Tag Archives: relapse

Why All Recovered Floxies Are Only 99% Better

Every Friday Michelle Polacinski, a Floxie as well as the Director and Producer of ‘Floxed,’ sends out a newsletter to those who have subscribed to the ‘Floxed’ newsletter. The Floxed Friday updates are always interesting and thoughtful, and Michelle has given me permission to share them here. 
 
If you would like to receive the Floxed Friday updates directly from Michelle, please subscribe to the Floxed Documentary email list. You can subscribe through THIS LINK. Subscribing also helps Michelle to gain funding for the Floxed Documentary, and she doesn’t send out spam. 
 
The following was written by Michelle: 

It’s hard to bounce back from Fluoroquinolone Toxicity Syndrome. In fact, many people never do. For those who do, you may ask, How do you feel? Are you back to normal? Are you at 100%?

I don’t know a single floxie comfortable with saying they are 100% better. I never have. I also don’t think it’s possible to be “back to normal” or to who you were previously when something like this happens to you.

It’s traumatic. It changes your perspectives on life, on the medical system, on what the heck an antibiotic is, on what you put in your body, and the significance of everyday things. How can you ever be back to who you were, especially when you come back from a horrifying disability?

And no, rarely anyone can say they are 100% better because flare ups happen. Some symptoms never go away. Even if you feel good for years, one day you wake up with the worst chest pain in your life and you wonder, “Is this an aortic aneurysm?”

EBV and Nerve Damage:

I felt this way more recently with the onset of Epstein-Barr virus, which affects approximately 90% of the population, commonly known as mononucleosis or “mono,” and going back to a lot of the same supplements I took every day for years when I was at my worst.

I’ve been dealing with numbness in my hands again and it’s horribly frustrating. This came up after taking cacao, a neurostimulant, and it made me wonder, Are my hands getting better or worse?

A thing we floxies say is that “healing comes in waves.” Really. You’ll feel a symptom and it may come and go over the matter of a few days or weeks or months before you start to feel it get better. Maybe my long-time nerve damage in my hands is going through a healing process again thanks to the cacao or maybe it’s getting worse. I’ll never know and there is probably no PhD, no expert on Planet Earth, who has the answer to that question, so I just have to wait it out like everything else.

So for now, my pee is bright yellow all thanks to high levels of b-vitamins in my system, you know, to stimulate nerve healing, mitochondria healing, and all that stuff. Amy Moser mentioned in our interview that it takes about a month for one inch of nerve to heal and that her nerves are forever damaged after 8 years, so she believes.

Who knows?

What’s next for the Floxed Team:

We have awesome news to share.
We’re finally all meeting in Los Angeles to shoot some of our bigger interviews (shh) with some big researchers and medical professionals in the field next month.

I’m very excited since LA was my home when I was floxed and I can’t wait to meet some of these people I’ve only spoken to online or over the phone. I’ll be meeting even more friends/floxie family while we’re out there and this is my first time back home since getting floxed.

We’re also applying to more grants and we feel very positive about them, especially one that particularly focuses on female filmmakers making films about disability awareness (heck yeah we are).

***Wish us luck and please cross all your fingers and toes that we can get some of these grants. It would push the process along much faster***

Have a great weekend!

Best,

Michelle Polacinski
Floxie, Director, and Producer of ‘Floxed’

 

Healing from Fluoroquinolone Toxicity Takes Time, Perseverance, Strength, and Kindness

Ruth wrote this as an update/guest post. You can read Ruth’s story of fluoroquinolone toxicity in “Ruth’s Story – Cipro Toxicity.” You can also listen to Ruth’s story through her episode of The Floxie Hope Podcast. Ruth has offered her insight and wisdom to thousands of “floxies” over the years. As of the publishing of this post, her story has almost 1,600 comments. If you read through them, you will see how Ruth has generously given her time, insight, wisdom, and advice to those who are struggling. The comments are just a small sampling of what she has given to the fluoroquinolone toxicity community. Ruth has given so much to others while going through the ups and downs of fluoroquinolone toxicity herself. She is a kind, thoughtful, generous, person, and I am honored to call her a friend. As you will see from the post below, she can use a bit of encouragement and appreciation, so I’ll take the time to say thank you to her. THANK YOU, RUTH! 

Floxiehope update 7/19/18

I’m not 100% healed yet. I had another relapse lasting a few months during the second half of this school year. My blood pressure kept going up in response to doing just about anything. I felt overwhelmed just about all the time. Earlier in the school year I would go work out after school and feel marvelous afterward. When the relapse started by the time my teaching day ended my blood pressure would be up way too high for me to exercise. This caused my base line blood pressure to hover around 140/90, which is what happens when I don’t do any cardio. But by the end of a day it would be 170/110 or higher.

Friends kept telling me to go on medication for high blood pressure but I just didn’t feel like my problem was with the cardiovascular system. It seemed like my autonomic nervous system was sending the wrong message and that was what was ramping up my blood pressure and heart rate. If I was about to be eaten by a bear, this would have been an appropriate response. My body was responding to the stimulation of a normal teaching day as if I was in mortal danger. But like most flox symptoms, I knew this could stop happening at any moment, and I really did not want to be on strong antihypertensives when that happened.

Since the school year ended I have been feeling better. Still mildly hypertensive, but better. I need to clean up my diet and exercise more. I’m working on that but I have not been checking my BP right now as if it is a little high that upsets me, which is counterproductive at this point. I don’t get that feeling of increasing anxiety, of things being overwhelming or of my blood pressure sky rocketing. If anything I feel a lot more normal than I have for years.

Not being able to work out definitely hurt me when fireworks season started, so I got really sore. At first my back hurt, then my core and abs hurt and then nothing hurt and I could lift whatever I needed to. It was amazing how fast my body recovered and gained strength. I’ve been more motivated to work out and especially to strengthen my core.

I would say the most troubling aspect of my post flox life right now is new floxies who ask me for advice and then get completely freaked out that I still have relapses and am not symptom free. They accuse me of lying to them. They block me on Facebook. They tell me I have not really healed very much and they need to find someone to talk to who has healed. Once again, I felt the temptation to turn my back on the flox community forever. It seems that since I didn’t heal 100% some floxies feel I have nothing to say. I almost believed them.

But my story is my story. My healing journey is my own and no one else’s. It is my belief that I will see 100% healing but I think it will take between six to seven years total. I think the very stressful job I had prior to this year pushed my nervous system to make more repairs and when it did that I felt it. I think this year I pushed myself way too hard doing administrative tasks for teaching with a nervous system that still does not like too much of that kind of thing. I love my new school and Wisconsin has merit based pay for teachers. I put in a lot of time on grades and lesson plans so that at the end of the year I had the documentation I needed to show I did my job. It pushed my nervous system when I was spending ten hours on my day off doing stuff for school. That’s a long time to sit and enter data into a computer. For anybody.

I think also there is an emotional aspect to dealing with getting floxed and I couldn’t do it right away. I couldn’t even cry without it feeling like someone was squeezing my brain. I didn’t have normal emotions for years. Aspects of my personality were missing that didn’t come back until year three. Suddenly, this school year, I had the emotional capacity to ask, “What just happened to me? How do I feel about this? Am I coping all right with this?”

I was so busy though, working so hard at my teaching job and I did a lot of arranging music for my choir this year also. They do better with three part music than four part, so I arranged public domain hymns into three part choir anthems. Between the two jobs every spare minute was spent concentrating, bent over a computer screen. But my brain didn’t want to concentrate on all that stuff or on teaching my classes, it wanted to process what had happened to me when the flox bomb went off in my body and brain four years ago. Some of what I was experiencing toward the end of this school year may actually have been PTSD.

So as fireworks season winds down and I have more time I am working at healing not just my nervous system but my spirit. I’m giving my brain time to just do nothing, think of nothing. I’m giving my body time in nature to just experience things like swimming and hiking. I have had to let go of the dream of a perfectly clean house before school starts. I have had to allow myself time to heal. Not physically. I am pretty much physically healed. Time to heal mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

I probably am still lacking a few receptors for gamma amino butryic acid compared to if I had not been floxed. I do believe that those will be replaced eventually because I believe in neural plasticity.

I am still a bit low on magnesium, but now it takes working hours in 95 degree heat and humidity for me to notice it. My teeth started to feel loose while I was drenched in sweat working to set up fireworks shows, but as soon as I took some magnesium they tightened up and the anxiety I had felt building went away. I used to notice symptoms of magnesium deficiency like that if I didn’t take some every two hours just sitting around indoors.

I used to have to eat breakfast and take a magnesium pill the moment I woke up. Now I walk two miles or more before breakfast and I don’t always remember to take magnesium before I do it. I have noticed that my legs don’t hurt no matter how much I walk or stand. It takes a lot for me to get physically tired. So I am making progress, and I definitely think my cells will once again be healthy and filled with magnesium and I won’t have to take as much as many magnesium pills as I do now to keep them that way.

I think what really remains for me to reach 100% healing is for me to completely come to terms with what happened to me, to recover from the PTSD the experience seems to have caused. I was in a situation in which my body was failing me, I didn’t know how bad it was going to get or even if I would die. The flox bomb going off can cause some shell shock. Only if you have experienced it can you understand that, and realize I am not meaning to diminish the PTSD experienced by our soldiers. But like them, keeping busy can only delay the PTSD symptoms. Eventually, our mind says, “Hey, this thing happened, and it was really bad, and I really need some help to cope with it, because I really couldn’t cope at the time and I’m not sure I can now.” We can get physical symptoms that are a manifestation of our inability to cope– like my blood pressure and heart rate constantly becoming elevated. I wasn’t overwhelmed with my teaching duties, per se, although I may have pushed a little nervous system healing by doing so much computer work. What really caused my last relapse was my absolute need to stop, to pause, to reflect, to heal from that flox bomb. Not physically. That part of my healing is very nearly complete. I need to heal mentally.

I need to stop and rest so that my mind can process what happened and be ok with it and pause and see that I really am ok now.

I think what I have to say has value even though I am not 100% recovered yet. It would be nice if there were some magic pill, a miracle cure that could make flox damage go away instantly. There’s not. And even after the physical damage heals, there is the emotional aftermath. Personally, I think someone who has coped with the flox bomb for four and half years may just be able to give better advice about coping with getting floxed than the person who managed to heal in a few weeks. Even if a floxie does everything the quick healer did it does mean he or she will heal as quickly. We are all different. There are no guarantees. There is no protocol for treating FQAD. It’s great when someone can share a supplement they took and someone else feels a bit better from it, but none of us are sharing overnight cures, because there are none.

Getting floxed does a tremendous amount of damage to the human body. That the body can heal it is amazing. That it can take a significant amount of time to do so is frustrating. That it sometimes cannot heal all the damage is a real possibility. Talking to people who healed slowly, who faced the fact that they were damaged badly enough that they may not heal all the way, is going to provide wisdom that is way more important than what supplement or treatment you could try.

I have always believed that improving parasympathetic nervous system function was at the core of healing floxies. Learning coping skills is all about choosing “rest and digest” over “fight or flight” no matter what is happening to you. Not saying it’s easy. But it’s a choice of learning to live life despite your circumstances, or deciding your life is over because your circumstances aren’t good. I have learned to make a great life for myself even when my circumstances were pretty crummy.

When I look back over the past four and half years, most of my memories are good. There are some pretty horrible ones in there too, but once I got past about month four or five, I could live even with the symptoms I had. When I look back on those times I remember the things I did, my accomplishments, and the people I spent time with. I really don’t remember the symptoms I was having, or if I do it is in passing and they certainly don’t dominate my memories.

Here’s something else to consider. How many people do you know with perfect health? Everybody has some issue(s) they are dealing with. Some of the middle aged women who work at my school have told me of their struggles with menopause and I have to say, other than that rough stretch toward the end of the school year, I generally feel a lot better than they do. I’m floxed, yes, but I can think of a lot of people who aren’t floxies who aren’t as healthy or as active as I am.

I’m four and a half years out and I still have some healing to do. But when I look at where I started compared to how I feel today, I know I am blessed. I’m incredibly saddened when floxies decide I have nothing to say to them because I didn’t heal 100% yet.

I think we need to treat one another better in the flox community. I actually know of some people who healed 100% who no longer are willing to support other floxies. Perhaps the behavior of floxies seeking help actually drove them away from the flox community. When seeking out advice of another floxed person, it is important not to forget that this person probably went through hell and may still be struggling with issues, struggling to cope with what happened to them, just as you are. Most are happy to share advice and emotional support, but few of us are medical professionals and we aren’t getting paid to help other floxies. We do that out of the goodness of our hearts. If advice we give isn’t helpful, then say thank you and move on. But don’t expect any floxie to have the magic bullet. There isn’t one. It is going to take time for you to heal.

Our society does not like to admit that some things that are painful are going to be that way for awhile. When I was widowed back in 1993 I had friends tell me that if I was still feeling sad in a month or two there is probably something wrong and I would need to get some professional help. I know a floxie who was prescribed Benzodiazepines because she lost a loved one. When she took Cipro it threw her into Benzo withdrawal, but she would never have been in that situation but for this idea that any suffering is intolerable and must be medicated away. This may be why our medical system does such a terrible job of treating chronic illness. It is quicker to prescribe a pain pill to get rid of the symptoms than to really dig into the cause of the illness.

Anyone who has dealt with grief knows the time line my friends suggested when my husband died was way out of whack. The floxie time line is more similar to the grief time line than anything else I can think of. And like grief, it may never totally go away. It will never be as if you had not loved and lost. You are forever changed. It will never be as if you were never floxed. I am forever changed because I got floxed even if I have more healthy mitochondria then when I started, if every cell of my body is brimming with magnesium and all my antioxidants are functioning beautifully and if I have more GABA receptors than I started with, I still experienced the flox bomb go off in my body and it was beyond horrible. That experience will always be with me as much as the moment I heard that my husband had been killed.

A few Sundays ago I played a hymn in church that had comforted me after Danny died, and suddenly I was crying so hard that I couldn’t sing and it was like I was 25 years old again and going through all that grief the first time. Some wounds don’t ever really go away, but you can live with them. You can survive and thrive and sometimes, even grief feels good. I can cry again without it feeling like someone is squeezing my brain. How I cherish that blessed release tears can bring!Now I can cry about the flox bomb too, and probably, if I live to be 80, there will be a day that a certain memory hits me and I cry about getting floxed all over again.

I am just asking floxies who seek advice from other floxies to keep in mind that what we are all dealing with is a chronic illness. It lasts a long time for just about everyone. Some people are able to heal from it, which is amazing and wonderful. But even those who don’t heal, but learn to cope, have done a tremendous thing and overcome a lot. They should be celebrated and listened to, because learning to cope is over half the battle, and some scars are simply going to be there forever. It is way past time for the medical community to stop doing this to people. But at least we can treat each other well.

** The story above is truthful, accurate and told to the best of the ability of the writer. It is not intended as medical advice. No person who submits his or her story, nor the people associated with Floxie Hope, diagnoses or treats any illness. The story above should not be substituted for professionally provided medical advice. Please consult your doctor before trying anything that has been mentioned in this story, or in any other story on this site. Please also note that people have varying responses to the treatments mentioned in each story. What helps one person may not help, and may even hurt, another person. It is important that you understand that supplements, IVs, essential oils, and all other treatments, effect people differently depending on the millions of variables that make each of us unique. Please use appropriate caution and prudence, and get professional medical advice.

 

My Dear Friend Suzanne

My friend Suzanne was “floxed” as badly as anyone I have ever heard of. She was bed-bound for about a year. She was almost completely paralyzed for a period of time, and it even hurt for her to chew and blink. Every single tendon, ligament, and muscle in her body was damaged and weakened, and she experienced body-wide pain. She suffered from profound fatigue and weakness, and other toxicity symptoms that are far too numerous for me to list. Every cell in her body was adversely affected by the Cipro she took post-appendectomy. Her friends and family feared for her life for a long time, and there were even some times when she didn’t know if she would make it through.

She did make it through though. Suzanne was initially floxed in 2011, and I became familiar with her journey in 2012 when I saw a video of her taking her first steps post-flox (walking out of a pool while doing physical therapy). I had the pleasure of meeting her in-person in 2013 when we both went to Washington D.C. to advocate for fluoroquinolone toxicity awareness, recognition, and change in how fluoroquinolones are prescribed. At that time, Suzanne could walk several steps at a time, though her Achilles tendons were damaged in a way that made it impossible for her to put her heels to the ground, and she always had to have a wheelchair nearby. In-person I got to see what a strong, lovely, kind, thoughtful, interesting, and spirited person Suzanne is. We became friends after that meeting, and corresponded regularly.

In one of her messages to me she said, “While I appreciate your efforts in telling people that recovery is possible, I am not going to recover.  Too much damage has been done.  Some of the damage is irreparable.  I just need to come to terms with it.”

I responded with the post, “Redefining Recovery.” Here is an excerpt from it:

She knows her body, so who am I to argue with her?  She knows that the cartilage in her joints is not going to grow back.  She knows that she will never be able to do the physical things that she used to do with ease before she got floxed, because some of the damage done to her truly is permanent.  She will never run, she will never jump, she will never skydive or play soccer.

She has to come to terms with these things – these limitations that were unfairly and unjustly inflicted upon her.

She IS coming to terms with them.  As difficult as it is, she is finding peace and acceptance of her current condition and realistic future prospects.

Her story is not one of doom and gloom though.  Her story is one of perseverance and strength.  It is an amazing, beautiful recovery story.

My friend has come so, so, incredibly far.  She was completely paralyzed for a while – to the point where she couldn’t even chew and blinking was painful.  Now she can stand and even take a few steps.  She is working hard, with physical and mental therapy, to recover.  And she is recovering.  She is improving every single day.  She is working incredibly hard to do things that most people take for granted – chewing, walking, showering, having lunch with friends, etc.  She is doing those things.  Each one of those things is an accomplishment.  Each one shows recovery.  Each step that she takes is the result of a huge amount of strength, perseverance and bravery.

Suzanne continued to show a tremendous amount of strength and resiliency as her body healed. She had good days and bad, but overall, her momentum was forward, and her capacity increased. She never got to the point that she could return to work, or jog, or do many of the other things that she used to do pre-Cipro, but she did get back to living life. When I saw her again in 2016 she was able to drive, and even walk around without a wheelchair nearby.

Lisa and Suzanne

In 2017 she had a relapse in which the connective tissues in her hands and wrists were attacked, and she was scared that she wouldn’t be able to use her hands any more. Though that relapse was horrible and painful, she survived it, and emerged from it able to use her hands (not like she did before she got hurt by Cipro, but well enough that she was able to live her life).

In 2018 she has suffered a horrible relapse that she is still going through. She is completely bed-bound again, and is suffering from partial paralysis and severe pain. Her neck is swollen and painful, and it hurts for her to both swallow and breathe. She is suffering from CNS symptoms that include hallucinations and dark thoughts. She describes her situation as, “I am currently bed-bound, can’t walk or talk, and am living on baby food and pureed soup. I am suffering from extreme pain in the front of my neck and esophagus and also from central nervous system issues.”

Again, her family, friends, and community are scared for her. I’m scared for her.

I once wrote to her that if she was floxed as badly as I was, she would still be running–but if I was floxed as badly as she was, I’d be dead. I think it’s true too. She’s an amazingly strong person. She is far stronger than I am. She has been through so much pain and suffering, and she got through it, and now it’s being thrown back at her again. It’s awful, and I hate that such an amazing person is being subjected to such horribleness.

Though Suzanne is an incredibly strong person, this relapse is testing her strength and resolve. Her quality of life is horrible right now, and she is grasping for hope that things will get better. One glimmer of hope is that some fellow-floxies have been helped by stem-cell treatments, and she is scheduled to receive a stem-cell treatment in July. She has many obstacles to overcome before she can get the stem-cell treatment. It involves leaving her home and traveling thousands of miles–likely by plane–and that seems difficult-to-impossible right now seeing as she is completely bed-bound. Additionally, money is standing in the way. These treatments are expensive, and she needs help paying for her treatment. She has started a fundraiser to raise funds to cover the treatment and travel expenses. HERE is a link to her fundraiser page (or you can click the pic below to view it):

If you can please help by donating money, your help will be greatly appreciated!

I can’t know whether or not the stem-cell treatment will help Suzanne, but she needs something to work–something to help turn her body around again, and I hope that the stem-cell treatment will be that for her.

Suzanne is a dear friend and a wonderful person. She has helped hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the “floxie” community through providing guidance and advice. She has advocated for victims of fluoroquinolones endlessly in her community of Clearfield, Utah, in Washington, D.C., and also in our online community.

Any help you can give will be appreciated. Thank you for your consideration!

 

Can Floxies Drink Alcohol?

Many people have asked me if they can/should drink alcohol post-flox.

As with most things, the answer is – it depends, and everyone is different.

Some Floxies tolerate alcohol fine, while others don’t.

Alcohol is, of course, bad for you. It’s hard on the liver, and can lead to cirrhosis and alcoholic hepatitis. It burdens your liver’s detoxification abilities and hinders your ability to get rid of other toxins. Alcohol wreaks havoc on the gut microbiome, and can encourage candida growth. Alcohol weakens the immune system, and can make you more succeptible to other illnesses. I could go on and on because there are hundreds of articles about the harm that alcohol inflicts on the human body. No matter how many videos come out about tequila being a probiotic, or articles there are about wine containing resveritrol, alcohol is not a health elixir. It is not good for you.

HOWEVER, it is quite fun (IMO), and it even has some health benefits–it’s a painkiller and it reduces feelings of stress and anxiety. Alcohol has enough redeeming qualities that billions of people around the world, most of whom are aware of the negative effects of alcohol, consume it. I do, and so do many other floxies.

When I first got floxed, I stopped drinking for a while. My body was going hay-wire in every conceivable way, and I didn’t want to contribute to my problems by knowingly consuming a substance that is bad for me. I think that abstaining from alcohol during the acute phase of fluoroquinolone toxicity was the right thing for me to do.

Once my body stabilized (i.e. it stopped feeling like a bomb was going off in my body, and I even had some improved/normal days) I started having a drink every once in a while. Even though I could drink, I found that my tolerance for alcohol was greatly diminished. Before I got floxed I could handle three-ish drinks in an evening (and I thoroughly enjoyed drinking them). After getting floxed, my tolerance was one drink a night (that was barely enjoyable). I didn’t even want to drink more than that–I struggle to explain why, but I just felt done after 3/4 of a drink. Over time (I am now a bit over 5 years post-flox) my tolerance increased, and I can now comfortably have two alcoholic beverages in an evening. That’s plenty for me, in my personal opinion of how much I should/shouldn’t drink.

I never experienced a relapse in fluoroquinolone toxicity symptoms as a direct result of drinking alcohol, but other people have, and I encourage everyone who wants to drink post-flox to be very careful and cautious with alcohol consumption. Comments such as this one, from Bob (and the comment just above it when you click on the link, from Ann), are examples of alcohol triggering an increase in, or relapse of, fluoroquinolone toxicity symptoms:

After getting floxed I had relapses to alcohol which I only drank on vacation. I suspect this is due to severe kill off of gut flora. I am afraid to drink anymore.

This comment from Mark also notes that alcohol consumption can lead to fluoroquinolone toxicity symptom flares:

I cheated this weekend and drank alcohol/ate dairy. You know what? It flared up my cipro symptoms full force. Knee joints started cracking like crazy, achilles heal flare, etc. I’m convinced that we are all suffering an overgrowth of yeast and the faster we can get that under control, the healthier we will be.

Some people have a more moderate reaction to alcohol post-flox. This comment, from Ruth, is really interesting and insightful. Though she can drink alcohol without issue, she typically abstains:

I am able to drink again but my tolerance is greatly reduced. It won’t actually harm your gaba receptors because alcohol acts on gaba-b instead of gaba-a. I think it promotes healing.

When the alcohol downgrades the gaba-b subunit, I think the body makes repairs to some of the a subunits in order to put things back in balance.

I think when the FQ took out some of your gaba-a receptors your body gave you extra gaba-b receptors. This can make you a lot more receptive to the effects of alcohol. The b unit seems to be able to replace itself faster. That’s why alcohol withdrawal lasts a lot less long than benzodiazepine withdrawal. This is all just my theory. I have nothing to back it up with except my own experience.

Last year I got drunk at the Racine Zoo by accident. They hosted a teacher’s night and served spiked punches with no indication that they were alcoholic. I had what they had labeled as “Lesson Learned Lemonade.” I was thirsty so I slammed a big cup. At first I felt super relaxed and I thought that my nervous system must really be healing. Maybe it was that walk on the beach… and then I felt it. I knew it had been alcoholic. I ended up drunk off my ass, but not so bad that I couldn’t say “gamma amino butyric acid,” ha, ha. I got a brief relapse from that experience, of symptoms I had not had in a long time. After that ended my base line seemed higher.

So I think alcohol is not completely bad. However, it can devastate your gut microbiome, so I am very careful about it. I had a tiny tiny bit of Bailey’s at Christmas. I enjoyed it. Other than the holidays I abstain from alcohol for the sake of my healthy flora.

Although it won’t stop your nervous system from healing, remember that psych symptoms can also stem from an imbalance of healthy vs. unhealthy microbes. Alcohol can worsen that situation considerably so for the foreseeable future it is better to abstain. Farther down the road you will probably be able to have a beer now and then with no ill effects.

Some people have even found that alcohol has helped them. It is a pain reliever and relaxant. It reduces anxiety and stress – even the anxiety and stress that comes with getting poisoned by a pharmaceutical. Stress and anxiety reduction are crucial for healing from fluoroquinolone toxicity. Both Bronwen and Barbara noted that they felt better with moderate alcohol consumption.

Bronwen’s Comment:

As far as booze goes, I actually found one drink helped lessen my symptoms a bit when they were getting overwhelming in the evening – much to my surprise, but I have only ever read one other person that found the same thing – most find the opposite. Again, test yourself! I certainly could not have more than one drink. The liver is struggling along with the other organs, as the clearing house for toxins, so alcohol puts another burden on it.

Barbara’s Comment:

My saving grace is I am allowed wine 😁😁 hallelujah .I have been able to drink alcohol from the begining and in certain times when the pain was bad I swear it helped.

As you can see, reactions to alcohol post-flox vary considerably. So, what should your take-away from this post be? Should you drink alcohol, or not? I can’t answer that for you, because I have no idea how you respond to alcohol, or how much you enjoy consuming it. If alcohol isn’t your drug of choice, and you don’t particularly like it, don’t start drinking because some people have responded positively to its benefits. If you want to drink alcohol, it is, of course, best to do it in moderation. If you want to avoid all things that may trigger a relapse, or that are generally bad for the body, by all means, don’t drink. As with all advice for my floxie friends – it depends, everyone is different, and be careful.