.
General relief efforts have tremendous momentum and worldwide support. The CFIDS
community is a frontier for the kind of suffering many will experience in the
wake of these disasters.
I feel the
frustration of knowing that my CFS means I can only choose a few activities per
week, and that my physical priorities are out of sync with my emotional and
spiritual ones. This is an endless conflict for me, as I’m sure it is for many
others. I’ve always shared many interests and concerns with my fellow community
members and Americans nationwide, and have struggled with the limitations CFS
imposes on my ability to participate in my
community.
Since Sept. 11, it’s become even more
obvious that there is a great need for people worldwide to bridge cultural and
religious differences, so that we may work together for healing, peace and a
better, safer future. This development changes nothing in my commitment to
conquer CFS. Rather, it signals a new urgency for broadening my life so that
there is also room for involvement as a local citizen, consumer of the media and
church member.
I do not know how I
will honor my continued commitment to CFS research and advocacy and also find a
way to participate in the diversity of my community and nation. While CFS
remains my primary concern, I trust this will work out, and we will all find
ways to reach out to others, so that we may contribute to the healing and
rebuilding of our country. — Rebecca Moore, New York
Kim Kenney is president & CEO of The CFIDS Association
of America.
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