When you live with a chronic illness a certain element of unpredictability is always there. As I’m settle into having a case that is under control (what I wouldn’t give for a term like remission but autoimmune doesn’t get terms like that) I find my body is more reliable. More days are good days and bad days can be papered over with drugs. And as an autoimmune case stabilizes you can take more risks to push through bad days without promoting a systems cascade. That means you can take more risks on a good day and have a positive outcome.
Today was a good day. It might sound strange but this was the first noticeable day where I worked a straight workday in over 18 months. I started off before 9am and didn’t wrap until 5:30. I barely broke for lunch. It’s not that I haven’t worked during my sabbatical and recovery months, but typically I try to keep a pattern of rest between work blocks. I doubt anyone feels great at 4pm but in particular I notice all my symptoms are at their worst in the later afternoon. Frankly people are onto something with siestas.
I’m honestly thrilled to have had an extended good day. I didn’t notice any major pain spikes at any point in the day. I can usually tell if I overdo it and need to rest. Sometimes it’s just a pain spike that forces me to lay down. That wasn’t the case today and even more excitingly I don’t think I dipped into any reserves to have a full day. I suspect I’ll feel fine tomorrow.
It’s honestly not that different from using up too much HP or lives in a video game. Sometimes you gotta do it but it’s expensive. And sometimes you go up against a boss and are like oh “huh” guess I’m stronger than I thought. Today I discovered I’ve actually built back up my HP. And I’ve still got all that old XP from years of grinding. It felt like I had misjudged the difficulty of a level I hadn’t played in ages. I was so sure I was going to get beat. But I sailed right though. And I’ve still got plenty of lives for whatever level I’m playing through tomorrow.
I’m feeling pretty good these days. I’ve written about my progress and my biohacking. But one area I’m not improving in is consistency. Despite meticulous record keeping and a routine I maintain assiduously, it’s almost impossible to predict when I’ll have a bad day. They appear at random!
Most days were bad days the past two or three years. The good days really stood out. I noticed them because they were rare. Now I’ve got a pretty consistent pattern of several days on and one day off. Sometimes I’ll even wrack up almost a week of good days. I used to have bad months and bad weeks. Now it’s rare for me to have more than three bad days in a row.
But I’m still regularly caught off guard by bad days. Out of the blue for no discernible reason I’m in pain, exhausted and struggling with basic function. The pain is the first symptom. Radiating out from my upper spine it pins me flat on my back in bed. About all I can manage in that state of pain is my phone over my face and the light gestures required to work a touch screen. But I don’t know why I have these bad days.
I can do everything “right” and be feeling terrific and then I’m fucked up all over again on a dime. Now I’ve got a small pharmacy I can toss at my symptoms now so I can often medicate myself back to a tolerable baseline.
The issue is what should I do once I’ve recovered? Do I rest? Build up my strength? I used to practice “active resting” where I would engage in restorative practices even when I felt well. The idea was I was building up a reserve of energy for the next crash. But was that the wrong approach?
I’m beginning to think I should take advantage of every last moment of health I have. If I feel well then screw the “active resting” I’m going to use every good minute I’ve got to pursue my goals. Active resting doesn’t seem to have any benefits I can reliably track. And it seems no more likely I’ll have a good day if I have rested then it is I will have a bad day. At best it’s marginally related to a poor night sleep but once I’ve woken up to face the day the day is cast there isn’t it?
I hate that I’m unreliable. I hate that I can’t track triggers. Doctors have seemed largely sanguine on the issue. Some days will just be bad. Sometimes your immune response will be off. But I’m feel lost and angry that I don’t know how I can live life without some degree of predictability. The only thing I can rely on is that on good days I feel good. So maybe I should just pack shit in on those days. No restorative crap. Just go hard at my goals. I’m not sure this is a good plan. It’s probably a bad one. It could just be my addiction to work talking now that my mind knows my body can handle my hard living again. At least for a few days. But if hard living doesn’t produce predictable crashes then what should my takeaway be? Fuck if I know.
I’m getting the sense that a lot more people suffer from general poor health than we let on. When I discuss my own struggles my inbox blows up with fellow suffers of autoimmune conditions. People are fatigued, in pain, mentally sluggish and often struggle with adjacent symptoms like chronic inflammation or gastrointestinal ailments.
Please know you are not alone. As it’s rarely considered socially acceptable to be sick (it’s own issue) I’m going to use my position of privilege to discuss how I’ve hacked my way from completely disabled to about 90% healthy. I’m here to share what luck, power, and wealth have given to me so others with less may succeed like I have.
Step 1: Diagnostic Baseline
It’s really hard to do anything when you are sick and trust me I hate being told well nothing is wrong so maybe just lose weight, exercise and eat healthy. Like sure you fuckers I haven’t considered yoga. Fuck all the way off. But alas it’s true that in order to navigate modern medicine you need a baseline. Go to a GP and ask for a full blood work up. A blood test is typically composed of three main tests: a complete blood count, a metabolic panel and a lipid panel. Read up on what you might see on a typical blood panel. This article is a good place to start (I am not a patient of theirs and do not endorse them for care it’s just a reference).
Step 2: Pick Your Tools and Measurements
If it is possible (lots of folks suffering from chronic fatigue can’t) start on the basics. Order a tracker like a Fitbit, Oura Ring, Apple Watch or Whoop. Then pick an app that can help organize your data. I personally use Gyroscope. My tracking stack is a Whoop for strain & recovery and an Apple Watch for more generalized tracking like sleep, sleep and heart rate monitor. I use MyFitnessPal for food tracking. Strong for workout tracking. Calm for mindfulness, and Gyroscope syncs it for one dashboard. I also use an app called Welltory which uses HRV & blood pressure from monitoring it does in application as well as through syncing with Apple Watch.
An iPhone application folder with wellness apps including Gyroscope, Welltory, LifeCycle, Apple Fitness, Calm, Whoop, Endel, MyFitnessPal & Apple Health.
I also track my symptoms in a journal app called Day One as it’s the lowest friction place I can do simple logging of metrics like pain, mood and energy levels. I also use Google Sheets to keep track of my medications and supplements as I take upwards of 25 different pills and remedies a day (trust me I wish it didn’t work). While there is a lot of variance on workouts I always get hour of low impact walking (3 miles a day), ten minutes of mindfulness, and all my supplements. Like I never miss a pill. I’m happy to discuss my supplement stack with folks but here is a basic guideline of what I take that is provably good.
Step 3: Steadily Improve
Most people overdo it. You try to change a bunch of stuff all at once. Or you dive right into a big change. This is too overwhelming. And it can make you feel sicker (some folks call it a healing crisis). Just pick one metric and improve it by 10% over a week. Pick one activity you will do for 30 straight days. I said I’d write every day and here it is day 91. (Edit, I updated my stack on this post to reflect current use on day 355). The point is you can’t improve everything all at once.
Part of my success is simply telling myself I was going to run the experiment even if it was a failure. Biohacking requires that you don’t change up your variables too often or too quickly. You need to establish trend lines. The biggest mistake you can make is being “noisy” as you will never isolate the meaningful variables. And you won’t stick to it. So it’s a double fuck up. Clean reliable data matters. Don’t change too much too fast.
Step 4: Try Common Experiments
You don’t need to reinvent the wheel. Coming up with unique experiments probably won’t be necessary till you are well along your biohacking journey. My elaborate tests didn’t really start till this year after two full years of tracking. Start with common experiments others have shown to work. Fasting is a great place to start for metabolic health and fat loss. Walking makes a big difference in your resting heart rate. Being active once an hour has proven metabolic benefits. Try intermittent fasts and then if you see a benefit you can progress to 72 hour water fasts. Adding more protein to your diet is popular for a reason. Start with 20 grams at a meal and work up to a gram per ounce of your goal body weight. Eating more protein tends to shift your diet away from lower quality calories as it’s hard to eat a whole chicken breast and then eat a bunch of fried potatoes. Though I have tried. Work in supplements for whatever your bloods showed you to be borderline on. Vitamin D deficiency is common. If want to sleep deeper try magnesium at night. If you are tired B vitamins are proven. If mental acuity is your goal CoQ10, green tea and ginseng work for many people. Metformin is the top metabolic drug for a reason. If your lipid panel said you needed to lose weight or you have metabolic syndrome Metformin is your first stop. Like I said, there are a lot of proven hacks you can test out and incorporate into your life right now. Don’t be intimidated just work an experiment that has a high probability of success.
Anyone can begin biohacking with a goal, basic tools, and some patience. I’ve taken myself pretty far in the past three years. I’ve had great doctors but some of my success comes down to being willing to experiment with my body.
The American attitude towards healthcare leans heavily towards pharmaceuticals. Much of what ails us might be mitigated by nutrition, supplements, exercise or physical treatments. But we tend to prioritize a “one and done” approach that lends itself to prescriptions for any ailment you can pinpoint. It’s not unusual to be on upwards of ten pills a day if you are chronically ill each one treating a distinct symptom. You mostly pray they don’t have any interactions and that the cure isn’t worse than the disease especially when it comes to drugs like opioids that can form dependencies.
I’m not entirely opposed to this approach if I’m being honest. A wholistic approach is a lot of work and when you are sick having the energy to do a bunch of shit is unrealistic. Even as I’m rounding the corner on controlling my autoimmune disease I still find it time consuming and often exhausting to manage all aspects of my health. The meal planning, the physical therapy, the body work, the exercise protocols, the sleep regimens, the supplement routines (mine easily costs upwards of $500 a month and no it’s not covered by insurance) and the nonstop recording and monitoring is practically a full time job. And you can’t even tell if it’s working half the time with crashes and system cascades that require heavy duty intervention. It’s hard to spot signal in the noise but that doesn’t mean it’s not there
Being sick in America feels surprisingly similar to being a startup founder. You get dismissed constantly. The workload rarely relents. And progress is only visible if you are diligent about monitoring core metrics that might reveal a trend line. It’s no wonder that entrepreneurs can be avid biohackers. We record and measure and monitor and hope that some higher authority (a physician or a venture capitalist) will spot the the key inflection point that may change our lives.
I have over 1,000 recorded data points just on my usage of pain medications and it’s correlation to my functionality. Despite my meticulous tracking and my adherence to protocols, I regularly have encounters with medical professionals that discount what I have to say. Like a founder I may be an expert on my “startup” but a physician or other expert has a lot more longitudinal data. The question ends up being do you as the operator (or the patient) have some insight the professionals do not? Honestly it’s hard to tell. Being wrong is pretty common. Doctors and venture capitalists know this. So do you as the patient or founder. Trust in these interactions can be low because of this.
Unlike with a company where you can walk away, being a patient means you are stuck with it. I have to work through the blocks as if I don’t I’m resigning myself to a life of illness. Which isn’t to say I can’t tolerate being ill and disabled, merely that I don’t believe that “this is as good as it gets.” I’m happy with my life but I do believe it’s within my control to do and be more.
For me this has meant juggling the pharmaceuticals that control symptoms but don’t heal me alongside an elaborate functional medicine and biohacking routine. I think of these drug for symptom regimens a cash flow business that can do well but will always remain the business that it is without a creative owner pushing for more.
I don’t want to just run my “business” even if it might be a self sustaining one. I’m at a point where yeah I can live like this for the rest of my life. But I want more than having a store or a service. So I test. And I experiment. And I throw tons of time after protocols and treatments that may be woo or bullshit. Or they may in fact be the turning point that lets me be more. And if it is then it’s all worth it. Much of what I’ve done has been worth it. But how the fuck do you determine that in a system that has so little interest beyond simple solutions like a pill? If I had the answer I’d tell you. Until I do I’m spending my time on machines that shoot electromagnetic pulses into my spine and glugging down micronutrient slurries. I hope the hacks turn into sustainable growth channels. But I could have just waisted a few hours on nothing. Until then I’ll record the data and hope the trend line reveals something.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to act on a doctor’s opinion (literally every doctor) when I can think critically about any other form of authority. I’ve got some kind of deep seated fear of disobeying a physician’s suggestions in a way I just don’t with others traditional authority figures and I wish I could break it. American doctors love to prescribe drugs for every random symptom or blood result. And I’m fearful to say no. Even though I know I can’t be on about half of what I’m given
Absolutely had a anxiety moment this morning as I’m due for a metabolic blood work up and I am not sure I have the energy for the shaming if I “fail” that my endocrinologist will throw at me. I’m a healthy weight but I was overweight earlier this year and I leave in fear of that fat shaming coming back. At this point I just let her prescribe the drugs and don’t take it all. I’m sure I’m in for a lecture about some thing.
I didn’t used to keep much of a routine. Startup life and Manhattan nightlife made for a lot of variability in my days. But the trick of losing your body to sickness means that you don’t need the novelty of nightclubs or the emotional highs of startup life.
My body now provides all kinds of surprises all on its own. I can feel terrific one day and the next for no apparent reason I’m practically immobile from pain. The frequency has gone down significantly this year thanks to modern medicine and a lot of biohacking but let’s just say I’m grateful I work on the internet so no one cares if I’m flat on my back typing in bed.
But one things I’ve found to be extremely helpful in managing the foibles of an unreliable body is a deliberate routine. I honestly wish I had learned the value of routine earlier in life. Maybe I’d be healthy now if I had shown the same dedication to supplements, exercise, meditation and sleep. Objectively that’s probably unlikely as some stuff is just chance and generics but man when you find something that works you want to retcon your whole life.
But there is a downside to routine. You cannot get sucked into work manias because you have to stop to meditate or take a supplement or get in a workout. Routines keep you from meandering as you can fill a whole day with good behavior. But life sometimes needs more randomness than a strict day of check lists. Today I felt like an entire disappeared to my routine and while physically I feel well I’m not entirely sure I got anything done despite having taking all my pills on time. I lost time between all the good things I was going to keep stable. Sometimes I worry that all this effort will keep me from the creativity and serendipity of a life lived without good habits. But then I might end up sick and back in bed so I hope it’s a fair trade. But I still worry I’d rather lose time to work binges or nights out.
I default to action over inaction. Don’t know if something will work? Try it!
I’ve never struggled with paralysis by analysis. I intake a lot of information and then even if I’m not sure I’m entirely correct I’ll still jump if I’m confident I’m directionally correct. This had proved to be a good recipe for startup work and financial gain. But I’m learning this methodology is fairly shitty for health.
Medicine needs a little more patience and a lot more precision. Data points accumulate and you can only effectively progress if you can isolate what is causing distress. I fucking hate this. I want to throw a thousand drugs and supplements and protocols at my body and just move “directionally” towards health. Portfolio theory doesn’t really work on autoimmune diseases as it turns out.
Thanks to an incredible functional health doctor I have been making fast strides in my quest to control my autoimmune disease. My pain has been under control, my spinal swelling is down, my energy is up and my focus is clear. So I was particularly frustrated last week when adding a new drug to my regimen wasn’t clearly “correct” and I had no way to tell if it was directionally correct. I just have to wait it out.
I had terrible migraines. My pain spiked. My sleep suffered. And all I wanted to do was throw more drugs and supplements at the symptoms so I could get back to life. I have been doing more investing, advising more companies, and taking on more personal projects. I didn’t want to lose that. I love working.
But unlike with startup life I can’t just muscle through it and see if my bet will pay off. We have to be careful. Systemic cascades are bad in biology. Think cytokine storms and covid19 cases. I could easily undue all this progress in my pursuit of action over inaction. We need to be more certain that my body can handle this new drug regimen and winging it isn’t an option.
So I’m stuck being patient (pun not intended). I can’t push it. Directionally correct isn’t good enough. And that means slowing down so I can go fast later. In some areas you need higher degrees of certainty.
I was raised in a “walk it off” family where my father got walking pneumonia like clockwork once a year. Working through it was just what tough Scandinavians braving the world did. We are tough people that can ride out the indignities of physical existence.
I find myself saddled with that self limiting belief to this day. Even as I recognize the importance of restorative rest for building physical and emotional gains. It’s hard to let go of the addictive tendency to prioritize pushing the work when you should be recuperating.
I’ve been trying out an an antibiotic that just doesn’t agree with my stomach. I found myself with a mess on my hands and the kind of emotional exhaustion that only comes from physical embarrassment. I soiled myself and I just wanted to shower and take a nap. But I had calls so I pushed through as I was excited to hear a pitch from a founder. Afterwards I was a mess. I had dug into my energy reserves and was starring down a migraine and a panic attack. Wisely I got myself in bed and took a few hours to get back to a baseline. Called my doctor and asked if there was a different option which there was.
I’m jealous of people for whom daily life isn’t a constant balancing act of scheduled obligations and exciting opportunities butting up against the reality that bodies are unreliable and even fragile. I’d give anything not to constantly have the back of my mind taken to with supplements, medications, treatments, tallies of how long I’ve got before I need a break. To be free of the many bodily concerns that have come to define my existence. Oh how I envy those that never worry about what new thing their frailty will bring them today.
The feelings passed and I was able to go for a long hike in the snow in the afternoon. But the fear of never knowing when my body will go from reliable to requiring help is a burden I’d like to give up. I’m hard at work trying to make it a reality.
The chronic disease landscape is a surprisingly contentious one. Despite significant numbers of Americans suffering from autoimmune, rheumatoid, and inflammatory conditions, the general practitioner population is often hostile to to patients who come in with vague but debilitating symptoms of pain and fatigue.
I’m lucky. I was given a diagnosis relatively early in my health care journey, but I still spent a fair amount of time getting dismissed. I got offered every psychiatric drug in the book (and happily accepted since pharmaceuticals will be good trading in doomer times), but took months before someone ran a useful biomarker panel that gave me a diagnostic direction. I’ve learned that my case is more complex than my initial diagnosis but I’ve nevertheless leaned heavily on being one of the privileged in chronic care that had a diagnosis and clinical work to lean on. Not everyone is so lucky.
Because of this experience, I keep very close tabs on the controversies and infighting in academic medicine. So I was thrilled to see a ‘blue check’ institutional voice discussing the frustrations that come with chronic disease in a heartfelt opinion piece by Ross Douthat in The New York Times. He used long haul COVID to introduce the many controversies surrounding Lyme disease (which I didn’t not know he suffered from) and his own journey back to full health. He discussed the anxiety and exhaustion of being told you have a disease with symptoms will never go away.
The Hidden Cause of the Autoimmune Pandemic and How to Get Better Again,” written by Dr. Steven Phillips, a Lyme practitioner and researcher, and one of his patients, the musician Dana Parish. The book makes the case that the spread of what the authors call Lyme+, an array of tick-borne pathogens that often infect patients simultaneously, is responsible not just for the more than 400,000 cases of Lyme disease diagnosed each year in the United States but also for an unknown number of chronic infections beyond that — undiagnosed or misdiagnosed and left untreated because of a combination of testing failures, institutional bias and the horrible complexity of the diseases themselves.
He writes with a surprise amount of nuance and empathy (not something I associate with him or editorial) and covers a lot of ground.
While I’m officially an autoimmune and rheumatoid patient, I’ve been slowly working my way into the chronic infection space as I’ve tackled more and more of my symptoms. It turns out that inflammatory autoimmune diseases like ankylosing spondylitis (my official diagnosis) and reactive rheumatoid conditions often overlap in clinical presentation with trigger infections that rarely get caught. I only saw significant improvement in my associated symptoms once I went further into some of the treatments Douthat discussed.
Some of it feels like woo and some is just not fully settled science. It’s all extremely frustrating to live through and has required significant time and financial resources. I’ve often felt like giving up as so much of the medical establishment tends towards “learn to live with it” attitudes. I have simply refused to live a life bedridden, exhausted and in constant pain even if doctors have said that’s as good as I’m going to get. I’ve had ups and downs as the pandemic has gotten in the way of access and treatment but I’ve generally made progress.
I cannot tell you how gratifying it is to see institutional heft and loud voices discuss what I’ve come to associate with dismissed and discounted communities. Frankly it’s nice to have a white man talk about it as much of the chronic community is made up of women. I know it sounds stupid but we just take men like Ross more seriously than we take women like me. And I’m at the very top of the food chain of women being upper class and white so I get taken relatively seriously compared to many patient populations. But nothing validates quite like a blue check dude saying yeah I’m living through this too.
The saga of the specialty doctor continued this morning. To recap quickly my doctor wants me to see a specialist for an urgent medication but the clinic didn’t have any appointments till mid April. So I said I’d take any cancellations. Apparently this guy is in such demand a 23 minute lag time has me missing out on a canceled appointment. So carrying on, I got a call at 8am from a Denver number. “This is the clinic we have a cancellation at 11am can you make it in?” This time I’m smart enough to say yes immediately. I hadn’t rebooked my calendar so I was available.
I spent the morning organizing supplement and pharmacy charts, brought in my biomarkers and a list of tests. I worked myself into a small frenzy coordinating with my doctor on what information and part of my medical history needed to be brought up in the short appointment as my case is complex. No need to bring up unnecessary or extraneous detours. I could feel myself unraveling. I took an Ativan after throwing a pile of books off a chair in a fit of frustration to get a better angle at the laptop. It was at that point I realized I might have some medical trauma spooling out.
I say this not to insinuate I have unchecked anxiety or am concerned about my mental health but to say that even the most stoic can quickly find themselves unraveling in the Kafka logic of our medical industrial complex. The people tasked with healing us are burdened by a system that is poorly suited to anything that can’t be solved with acute care. Break a bone or need emergency care and you can’t go wrong with western medicine. Add any additional complexity to their already onerous system and you may wish you had a broken bone instead. Finding a way to through the maze requires willpower and focus just when you are at your weakest.
Add in a dose of chronic care and health quickly becomes a discussion of just how much better to you expect your life to be. Maybe this is as good as it gets. You ask yourself why do I bring trauma into my life? Why bring on the stress of yet another specialist when it may get you just another dead end. Even with a good diagnosis, and an excellent doctor pain, exhaustion, and other “irritating” but but not life threatening symptoms get to be things you start to accept. You live with debilitating issues because getting good care can sometimes be worse for your health than living with it.
Except I’m not good at taking no for an answer. I don’t stop just because a hurdle or even a panic attack gets thrown in my way. I keep plugging away. I’m what you might call resilient. Still I know medical systems have become places I associate with trauma. But I keep at it.
This is how I’ve become someone that swipes my credit card for $900 in supplements and no longer turns my nose up at esoteric and unproven treatments like cold therapy or electromagnetic pulses. I want to be 90% better not just “can get out of bed” better. I can work 5-6 hours a day now. I want to get back to 10-12. Even though I know my half day is more productive than most people’s whole days. Because I just don’t accept that what I’ve got is good enough. Even when the search for health unravels me. Because progress is something that you work at every day. Even with the setbacks. Especially because of the setbacks.
