When I heard my new specialist wanted to do autonomic testing, I was scared. I’d heard too many stories about people fainting and vomiting during autonomic testing. Dysautonomia made me so dizzy in the first years of my MCAS diagnosis that I was forced to crawl across my condo and couldn’t make it to work on time. But I had never fully fainted from it. I was able to lay down before my body fell down.
Standing increased my blood pressure, and sometimes my heart rate. When the pandemic began, the lines at grocery store deterred me from getting food. Luckily, I can now afford delivery, but some items are not available. If I have to go into a I store, I lean on a shopping cart to avoid losing my balance. After falling down the stairs several times, I stopped using them completely. (On more than one occasion, I’ve been asked if I avoid the stairs because my service dog is too short. Why is it so hard to accept invisible disabilities?!)
Tilt Table Test
Knowing fully well you may be minutes away from passing out or vomiting, the first task after being strapped to the Frankenstein table is to be totally calm to get a baseline reading of your vitals. After five years of MCAS and one epidural blood patch, I excel dissociating from my body. Super handy for medical procedures; not so great for processing emotion. (See also: reasons I need therapy.)
The goal of the tilt table is to measure your blood pressure and heart rate when you go from lying to standing. By using the table, instead of your muscles, we can better understand if the brain signals to the body are lagging.
“Okay you ready?” the doctor asked. I nodded and she pushed the button. The table motor chugged as it hoisted me up to 70 degrees. I braced for the worst.
As the table stopped rising, the pull of gravity took over. Within that split second, I decided:
YEP, I’M FUCKED UP.
What I remember is the heaviness of my body and the doctor’s incessant questioning. I felt like I was wearing a Kevlar suit and about to be sucked through the ground. I decided I would fight the tilt table with deep breathing and calm thoughts. As everything became quiet, dark, and slow, I tried to focus my eyes on a spot on the carpet like they teach you in yoga to keep your balance. Same thing, right?
What actually happened was documented by video. The doctor asked, “How are you doing?”
I responded, “Good.”
I WAS NOT GOOD.
“Any dizziness?” she asked.
“No, I just feel super heavy,” I said.
STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS.
“Any headache?” she asked.
“Super, super heavy,” I groaned.
SHUT UP. I AM BEING CRUSHED INTO A TINY DIAMOND.
Instead of speaking my mind, I politely closed my eyes.
Within a few minutes, the pressure subsided and I just felt weak.
After 10 minutes, the doctor lowered the table and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“My legs are all tingly,” I said. “There’s pain in my muscles.” Then I realized the pain was the blood rushing back into my legs. They had been numb the whole time I was standing.
“Your heart rate did not jump. This is not a diagnosis of POTS,” my specialist explained. “What we are finding is you had an adrenergic response meaning your blood pressure jumped and you were symptomatic.”
Although I expected the blood pressure rise, I was surprised my heart rate stayed normal. The doctor explained that my results supported the evidence that when I am triggered, my body maintains the reaction. In other words, I get stuck in flight or flight.
I’M NEVER FUCKING STANDING AGAIN.
“So we’ve got three more tests,“ she said.
“Cool,” I lied.
Deep Breathing Test
When my specialist explained the deep breathing test, breathing in and out deeply for one minute with the help of a computer screen, I was like:
I TRAINED FOR THIS MY ENTIRE CHILDHOOD IN THE ASTHMA CLINIC. AND I PLAYED THE TUBA.
I was feeling pretty confident after surviving the tilt table. While my deep breathing performance was perfection and my heart rate was normal, my mast cells protested.
“I’m cold,” I interrupted the doctor’s explanation.
“Like suddenly cold?” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
She retrieved a blanket.
“My chest hurts,” I said, remembering that bronchospasms can often feel like a heart attack.
“This test is like blowing up a teeny, tiny balloon,” my doctor explained. “So, you know how much pressure you have to put on a teeny, tiny balloon?”
“Yeah, until my jaw pops out,” I replied.
*NERVOUS LAUGHTER*
Luckily, my jaw did not pop and my CSF blood patch did not blow, but honestly, this was my least favorite test because worried about my Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) complications. My results showed a slightly delayed sympathetic response, unlike my tilt table test. Perhaps, my body was starting to wear out from testing. This test triggered a wicked headache that built for 12 hours.
Quantitative Sudomotor Axon Reflex Test (QSART)
After the surviving the tilt table, a little electricity didn’t fluster me at all. Four small plastic cups were taped to forearm, foot, and leg to measure amounts of sweat, or sympathetic response, generated by a mild electrical current. Sympathetic nervous system
“It does feel a little prickly, but I think you’ll be fine,” my doctor said. “How are you feeling?”
“Prickly,” I said.
“Maybe that’s an understatement,” she said.
“Yep,” I said.
WHO THE HELL DESIGNED THESE TESTS?!
For me, this test was tolerable, not really any worse than a MCAS skin reaction. My sweat was slightly low in a few places. No surprise, as I often skip my deodorant stick with no repercussions.
My doctor diagnosed me with hyperadrenergic dysautonomia. On a different day, could I have been diagnosed with another type, like POTS? Very likely. MCAS reactions vary day to day, impacting the autonomic nervous system in different ways. Just like in MCAS testing, autonomic testing is a snapshot of your body. It doesn’t capture how the condition can fluctuate. I also tested negative for small fiber neuropathy (think tiny melon ball-like scoops of skin).
The tests validated my need for treatment–although not beta blockers, because they can exacerbate mast cell reactions. Aside from treatment, there’s a lot of value in a formal diagnosis for other providers to understand my body’s reactions and to support disability accommodations. For example, one doctor was so obsessed with my high blood pressure that she dismissed my CSF leak. Now I can explain it as dysautonomia.
After my long day of autonomic testing, my friend asked, “Do you want to go out and celebrate?”
“Yes,” I said, suffering from one of the worst migraines of my life.
TAKE THE DAMN PICTURE.
May 2021 Update
MCAS treatment eliminated my dysautonomia symptoms completely. I no longer struggle to stand, use stairs, or get proper blood flow throughout my body. In fact, I have become a competitive figure skater!
Dr. Weinstock, a mast cell specialist, estimates MCAS causes 1/3 of POTS cases.
While autonomic testing helped me understand dysautonomia and salt, fluids, and fludrocortisone helped me short-term, pursuing MCAS treatment to reduce and eliminate my symptoms was a better use of my resources (e.g. time, energy, and money). If I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have done autonomic testing.
So interesting. Makes me glad I declined the beta blockers to treat my headaches/ migrations years ago before my EDS diagnosis. Gorgeous dress in your photo!
Thank you!
I’m so glad to hear your test results are leading you in the right direction. The tilt table was one of the worst experiences of my life…I vomited, passed out, was yelled at for closing my eyes, and then was told that the symptoms were due to the vasodilator (that they administered).
Thank you so much for sharing your story! I so grateful to have discovered you… a severe illness six years ago triggered all kinds of systemic issues, and after years of ruling things out, MCAS and ALPS and diagnoses look promising. It’s so reassuring to have a resource. 🙂
Thank you for reading! And I’m sorry to hear that was your experience. While I certainly don’t wish MCAS on anyone, I’m glad my story may help.
Darn, I could have written much of that!
I salute you fellow BAT!
Omg!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I think I’m general for just getting more awareness out there. My 14 year old daughter has been going thru absolute hell for about 2 years with MCAS, POTS, dysautonomia, gastroparesis, eds, and the medical field has such a long way to go with diagnosis, testing, and treatment. I love each and every story I read that helps spread awareness. It helps so very much to know….we are not alone. ❤
Thank you for reading! You’re definitely not alone.
My daughter is almost 16 and spent most of 2.5 years in bed! Nobody would listen to me about MCAS until about doctor 35! By supposedly accident I gave my daughter 2 24 hour Allegra and her usual Pepcid. In a month my daughter was able to go on vacation. Yes she crashed afterwards but still! The old doctor told me he never told me 2 24hour Allegra. So I took her off and backed down to 1. Sick kid again! Hmmm..
So doctor 35 put her back on 2 Allegra and upped her Pepcid. She is getting better! Next stop..Xolair!
Dont stop parents! You know your kids!
Next stop for me…I’m writing Ellen!
Every Dr I turn to thinks I merely have panic disorder. How do you suggest I get someone to listen? My Allergist said it sounds like Dysautonomia but that’s “above her pay grade”.
Thanks for your tour through hell so to speak.
Ask them for a referral to a cardiologist or neurologist for testing!
Hi!
You mentioned you were planning to share treatments that are not beta blockers. If you have a moment / energy could you expand on that?
I’ve recently basically got the symptoms of POTS and probably have MCAS. I’m in a catch 22 though. Beta blocker seems to be fast acting / helping me a greatly to get out of bed and live life. But I get rash from them after only 1 dose, so I can’t keep taking them and need something fast acting.
Thank you so much for sharing your story.
https://hellsbellsandmastcells.com/2021/03/19/blood-in-my-legs/
When you mentioned CFS leak – what does CFS stand for?
Thank you!
Cerebrospinal fluid
Was severe heat intolerance and temperature dysregulation part of your dysautonomia? Did MCAS treatment reduce or eliminate this for you as well?
My mast cells were triggered by heat. MCAS reactions affected my circulation and therefore my temperature. I don’t experience this anymore. (I don’t view dysautonomia as a separate condition for me because it was caused by MCAS for me.)