Tag Archives: Hope

Facing Disappointment After Disappointment But Pressing On Regardless…

“True hope is honest. It allows a person to believe that even when she falls down and the worst has happened, still she has not reached the end of the road. She can stand up and continue.” – Philip Yancey

I’ve now been on the roller coaster of chronic illness and pain (with a spinal CSF Leak) for nearly 2 1/2 years. During that time I have been almost fully bed bound for months at a time, then for many other months I have been able to live a part normal life where I can be upright enough hours to get the basics done at least.

I have not had one day feeling fully well for those 2 1/2 years.

It’s been tough!

I can hardly remember what it feels like to feel healthy or live normally. To be able to make plans trusting I can go through with them. To not be on this daily treadmill of dealing with the multitude of restrictions and limitations. Whilst simultaneously having to be extremely patient, letting go of what I can’t change and trying my best to stay thankful for all the good parts of life too.

Following about a year of slightly more manageable symptoms. Last week I tripped and fell flat onto the pavement, and within 24 hours of that fall it became obvious that the very minor accident had caused a complete relapse of my CSF Leak symptoms, leaving me again stuck in bed/ lying fully flat for over 22 hours a day.

And it’s honestly so disappointing.
Going backwards again instead of forwards.
To again be struck by the full force of this cruel condition.

The roller coaster is exhausting. It can take months and months to see any improvement in this condition then in one moment, in one misplaced step….

BOOM!

I am back to where I started.

And it is honestly wearing me out!

These are the words I wrote a day after the new fall, as it became clear that I was facing another big symptom relapse….

Every time I face a setback my heart sinks.
Every time I get worse again, I remember how good I had it last week when I was slightly better.
Every time I want to give up, I know I can’t, I have no choice but to keep on going.
Every time I want to sob and sob, to let it all out, but soon realise I shouldn’t because it will only make my symptoms worse.
Every time I picture the life I can’t live and have to let it go again.
Every time I hope for better days but worse days come instead.
Every time it tortures my motherhood that I can’t be the Mum I want to be.
Every time I can’t help my husband look after our home or do everything I want to for and with my children.
Every time my body rebels and forces me to have get flat again before it completely shuts down.

Every day I have to pick myself up, dust myself down and choose to keep on fighting another day.

Sometimes I get weary.
Sometimes it feels like I have nothing left to give.
Sometimes I wonder if I am really strong enough.

But what else can I do but get up and keep on going? Hoping and believing that one day things will again be better than they are now. And that I will one day be able to access the medical care I need to help me get better.

That is what I wrote last weekend as I faced the consequences and hard reality of that fall. They were the feelings and thoughts that bombarded me last week. They were the things I had to face but then let go of.

It’s really not easy to be back here again!

“Pain is no evil, unless it conquers us.” – Charles Kingsley

And yet something is different this time. Those thoughts and feelings didn’t plague me for as long. I have realised that within me I have reached a place of deeper freedom. The journey I have been on for over 2 years has taught me so much and made me so much stronger, whilst simultaneously being more aware of my weakness.

As the condition has beaten me down yet again, I have felt a deeper resilience rise up from the inside – despite it all. A deeper peace to keep on letting go.

I almost feel a shout within me of ‘come on then, bring it on!’
A battle cry that I will not give in, I will still keep living here.
An act of throwing off the burdens and obstacles coming against me.
A determination to make the best of things that I can.

So that is what I am choosing to do. However long this cruel condition keeps knocking me flat. However much it tries to mould my life around its limited perspective. However much it tries to feed me with despair and taunt me with the life I could be living.
However much it tries to bind me up in it’s web of disability, restrictions and chronic pain.

I have to decide that I will not let it rob me of who I really am and who I am really meant to be.

If being Becky Hill means working with this rather than wearing myself out trying to constantly fight it, then I must work with it for as long as I have to. Looking for the opportunities, rather than focusing on the limitations, seeing the beauty still around me, even in those moments it feels unbelievably hard. Because….

  • if I cannot live here, then how can I ever ask anyone else to live through their own very challenging season either?
  • if I cannot find a life amidst all the restrictions, then how can I teach my children to do the same?
  • if I give up the fight then how can I encourage and draw out resilience in others?
  • if I cannot find joy in the midst of suffering then does my spirituality mean anything to me?
  • if I cannot love deeply and see outside of my self, even where there is pain, have I even found true love at all?

So seeing as I have relapsed again as we head into summer, we made our own declaration to this debilitating condition. We brought a garden sun bed that goes completely flat so that if I have to spend my days lying flat, I can do that outside as well. Amidst the garden, the sun, the natural world, the cool breeze and the birds singing their wonderful distinctive songs.

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So I will play card games with my family outside whilst lying flat, I will keep sharing my heart with my husband, I will ask my kids all about their days. I will continue to write, I will read books that inspire me, I will try to connect with and encourage others with my words. I will listen, learn, grow and change. I will enjoy the presence of God and allow Him to touch and change me from deep in my soul.

This condition has and will change me, that is inevitable. But I am determined for it to be only for the better. Because I will not let my spinal CSF leak completely devastate mine and my families life. I will not let negativity overshadow our love for one another. I will not let it steal my peace, love and joy. I will not let it take me down and pull me into the never ending pit of despair.

Instead I will rise up from deep within and find a way to live with all the restrictions, to enjoy the simplicity of life, to appreciate everything I do have and can do, and love everyone I can with all my heart.

“Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional!” – Andre Olivier

So it’s true: last week I tripped, fell and relapsed yet again. But last week I also chose a better way forward. I cried, I faced the pain and loss, I recognised the challenges ahead. I am not in denial, I am more aware than ever about how difficult this will be. There is never a simple way forward in this relentless CSF Leak game.

But after falling I had to get up again. I had to choose to live my life with even more determination and resolve. I had to make a decision…. to not give this condition permission to destroy my life.

Instead I must use it to build more resilience, increase my compassion and help me feel another’s pain. Use it to embrace time to write, read, learn and inspire. To declare that we can still have a life even when so much is stolen. We can still have purpose even when we are mainly stuck in bed.

So let me learn to endure this trial for as long as I have to. Let me find a way to tell another …. ‘yes this really is so so tough – but it can be done, we can find ways to live life like this.’ So let me choose to let go of the life I thought I should live and embrace the life I am currently living and give all I’ve got to truly living here.

Let my heart be moved and my mind be transformed until – rather than complaining – I can sing a new song of thankfulness and joy. Rather than focusing on all that’s lost, I will see all that can be gained. Rather than pulling others into my despair with me, I can choose to love and encourage others even in the midst of my and their pain.

It’s then that purpose can still be found in suffering. It might not be the purpose we envisioned for our life, or the path we would have chosen for ourselves or our family. But this is the life we currently have. So with a deeper resolve and a new patient resilience I will declare that I am finding a way to do this. We, as a family are finding a way to do this.

For as long as this journey takes.

I may not be able to do much. But I still have my work-in-progress story that is being written. It’s taken me on a tangent I never envisioned or imagined. But it’s still my story. Although I cannot control every part of my story I am the greatest contributor to the style in which it is being written, formed and shared.

So let me write the best story I can. The real story. A story of strength in weakness and love conquering all. So I can keep encouraging you to keep writing your best story too.

“Our story is what we have to offer the world…. I wish I had a different story than the one I just lived through, but I am so grateful for the story that has made me who I am today. Even the pain. Even the wounds. The sadness was real. The brokenness deep. The scars mine. It’s my story. It’s who I am. It’s how I’m becoming.” – Erwin McManus (The Artisan Soul).

This is my story!

It’s my story of who I am. It’s my story of who I am becoming. But it’s definitely a work-in-progress. I wonder how the book of my life will unfold? I wonder what it will all become in the end?


To read more about my story of living with a chronic spinal CSF Leak click here.

Here is a brilliant 2 min animation about Spinal CSF leaks.

For more information about spinal CSF leaks please see the UK charity website at www.csfleak.info or the US charity website at www.spinalcsfleak.org.

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Nine Months On: My Ongoing Journey Of Overcoming A Spinal CSF Leak. 

“Courage isn’t having strength to go on, it’s going on when you don’t have strength.” – Napoleon Bonaparte

Each of us has a story. Our life stories are unique to us. Lives, circumstances and even illness and injury are not often ‘text book’. 

We are all individuals and our lives and bodies are complex. 

I want to continue to share my own story, in the hope it might help you on your journey and also hopefully educate people about some of the complexities of these conditions.

I have chosen to write the post specifically with CSF leak and post concussion sufferers in mind. Which is why it is longer than my normal posts.

Over the months I have read about other peoples stories.

Some of them tie into my own experiences. 

Some don’t. 

So I wanted to add my own story to those out there. Maybe you will relate to it. Maybe not. But I hope that it helps you regardless.

“Facing pain may require more courage than we’ve ever had in our lives.” – Samuel Chand

We all have days and times in our lives when we don’t want to get up in the morning. When life is busy, stressful and hard work. Times that you crave to be able to stay in bed all day read a book, watch TV or listen to music.

Then you get ill or injured and, for a time, staying in bed all day becomes your reality.

And it is far from easy. 

If you have seen any of my previous blog posts you will know I fell off a ladder 9 months ago and sustained a concussion (mild traumatic brain injury) and was later diagnosed with post-concussion then 8/9 weeks later, a CSF Leak (Cerebral Spinal Fluid Leak). Which we assume is somewhere in my spine.

At the moment I am lying flat in bed writing this. I have spoken about lying flat in many of my blog posts, but what does this actually mean? 

I mean my upper body and particularly my head has to be flat on the bed or sofa. Sometimes I can use a very thin pillow to support my head. Often even that lifts my head too high, so I tend to spend most of the day, and sleep, without a pillow. I can be on my back, side or even front.

But my head must be as flat as possible

When I was in hospital, both times, It would intrigue me that so many very ill people are propped up in bed with pillows and their beds raised up.

That concept is unthinkable for me at the moment. In fact the reality is that would just be a form of torture. It seems alien to me to be unwell and sitting propped up. 


I have a routine now where I drink lying flat (even cups of tea) using straws. I eat all my meals and snacks (apart from dinner) lying flat. (I just eat dinner extra fast so I can lie down again quickly). 

My first time in hospital the pain had got so unbearable that my husband would feed me dinner, so I could lie flat, because that is the only way I could manage the symptoms and the pain.

Nine months later, following a relapse, I have learnt to manage it a lot better. The main way to do this is just to avoid being upright for more time than absolutely necessary. Five or ten minutes is normally manageable. Beyond that is often unbearable.

You have no choice but to lie down because it reaches the point you literally just can’t function upright. 

So I currently try to only get up when absolutely necessary.

When I lie flat I am almost symptom free. I say almost, because I still can feel weak and dizzy and get some aches and pains. 

But lying flat I generally feel more like me: 
I can write,
I can talk,
I can think.
I feel more normal! 

Sitting or standing at the moment is a whole other issue. You would not believe how you can go from feeling mainly symptom free to feeling really very ill in a matter of minutes or even sometimes seconds of being upright.

Since I was diagnosed with a CSF Leak, I have caused the doctors and Neurologists a lot of confusion because my full set of symptoms are not fully in line with their normal experience of a CSF leak. 

Most doctors experience of CSF leaks are mainly from epidurals that have gone wrong or lumbar punctures (LP’s/ Spinal Taps) where the hole in the spinal dura won’t close. Also people can obviously get cranial/ skull leaks from trauma, which can be seen through spinal fluid dripping out your ear or nose. These can be (but not always) easier to diagnose and often easier to treat.

Spinal leaks, whether spontaneous or through trauma (as in my case), often cannot be easily seen or proven. Which makes diagnosis and treatment problematic.

Mine also seems to be connected to the original post-concussion diagnosis. Which tends to confuse doctors because I often present at A&E with symptoms that are more in line with post-concussion syndrome/ post traumatic migraine.

The telling sign that there is probably a CSF leak, in the mix, is that I have the postural element of the injury. I am generally symptom free lying flat, but symptoms build when upright. If I am upright for too long the symptoms will also extend to lying down for a while after, but they always dramatically improve. 

This has lead the Neurologists to conclude that they think I probably have a CSF leak that exacerbates post-concussion migraine symptoms. I will try and explain this to you further in the hope that it might help other people with similar issues.

A couple of weeks ago I was admitted to hospital following an almost total relapse of symptoms. There are a few things that were slightly better than last time I was admitted 6 months ago, but generally it’s the same thing. I think perhaps part of the difference now is that I know how to manage the injury better than I did before. 

Here were my symptoms I was admitted with (in no particular order). 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dizziness,
Balance issues,
Walking difficulties,
Speaking difficulties, including slurring of words and inability to fully express myself.
Drunk like behaviour.
Pressure in the head.
Neck stiffness & pain.
Pain at the lower back of my head.
Photophobia (light sensitivity)
Shaking and spasms.

These are actually almost the same symptoms I had every time I visited A&E since my injury (4 in all). The third visit I was in such acute pain in my head/ neck that they tried to give me morphine, which rather than take the pain away, made it worse and made me very sick so they decided to admit me for a brain MRI scan.

It was only through this first admission that I finally got to see a Neurologist who raised the possibility of a CSF leak due to the postural nature of my symptoms.

The consultant looked into two possible diagnoses: Post traumatic migraine from the concussion or a CSF leak.

Neurology then set about to investigate the CSF diagnosis which proved more problematic than we would have hoped.

If you read up on CSF leaks you will soon discover that diagnosis can be immensely difficult.

Unless you have recently had a lumbar puncture/ spinal tap, an epidural or spinal surgery and then present with postural headaches. Proving you have a leak and finding it can be a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack.

They firstly did an MRI brain with contrast which came back clear of Intracranial Hypotension or ‘brain sag/slump’. This is the condition that low CSF causes. Basically, because there is less fluid round your brain, your brain then falls in your skull, due to gravity, when you are upright. The pain and symptoms are due to the pressure this puts on this area of your head and the stretching/ squashing that occurs.

It is not unheard of for these scans to come back clear. And from what I have read, severity of symptoms do not necessarily correspond to these scan results.

So they attempted to find a leak site in my neck via MRI. This also came back normal. Which is again not unusual.

The leaks are often minute. Most imaging, even MRI, is not powerful enough to locate them. 

They then did a lumbar puncture/spinal tap to look at opening pressure. Mine was a 7. They said they would consider it to be low if it was 8 or lower. Worse cases of CSF leak are often a 3 or below. (Normal is about 10-20).

So that supported the diagnosis but it was not a definitive diagnosis. 

When they did the LP I knew it was the same sensation I felt. However, following the LP I had an additional headache which was even worse, again postural, and all my other symptoms increased too:

Head pressure,
Neck pain,
Dizziness,
Instability walking etc.
My back also hurt a lot at the site of the LP. 

These restored back to what they were before the LP a couple of days later.

I then had an MRI of my spine which came back clear. 

The neurologists then decided to try a high volume blind epidural blood patch. Which is used to treat spinal CSF leaks when they can’t locate the leak site.

Usually if you have had an LP or an Epidural they know where the leak is so they can inject the blood patch into the same location in the lower epidural space in the spine. This is supposed to help seal the leak through the blood clotting and generally increase the spinal fluid pressure. These procedures have a high success rate. 

It wasn’t easy for them to agree to get an anaesthetist to do a blind patch at first, because of the higher risks involved and lack of evidence to back up the diagnosis. Blind blood patches are a lot less effective than ones directed at the actual leak location. 

The problem is we think, it is possible, that my leak might be in the upper or even cervical (neck) spine. To do a blood patch higher up the spine is very high risk because of the lack of space between the vertebra to reach the epidural space and because of the proximity to the brain.  

Eventually a team of anaesthetists agreed to do a blind blood patch and they took me down to surgery to do it. I think they managed to inject 30ml of my blood, taken from my arm, into the epidural space in my lower spine. 

The consultant anaesthetist then advised not to do a second blood patch, even if symptoms did not improve. When people have blood patches following an LP or epidural CSF leak, relief can often be quite instant. They will also often do a second or even third blood patch if the first one fails. In my case they were concerned about doing another high volume patch without further investigation. 

I laid flat on my back for about 15 hours after mine, without moving, to help it to ‘take’.

When I was able to get up some things had improved, some things hadn’t. 

I had the choice whether to be discharged or stay at hospital to pursue more investigations and treatment (which was not a simple route). I chose to go home (having been there 18 days) and work on my recovery and hope and trust that things would improve.

And things did improve, a lot.    Within a few days I was back on my feet. I could walk on my own again outside, I could drive short distances. I didn’t have as much problem with head pressure and pain.

But it was still there. 

I always put this down to the fact I had had a brain injury (concussion) prior to this and had been in bed for 3 months.

Surely things would just take time. 

Symptoms improved gradually and I thankfully pretty much got back to normality.

But I still suffered with head pressure, head pain, spaced out symptoms, dizziness, back pain (from the blood patch) and neck pain.

I still found I could not get through a whole day without lying down flat. Life became about pacing myself. Staying positive and believing that things would keep improving. 

Then I relapsed. 

Perhaps I did too much.
Perhaps I took too many risks.
Perhaps it happened regardless of what I did.  

Over the period of about 2/3 weeks things got progressively worse. I had to lie down flat more and more during the day to cope and compensate.

I went back to the GP, got a referral back to Neurology (which I would have to wait for an appointment for). Tried lying down for most of two days to see if that helped.

Then symptoms got overwhelming and we headed back to A&E for the fourth time this year. As I talk about in ‘Learning Patience’. 

The thing that again confused the Neurologists was why did I always present with symptoms more in line with post-concussion syndrome/ post -traumatic migraine BUT the symptoms are obviously very postural.

Why did I not just present with an unbearable postural headache, as in ‘normal cases’?

I understood this dilemma myself because when I read about symptoms. Most people would talk about unbearable headaches, and even though I experienced headaches, they were not always fully in line with others descriptions.

In fact, other people’s descriptions were probably more in line with the additional headache I experienced during the couple of days after the LP. That headache was more distinctly a headache as well as increasing all my other current symptoms.

What I tend to experience is nothing like I had ever felt before. 

I will try and explain the sensation I experience at its worst

I sit up, almost instantly my head begins to cloud over and the pressure builds, that makes me feel dizzy and unstable on my feet. Each minute of standing this increases. It feels a bit like you have been whacked round the back of your head by a heavy object.

What feels like a stiffness in the upper neck then increases followed by what moves from an ache to an increasing pain at the bottom back of my skull.

After a bit it can feel almost like I am being strangled, from the back of my head. I can also feel a pressure behind my sinuses, it can make me cough and gag, the front of my neck gets tense. I struggle to think, can struggle with my words, increasingly struggle to walk without support and then if I am up too long I can end up twitching/ shaking and having small spasms.

You become consumed by doing what has to be done as quickly as possible and getting back to lying flat. I feel very irritable and shaky because I just physically and mentally cannot cope with being upright.

The longer you are upright, the worse it gets and the longer it takes to recover lying down. Once back lying flat it often can take a few minutes to recover from what can only be described as the trauma of being upright. (Occasionally it takes longer to recover). 

The doctors always ask me ‘do you have a headache’? or ‘how is the headache’? But to me it’s not simply a headache.

It’s not just about a crazy ‘pain in my head’ it is more than that. It’s an intensity that is unrelenting and sets off various other symptoms. Pain is one of those but not necessarily the over riding symptom. 

The overriding unbearable symptom is intense unrelenting and increasing pressure in my head that makes doing anything immensely difficult. Until I reach a point my body and mental processing cannot cope with it anymore and it begins to react accordingly by shutting down.
I just cannot function properly sitting or standing. 

It is a headache, I guess, but nothing like headaches I ever had before my injury. I often feel the pain more in my upper neck than head.  Previously, the very occasional headaches I had were always at the top front of my head and were completely different. There is no comparison. I think it’s perhaps more migrane like but I never had a migrane so I don’t really know.

Headaches are unpleasant. You lie down and they are still there. You take painkillers to get rid of them. (I have occasionally had a normal headache in addition since my injury – they don’t go away lying down). 

These so called ‘headaches’ feel like you are being tortured. My body literally cannot handle being upright. Which is why when I have to sit up to travel to and wait in A&E waiting rooms, my symptoms always increase and I act like a drunk person. I cannot physically or cognitively cope with the strain put on my brain.

When eventually I get to lie down (usually before I see an A&E consultant) I am suddenly not quite as bad. Which is probably one of the reasons the first two times I was discharged as just having post-concussion syndrome.

We didn’t understand the relevance of posture at that time. 

When I finally was admitted. I still didn’t fully understand the need to be fully flat. My bed was often at first a little raised. I used large pillows. I sat up to drink drinks, eat, get changed, use the bathroom, speak to people.

I now realise that is why the pain built up to be unbearable. I have learnt not to do that any more. Which means I have generally learnt to manage the pain, without medication.

As long as I lie flat pretty much for 24 hours a day. 

It’s a part positive of the condition – I get relief from the torture. 

But you obviously can’t live a normal life like that. 

“When we face life challenges, we must find a way not only to survive them, but in time, to actually grow from them. We must find a way to keep on keeping on, no matter how hard or painful life becomes. As a result, we can avoid getting “stuck” and live life in spite of our circumstances.” – Kelli Horn

After a few days in hospital, after my relapse, they agreed to try another blind blood patch. Which was again the subject of great debate between the Neurologists themselves and the Anaesthetists (especially because they had initially advised only doing one). 

So that is what I am currently waiting for. They said I could have it as an ‘outpatient’ so I get to wait at home rather than hospital. (One blood patch was already cancelled though because of lack of theatre time available and then a subsequent recovery bed). 

Blind Epidural blood patches usually have a 50% success rate. Being a person of faith in God and optimism I am choosing to believe it will work and again get me back on my feet.

It did last time. We are trusting it will again. But this time we are praying that it fully heals and will never come back.

You don’t realise how precious a normal life is till it is snatched away from you. 

“All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming.” – Helen Keller

I have and am learning a lot and developed more compassion towards others with long term health issues. Compassion means ‘to suffer together’. There is a beautiful thing that can happen if we allow our own suffering to develop our compassion towards others.

Humanity becomes more unified, gracious and loving as I wrote in ‘We Are All Messed Up’.

If you suffer with post-concussion or a CSF leak I hope that you find a way through, discover the strength you will need and that you will find doctors who understand and can help you.

Having a unusual injury or illness is hard, but let’s choose to keep holding on to hope for the future. Encouraging one another and hoping that doctors become more knowledgable and understanding of this debilitating condition.

There is always hope, there is always progress being made. Life may be hard but there is always something we can do and achieve.  

Even amidst the pain. 

“Your past mistakes, hurts & pain can help give someone else a future. Whatever we have gone through enables us to help others.” – Christine Cain


I would love to hear about your stories and experiences with concussion, post-concussion and CSF Leaks? Please do comment below. You never know you might help someone else in the process.

For more of my posts on this subject please see my first post here. You can see my ongoing series of posts by clicking on the CSF Leak and Concussion menu at the top of the page. 

To read more about my ongoing story of living with a chronic spinal CSF Leak click here.

Here is a brilliant 2 min animation about Spinal CSF leaks.

For more information about spinal CSF leaks please see the UK charity website at www.csfleak.info or the US charity website at www.spinalcsfleak.org.

A fantastic informative video that you can refer to about spinal CSF Leaks, their symptoms and treatments is The Mystery Headache: Migraine, Positional Headache, Spinal Fluid Leak? by Professor Ian Carroll at Stamford University Hospitals.