Teen POTS and the case of the missing hand.

It's teen time here on the blog today. As all us old fogeys take our nanna naps, fellow Aussie, Rhinane, brings some of her youthful exuberance over to guest post. Okay, okay, I may be the oldest foggy here. And yes I can see 40 looming in the distance. But 15 seems very young, and 38 *cough* almost 39 *cough* correspondingly very ancient, to this old biddy, especially when my youngest is 14! Whilst I sit here sucking on my butterscotch lollies, reminiscing about "in my day..." whilst yelling at the neighbourhood kids to get off my lawn, I'll let Rhianne introduce herself.

"My name is Rhianne and I am a 15 year old with POTS, dysphagia, vasalva induced syncope and myclonic jerks. I blog over at http://keepsmilingkeeptrying.blogspot.com.au/ I try to live each day to the max because you are only a teenager once!"

Teen POTS and the case of the missing hand

One time... I lost my hand. It was the scariest minute of my entire life. Yes, it beats the lethal weapon at Movieworld.

Anyway, it was a real brainfoggy sort of day. I was doing schoolwork (I was home bound at this stage) and I was doing financial maths. I had to google there is seven days in a week. Then when I counted them and got to Friday, I freaked out. Where was my other hand?

Luckily, I eventually found my other hand. (Who ever would have guessed I was using it to count my fingers on my left hand with?) That is just one of the many situation that POTS has put me in. My constant brainfog provides me with constant entertainment.

This is me. My name is Rhianne and have been diagnosed with POTS since March of last year. I am fifteen, in year 11 and have a score of 13.8 million on temple run (just in case you're wondering). I run the blog http://keepsmilingkeeptrying.blogspot.com.au/.

Being a teen potsy isn't all doom and gloom though, I can colour coordinate my limbs with my purple converse boots.

Well I must admit, it isn't an exact match but teamed with an emerald school skirt with black full length skins, it is a great look. I should walk around with a ghetto blaster blaring LMFAOs "I'm sexy and I know it" because if anyone can rock that look, it would be me.

School also provides many more challenges (besides the whole wardrobe challenge), stairs, homework and the fact my friend love calling me Pothead. The last one is always awkward, especially when they love calling things out "like hey Pothead!" across the playground and people look around and find me the recipient is me.

After dealing with POTS symptoms for almost three years, I am learning to deal with symptoms better and better. And in the words of Elton John I'm still standing better then I ever did, looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid.


Rhianne