“But you look so good” is what people usually say when they find out that I struggle with debilitating chronic illnesses. It is true- I wear fashionable clothes, I do my hair, I put on makeup and I have a smile on my face. Underneath it all though, is someone who is trying to live her best life with the cards she was dealt with. I grew up in southern India and none of my family members knew what Chiari malformation was. It wasn’t until I came to the United States, had a baby and hit a complete rock bottom that I found out that a condition called Chiari even existed.
The journey to diagnosis was much like putting together a jigsaw puzzle especially when my medical providers did not take me seriously. The pain came first-it started in my fingers, head, neck, knees and gradually, over the course of two years became fairly debilitating. I was initially misdiagnosed with Rheumatoid arthritis since I have a family history with it. I was on sulfasalazine, prednisone, and hydroxychloroquine for over a year. While the prednisone helped with the pain, the combo of drugs just made me sicker and sicker. I went down to 95lbs and got extremely depressed. It was easy for everyone to simply say that I was homesick and that my pain was imagined. Yes, I was depressed but not due to homesickness. It was legitimate and severe pain that existed but could not be seen or measured by a test. I was sent to a psychologist and then to a psychiatrist. I was just “the immigrant who was dealing with immigrant-related depression and anxiety.” When multiple medical providers went 
with that same narrative, I started questioning if it was all indeed in my mind and psychosomatic. I was starting to accept that living like that was going to be my new normal. I was training with my figure skating coach to be able to make to adult nationals. Skating gave me joy because it was an artistic sport that I could distract myself with. But eventually, the pain took that joy away from me.
During this time, I became increasingly bitter and angry with everyone around me including my family members. I felt alone and invalidated over and over. In hindsight, I can understand why it was hard for my family to believe my pain too. No one knew about the monster that was causing it. Things got even weirder when I was pregnant- my body reacted negatively to pregnancy. I had gestational diabetes, polyhydramnios and mysteriously, two rib fractures that perplexed everyone. I was induced at 39 weeks with a labor that lasted over 30 hours and ended with fourth-degree external and internal tears. While my rib fractures and severe tears were a red flag, they were apparently not a red flag enough to warrant a deeper look at what was going on. It was still easier to stick to the hysterical, angry woman of color/ immigrant narrative. The physical scars from my fractures and tears healed and the emotional scars were temporarily masked by the joy of my new baby girl. Days turned into weeks into years and pain was my normal. Having no pain was a red flag at that point.
Slowly, my esophagus deteriorated, and my lower esophageal sphincter completely gave away. My nasal septum deteriorated somehow, I developed a near-constant tremor. People were starting to see some outward signs of what I had been complaining about for years. After a motor vehicle accident, my symptoms took a drastic turn for the worse. I had to fight with my primary care doctor to get an MRI. It took me 7 years at this point to learn that if I did not fight for myself, then no one would. And I wanted my baby girl to have a mom around.
From the diagnosis of Chiari 1.5 to surgery was about 3 weeks. I liked my surgeon and the care team, so I was comfortable with the surgery. Recovery was long and painful though. I had meningitis twice after the surgery, developed chronic migraines in addition to trigeminal and occipital neuralgia. The diagnosis of central sleep apnea, MCAS and EDS came a year later. My brain stem was traumatized massively. I had to go to vestibular physical rehabilitation therapy to fully walk independently again. A year after my Chiari decompression, I had the Nissen Fundoplication to fix my esophagus. Four years past surgery, I am still recovering and learning how to manage my conditions. My care team now consists of – Anesthesiologist, Physiatrist, Neurologist, Pulmonologist, Gastroenterologist, ENT doctor, Massage Therapists, and Mental Health Counselors in addition to my close family. A huge part of learning how to manage these conditions has been figuring out what my physical limitations are and listening to my body cues. It has taken a long time to learn that it is ok to say no and that it is ok to have a LOT of mental energy but have little to no capacity to do things physically. I gave up figure skating because that kind of physical activity was causing me extreme pain. I get intense urges to skate every now and then which I give into occasionally but as the years have gone by, I am much better at gauging the pain and deciding not to do it. Loud sounds and bright lights trigger a lot of pain now, so I am better about avoiding places that I know are noisy and overwhelming. I have found peace in hiking through the wonderful trails of the pacific northwest. I have cut down on social commitments to prioritize my health over anything else. Some weekends, I do nothing except sleep all day… I have had to learn that that is OK. My husband has been a huge support and my pillar to lean on for the 11 years that we have been married. If I am tempted to do something against my better judgment, he reminds me to know my limitations. I have made peace with the fact that some people might find it impossible to hard to understand what living with Chiari and the comorbid conditions is like and that I cannot control how other people see it. My job has been a stable and joyful part of my life, but it took me a long time to accept that too since my original goal was to go to medical school. I realized my personal limitation about not being able to make it through medical residency. I want to let everyone know that there is hope at the other end of the tunnel… even though it is not in the form of a cure.
I was what you would consider a “typical developing child” growing up, I did not have any health issues and was able to enjoy much of my childhood. My journey to finding answers in regard my health began at 15 years old, when I began rapidly losing my vision in my left eye. I dealt with severe headaches and the doctors struggled to draw a connection to my declining vision. I went from 20/20 vision to 20/400 in my right eye and 0 vision in my left. I was considered legally blind. I had to relearn how to navigate life with very little vision.
Fast forward a few years, I was told that a second decompression surgery was required, which I agreed to. It resulted in a rip in my dural patch causing a cerebral spinal fluid leak at the surgical site. After these two decompression and a CSF leak repair surgery, my vision had improved significantly yet I was worse off symptom wise than I was when I initially began noticing changes in my body. Sadly, I was told from my specialists that there was nothing more they could do for me. They referred me to the headache/face pain clinic. After many failed attempts at managing my pain with medications, my doctor mentioned that my symptoms resembled a spinal fluid leak and that there is a doctor who is navigating research and I should be evaluated.
contrast, CT , digital subtraction myelogram, MR myelogram, and the list goes on. After a few months of investigating we were able to confirm that I suffer from spontaneous intracranial hypotension, meaning that I have multiple leaks or suspicious areas in my spine, that happened spontaneously (without known trauma). My doctor mentioned that my Chiari diagnosis is what is classified as an Acquired Chiari Malformation.
I had a rough journey with these conditions and I am sharing it to help show how complex we can be and how much we need the medical community to step it up a notch (or ten)! I grew up in Denmark, where I lived when I was diagnosed and had my first surgeries.
Years passed by with various periods of severe pain flares, flares that felt nothing like the pains I had before. But no doctor was really believing me. I had a spontaneous collapsed lung a couple of times in this period and ended up with surgery for this (I woke up under this surgery which later also turned out to have a significance). At 25, one day I had a sudden and severe onset of symptoms – a pain in the back of my head feeling like two stabbing knives. This did not resolve and after several attempts with various medicines, that I only got sicker from, I finally saw a new rheumatologist whom again treated me with harsh accusations of laziness and psychological imbalance. I can assure you he was the one bringing on my tears that day, despite the extra severe pain I had been in for weeks. I was placed in the care of the hospital physios and after a while, it became clear to them that there was something really wrong and they got me to see another rheumatologist, who in turn took their word and referred me for an MRI. I had only just turned 26 when I was diagnosed with Chiari 1 Malformation and Syringomyelia – in my full spine.
I did a bit of internet research as information in Danish was very sparse and realized there was a certain number of bad outcomes due to something called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, Retroflexed Odontoid and Basilar Invagination. I asked my neurosurgeon, who was supposed to be the best in Denmark at this point, about these things – he claimed I didn’t have any. However, he did agree to refer me for Ehlers-Danlos evaluation. Here I was told I did not have that either. However, I was bordering on a similar connective tissue disorder called Marfan Syndrome, which they still could not diagnose me with due to my heart and eyes not being faulty. I had my first decompression surgery in December 2006. It was rough. I reacted badly to anesthetics and to the morphine and I also lost a lot of spinal fluid. I could not raise myself up the first month which I thought was normal. Slowly, I got better, and imaging showed my syrinx shrinking. Two and a half years later, though, I started experiencing dizziness and nausea and though my first surgeon didn’t believe me, imaging finally showed a big collection of fluid outside my spinal cord originating from a hole in the duraplasty used to close after tonsillar cauterization at my first surgery. I tried talking to the surgeon about concerns of Klippel-Feil and instability, that I had read about, but they would not hear of it and said that for now they would just focus on this issue. So, this was repaired, and I moved to Spain with my boyfriend at the time. I was placed on a disability pension from Denmark and that enrolled me in the Spanish public healthcare. I did, however, in the meantime follow up on my concerns and contacted a specialist, who had written about the Klippel-Feil and Chiari connection, and he straight away stated I had some severe issues with my odontoid and needed it removed and my neck fused to my skull. My first meeting with a surgeon in Spanish health care came up and he just looked at my imaging two minutes then stated my problems were way bigger than Chiari and Syringomyelia. He also diagnosed a severe retroflexed odontoid and Basilar Invagination – so severe he had a hard time understanding how I could breathe, let alone walk. But given my reasonably good condition, he opted to postpone these surgeries as they are big and not without risks.
A couple of years of enjoying the benefits the climate change gave me (and likely putting my head in the sand) went by but then I could no longer ignore the fact that I was getting worse. I was in a rough period with other matters of life, so it took a while before I realized I couldn’t escape the changes in my body. I started losing weight amongst other things and after a quick detour of fear of stomach cancer, I finally realized that everything that was going on was related to my brainstem compression. So, I went back to the neurosurgeon. He ordered some testing but before it could be done, I ended up admitted urgently after I stopped breathing one night. From here started a roller coaster. I didn’t feel right about their suggestions and the surgeon that was going to operate didn’t feel very secure himself even. I ended up getting transferred to a private hospital in Barcelona that calls themselves a “Chiari Institute.” Had I known what I do now, I would never have paid the fee for a filum release, but the doctor claimed this was what I needed and well… It was worth a shot in this urgent situation. He then sent me home, claiming I was cured. I didn’t feel right and breathing through the night was still a problem, so I started sending my imaging to experts around the world and working on getting referred to another hospital in Spain’s public health with higher expertise. All these experts claimed I wouldn’t have long to live unless I had this odontoid approached.
October 2016 I finally had a partial odontoidectomy and a fusion, which beyond doubt saved my life. It was a rough ride, for both me and the surgeons. They had to deal with complications related to my anatomy, to the mess the first surgeon in Denmark had left – he had indeed damaged my muscles more than I ever knew – and to the problems relating to the soft tissue. I do know they did a great job, but due to all the mistakes, how complicated my case was and is, I am unfortunately not done. I have ongoing issues and though some of these could have been avoided with the right approach from the beginning, some are just the way it is with these conditions.![The Christopher Ellington Story – A Chiari Warrior’s Journey [Updated]](https://dev.chiaribridges.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/hosp1.jpg)
