Diagnosis confirmed: amyopathic dermatomyositis

After three weeks, seven vials of blood, one vial of urine, and a computer tomography (CT) scan, my doctors have once again confirmed I have dermatomyositis.

Yet in true House episode fashion, this is an atypical presentation of dermatomyositis, called amyopathic dermatomyositis. In this instance, my skin itches, burns, and aches from the rashes on my arms, shoulders, and chest. But my muscles have not wasted enough to diagnose me with myositis.

Underneath my skin, my aldolase levels are still elevated. My breaths are sometimes shallow. I lost some muscle weakness. (But this could just as easily be all the corticosteroids I have been taking.) And my creatine kinase levels, which would indicate systematic muscle destruction, are within normal range.

Apparently, my body has decided having a very rare autoimmune condition does not make me special enough. According to Callander, Robson, Ingram, and Piguet, amyopathic dermatomyositis affects only 5‒20 percent of dermatomyositis patients. Doctors have only known about the condition since the early 1990s.

Good news at last

For the most part, this is great news. Exagen’s AVISE® test confirmed I do not have lupus, which can affect multiple organs. My urine and blood tests ruled out any kidney or liver damage. Functional muscle strength means I can maintain the quality of life I want.

However, amyopathic dermatomyositis is more likely to affect my lungs. Since my CT came back normal, for now, my doctors are not concerned. But interstitial lung disease remains a possibility. My immune system may also decide to begin attacking my muscles more severely.

My doctors and I will continue to monitor my disease. My rheumatologist has prescribed hydroxychloroquine (Plaquenil), an antimalarial drug used to combat autoimmune diseases. He has also started tapering down my steroids. And my dermatologist gave me a large tube of fluocinonide cream to keep the itching at bay.

Sometimes, being medically special is a good thing. A smile has returned to my face.

Becoming your own House episode

Six months have passed since scaly, irritating rashes first appeared on my elbows and knees. Based on my family’s medical history, my doctor thought it was psoriasis.

Two months later, a much larger, much more painful blistering rash appeared on my left arm. Another massive rash formed across the crest of my shoulders through my lower neck and across my chest.

This third rash—called a shawl rash by doctors—is characteristic of dermatomyositis. Add in what look exactly like all these other rashes along my joints (called Gottron signs), the results from two skin biopsies and from my blood tests, and I thought my dermatologist correctly diagnosed me.

However, yesterday’s visit to a well-regarded Phoenix rheumatologist put me right back where I was a month ago. We know I have an autoimmune disease. But after looking at the pathology reports and examining me, he hesitated to jump to a conclusion.

This is the point in an episode of House, MD, where the title character stares at his patient while his body fails him. Family demands to know what’s wrong. House replies, “I don’t know.”

Turns out, my skin biopsies only rule out psoriasis and fungal infection and confirm my immune system is attacking my skin. But as I mentioned in an earlier post, there are probably more quarterbacks capable of winning a Super Bowl than there are dermatopathologists who can differentiate dermatomyositis from lupus under a microscope.

Blood tests, at this stage, are also inconclusive. My labs show elevated aldolase—an enzyme that helps convert glucose into energy and points toward muscle damage. But all the tests for antibodies associated with myositis came back negative, except for one, which was barely detectable.

The rheumatologist also thinks my antinuclear antibodies are much too high for a typical dermatomyositis case. He also doesn’t think my muscles are weak enough.

All he is willing to conclude is I have interface dermatitis and dyspnea—that’s Greek for a complicated rash and shortness of breath.

This is the point in an episode of House, MD, where the title character stares at his patient while blood appears in the urine bag. Family members demand to know what’s wrong. House replies, “I don’t know.”

“I need answers, not tests, people,” I want to scream.

He re-assembles his team around the glass table, writes “kidney failure” on the white board and pours himself a cup of coffee.

“I need ideas, people,” he barks at his hand-selected team of doctors.

It's not lupus. Except when it could be lupus.

No, my kidneys are not failing. And yes, my doctors know much more about my condition than House’s team does 33 minutes into an episode. But like House, my rheumatologist ordered more tests. I need a CT scan of my lungs. I need my urine analyzed. And my blood has been sent to a lab specializing in detecting antibodies and other biomarkers associated with autoimmune conditions.

“I need answers, not tests, people,” I want to scream.

To make the House parallels worse, my rheumatologist has suggested lupus. Where’s a wise-cracking misanthropic diagnostician when you need him?

Exercise and dermatomyositis

Exercise is important for all of us. For me, it may save my life.

The worst symptom of dermatomyositis is muscle weakness. This happens because when you have myositis, anti-inflammatory cells meant for fighting infection attack your muscle cells. Over time, without regular use, your muscles waste away faster than they would in a healthy person.

Exercise is one of the best ways to combat the muscle deterioration caused by dermatomyositis.

This, of course, means I will have to give up my dreams of becoming a fitness model for a Slavic-language bodybuilding magazine or the National Football League’s oldest rookie wide receiver. Similarly, I will no longer be moonlighting as a piano-moving, tuxedo-clad male stripper. Sorry, ladies.

But muscles are not just for opening safety-sealed jars and trying to embody all that is man. You use muscles every time you move, talk, blink, wink, beat, or breathe.

The body’s diaphragm and external intercoastal muscles operate the lungs and help expand and contract our chest cavities. If these become weak, breathing becomes tough. If they get weak enough, you can’t breathe at all.

The heart is also a muscle. If your anti-inflammatory cells begin to attack it, without treatment, your heart would eventually fail. Fortunately, heart involvement in dermatomyositis only occurs in about 10–15 percent of patients. Fortunately for me, my last electrocardiogram revealed no abnormalities.

Exercise is important for all of us.

For me, it may save my life.

To keep my lungs and heart healthy and regain the lost strength in my muscles, they need to be exerted and stressed. They need to continue to break down and rebuild themselves to combat my immune system.

My whole life I have stayed active, so working out adds nothing new to my routine. At times, I lifted weights, ran, or played touch football with friends as many as five days a week. The last several years, I added protein or creatine or other workout supplements to help build muscle and soften the jump over age 30—at which point, almost all men start to see their athletic performance decline.

So I’m ahead of the game. And doing more of the same—exercising, eating well—can only help me for now. Plus, turns out, creatine supplements are a safe, relatively inexpensive way to improve muscle performance and function in dermatomyositis patients.