The hypermobile Christmas wish list

The number one Christmas gift would obviously be new joints and more collagen, but I don't think Santa has that in his sleigh. If I was writing a Christmas list on behalf of my body, it would go a little something like this:

1)  Beurer cosy heat pad- When I saw this online a few weeks ago I instantly knew I wanted it. It looks big and quite odd, but I don't care. The cold makes everything worse for hypermobility. My lower back and shoulders have been aching non-stop for about a month now. This is apparently better than a hot water bottle, which is my go-to for joint pain in winter, so I would be hugely intrigued to see if it makes a difference. Let's face it, this contraption looks like the dream for hypermobile sufferers and is a world away from my general Christmas list of make up and the whole of Top Shop, but needs must.

2) Harley original supportive neck pillow- I had a lot of discussion with my last physio therapist about neck pillows. Most of my pain is my shoulders and neck, which I know is common among the bendy community. They are apparently, if you get the right one, a real treat. Also I reckon a good one would help with the waking up in the night stuck in one position because I have gone completely stiff. I've seen this recommended on a couple of blogs so when I get one, I think it this will be pillow of choice. They also come in loads of sizes, even travel. Everyone loves choice. 

3) Deep Heat products- Basically, all of the products, particularly a large stash of heat patches, would be be ideal. Deep Heat has long been a good friend to my back and shoulders. I have to keep an emergency heat patch collection in my desk at work. They stay hot for about 8 hours and sometimes in the winter it's just nice to wear one to be warm, or stuff in your pocket to defrost your fingers.

4) Reiki- This is a bit out there, and may be a massive gamble, but I really want to try Reiki. In a nut shell, its a Japanese technique for stress reduction that promotes healing. My friend, who is a holistic therapist and hypermobile, recently went and had it done as part of a training course. Her account was that she left feeling straighter than she had in years. I've tried all manner of massage, and some have helped. I know you are often warned to steer clear of this type of thing with hypermobility, but I am too curious. I am going to take the plunge in 2015, so a review will be imminent. I've been recommended a place and a guy, so it's happening (hopefully) here: http://benbarnett.co.uk/classes/m-and-b-approach/ 

5) The Sleep Book- How to sleep well every night- My sleep varies from being completely fine to completely dreadful. It's been pretty poor lately, mostly because I can't get comfortable. Sometimes it isn't down to pain though, and I've seen this book mentioned on Twitter by some sleepy heads.

Pilates and hypermobility

Pilates is the gym class of choice for hypermobility. That's a massive sweeping statement, as everyone is different and some won't be able to do it at all, but when you ask at appointments or physio sessions, it's always the recommended one. I was always keen on being swept up in the yoga craze but my physio told me I would make everything a million times worse for myself if I did. I'm not sure if it was me being stubborn about the condition stopping me from doing something, or just that I found other things to help, but pilates has passed me by for ages. Until now.

Three weeks ago I finally took the plunge. Wednesday is now, and shall be known from now on, as pilates day. I'm hoping to keep it up for as long as I can because it really is helpful. I go to the gym and do all manner of exercise, but I never feel as good as I do after pilates.

The ache the next day is the good kind. The sort of 'I know this is doing something positive' ache. The first time I went I was slightly alarmed at the cracking and clicking noises flying out of my joints and the fear kicked in. I did have shoulder pain, as I do every time I put pressure on them, but it's lessened with every session and I am confident it is doing me the world of good. I feel less stiff and my joints the next day feel stronger, which I am hoping will be a long-term change.

The instructor focuses a lot on taking everything 'slo-o-o-o-w-l-y' and 'straightening yourself one vertebra at a time.' This attention to movement actually taught me a lot about how much I rush my joints. I can do so much more and have a lot more balance when I take every move extra slow. It's also very relaxing, which is good for anyone.

If you often feel like you need a good stretch and to click out a few joints, give it a go. I think my weak upper body was a bit shocked at first and I did have to hold back on a few positions, but my fourth session will be the one where I try everything.

You should obviously mention it to your instructor before you start, and a good one will ask if there is anything they should know. They don't need to be professionals in hypermobility to tell you to take your time and you know that anyway.

Two levels run at my gym, and I think that beginners will suit me for quite some time time. The general feeling among my joints after class two was 'WE LIKE THIS.'

A few terms like 'downwards facing dog' were thrown out there which I thought were exclusive to yoga, but I can just about handle them. Don't be scared to try it out. You can always stop halfway through if you feel like it's doing more harm than good.

I'm going to try a few different classes out across London in January and I can see a love affair forming in my mind already.

5 things invisible illness sufferers do better than anyone

1) Be tired
When people get in from a long, hard day and kick their shoes off to a chorus of 'I AM SO TIRED', they really have no idea. Lots of invisible illnesses, like POTs, fibro, EDS and HMS, come with fatigue. It's not so much feeling tired, as feeling like you absolutely have to be laying down with your eyes shut immediately or you will just fall over. It just hits you like a train. There you are, going about your business, working, gardening, reading, whatever, and BAM. You are so absolutely exhausted it's as if you've not been to bed in a year. Your head feels like it's been pumped full of hot air and twice the weight it was a minute ago. Now that is tired. Really tired.

2) Poker face
There are times when you are doing something normal, say sitting at a desk at work, when suddenly a body part will explode with burning pain for no apparent reason. No one around would ever know, because you just smooth over it, try not to move, keep calm, and carry on. Dealing with chronic pain leaves you a good poker face. You can be feeling a lot of 'OUCH OH MY GOD' on the inside, but on the outside you look cool, calm and collected. Of course sometimes you can't contain it, and the bad days are bad, but you can regularly look utterly normal, perhaps even really well, when in reality everything hurts and you can't get out of your chair or even lift a cup. You'll have to be forgiven for the slight twinge of crazy when you flash someone a smile.

3) Appreciate
The good days are there to be used and used bloody well. Being cornered by illness and feeling like it dictates life awakens you to a sense of gratitude and appreciation most people don't know exist. Feeling almost brought to tears when a hot water bottle starts to ease your back ache or barely believing your luck when you can have a day out with family makes you thankful. SO thankful. You appreciate everything a million times more than is logical and really routine, average things can make your day.

4) Sleep badly
Sleeping badly is not taking an hour to drift off and waking up a few times. Sleeping badly is taking time to find a position you can lay in, waiting to see if you can stay in that position, hoping you can fall asleep, not falling asleep because you have to continually move, waking up in need of painkillers or to take medication, dislocating a joint from rolling over.....The list goes on. Chronic illness and sleep is a battle and no one fights quite like sufferers of these conditions. Painsomnia. Not fun.

5) Play it down
I used to wonder sometimes how people would feel if I could transfer all my symptoms to them for just ten minutes. Dealing with invisible illness, such as Ehlers-Danlos hypermobility, can test the patience of you and everyone around you. More often than not you probably play it down. Tell people you're okay and carry on with day-to-day life when really it's not okay at all. You're in pain, you're distressed, anxious, stressed, forgetful, brain-fogged and so tired. It's tougher than anyone can imagine, but playing it down to seem not so bad at all becomes quite the talent.

Comfort- as told by hypermobility

Being comfortable with hypermobility- a pretty enormous feat for most. My last three really bad flare ups reminded me just how important it is to be comfortable. Sleeping, sitting, working, exercising- all of these can be a real struggle. It's important to spend time finding out exactly what helps you and your condition the most. For me, it's the things below- A comfortable bed, a big, squashy chair with good support, something to do to take your mind off it, like reading, hot water bottles and deep heat to relieve sore joints and of course a good old mug of tea.

There are lots of 'self-care' tips out there for hypermobility sufferers, and comfort is a very important part of this. As much as sleep hygiene, being healthy, doing as much as exercise as you can and eating well are important, so is being able to lay down at night and feel you can get proper rest.

NHS choices provide a few important comfort hints, including footwear, applying heat and resting. Get comfortable! As weird as it sounds, because of course you make yourself comfy, not many people put enough thought into how they can improve it, particularly sleep. Winters are for comfort eating, drinking and snuggling, so treat your joints to extra comfort too.

What does your condition mean to you?

Suffering from an invisible illness can be extremely isolating. Knowing there are others out there the same who are fighting similar battles can be a great deal of comfort. This is something that people mention again and again on forums, Facebook groups, through charities, Twitter and on other blogs that I read. It is a recurring theme. It's almost like a daisy chain, precariously joined together, people support one another and the chain keeps getting bigger. It needs to continue getting bigger for things to improve on other levels, like medicine, doctors and professional support.

Everyone handles their illness differently. While symptoms may be the same, no two people are completely identical in the way they live with chronic illness. The words below are from three different people, from three different parts of the world. They have given three key words and a short summary of how they feel about their condition. They speak different languages and live different lives, but they are united in one thing- fighting their condition. 

Lacey:

 Progressive, unknown, annoying

My hypermobility pain has increased significantly over the last two years and I was misdiagnosed and therefore mistreated for eight years before getting the correct diagnosis. I am still being bounced around different hospital departments trying to get to a specialist in order to manage the condition. I try to manage it as best I can and my current top tip is sleeping with a pillow in front of my stomach like a pregnant woman to prevent a recurring trapped nerve in my spine!

Mendy:

party tricks, pain, planning

I’m always in pain, always tired and although the doctors told me it would get better with age, I find that my joints keep popping out of my sockets more. With every activity I want to do I need to plan, either take more painkillers or have more sleep, have more recovery and say no to things more often. This is my life. I’m not sad about it. I was born with hypermobility. It’s only a shame that this is something not visible from the outside. I've lost friends over the years who haven't understood why I wasn’t able to go to birthdays or social gatherings. In my book, those aren’t friends. I live my life to the fullest, do whatever I can. I work, have my own house, lovely friends, nice hobbies and I’m happy. I’m not my hypermobility, I am Mendy with the funny joints.

Jay:

Falling apart inside

EDS has single-handedly taken away so much from my life, but at the same time gifted me an abundance of maturity and understanding at a very young age. Having such a dramatic, hidden change to your life can obviously be dizzying and the lack of research and understanding for such a difficult condition to live with is extremely frustrating; but what this means is the people I've met and spoken to with EDS are some of the most courageous and resilient people you could imagine. They have for the most part become their own doctors and created a community of people who know how hard it is to live with EDS who support each other tremendously. And for that I am grateful.

I would really like to receive more of these short pieces from people who suffer invisible illnesses and live with chronic pain. If you want to contribute to a future post please email laurenrellis010@gmail.com  

Learning to grin and bear it

Those who live with chronic pain know that it isn’t about stopping it, it’s about learning to manage it. Pain management is no easy feat. It can be a long, daily struggle that takes over life. Life is pain and pain is life. This is not exactly a mantra that anyone wants to live by. The thing with pain is that it can consume you. It’s important to remember that pain is a part of life and although at times it definitely can, it doesn’t rule you. A lesson all those with hypermobility syndrome, Ehlers Danlos, fibro and other chronic conditions learn.

Those who live with painful conditions, especially ones where treatment is difficult to receive in general, it becomes a case of how you work around it. When I first got symptoms of hypermobility syndrome, it was painful to breathe. Shallow breathing became my norm, because I just learned to deal with it. Working full time was hard, not knowing what all this pain was and being referred to people who ultimately, by no fault of their own, couldn’t help me. One thing I remember most clearly from the first year, was learning to grin and bear it.

It took a while. Lots of painkillers were consumed and injections injected and examinations carried out. It interrupted work and put me in a low mood and probably made those close to me think I was mad, or attention seeking, or a hypochondriac. You know how it is. Soon though, I stopped using my right shoulder as much as possible. No more bags, no more carrying shopping, no swimming, no running, no stretching. The less movement, the less pain. I breathed differently, typed differently, slept differently.

For some people, the pain is in more than one place. I only had to deal with one body part at a time when the pain was at its worst and I am so thankful for that. I don’t know  how others carry on when they are in pain practically all over. They do carry on though. As much as you can, you get on with it. I remember thinking of the pain as a tag-along. Obviously unwelcome, but soon it just existed. Sometimes there, sometimes (on good days) not there at all, sometimes really painful, sometimes not too bad.

I think you do learn to exist alongside it. I'm not saying you make peace entirely, but you do what you can to still be you. Some people may not be able to carry on and be as active as others, but I'm sure they do as much as possible. I'm not sure if you can actually overcome pain, maybe some people think you can. But I do believe, to some extent, sometimes, you can grin and bear it.

I worked through my worst time, not always all day and sometimes I would leave to have appointments and see doctors, but I did go in. I eventually made it to my favourite music festival (thanks to very strong friends who could lug my stuff as well as their own), went on holiday and moved on with my career. I used to wake up and get so angry about the stupid, throbbing pain in my shoulder and back that I didn't even think about normal everyday things. But you come a long way when you're up against it. The body can still support you, even when it seems to be doing all it can to go against you. Now, most  of the time, normal things like dog walking, holidays and commuting and working aren't affected by pain. The times they are, I like to just lay on the floor and make some jokes until the episode subsides. I obviously move to the bed if it lasts too long though. Comfort is king.

6 ways you know you have an invisible illness

1)      You wake up in the morning looking and feeling fine. All is going well and you think this might be a good day for you. A day where you can get things done and feel like a normal, functioning member of society. Half hour later you are falling apart, things hurt for no logical reason, you can’t quite make it into the shower and you consider putting painkillers in your tea. You still look fine though, and you can't decide if this is good or bad.

2)      You approach inanimate objects with an air of extreme caution. You can’t just throw yourself onto a sofa or jump into bed because who knows what the consequences will be. Waking up in the mornings on a beautiful day and throwing open the curtains is far too dangerous. Your shoulder could come out of its socket and ruin the whole day. Sometimes you also need to mentally prepare to shower. It’s not a decision to be taken lightly.

3)      You experience deep and confusing emotions If you feel well enough to let your hair down and have a few (or a lot) of drinks at the weekend. While most hung-over revelers wake up on Sunday worrying they have drunk-texted someone they shouldn’t or accidentally phoned their boss, you wake up too scared to move. Who knows what damage you might have done while having fun? You have to slowly and carefully make your way to the kitchen to re-hydrate and eat all manner of carbs. If you have got away with it you then begin to feel invincible and consider doing other activities that you normally avoid before realise your head hurts too much and you go back to bed.

4)      Explanation exhaustion. Telling people who aren’t aware invisible illness exists or can’t quite comprehend them becomes tiring very quickly. You may even have devised a short, concise script of what to say when someone asks why you were off sick or why you can’t get out of your chair.

5)      Planning is something you have to do with great care. You never know when symptoms will flare up and mean you can’t go on your day out or go visit your friend or even go for dinner. Plans are for days when you feel good and you know your body will last the duration. You also have to ensure your friends and family understand your condition so they can’t hit you with ‘but you LOOK fine, maybe you can come for a while?’ 

6) You often have to face the injustice of feeling hungover when not so much as a drop of wine has passed your lips. Waking up with a raging headache, joint pain, shaking, needing painkillers just to face the shower. All of these are followed by the overwhelming urge to shout 'WHY ME? WHY? WHY?' but instead you just get on with it and start your day the best you can because you are a God damn warrior. 

5 problems hypermobile people encounter

1)      Being told “You don’t look unwell”

Probably the main problem with hypermobility syndrome is that unless you are in a sling, on crutches or in a wheelchair, you probably look like you are physically fine. Even when people mean well, being told you look fine when you feel the complete opposite is probably the most frustrating comment. It should be socially acceptable to shout ‘IT’S AN INVISIBLE ILLNESS’ directly at people who assess you entirely on how you look. Or just hold up a sign when the shouting gets old.

2)      Informing doctors what hypermobility syndrome is and that you aren’t imagining it

I've heard many stories and read accounts of lots of sufferer’s health care since starting this blog. A common grievance that comes up time and time again is that you have to continually explain to a string of doctors, sometimes even specialists, what your condition is. Those with Ehlers Danlos will often hear doctors say they've ‘heard of it’ but will then realise that’s where the knowledge ends. I've had this problem myself many times and have even had my GP giggle delightedly at my ‘backwards’ arm and tell me what a great party trick it is. Er, that’s wonderful, but please refer me to someone to stop the pain yeah? Someone who CAN ACTUALLY help please!

3)      Suddenly putting a join out and realising you need help

I was once walking home, in the cold and dark, from visiting family when my hip came out for the first time. I had no idea then that I had any sort of condition, let alone that I was hypermobile. I had to call my parents for help and explain I needed a lift home because I literally couldn't walk. The only thing that showed up on the x-ray was some swelling, which was never followed up. This happened again recently when I was at work in a busy diabetes clinic and had to stop in the middle of seeing a patient to say ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but my hip is out of place.’ It’s not ideal. It’s also quite hard to approach someone in public to help you as they will most likely look at you like you’re an alien and bemusedly lead to you to a bench.  It’s also always fun and games when you wake up having knocked something out of place in your sleep and explain to your friends while you are laying on the floor, then ask them to brush your hair for you.

4)      Doing everyday household tasks

An obvious one, but this is so unbelievably annoying. My shoulders are my worst behaved joints and on bad days basically all normal daily tasks become a massive pain (literally) in the neck. Hoovering? No. Changing the bed? No. Washing your hair? No. Peeling vegetables? No. Carrying anything that weighs more than about 5 pounds? Absolutely not. I recently spent a Saturday lying flat on the floor smelling profusely of Deep Heat and applying heat patches to my back while my friends made me tea and assured me it would ease off soon. All I needed to do was shower and get dressed. Out of the question. Oh life.

5)      How many painkillers have I taken?

More organised and efficient hypermobile sufferers will probably be much better with medications than me. As I often am lucky enough to go by without pain relief at the moment, when I do have a bad day I remember just how tough it really is. You basically become a walking-talking albeit very drowsy pill-popper. When I got my first big flare up I spent most days counting down the time until the next pain killer, then forgetting which I could take and trying to avoid sleeping on my desk, on the floor and on the stairs. Anywhere that looked a bit like I could lay really. 

On Hypermobility and Ehlers Danlos research…and what happens next

You don’t know me, but my name’s Dan. You probably know my girlfriend though: about yea high, brown hair, goes by ‘Lauren’, writes about hypermobility.

Anyway, I asked if she’d mind if I wrote a guest blog about medical research currently ongoing into the 24-hour party that is Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and about communication.

London’s Charring Cross Hospital is running a 16-week trial for patients suffering with anterior knee pain, while at the Hypermobility Clinic at University Hospital there is an ongoing genetic study run by, among others Professor Rodney Grahame.

Meanwhile at the Hospital of St. John and St. Elizabeth, the Hypermobility Unit is conducting a project on understanding the onset or triggering of symptom.

The other thing that’s almost as important as the research itself is how the results of that research are communicated afterwards. Fortunately, in the era of Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Whatsapp, linkedIn and the myriad other social networking platforms that seem to spring to life almost every day, the number of communication channels has never been higher.

 This is to say nothing of the hundreds of bloggers – just like the one reading this over my shoulder as I type (she knows how much that bugs me) – writing and sharing information, experiences, strategies and support.

Ehlers Danlos has affected my girlfriend’s life in a pretty profound way; mine too actually, ‘cause now I have to carry all the shopping. And in the early days it was made even harder because no one from GPs to A&E doctors seemed to know what the condition even was, much less how to mitigate and treat it. It was over a year before she was finally diagnosed with EDS, a painful and frustrating year that didn't need to be so much of either.

I don’t need to tell anyone who has EDS that it’s not a widely known condition. What happened to my girlfriend isn't an isolated case. Out there now are people suffering from they-don’t-know-what because even a lot of doctors aren't aware of it. Even worse than that, the Observer newspaper was saying the same thing almost 15 years ago.

That’s why effective communication is so vital, both for doctors and people who have the condition. So that in another 15 years, newspapers aren't still writing that “[EDS] remains largely a mystery and is frequently overlooked or dismissed by doctors.”

The world is a lot smaller now than it was, the internet has seen to that. Now doctors and researchers  access work completed thousands of miles away by people they've never met instantly. Because who’s to say that the results at the Hypermobility Clinic or at Charring Cross in London won’t spark an idea in someone in the United States, Japan or Australia, or anywhere else?

The tools are in place, they just have to be used.

Travel Survival Kit- Hypermobility can't clip your wings

Who doesn’t love holidays? What should be an exciting little stint away in the sun (or snow, if you’re that way inclined) can turn out differently when you have some extra baggage. Carrying around an invisible disease like hypermobility syndrome is stressful, painful and often off-putting.

Most sufferers will have there home set up in a way that means they can get themselves comfortable, access things they need easily and not to have to worry about coming unstuck in an emergency. “I need to be picked up off the floor, my hips has come out and I can’t move.” Happy holidays everyone!

I’ve done a fair bit of travelling since I was diagnosed and can remember dreading the first plane journey I did PD (post-diagnosis, for fun). I had just about got used to sleeping without being woken up by extreme shoulder pain and started worrying about different beds and coaches and plane seats and train journeys. It’s not fun, but you realise you just can’t help it. Most savvy people will pack their painkillers and so on, but if you’re going somewhere a bit unconventional or backpacking, there’s plenty of objects for your survival kit you might never have imagined.

Three years and I am happy to say I flit away without barely a second thought now. My pain is well controlled, which is very fortunate and helps, but I now have a hit-list of important joint crime-busting items.

Cotton wool- This sounds weird, but if you are travelling with a rucksack and you know you’ll need to carry it a fair bit, buy yourself a few of these and put them under the straps. They’re the perfect cushion. I have a travel cushion, but it's awkward to carry and I don't find it that comfortable after five minutes, so don't bother with it.Also cotton wool is SO handy, for like nail varnish emergencies and such. You can pick them up for about 40p so it doesn’t matter if you chuck them.

Deep heat and freeze- Probably obvious to anyone who has hypermobility. Our muscles work much harder to pick up the slack from joints so when the aching it starts, it really starts. I find only the Boots brand really helps me, and others I have spoken to about muscle pain relief have always had a preferred brand. Take it with you. I forgot mine when I went to Thailand and couldn’t find anything nearly as good as what I would use at home.

A big thick jumper- The bigger the better. Hopefully you won’t need to wear said jumper on your lovely sunny holiday, but if you can fit it in the suitcase, I recommend. You can fold them up to add an extra pillow, lay on them to cushion your back, put them between you and a rucksack, rest them around your neck on planes or just sit on them when you need something soft. Jumper-pillow-cushions have been a lifesaver for me at festivals over the last five years. Hotels often only provide one crap pillow and if you’re in a hostel you might not be able to get another. Also, if you do get cold…

Massage balls- They look a bit like colourful sea creatures. You can get them on amazon for about £6 for three and they are definitely worth it. They’re also small so you can chuck them in your handbag. Hotel beds and particular hostel beds are not always forgiving on sore joints. All you have to do with these is stand against a wall or sit up straight on a chair with a back and roll the ball around. If you get particularly good at it you can even get knots out.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/PhysioRoom-Spiky-Massage-Stress-Reflexology/dp/B005LJVREI/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1411139373&sr=8-4&keywords=back+massager+ball

Don’t forget your trainers- Earlier this year I was in Paris with my friend and we walked miles and miles. I packed a nice pair of shoes for looking nice and wore dolly shoes to the airport. Two days later, there I am in a Parisian McDonald’s sitting crippled over some chips and a coffee. Never again will I not take trainers away with me. Even though I had been untroubled for weeks before this, I was troubled for weeks after just because my shoes didn’t support me properly. It was even warm enough for the nice shoes anyway. Le sigh.

I spent last week at a music festival in Croatia and spent the last three nights using a big hoodie as an extra pillow. When back ache calls, you gotta answer with something. Hypermobility is a pushy illness, but there is plenty out there to help shut it up. 

Oh and Croatia by the way, is BEAUTIFUL. 

Invisible illness: Support is so important

Having hypermobility can mean very different things for different people. While many people who have hypermobility have no symptoms at all, those who have hypermobility syndrome can lead a debilitated and painful life.

This is one end of the spectrum: 22 year old Alex tells of how hypermobility is currently ruling her life:

-Migraines, brain fog, inability to concentrate, loss of time/zoning out for minutes/hours.
-I struggle to complete tasks, work or periods of study. I would not be able to maintain a job or complete full time education. This is because of mental fatigue or 'brain fog'. I lack the concentration to complete even the simplest of tasks and I have a hard time with my short term memory. I can never remember whether I took my medicine, or if I ate at lunch time so managing my own condition can be difficult at times.

Alex doesn't look unwell, which often contributes to the battle

-Having a family member assist in helping me out with everyday tasks, finances, taking medication, managing therapies and appointments, reading emails and post is really helpful as there are times I'm not able to do this for myself. I struggle with verbal communication, I find it hard to maintain or keep up with conversation or explain my point and sometimes  understanding what others are saying. I need someone present with me at appointments or if I go out to help me with communication and traveling.

Sadly Alex is most definitely not alone in feeling this way everyday thanks to her condition. Having your ability to work, socialise, take care of yourself and be dependent in a way most people wouldn't give a second thought to taken away can be truly horrible.

HMS can strike in a very different way though, as it doesn't always cause a sufferer to not be able to work or carry out normal tasks. My end of things are quite different.

I am 24, have a full time job, socialise regularly and travel often. I still suffer with similar problems to Alex, but in a different way. Brain fog is definitely an issue. Sometimes at work my head clouds over and I forget what I am doing, or even who I am talking to. My short term memory can be awful at times.

Sitting at desk is like having a daily mortal enemy. I have to constantly stand and then sit and shift and move around because my back and shoulders despise it. I get extremely tired if I have a night out, which is worsening as I get older (as are hangovers) and really noticeable. Sleeping can be quite uncomfortable and I often wake up in a pretzel like shape with my shoulders out of place, so mornings aren't amazing. My muscles sometimes pull to the point where I have to limp even from the slightest exercise, whereas other times I can run, do fitness classes and swim as much as I like. Despite these things I can still go about day-to-day life largely untroubled.

You learn to adapt when you have a chronic condition. You just get used to the symptoms and learn how to manage them better. It’s when you have symptoms to the extreme, like Alex, that things become different. When your life is basically taken away and replaced with a full time fight, you need the right support system to pull through and stabilise yourself.

The problem with having a condition like HMS or related condition EDS (type 3 is the hypermobility type), is that not enough medical professionals understand too few people are aware that they even exist. Even those who do know and are close to a sufferer can try their hardest to support them, but it’s not always enough. People need education, training  and a better awareness. There are of course amazing carers everywhere, but an invisible illness comes with an extra difficulty: How can you help something that doesn't seem to be there?

Alex wants to get her life back on track, but she is constantly being blocked or delayed. These things will probably be frustratingly similar to fellow chronic illness fighters:

- Many support aids are needed for not just my body but for around my house and are quite expensive. The estimated cost of the aids that I need have passed the £1000 mark.
- I don't have an income other than the pre-assessment ESA rate, I should have had an assessment in May to determine whether I need more support but sadly they are experiencing around 26 week delays
- I have also applied for PIP to help cover the cost of living and to buy supports and appliances to adjust my home to my condition, the estimated wait time to hear back about a claim is around 26-48 weeks
- I have to consider the costs of prescriptions when back in work
Not having the supports that I require are preventing me from having independence, I am causing myself further pain and potentially damage.
*More readily available knowledge about getting help with costs for supports or aids would really benefit me. When I purchase these aids and supports I will have more independence, I will be better able to manage my condition and I will be able to get back into part time work at the very least.

Seeing medical professionals with little to no knowledge of the illness
- Unhelpful with a course of treatment or pain relief due to lack of knowledge.
- When seeing doctors about non HMS related problems they are sometimes reluctant to treat as they’re unsure what could be a symptom.
- Having to explain the condition to a medical professional when seeking treatment.
- Having spent so much time at the doctors or in hospitals since childhood with a multitude of complaints, at times I feel like I'm not being taken seriously and appear to be a hypochondriac.

This causes me anxiety, stress, and over a long period of time has contributed largely to depression. The smallest of stresses can exacerbate my symptoms and make me more susceptible to flare ups.

 We need more awareness of the condition, to have the necessary NHS staff educated on the condition, how to identify it and how to implement a treatment plan.

Alex’s frustration is widespread in the community of rare and invisible illness. I see it every day on social media, where support systems have grown as people come together to share experiences and help each other with diagnosis. Sometimes I read things that alarm me on Facebook groups (simply search for hypermobility and you will find many) and on Twitter, of course self-diagnosis isn’t the best way to go, but the majority of messages and advice is brilliant and you won’t find it in many places.

The associated charities are so motivated and really good at raising awareness and providing educational resources.

The Hypermobility Syndrome Association: http://hypermobility.org/

Ehlers-Danlos Support UK  http://www.ehlers-danlos.org/ 

There are also books available, such as A Guide to Living with Hypermobility Syndrome by Isobel Knight, available on Amazon.

You should also not give up after one failed trip to a GP, or even specialist. I had to see my GP about six times until I got a correct referral to a team that might be of real help to me.

The support for HMS and EDS is nowhere near perfect, and in many cases not even helpful at the moment. It is so important that awareness and fundraising continues so people like Alex can get somewhere, and do simple things like go out for the day for friends, or look for a part-time job. Hopefully the future will be brighter and better and importantly, more visible.