Chronically Creative

Megan Fisher was a bodybuilder, champion equestrian and member of the British Army Reserve when, days after having her first child, she developed maternal sepsis. Since then, a landslide of conditions has dramatically impacted her body – but a new passion also emerged. Meet The Chronic Makeup Artist, a beauty influencer whose feeding tube launched her rise to fame.

You’ve been through so much since becoming a parent. How have you felt about not getting the ‘typical’ motherhood experience?

I had severe sepsis two weeks after giving birth, so I had a short period of that perfect motherhood bubble. Then all of a sudden I had mastitis showing up in my breast, and three hours after getting antibiotics from my GP I was being rushed to hospital in an ambulance. For three months after that I couldn't walk, function, or do anything for myself. And then once I recovered physically, my PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder] kicked in.

The worst thing about this was that my daughter, Mollie, was my trigger. Every time she vomited – and babies vomit a lot – I’d put my hands over my head, put my head between my knees and scream.

My husband Scott would run to help her, but I would just freeze. And that was the worst thing for me. My body was shutting me out of being a mother. I did therapy and my PTSD got better but even now, if she’s sick, it still triggers me.

I dreamt of teaching my daughter to ride horses, because I rode horses from age two. I can’t even sit on a horse right now – I’m currently using a wheelchair – but I’m always there for Mollie. Even when I’m in hospital, Scott will Skype me and she’ll talk to me.

Motherhood is not the way I wanted it to be, but I know many people don’t get a chance at it, so I’m taking all I can get from this. I’ve spoken to other mothers with chronic illness who are tube-feeding, and we pick each other up. I have one friend that says: “You’re still her mother. That girl looks up to you and loves you, regardless of what shape you’re in.”

I’ll bet Mollie takes all of the medical stuff in her stride.

It’s just so normal for her, she doesn’t question it. The other day, when she saw another woman in a wheelchair, she didn’t say, ‘why is she in a wheelchair?’ she said, ‘Mummy, she’s got a red wheelchair! You’ve got an orange one’.

She doesn’t focus on the negatives. For her – and kids like her, who grow up around long-term disability – all the taboo and the panic around seeing a disabled person is stripped away.

At Christmas, Mollie’s first instinct was to ask Santa for a Barbie doll in a wheelchair, because it looked like her mummy. That was the point for me where I realised, I am a mother. She clearly sees me, even though I feel invisible to her. She sees me as a good person, not this person tangled up in leads.

That idea of being invisible – in a broader, societal sense – is something you push against with your makeup artistry. Tell me how you came to start honing this skill in the midst of your health struggles.

It began in November 2021, when my mental health plummeted. In September I’d had a suspected stroke which affected the right side of my body – that’s why I’m in a wheelchair. I can’t walk and am currently doing rehab.

For me, going from having legs to not having legs is just unbearable. Before I got sick I was weightlifting and riding horses. I have a degree in sports science. I was working in the army and wanted to become a physiotherapist, but all of that went straight out the window. So it was a question of, what can I physically do now that I enjoy?

Holding a round makeup brush can be quite hard – my grip goes from my right hand – so I use Kohl Kreatives brushes that are squared off and designed for people with fine-motor limitations. I started off sticking to just my eyes, whereas now I do a full face and often quirky looks.

I’m not a professional in any shape or form. The other day I was looking at one of my videos, turning to Scott and saying, ‘my line work is horrendous’. And Scott was like, ‘at least you’re doing something’.

Makeup is my outlet. The colours I use really resonate with how I’m feeling. If I do pink and sparkly, that’s a good day. Other days I might use dark or more emotive colours. You might have seen my ABC look

Yes – the one where you painted ‘ABCDE… F YOU’ across your face.

That was a particularly bad day. I’d been out with Scott at the pub. The whole place was rammed and yet no one would sit at the table beside us. Five or six couples walked up, looked at me in my wheelchair with my tube and then turned around, walked away and stood.

While I was getting more and more self-conscious, Scott got to the point where, when the next couple came up to us and were about to retreat, he said: “Just sit down. We’re not going to bite. There’s nothing disgusting about this. You can eat through your mouth, some people have to eat differently.”

Well said, Scott. And on that note, tell me, when did you start eating differently?

The sepsis happened after I gave birth and as the months went by, gastrointestinal and neurological symptoms started appearing and kept progressing. In January 2021, it was like my body just gave up.

Over the next six months I lost over 25kg because I was vomiting everything I ate and drank. I also had repeated anaphylaxis and swelling. Eventually I was diagnosed with epilepsy and mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS). Essentially, I’m allergic to all food. That’s why my body was getting rid of it.

It got to the point where my weight was getting dangerously low, so I got a nasogastric (NG) tube, but once we worked out my stomach couldn’t tolerate food, I switched to a nasojejunal (NJ) tube. However, when I’d have seizures – and I have tonic-clonic, or grand mal seizures – the NJ would flip out of my intestine and into my stomach. In the space of six months I had 10 NJs. I’d get a tube placed, seize, and be back in the next day getting it replaced again.

That must have been incredibly traumatic.

Yes. And it meant I lost more weight. I got admitted to hospital because I was going downhill and the doctors diagnosed me with gastroparesis and decided that the NJ was doing me more trauma than good, so we went to a gastrostomy-jejunostomy (G-J) tube. In the months since that’s gone in I’ve had several major infections, so more tests are being run to get to the bottom of that.

If you’re allergic to food, what goes into your tube?

This has been a journey as well. After a lot of trial and error I’m now on a semi broken-down food. It’s not great – I still have reactions – but I’m getting nutrition in. Orally, I can have potatoes, gluten-free bread and a small amount of tuna and egg, and I’ve been trialling medications to help me eat more, because I’d love to go down the blended-diet route.

Usually I’m on 24/7 feeds, but today I’m not hooked up because I’m waiting on my medication delivery – the drugs to keep me stable enough to accept my feed. I’ve just been running fluids – but that’s a bad day for me.

Speaking of your medication, Scott made news headlines when he completed 27 marathons in 27 days to help fund research into MCAS. This epic effort was inspired by the 27 different medications you need to take every day – is it still this many?

I’m now on 30-plus meds and Scott’s already planning his next great mission to raise money for MCAS. He’s my rock. Scott has stood by me every single step of the way and I’m very, very fortunate. I have friends in the tube-feeding community who’ve had people just turn on them, saying it’s their fault. It’s not anyone’s fault if they’re struggling to eat. It’s not like we can just click our fingers and eat a chicken dinner.

Scott is a massive advocate for my makeup work, too. He’s faithfully sat through every episode of Glow Up and keeps coaxing me to apply. Sophie Baverstock, who won season three, has autism – and Scott says, if Sophie can do it, why can’t you? They haven’t yet had physical disability represented on there – certainly no one in a wheelchair.

Please do apply for Glow Up – a wildly popular TV show that crowns ‘Britain’s next makeup star’, for readers who aren’t familiar. You say you’re not a professional makeup artist and yet you’ve already nabbed gigs in the industry. What does this look like?

I work with small brands and help promote them – and now I’m working with About-Face beauty by [American singer-songwriter] Halsey. That was the major win for me, not only because it’s a huge brand in the industry, but also because Halsey has MCAS and Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, which I have as well. Her products don’t react with me because she formulates them without nasties.

A lot of makeup does cause allergic reactions for me, but I keep working with my EpiPen beside me. I know people must think, why the hell are you doing that to yourself? But I’d rather be doing my makeup, having a reaction, taking my emergency meds, cracking on and just having that positive thing in my life. I’ll regret it a couple of hours later, but in the moment, it’s all I want to do. I’m holding on to it, no matter what my body is trying to tell me.

It’s worth it – and it’s what works for you. What advice do you have for people who are new to tube-feeding?

Just stay open. Talk to everyone in the community. Don’t shut yourself off because once you shut yourself off – and I’ve done it myself – your mental health crumbles. And no matter how many medical professionals say you won’t be able to do this and you won’t be able to do that, find a way. Your limitations are not limitations – they are giving you life and a purpose. Don’t give up, just keep going.