Narcolepsy and Marriage - When It All Falls Apart

Just a couple of years ago, I really didn't think we'd be celebrating our wedding anniversary this year.

At times I wasn't even that concerned about it. I wasn't angry or sad or spiteful... I just didn't care anymore.

In our family, wedding anniversaries are a big deal. My parents have been married for 33 years and every year, we try to celebrate the longevity of their love. After all, without it, we wouldn't be here. Well, my husband and I had been married for a few years when I thought -

I just can't do this anymore.


I felt myself giving up, but I wasn't even really sure what that meant. Did I have plans to leave him? Divorce? Take our daughter and disappear? No. Instead, I think I was planning a separation. An emotional separation that would mean we'd both live in the same house, eat at the same table, and even sometimes sleep in the same bed. 

But my heart wouldn't be in it.


Have you ever known anyone who was in a loveless marriage? I can't think of a sadder scenario. Two people who at some point in time wanted to be together more than anything. They were so in love they declared it to the world by getting married and uniting their lives. What a beautiful arrangement marriage is! Unless the love begins to die.


Fortunately, I didn't emotionally separate from my husband. Instead, I did something that I didn't want to do. I told him exactly how I felt. Without screaming or name-calling, accusing or berating, I just told him that I felt like our marriage was falling apart. Something was creating a crack in the marriage and that crack was becoming a vast chasm that was widening every day. So we talked and planned and saw a doctor, and soon, my husband was diagnosed with Narcolepsy. 


That diagnosis changed everything.


Now there was a reason for his behavior, his lethargy, his mood swings... but the hardest hurdle would now be changing my mentality. I had to start thinking about how to save my marriage and fight our common enemy. I recommitted to my husband and our relationship. It wasn't easy. I'm always reminding myself that my husband didn't ask to have this illness. He hates it more than I do. It's a battle, but it's worth it.

Our anniversary last week was the best one yet.

Narcolepsy and The Medication Nightmare

I think we've established that there's no cure for narcolepsy. 

There are however, several medications that are used to treat narcolepsy and it's friends. My husband has only tried a few so far, but the differences between them are astounding... and  a little scary.

Upon his initial diagnosis approximately 2 years ago, he started on Provigil. This was a drug that we'd never heard of, but then again, we didn't know a whole lot about narcolepsy either. I liked my husband on Provigil. He seemed like himself. That may sound silly, but it's the most accurate way I can put it. You see, narcolepsy often turns him into a different version of himself. He's muted and distant, like a faded photograph that you have to hold at an angle to see. It's like he's not all there - and in reality, he isn't. But with Provigil... wow, what a difference! Suddenly the photograph is in color, sharp and clear - it was great! For me, anyway. For my husband, it was just OK. The side effects included headaches and stomachaches which were quite bothersome, but went away over time. We thought we'd found a viable solution.

Then our health insurance got in the way. 

With insurance, the amount of Provigil my husband was prescribed amounted to about $400 per month. The cost was way beyond our modest budget. Just in case you didn't catch it before - that was with insurance. Suddenly, Provigil wasn't the answer anymore.

Next up, Aderrall.

Initially, it didn't seem  so bad. It kept him awake and alert and we didn't notice any side effects right away... It definitely wasn't like Provigil, but at least he was awake, right? That was when I learned that there's a lot more to treating narcolepsy than keeping a person awake. I've already gone into detail about how much I hate Aderrall, but I can never say it enough. At least it was cheap, I guess. With our insurance, it comes to about $12 a month.

Most recently, my husband was prescribed Nuvigil. He said that he felt the difference right away. Although I'll go into more detail in a different post, suffice it to say I loved him on it... but it didn't last long.The drug, I mean. The amount that he was prescribed was a free trial, and after that, we were on our own. Unfortunately, insurance doesn't cover it - at all. Fortunately, we're not the only ones who can't afford it. Drug manufacturers of Nuvigil have created a prescription assistance program that will help cover the costs of the medicine. We're in the process of applying for that.


It is a nightmare, finding the right medication to treat a chronic illness. With narcolepsy, one has to be so careful. A drug that may keep you awake might also trigger attacks of cataplexy. A drug that helps with cataplexy may make the night binges worse. It's such a delicate balance...

...but so worth it.

A Narcoleptic's Guilt

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My husband apologizes a lot.

I didn't notice this until a couple of years after we'd been married. I figured it was a quirk. We'd often have those conversations that are parodied on TV:

"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? Stop apologizing."
"I'm sorry, I'll stop."
"You just did it again!"
"Sorry..."

...and so it goes.

Over time, I realized something. He apologizes sincerely, because he feels guilty. He feels guilty because his illness is a weight that prevents him from being the husband he envisions in his own head.

That's pretty deep stuff right there.

Imagine that - in your mind, you should be THIS. Whatever THIS is for you as a wife, husband, friend, sibling, employee, you have a mental picture of what you should be.

But you can never be that.

It isn't your fault, so why feel guilty? This really made me pause when I realized how my husband was feeling. Every day, he felt like he wasn't doing enough. Every day, he took stock of his failures. Lists unchecked, chores left unfinished, projects abandoned. Day by day, it stacked up - this pile of failures. It's his pile, and only he knows how tall it stands, but for him, it's always there. That makes me so sad for him because that is certainly not what I see. I'm so proud of him for getting up each day and persevering despite his constant fatigue. I don't know how he does it sometimes.

As if the weight of narcolepsy wasn't enough to bear, he has the added burden of guilt. Hopefully my bearing some of the load will allow him to breathe.

Narcolepsy and Depression - A Natural Combination

Narcolepsy is depressing.

Picture the life: You are intelligent, love to be active, involved, affectionate, and funny. But your illness makes you dull and slow. Mentally lethargic, you'd rather just listen to the conversation rather than participate. You can sometimes make it to the party, but the first thing you need to do is find a place to nap.

Such is the life of my husband, the narcoleptic.

Understandably, he gets down about his condition. A born list-maker, he always has a million things he wants to get done each day. Realistically, he often has to settle with just getting through the day. This frustrates him and sometimes saddens him. Many times he gets very sad. So sad that he feels hopeless. So hopeless that he feels like giving up. He swings from ranting to crying and back again, in an exhausting cycle of emotions that drains us both.

That's depression.

My husband didn't think he was depressed. He thinks that he's just "messed up" sometimes. While I certainly respect his opinion (it is HIS body, after all), I vehemently disagree. See, about 10 years ago, I was clinically depressed. Major depression was a large part of my life for many years. Too many. I spent years seeing psychiatrists and therapists, participated in group therapy, tried several different anti-depressants, and was even hospitalized a few times.

Nothing helped.

Eventually, I decided that if I was going to get well, I'd have to take matters into my own hands. When I did, I slowly got better and now all these years later, I know I made the right choice. But that's another post. My point is that, if nothing else, I recognize the symptoms of depression. I recognize them like I recognize the facial features in a photograph of someone I once hated. Someone who stalked me relentlessly, teased and tortured me, and fought tooth-and-nail when I was finally able to push them away. Yes, I know depression.

So what to do? If you suspect that someone you love suffers from depression, can you force them to get help?

No, but you can show them what healthy looks like.

In describing my experience with depression to my husband, I saw recognition in his eyes. Now I just have to introduce him to something else.

Hope.

How to Have a Conversation With a Narcoleptic

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It sounds like the opening to a really good joke, doesn't it?

If you don't already know this, a person with narcolepsy is often tired and sleepy. But that's not all. They often suffer from problems with concentration, short-term memory loss, irritability, and mental confusion. Imagine having all of that going on and try to hold a normal conversation.

It ain't easy.

With my husband, I've learned to repeat things. A lot. It's not that he isn't listening or didn't hear me. It's just that it didn't quite register. Imagine his mind is a sleepy, distracted person trying desperately to play ping-pong. If I fire the ball at him, he definitely won't hit it, but if I lob it gently over and over, eventually he'll reach out at just the right moment and voila! He gets it.

Then there are the other times.

Other conversations are just the opposite. By nature, I'm a fast talker. No, I'm not a swindler - I just speak really quickly. Over the years I've learned to slow down and let people get in a word every now and then, but I never have a problem spitting something out. Every now and then though, my narcoleptic husband out-talks me. Excited and eager to share his thoughts, he impatiently trips over his own words in a rush to get them all out there. It's like verbal ping-pong, it's so fun talking to him in that mode. Back and forth we bounce ideas off of one another, laugh at impromptu jokes, and frequently apologize saying, "I'm sorry, go ahead," when one of us gets too excited and interrupts the other.

It's weird, but that's narcolepsy.

Of course I prefer the times when my husband is more articulate and engaged in the conversation. I fight impatience when he has to speak slowly, when there are lengthy pauses while he fights to remember what he was saying, dead silences as he contemplates an answer to my easy question. At those times, I know he's just a prisoner. Narcolepsy is holding his brain hostage once again.

I still haven't figured out the cost of the ransom.

So for those who genuinely want to know how to talk to their friend, co-worker, or loved one with narcolepsy, the answer is simple: be patient. If they stumble, forget, or ask you to repeat, just be patient and wait for them to hit the ball. They may speak slowly this time 'round, but the next time, you may just need to get your paddle ready.

*For a very insightful view of how a person with narcolepsy sometimes feels trying to converse with people, read this blog post from Confessions of a Narcoleptic.

Narcoleptic Does Not Equal Lazy

A narcoleptic may be tired, but that doesn't mean that they can't get things done. The other day my husband did chores, completed a repair on the car, ran errands, took our daughter on an outing, and was able to stay awake at the dinner table.

Image courtesy of Ambro/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

When we moved, my husband pushed himself all day in the hot sun until our large moving truck was empty and all of our furniture was (roughly) in place. Before the group of people we had helping us left, he passed out. Literally.
He collapsed, unable to get up, and slept for hours right where he'd given out. It wasn't until that evening that he was able to struggle to take a shower and collapse again - this time into bed.

So although my husband can at times force himself to keep going when all he wants to do is sleep, it isn't good for him when he does. It only intensifies his symptoms and sometimes makes his cataplexy more severe.

Although the temptation may be to push himself until he drops, it just isn't a lasting solution. The recovery is just too taxing.

Narcolepsy Is Absolutely Not Contagious... Right?

I've been very tired lately.

It's funny how a lack of sleep is the last thing we consider when feeling unwell. I considered everything but sleeplessness as a reason for my malaise. Then one day - I fell asleep.

I never fall asleep, even when I should. But this day, I fell asleep in the middle of the day, quite unexpectedly.

Apparently, I need more sleep.

It's makes perfect sense. Sleeping with someone who can never get a good night's sleep is bound to affect their partner. Not to mention we have a toddler who sometimes decides to wake up at 3am. It's hard to predict when I'll go to bed though. For instance, last night my husband called home around 11:00pm to tell me that he'd have to nap before he drove home. Worried, I waited up for him. I didn't get to bed until 2am. Our daughter gets up at 6.

If I'm going to be an advocate for my husband, I'm going to have to take better care of myself. Isn't that the first rule of care-giving? The caregiver must take care of self first. That's going to be hard for someone who considers her family's needs before her own and feels guilty if she doesn't.
For starters, I've begun painting again. I started a series of ACEO (Art Cards, Editions, and Originals - art the size of baseball cards) with different themes, including narcolepsy.

I feel better already.