A Different Normal

By Krista Kellogg

I think one of the greatest myths of our modern world is that of work-life balance. Does anyone really ever achieve it? To me, it is a ridiculous concept as juxtaposed with the reality of our 24-hour everything environment. Sasquatch with a BlackBerry. It is certainly a myth of the first world, where we have the luxury of choosing our work and relying on the relative comfort of a decent working wage. I think it’s also a uniquely American condition, where it is perfectly normal to spend more time in your working environment than in your home environment and to fill the spaces in between by picking up, dropping off, and driving through. We don’t even have time to spell things out anymore, yet we are supposed to find balance between the boardroom and ballet lessons. This frenetic pace in which we live and work must have an effect on our bodies, minds, and souls. It can’t be good for us. For me, trying to manage a chronic disease under these conditions is like trying to protect a puffball of dandelion seeds in hurricane-force winds.

Managing a chronic disease like psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis takes time and patience, both precious commodities in my life. It also takes a keen understanding of one’s limitations (something we are ingrained to think we shouldn’t have). Just do it! Make it happen! Be all you can be! To combat these modern-day marketing mantras, sometimes I have to talk to myself out loud about my own needs. “Slow down.” “You are in pain.” “It’s ok to rest.” These basic requirements should be elemental, but amongst the din of email alerts, text vibrations, and never-ending deadlines, my voice becomes quieter and quieter, until only crisis (or extreme pain) can avert me from the hamster wheel. Then, I feel guilty for being a sloth. This is no way to live or work.

For me, learning to live with a chronic disease is learning how to take care of myself. There are certain truths about it. These are mine (in no particular order): 1. I have a chronic autoimmune disorder for which there is no cure; 2. If I don’t apply my medications everyday, twice a day, I will flare; 3. If I don’t do my light treatments, I will flare; 4. If I don’t get enough rest, I get stressed; 5. When I am stressed, I flare; 6. If I don’t tell the people around me that I have limitations, they don’t know (this includes bosses, colleagues, husbands and doctors); and 7. Saying “no” is not a crime. It seems simple. It’s not. Try as I might, there are times that I ignore my truths because I am too busy getting ahead, being better, doing more. There are consequences. There are flares.

And then, I have to begin again. Throw away the old maps, retrace the path to my truths and head out to find the ever elusive work-life balance… my life’s work.

Krista Kellogg was elected to the National Psoriasis Foundation Board of Trustees in 2006 and currently holds the position of chair-elect. She is chair of the Board Governance Committee and a member of the Development, Finance and Outreach Committees. She also served as chair of the 2011 National Volunteer Leadership Conference. Krista has palmar-plantar psoriasis.  She lives in Miami, Florida, where she is the marketing director at the law firm of Stearns Weaver Miller.

By Karin Gelschus

Karin Gelschus was diagnosed with lupus at 23. She currently works as an interactive marketing specialist at CaringBridge, a nonprofit providing personal websites that connect people experiencing a health challenge to their family and friends.

I was reading through the CaringBridge site of a friend who was fighting kidney cancer. After a few years of countless treatments and doctor’s appointments, he was done. He had beaten cancer. His years of hardship were summed up in a few simple, but powerful sentences. He was walking away from cancer…for good.

While I in no way shape or form was comparing my condition to what he went through, I couldn’t help but feel jealous that he was done. No symptoms. No swallowing dozens of pills. No planning around how good or bad he may feel. He was done. He walked away.

Can I walk away? Not yet, most likely not ever as there is no cure for Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) or many other autoimmune diseases.

It was never a death sentence, but at 23 years old, it was hard to come to terms with my lupus diagnoses.

In a 90-degree waiting room filled with people with an average age of 70, my dad said, “We’ll get through it.” Tears had already surfaced. “Karin, you’re a fighter. We can take this on.”

That day my dad’s comforting words held me together, and his confidence stayed with me through years of ups and downs.

Encouragement and support are the strongest pills anyone with a chronic illness can take.  CaringBridge offers that medicine every single day through its sites. I’m able to visit my site any time and read all the encouragement and support my family and friends have left me through guestbook messages.

There are times when I can’t help but wonder if there will ever be a day in my life when I get to say, “I’m done.”  Will I ever get the chance to walk away? Who knows, but in the meantime, those messages give me strength to power through the daily frustrations of my lupus journey.

What helps you or your loved one get through the everyday challenges of a chronic illness? Share your thoughts in the comments below or in our Chronic Conditions community.

By Maya Brown-Zimmerman

How many of you know what it’s like to be living with an “invisible illness?”  Do you have a condition that affects every part of your life yet people assume you are fine because you look fine? I have Marfan syndrome, a genetic disorder that can cause problems in nearly every major body system. While there are skeletal manifestations, many times those symptoms are also found in the general population (just not all together), so you wouldn’t necessarily look at me and peg me as someone with a “condition.”

I don’t know how many times someone has made a remark about me taking the elevator, not “pulling my weight” or, my favorite, “you don’t look like there’s anything wrong with you.” While that is annoying, nothing has been as frustrating as the difficulty in being taken seriously by a doctor.

My mother knew there was something not typical about me shortly after birth. Although I was much longer than other babies in the family, needed multiple surgeries in my first year of life and was slow to meet physical developmental milestones, doctors continued to insist that I was just fine and that my mother was a paranoid first-time mom. Looking back, I’m pretty lucky that my pediatrician eventually recognized the physical manifestations of Marfan when I was 8 years old; too many “Marfs” don’t get diagnosed until much later in life…often in the ER when they’re having an aortic dissection (a tear in the large artery that takes blood away from the heart, which is always very serious and can be fatal) or in the morgue. Part of what makes Marfan tricky is that individually, many of the symptoms are common. These include being tall (but sometimes just tall for your family), very flexible, having a curved back (scoliosis) and having long fingers. However, when all these symptoms appear together in one person, it warrants a closer look and an echocardiogram to check the heart valves and aorta is necessary. There are no outward symptoms of potentially life-threatening aortic enlargement.

Of course, Marfan syndrome isn’t the only invisible illness. In November, I heard from many of you with fibromyalgia, a disease with no physical manifestations, which causes debilitating pain. Rheumatoid arthritis is another painful, hard-to-detect illness. My three-year-old son has autism and, much as people seem to think there is one, I’ve yet to find a mark on his body that reads “this is what autism looks like.”

So we need to try to keep in mind that we don’t know everyone’s struggle. That seemingly able person with the handicap placard might use it because fibromyalgia makes it too painful to walk, or because Ehlers-Danlos syndrome causes their joints to dislocate. The teen walking instead of running in gym might have a heart condition. That child having a meltdown in the grocery store may be having a sensory overload due to autism or sensory processing disorder. And if you think someone around you might have an invisible illness and not know it, don’t be afraid to gently speak up. You might save a life!

Do you have an invisible illness? How did you get it diagnosed? How do you handle people being less-than-tolerant of you because your disability is not readily apparent? Share your thoughts in the comments below or in our Chronic Conditions community.

Maya Brown-Zimmerman, MPH, is a patient advocate and volunteer with the National Marfan Foundation as a member of the board of directors and coordinator of the teen program. She also chronicles the ups and downs of parenting two sons with special needs while having a chronic illness herself at Musings of a Marfan Mom and the Sensory Processing Disorders Blogger Network.

By Krista Kellogg

For many, staring down the barrel of chronic disease for the first time is deeply frightening. It’s not easy when you realize that “chronic” really means “forever.” There is an evolution of emotion that takes place when you face this most personal of betrayals, that of your own body against itself. You feel broken, spoiled, like damaged goods with no return policy. In many ways, you go through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I meet hundreds of psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis patients like me, working their way through the process, through the pain, through the embarrassment, through the disappointment of failed treatments. The waves of disease can be unrelenting and unforgiving, wearing down your resolve and wellbeing. It takes great effort, preparation and maintenance to steel yourself against the ever coming tide of aches, flakes and cracks.

One of the most critically important aspects of proper disease management is finding and establishing a healthy relationship with your physician or physician assistant (“PA”). Time and time again, I hear from people who are struggling with their psoriasis and one of the most common themes of the struggle is a frustrating or dissatisfied relationship with their dermatologist or rheumatologist. In my experience, not until you identify a physician or PA who is both qualified and committed can you begin to move through the phases of the chronic disease journey to full-blown acceptance.

When you have a chronic disease, a long-term patient-doctor relationship that is built on mutual respect, open communication, trust and compliance is fundamental. The other half of the equation is a commitment to yourself — a commitment (and the confidence) to ask for what you need, to demand the best and most comprehensive care, and muster the courage to move on if you are dissatisfied.

As with many chronic diseases like psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis, there are a host of ancillary health considerations that come with the territory.  These can range from psycho-social and self-esteem issues to associated diseases like heart disease and obesity. Because of these inherent complexities, it is our responsibility to seek the best and most thorough approach to treatment. Because of these complexities, it is also easy to become overwhelmed and confused.

One way to combat the confusion and find a healthcare provider who is also a partner is to know your rights as a patient. The National Psoriasis Foundation has published a “Patient Bill of Rights” that is an excellent affirmation of such rights.  While it addresses the psoriasis patient, it translates easily to other chronic conditions and is a reminder to all of us to take our health and overall wellbeing seriously and to demand that our healthcare providers do the same.

Krista Kellogg was elected to the National Psoriasis Foundation Board of Trustees in 2006 and currently holds the position of chair-elect. She is chair of the Board Governance Committee and a member of the Development, Finance and Outreach Committees. She also served as chair of the 2011 National Volunteer Leadership Conference. Krista has palmar-plantar psoriasis.  She lives in Miami, Florida, where she is the marketing director at the law firm of Stearns Weaver Miller.

By Peter Abaci

If you are reading this post, you are probably already well-versed in how chronic pain can interrupt your own — or a loved one’s — ability to perform simple activities and function on a day-to-day basis. You may even start off your day dreading the thought of just trying to get through it. When we hurt, we tend to shut down physically and even emotionally. It is our natural tendency to protect a part of our body that has been injured or is uncomfortable. If our right leg hurts, then we naturally shift our weight to our left leg. This basic, inherent guarded behavior pattern can be considered protective at times of acute injury. When we first sprain our ankle, staying off of it for a few weeks helps it heal.

Unfortunately, this behavior pattern loses its protective benefit once the condition lingers and/or the pain becomes more chronic. In fact, this avoidance behavior is generally believed by many pain experts to significantly contribute to the severity of chronic pain symptoms. The medical term for this is fear-avoidance, and it defines a thought process in which an individual fears the presence or potential exacerbation of pain to the point of avoiding activities. Unlike the acute injury model, developing fear-avoidant behaviors when dealing with chronic conditions becomes maladaptive in that it increases one’s physical disability and contributes to emotional distress.

Let’s go back to the example of the sprained ankle and suppose we stay off of it, not just for a few weeks, but rather for six months. In this scenario avoiding using the injured body part becomes harmful, as opposed to helpful, to the healing process. Staying off of the injured leg for a prolonged period of time can lead to all kinds of physical changes, including a stiffening of the joints, muscle atrophy throughout the whole limb, and scar tissue buildup. Physical changes will start to occur throughout the rest of the body as well, which will cause problems like postural changes and overuse of other parts like the uninjured leg. Once we become fearful of re-engaging our bodies after it is in pain or has been injured, then this avoidance behavior gradually leads to changes that ultimately leave us much more disabled and, sadly, in even more pain.

Inactivity and avoidance should be considered painful. In the example above where we stop using one of our legs for six months, you can imagine that the leg will hurt more and more as it gets weaker and stiffer, and the longer we wait, the more it will hurt when we try to use it. If we continue to over-use our good leg, then it will also start to hurt from the excessive pressure exerted on it. In my experience, disrupted gait patterns eventually lead to lower back pain, too. Now, if we add assistive devices like canes or crutches, then we run the risk of straining our hands, arms and shoulders, too. Before you know it, we are practically hurting all over.

Overcoming fear-avoidance is tricky business, but an important part of winning the battle against pain. Our pain changes the way we think and makes it difficult for us to recognize when we have developed irrational fears or behavior patterns that stand in the way of getting better and feeling better. Most folks need some help seeing past the pain to start believing that moving something that hurts will eventually help make it stronger and less painful. For some, working with experts in movement like high-quality physical therapists, Pilates instructors, or trainers can help get the ball rolling. In other cases, learning tools to better manage anxiety and fear through special techniques like relaxation training and breathing exercises can have a big impact. Achieving just small but steady gains over time can eventually lead to larger triumphs and personal transformations. I routinely see patients come in with walkers, canes, and all sorts of physical limitations that are able to learn how to walk, climb stairs and, in some cases, even jog on a treadmill. Overcoming chronic pain can mean working through some serious fears and misconceptions about your condition, but the rewards make it so worth it.

Peter Abaci, MD, is the Medical Director of the nationally recognized Bay Area Pain and Wellness Center, located in Los Gatos, California. A widely respected expert on chronic pain management and a highly successful chronic pain sufferer, he is the author of Take Charge of Your Chronic Pain: The Latest Research, Cutting-Edge Tools, and Alternative Treatments for Feeling Better.

By Sona Mehring

Sona Mehring is the founder and CEO of CaringBridge, a nonprofit providing free, personal websites that connect people experiencing a health challenge to their family and friends, making each health journey easier. CaringBridge sites offer a personal and private space to communicate and show support when health matters most. Follow Sona on Twitter – @gogosona.

The benefits of journaling about your health journey include stress relief, understanding how far you’ve come and finding an outlet for your emotions. Some people choose to keep a private journal and many are now taking to the Internet to share their story using social media.

Keeping an online journal can:

• Serve as a reminder of how you reacted to procedures, medications, etc.
• Give your friends and family a better understanding of your situation and how they can help.
• Give you an outlet to share your story and emotions, and then move on.

If you share your story online for other people to read, it can sometimes be difficult to decide how much to write. Should I describe everything I’m going through? Should I keep it strictly to health events? Do people want to know detailed medical information?

There is no right or wrong answer to these questions. The information that is shared will differ from person to person depending on comfort levels and can also differ depending on the tool you’re using as your journal. For example, you may post more personal information if you know exactly who is reading your journal because it is password protected or invitation only. Or, you may want your site to be open to everyone so that others going through a similar situation can find you and learn from your experience.

Just remember, the journal is ultimately for you. Do what feels right for you and your situation. If you are uncomfortable or struggling to decide what to write, take a break. You can also read someone else’s journal for inspiration.

Take care to choose an online tool that is appropriate for you and provides the options you’re looking for. When sharing your health journey, you deserve privacy and respect; that’s why at CaringBridge we’ve outlined our unique approach to privacy, which may be different from many other online sharing tools.

I welcome any comments about your experience with journaling. Do you keep a private journal or share it online? Have you experienced any of these benefits? Do you have advice for others on how they can get started? Share your thoughts in the comments below or in the Chronic Conditions community.

By Krista Kellogg

Recently, I missed work and stayed in bed all day nursing the fourth cellulitis infection that I have had in the past eight months. Not to be confused with cellulite, another condition that could also cause one to want to lay in bed all day, cellulitis is a severe bacterial infection of the skin and underlying connective tissue caused by, among others things, chronic skin diseases like psoriasis. Cellulitis is painful, potentially life-threatening and requires immediate treatment with antibiotics.

I know all of this, of course, because I live with a chronic disease. A chronic disease that, while rarely life-threatening, requires constant diligence and special attention to avoid other life-threatening conditions like cellulitis. In this case, the special attention must be paid to my feet, for that is where my chronic scourge happens to be located. For the record, feet are not the easiest part of the body to care for. It’s especially difficult to prevent the cuts and scrapes that can lead to cellulitis episodes. Such prevention is extra challenging for someone like me, given that my cuts and scrapes occur on my feet before I even get out of bed in the morning. They happen without my even trying, or without walking on nails or barefoot over crunchy shards of glass. My feet are cracked and cut all or nearly all of the time. Such is life with “plantar” psoriasis, (we will save the story of plantar’s evil twin “palmar” for the sequel – but here’s a hint – “palm” is the operative word in her story). Even with diligence, one cannot underestimate the challenge of keeping one’s feet as clean as they need to be in order not to threaten one’s life. I need Marty McFly’s hover board, indoor fishing waders and antibiotic floor cleaner (a cheeky suggestion by my father, who also happens to be a physician).

I have the feet only a mother could love (by the way, my mother also has palmar-plantar psoriasis) but I’ve found another family that loves me just the same – an online family. When I found the National Psoriasis Foundation message boards, a world of support opened up to me. I’ve developed wonderful friendships with people through shared experiences, some with the disease, some treating the disease and some working to cure the disease. There were bleak days at the dawn of my diagnosis, when I was suffering and searching for answers. My only solace was the soft glow of my computer screen — the portal to my Foundation family. The Foundation’s online community was my lifeline to others with psoriasis and psoriatic arthritis. Living with a chronic disease can be very isolating. It is sometimes difficult to convey how much you are struggling. When you connect with others with the same story, you don’t really have to explain yourself (or your cellulitis) at all. My first post on the message boards read “Hands and Feet… Help.” Four little words that changed my life forever.

The National Psoriasis Foundation is on Facebook, Twitter and TalkPsoriasis.

Krista Kellogg was elected to the National Psoriasis Foundation Board of Trustees in 2006 and currently holds the position of chair-elect. She is chair of the Board Governance Committee and a member of the Development, Finance and Outreach Committees. She also served as chair of the 2011 National Volunteer Leadership Conference. Krista has palmar-plantar psoriasis.  She lives in Miami, Florida, where she is the marketing director at the law firm of Stearns Weaver Miller.

By Brian Rudd

Brian Rudd is a transplant liaison/advocate and motivational speaker.  He is a mentor for the Georgia Transplant Foundation and a volunteer for Donate Life Georgia, the state’s organ, tissue and eye donor registry. Brian serves on Emory Transplant Center’s Patient and Family Advisory Council. He has been a guest speaker for the Emory University School of Medicine and a key presenter at Georgia Transplant Foundation’s Wellness Conference.  He lives each day “Paying Forward” the gift of life he received.

I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. Almost 40 years ago to the day, my parents were holding a Christmas party at our house. It was 1971; I was 8 years old, and as my parents and their friends were socializing, my friends and I were socializing as well, running throughout the house, wrestling, drinking eggnog, running outside and back in, eating pie and playing hide-and-seek.

Later that evening, while all my friends were still going full-throttle, I began to feel very hot and tired.  So much so that I left my friends, went to my room and laid down on my bed, in the dark.  Not long after my mother found me. In a very lethargic tone I said, “I don’t feel good” and my mother got scared fast, because this was completely out of the norm for me or any of my three older siblings.

The next day found my mother and me at the pediatrician’s office, and with one blood sugar test my life, and that of my entire family, changed. Diagnosis: Juvenile Diabetes, Diabetes-Miletus, Type I Diabetes, Sugar-Diabetes, (or as hill-folk would say) “The Sugars”.  No matter what you called it back then I knew it must not be good because every time my mother told someone they would look at me as if I had been handed a fatal diagnosis. I had no idea that I would have to learn how to give myself insulin injections, check my blood sugar, count carbohydrates or discover the harsh meanings of the words hypoglycemia, insulin-shock, hyperglycemia, diabetic neuropathy and DKA (Diabetic Keto-Acidosis).

Once home, my mother called my father at work and told him the news. She hung up the phone and went into their bedroom. I walked in to find her making the bed and crying at the same time.  Not really understanding what was happening, I said the only thing that came to mind: “Don’t worry, Mom, everything’s gonna be ok.” What happened next is forever etched into my memory.  My mother came to where I stood, placed her hands firmly on my upper arms, squeezed and said, “Brian, no matter what happens I want you to remember one thing. The only limitations you will ever have in your life are those which you impose upon yourself.”

For the past 40 years, I have lived my life as such. Every morning I would wake up and, in a figurative way, a wall would rise up from the floor at the foot of my bed. Every day it was my job to figure out a way over, under, around or through that wall. I will admit there were some days, due to some of those conditions previously mentioned, that I did not find a way.  Nevertheless, I would lean up against that wall and say, “I am still here and I will be here tomorrow!”

The diagnosis of a chronic illness can seem like a multi-pronged attack on your life. The physical attack can be hard enough to deal with but when faced with the “social limitations” you can feel like the world is saying: “Here is your box, get in and don’t ever come out.  This as far as you can go.” But hey, what does the world know? It does not know you and it has no idea the potential you hold. My family always reminded me: “Don’t worry about what you don’t have.  Take what you do have and build from there.” One such instance became a major turning point in my life.

It had been my dream to become a pilot, but in the late 80’s the FAA told me I would not pass their medical. I said, “Fine, if I can’t fly it, I’ll jump out of it.” So, I took up skydiving. Not only did I become a skydiver, I also became an instructor. In the mid 90’s, one of our jump pilots told me that the FAA would now grant a private pilot’s license to diabetics. I grinned and asked him why I would want to fly the plane when I can fly ME?  He smiled and simply said, “Good point.” Skydiving was not the beginning nor would it be the end. I went on to become a climbing, rappelling and high-ropes course instructor. In the summer of 2011, my wife and I became certified Scuba divers and I am now looking to become a dive instructor.

Why all the instructor ratings? So I may teach, empower and show those travelling the road I’ve taken that impossible is just a word. I am here to show that a chronic illness does not own you. A chronic illness does not control you. It may be a part of your life but it is not, I repeat, NOT your life nor should it ever define you. Years ago, I was given a nickname and along with it, a definition:

WALLKILLER – (noun) survivor, odds beater, one who defies worldly constraints. One who adapts, improvises and overcomes. One who leaves the wall of convention in a crumbled mass as a symbol for those who follow.

When the world tries to label you, use WALLKILLER as a label instead. Find your way over, under, around or through. You are not alone. You have joined the ranks of many who have trod this way and many more to follow. You have been given a challenge; lean into it, grin at it, let it know you will make an object lesson out of it for others. I can say this because I have been there, I am there and no matter what happens I want you to remember one thing.

“The only limitations YOU have are those in which YOU impose upon YOURSELF.”

Share Your Thoughts. What walls has your chronic condition put up in front of you? What have you done to overcome them? Share your thoughts in the comments below or in our Chronic Conditions Community.

By Myrl Weinberg, FASAE, CAE

Over the past few months this blog has introduced us to many wonderful and touching stories.

We have learned about strong individuals and loving caregivers who have risen above the pain, and we’ve explored the nationwide networks made up of “the most amazing people in the world, who have become a second family.” We learned how important it is to “tell your story in an impactful and meaningful way,” and to seek support from patient advocacy organizations.

As we come to the end of 2011, many of us think about ways to give back to the organizations that have helped us over the past 12 months. How do we know which organizations will use our donations wisely? There are numerous worthy patient advocacy groups, and the National Health Council (NHC) recognizes that selecting which one to support can be a difficult decision.

One way to help you decide is to look for the Standards of Excellence^® certification logo on an organization’s website. This certification demonstrates that a patient advocacy organization meets the stringent requirements established for members of the NHC.

The NHC Standards are aligned with, but more comprehensive than, the Standards for Charitable Accountability adopted by the Better Business Bureau’s Wise Giving Alliance. The NHC Standards are also unique to patient advocacy organizations. To be certified, an organization must pass a thorough analysis of its operational documents, such as bylaws, audited financial statements and annual reports.

There are many different ways to strengthen the patient community. Continue to share your stories and advice on this blog. Reach out to other patients in need of support. Volunteer your time and talents. And, if you decide to donate to a patient advocacy organization, look for the Standards of Excellence^® logo on the organization’s website to ensure that your donation will be used efficiently and effectively for the good of patients.

More than 133 million people in the United States live with a chronic disease or disability, and the numbers are growing. Whether you have a chronic condition or not, your support of patient advocacy organizations helps people live better and healthier lives and advance the development of new treatments and cures.

Have a Wonderful Holiday Season.

Myrl Weinberg is president of the National Health Council (NHC), the only organization of its kind that brings together all segments of the health care community to provide a united voice for the more than 133 million people with chronic diseases and disabilities and their family caregivers. The NHC is made up of more than 100 national health-related organizations.

By George Segall, MD

The good news about diabetes is that with a healthy diet and lifestyle, along with appropriate medications, the disease can be controlled on a regular basis. Over time, however, many patients with diabetes experience complications such as high blood pressure, trouble with their eyesight and foot issues.

By being in tune with your body, you may be able to recognize some of these changes. A good working relationship with your doctor is also helpful. In fact, there are several advances in molecular imaging that physicians can use to help diagnose diabetes-related complications at an earlier stage.

People with diabetes are estimated to be 2-4 times more likely to develop cardiovascular disease than the general population. Unfortunately, many times heart disease occurs without any warning signs in patients with diabetes. With myocardial perfusion imaging—a type of molecular imaging—physicians have an effective screening tool for patients who may be at high-risk of developing heart disease, allowing for earlier and more effective treatment.

Foot-related complications are another problem for patients with diabetes. Diabetes can cause nerve damage and reduced blood flow to the bones and tissues of the feet, leaving patients vulnerable to infection. New molecular imaging techniques can detect infection at an earlier stage. By catching infection early, treatment can be prescribed sooner, sparing patients from amputation.

Disease management is a part of everyday life for patients with diabetes, and prevention is key. Being aware of your risk factors for diabetes-related complications and working with your doctor to mitigate them is crucial to ensuring a healthy life. If your physician notes that you are at-risk for a specific complication, there are options available for more information about your condition so you can plan appropriately.

George Segall, MD, serves as chief of the Nuclear Medicine Service at the Department of Veterans’ Affairs Palo Alto Health Care System, Palo Alto, Calif., and professor of radiology at Stanford University, Stanford, Calif. He is currently president of the Society of Nuclear Medicine and has published more than 60 peer-reviewed journal articles and authored six book chapters on nuclear and molecular imaging.

Do you know someone who struggled with diabetes? How did they handle the complications of the disease? Share your thoughts in the comments below or in our Diabetes Community.