Feeling Free to Say “I Am Less Than Able Today”

Why do I still feel embarrassed to express to my “well-bodied” friends that I am less-than-able on many days? Partly, I struggle to find the right words; the delicate balance between clear explanation and what I fear may sound like whiney complaining.

And then there is the bigger problem: the fact that I look so well. Especially on the days that my friends do see me. Because it is the days that I feel well enough to wash my hair (perhaps!), put on some makeup, get out of my lounge clothes, smile, and be present, that I also am able to keep my plans with them. They’re not seeing me on the days when my arms feel like 20lb. weights, too heavy to lift and brush the bed-tangles out of my hair. Or when I am still wearing what I woke up in, which many times even means what I went to bed in, because I was too exhausted to do anything but take off my bra the night before!

And truth be told, the sound and timber and strength of my voice doesn’t often change that much when my physical body is feeling poorly. And for me, my larynx can be in spasm causing hoarseness when I do feel well. So since that’s such a poor barometer for “feeling well vs. feeling poorly,” why is it then that people seem to think that what they hear over the phone lines is some sort of truth serum?

How many of you have heard those dreaded words, “Oh, but, you sound so good today! I’m glad!”

Unfortunately, they are often spoken before I’ve even had a chance to say how I am truly doing. So, I hesitate. Because it gets tiring saying, “um, thanks. But, actually, I’m not doing so hot today.” And even with my most well-intentioned friends and loved ones, I sometimes hear skepticism creep into their response. Because it just doesn’t make sense: but they sound so good…?

I share this all because I think it is a helpful reminder for anyone: both those of us struggling with day-to-day- fluctuations in our physical (or mental) capabilities and for those who are friends to, family members of, or caregivers for (including professionals) those with these “Invisible Illnesses.”

A quick reminder: Invisible Illnesses encompass a wide range of conditions and diseases. Take the common condition of arthritis, even. Yes, a joint could be swollen or red, but many times it can ache with no outward physical manifestation. So now think of all the conditions that effect our “internal systems,” from brain chemistry, to GI disorders, blood, vein and heart conditions, nervous system pain and disruption, connective tissue deterioration… the list goes on and on. These are the “Invisible Illnesses” that hide behind an external mirage of wellness. Wouldn’t it be handy if when something was ailing or failing on the inside, a bright red “warning spot” would emerge on an external location?! I sure would find this handy! Not only for letting others visibly know something painful is going on, but also to help pin-point for both myself and my doctors, what system is causing the pain.

Since this warning system technology is yet to be invented, we have to trust what people say. To take them at their word. You don’t have to completely understand what someone is describing to give them love, support and empathy. And unconditional trust in their word.

Sometimes I worry (too much so) that the person I am sharing my ills of the day with will think I am only saying it to get out of seeing them. At least for me, this is never the case! In fact, I am one to mask my true feelings of pain and discomfort just to avoid hurting or disappointing another. I know I am not alone in this.

So what can we all do as a collective group who cares for one another, to combat this?

For the “well-bodied” loved one:

1. Don’t Assume: Don’t assume just because we sound okay, or even because we look okay, that we feel okay. Don’t assume that because we were able to yesterday, we will be able to today. Or even, if we were able 15 minutes ago, that our bodies’ are still feeling as abled in This minute.
2. Listen: Please ask us how we are really doing. And then give us the space to truthfully answer. Take our answers at face value; please don’t judge or question (or fill in the blank!).
3. Don’t feel like you need to fix the situation. All we really need is acceptance and acknowledgement: “Wow that sounds hard/painful/frustrating. I am sorry you are feeling so lousy/cruddy/down today.”
4. It’s okay to ask “Is there any way I can be of support to you/help you right now?” But also know that we may not have an answer for that. It’s not that we don’t want your help (and I always like hearing a sincere offer from a friend), it’s just that: 1. We may not truly know of any way that you can help right now and 2. Many times all we need is space and time to heal. Which leads me to…
5. Give us space without expectations. We know (believe me!) how hard it is to accept that there is no clear pattern to our symptoms. We may feel better in 1 day, 3 days, maybe even 30 minutes and that can be frustrating. So we just ask for your patience as we navigate the unknown.
6. Don’t stop asking. This is a big one! And I don’t mean “don’t stop asking how we are doing” (although that’s a good thing, too); I mean don’t stop asking us to do things. Because there still are many days when we are able. And spending time with you, helping you out and supporting you, still means a lot to us. This is what feeds our soul and keeps us striving to be and get well.

Now, onto the “Invisible Illness” group:

1. It’s Okay. You’re okay. You are whole and complete exactly as you are. That was hard for me to write, because I am not just saying it to you, I am saying it to myself. “I am whole exactly as I am.” You/I/WE do not have to be anything other than what we are capable of being. We did not create these illnesses nor are we using them as a crutch to “get out of things.” They inhibit what we can do on a daily business, but they are not the all of us.
2. We are not defined by our illness. Our friends like and love us for who we are: the pure essence of us, our true spirit. Not for our physical abilities or dis-abilities. And if that is how someone defines “compatibility” in a relationship, they are not the kind of supportive friend you need, or deserve.
3. Speak your truth. Don’t sugar-coat the situation. You don’t need to go into great length or detail (unless you need/want to). Just be clear and concise. Remember we are speaking a language only other people with chronic illnesses can understand. A friend of mine with varying daily abilities can say just one word to me, or give me that look, and I get it. It’s not going to be that way with all of our friends and caregivers, so…
4. Be patient. You may need to explain your daily needs and limitations over and over again. This can feel frustrating or maybe even like the other person is questioning your authenticity. In most cases, this isn’t true. Remember: it’s a foreign language, and people don’t learn to comprehend a foreign tongue overnight! Most times, our loved ones keep asking questions, only because they want to understand.
5. If someone asks how they can help, and you can think of a way, ASK IT. Don’t be stoic. Don’t hope that they’ll just guess at what you need. (How could they?!). And don’t ever feel embarrassed. This last one happens to me. Because I start to think “But, I should be able to do this.” Trust that if someone offers to help, their offer is sincere and that if what you ask for is too much for them, they will let you know. Think how helpful it would be to have someone cook you a meal, or run an errand/do a household chore, or even help you to color your hair.
6. Remember that friendship is based on unconditional love. Our friends and lovers chose us for the person we bring out in them, just as we love them for the person they bring out in ourselves. We are all here to be our best selves, but that does not mean trying to be something other than you are. Or can be, physically. There is more to you, there is more to me, than our physicality.

It is up to all of us to spread the word on Invisible Illnesses. To take the stigma and mis-understanding out of them. Because millions and millions of us walk around looking “just like everyone else,” while on the inside of bodies are crumbling.

The first step to undoing all the misconceptions around these illnesses, is to start with a deeper understanding of each other, on a one to one basis. Which includes a deeper understanding of our own needs and abilities, followed by acceptance of same. It’s time to embrace all that we do bring to the world rather than all that we do not!

Chasing The Elusive “WHY ME?”

Inevitably, at some point in time, after receiving the news that one is facing a long-term or chronic illness/disease, comes the elusive question of ,”WHY?!” For some, this may be a fleeting call to arms, for others, it becomes a constant refrain of, “Why?” or “Why me?” or even “Why, God, why?”

During my last hospital stay, the progressive pastor of my family’s church came to visit me. After the necessary check-ins were taken care of, he turned toward me, and simply asked, “Do you ever find yourself questioning ‘why?’.” I have wondered since what direction he was taking the conversation in, if he had any expectation of what my answer would be. But this has been fleeting, because in all truth, I think he was just curious.

In that instant, though, there was no hesitation; I didn’t even pause before responding: “Yes. I am sure I have asked, ‘why?’ at some point in this long journey. But I have quickly discovered that this is a fruitless pursuit; a question without an answer; a path that only leads me to remaining stuck in the miserable moment.”

But that conversation has left me with equal curiosity. What is the point in asking, “Why me?” in the face of any number of events (I’ve heard this turn of phrase applied to everything from an unexpected car repair bill to a diagnosis of cancer), when one could just as equally be asking, “Why not me?”

The relentless lamenting over the “why” produces an on-going cycle of strife and depression. How could it not? There are no (satisfactory) answers to this perennial question. But there are concrete, solution-oriented, answers to the question of “What next?” We don’t know the why, yet we do know the how. It’s what we do with the how in the now that defines us.

I know I am sick. I know that there is currently no cure for my autoimmune condition(s). I know that my disease will continue to progress, causing a ripple effect that may require future surgeries and invasive procedures. I know that the mountain of daily meds I take to treat my diseases and conditions also create an equal amount of unpleasant side-effects; and that it is difficult to separate the two apart.

But I also know that I am a fighter. I am creative in the face of challenges. I discover new pathways when faced with a seemingly impassable road block. I am a giver of light, love and energy. My mantra is “Hope.” I know that I do not have to face this life alone, unless I choose to isolate. Which I do not.

This is where I can put in action the “What next?!”

Each surgery may chip away at the person I used to be. But that’s the key, used to be. Not the person I am now. Life is not stagnant and neither am I. In the course of my conversation with the pastor, I shared my views on the River of Grace that flows through me, receiving energy from beyond, recharging my own Soul Beacon, before continuing to flow out into other souls around me.

He smiled and said, that sounds like what Jesus speaks of in the bible, “Our Well-Spring,” that source of God that flows through each and every one of us, just waiting to be tapped into.

I have heard many people refer to this well-spring in their own words. I have heard it be called: Universal Energy, Chi (Qi), Kundalini, Indomitable Spirit, God’s Grace, Life Force, Eternal Flame, and many other monikers.

For me, it is my River of Grace. Because a river is an ever-flowing body of water, that both draws from many sources (is not a singular entity) and pours itself into (nourishing) many other bodies of water. Rivers are not stagnant, they are an ever-changing and evolving path through life. And water is our life’s breath; we cannot survive without it and 2/3rds of our bodies are made of it.

My River is a well that never runs dry. Yet, it is my responsibility to drink from it, to pull from it to renew my spirit when it is lagging.

Which brings me to the Grace part. I think of grace as a gift. As the ability to look for the light in a sea of darkness. To see beauty and gratitude, no matter what the situation. To ask “what’s my next step” instead of getting stuck on the repetitive refrain of “why?!?”

And then I decide to look up the official definition: Grace: “unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration” (Meriam-Webster). To merit something, is to earn it. You don’t need to do anything to earn, or to deserve, grace. It’s there for all of us. A gift from beyond ourselves, to regenerate the mind, body and spirit.

We have all experienced unexplained loss, devastating, mind-numbing losses. We have all had to endure unnecessary pain, physical, emotional and/or metal. Or had to witness, powerless, as a loved one is faced these. We have all encountered enumerable challenges, obstacles and sudden change.

These experiences are what define us. It is what has defined me.

But I have also chosen not to have them be the all of me. They are one part of my story. They are U-turns on the path of my life. And instead of sitting down in the middle of the road and stopping, staring befuddled behind, below, and around me. I’ve decided to look straight ahead. To tap into my River of Grace and chart a new course.

This attitude has carried me and allowed me to see my life as full of opportunities. To say, “What next.” Instead allowing myself to feel victimized, always the punchline, left lamenting the “why?”

Think of one area in your life where you can flip your knee-jerk response of “why?” on its head. Start small. See how this one shift in attitude affects your whole day. Your whole week. Your attitude and out-look on the things that come next.

And if you already embrace an attitude of “what next,” please share your experiences so that they may inspire and encourage others!

Calling All Angels

Just over three weeks ago, I had emergency surgery to remove a non-functioning gallbladder (another “perk” of Polychondritis, my main autoimmune disease. Yea!). My husband couldn’t help but announce repeatedly that this was now my 15th surgery in 7 years’ time(!).

The surgery went fairly well as did my initial recovery. After re-learning to walk post a 5 day epidural (I swear, I now know what Bambi feels like on those wobbly legs!), I was happily released.

After my 10 day hospital stay, I was only home for 3 days, when I suddenly developed a hot, sharp and stabbing pain in my abdomen. A same-day CT scan showed a very large small bowel obstruction and I was promptly sent to the ED, to await transfer to the inpatient unit.

This time, my stay was Hell.

It began with the placement of a nasal-gastric (NG) tube. I have always said this is the worst procedure I’ve ever undergone (and that’s saying a lot, considering all I’ve been through!). But this time was even worse. The main disease process of Polychondritis is the destruction of cartilage in my body, most prominently in my chest, ears, and nose. I already knew that the cartilage damage in my right nostril was so pronounced, it was effectively “closed for business.” And I clearly stated to the attending surgeon that only a pediatric sized tube would fit in my left nostril. Yet, she insisted in trying larger sizes first.

The doctor quickly learned that I knew my nose better than her, and had to use the smallest tube possible. Now, I don’t know a single person that feels “okay” about having an NG tube placed, so surgeons are used to complaints regarding this procedure. What they didn’t take into account was my personal history. The pain was beyond excruciating. The only way I can think of describing it is; it felt like someone had first taken a hammer to my nose, shattering the bones, and then commenced to insert (shove) a tube up my nostril, while asking me to drink water through a straw, drawing the tube down my throat and into my stomach.

This was the first time I felt “my light” go out. I felt like my Soul Beacon had been snuffed. I was drowning in pain and couldn’t tell the surface from the bottom.

My husband bore witness to this, and stated later that he saw the moment I let go. The moment my eyes went dull and blank. I would have done anything to make the pain stop. I was ready to trade my life for this relief.

Having these very deep visceral feelings scared the heck out of me. I started to question whether I had the strength to continue this battle being waged inside my body, with no foreseeable end. Slowly I began to fight again, to refuel my Soul Beacon from the exchange of light, love and energy with others. But I still felt dim; like my light could once again blow out with the slightest of breezes.

That breeze came a few days later when my body started to shut down. I had uncontrollable shakes, deep abdominal pain, unrelenting migraines, and spasms traveling from head to foot. I couldn’t focus on anything. There were none of my normal reprieves of drawing or writing, or reading, or even watching T.V. All I could do was lie there, writhing in agony.

I felt myself slipping away. It felt like I had one foot in this world and one in the realm beyond. One breathe from the universe, and I would blow away. Forever.

Without words, my family could tell. My husband and mother put up a barricade around me, keeping visitors away, while silently standing guard. They didn’t complain of hours spent entertaining themselves while I slipped in and out of consciousness.

And then one day, a dear friend of mine showed up unexpectedly for a visit. I whispered a request for Reiki. And while sending me healing energy, she also received messages in return:

She leaned close to me and told me that everything was going to turn out the way it was supposed to; that I could let go (and let God, so to speak). Then she passed on the most remarkable message: “As I have told you before, you are surrounded by angels, spirit guides and light beings that love and protect you. But this time, I felt something even deeper. There is one angel that has wrapped themselves around your entire body. They are protecting you and encasing you in love. They are only waiting for you to call on them for help and support. Use this angel. Ask for their guidance and protection.”

And with that, she left.

I was overwhelmed. If I let go, would that be letting go of this body, of this lifetime? Or would the act of letting go release the tension and stress I felt over having to “keep up the fight?” Could I truly trust in my angels and guides to take care of me, to lead me in whatever direction the Universe had planned for me?

I chose the latter, to trust in this intuitive message my friend passed on. It took me a bit to even find the strength to ask for help. But eventually I did. And that’s when the miracles started to happen.

The nurses discovered that my sugars had dropped so low, I was partially going into diabetic shock. And after several bags of sugar water being pumped into me, I started to recover. Another nurse ordered me an air bed that softy pillowed my inflamed joints. And the doctors finally reinstated my medication regimen that treats my autoimmune conditions (stopped out of fear of effecting the recovery rate post-surgery), most significantly providing infusions of steroids. My body started responding in kind.

But, even more remarkably: I embraced my angel back. I called on the energies that swirled around me for support and protection. And I began to feel like I was wrapped in a quilt of love. A quilt that hugs my body, wherever I go.

I don’t think it matters what your particular religious or non-religious beliefs are. Words like “angels,” “spirit guides,” and even “God,” don’t need to be defined. They can mean something entirely different for each person. For me, they all come down to energy. I don’t believe that when we die, all of ourselves just disappear. We are made up of many charged particles. So our physical bodies may fail us and be sent back to the Earth (to be recycled and revived), but our energy, or our “soul,” stays active. For some, they may find comfort in the idea of Heaven. For me, I truly don’t know. But I do know that I have felt the energy of loved ones passed surround me at many moments in my life. They have sustained me, they have pushed me, and they have caught me when I’ve stumbled. But, most of all, they have saved me. They brought me back from the brink of death 7 years ago, when my colon first ruptured. And they brought me back this time, when my mind and body was too fatigued to continue the fight on its own.

And that’s the key: even when we feel alone, we are not. We don’t have to face life’s challenges all by ourselves. Each one of us has an army of angels, light beings, and spirit guides just waiting to be called upon.

All it takes is a little prayer or meditation. Picture yourself surrounded with light and love. Feel the energy of the universe travel from without to within and out again. We are not stagnant beings, each one of us has a River of Grace flowing with our life force within us. Some believe this river is fed by God, others Buddha or Allah, or a Higher Power. For me, it is not an entity I can name. I choose to call my source God. But my God is not an omnipotent being, it is a mass of swirling light and energy that flows around all of us. Most often, my God wears skin, as a messenger of hope.

Each day I pray to have my eyes, ears, heart and soul open to receiving the gifts and messages from God and the Universe. This way I don’t miss the miracles when they come my way.

Because of this practice, I was able to see God in the form of my friend’s words as she asked me to trust in and use my Guardian Angel.

And even a skeptic cannot argue with the outcome. Because here I am just one week later, at home and recovering, with the energy to share my story with you.

Will I be able to weather another wave of physical assault on my already ailing body? I don’t know. But, that’s the key; I don’t have to know. All I have to do is trust in the universe to provide for me, whatever comes my way. My goal is to spread this message of hope and faith to others, so that collectively, we have the energy to face life’s challenges.

What challenges are you facing today that you could call on your angels or guides to help you navigate? All it takes is closing your eyes, taking a couple of deep cleansing breaths, and then, just… asking.
What have you got to lose by trying?!

“What Goes Up Must Come Down”

“What goes up, must come down.” These lyrics keep dancing around (banging around?) in my head.  They seem to be the only thing that accurately describes my current state of being. And let’s face it, my life in general.

Once again, the rug has been pulled out from under me. I felt like my life was traveling in an upward momentum. With starts and stops along the way, of course. But, truly could I expect anything less? Still, generally moving in a positive direction.

After such a struggle throughout the fall, with a constantly flaring body unresponsive to current courses of treatment, unrelenting fatigue, and an onslaught of back and forth calls to insurance pleading my case, there was finally some light at the end of the tunnel: infusion treatments were finally approved, literally in the 11^th hour.

I began my Simponi Aria infusions around Christmas and experienced immediate improvement in my symptoms. My morning stiffness went from 3 hours to 2 and even onto a mere 1 many days!! My fatigue was abating and I was able to participate in multiple family gatherings without weeks of post-event “crash and burn.” It was a gift. It was a miracle!

I anxiously awaited my second infusion and experienced similar success, even a tad better this time!  “We may have finally found something that treats my autoimmune illness,” my heat sang with glee!

Visions of days without pain coupled with participating in, instead of just sideline observing my life danced in my head! I even allowed myself to daydream about a future of renewed productivity and purposefulness.

In the last couple of weeks, my body started to crash again (hence the lack of blog posts); locking, swollen joints, pain and fatigue. But this time, I was happy for the symptoms. Strange, I know. But they were clear indicators that the infusion indeed was working because I was on a downward trend heading right into my next scheduled infusion…

This Monday! Hooray!! I can’t wait! Bring on the relief!

But, then, remember the second half of my opening refrain? …

“…Must come down…”

And, come down it has. Crashing down.

Today, was my first follow-up with my rheumatologist since the start of the new infusion treatments.  I gave him the same low-down I just gave you. And he looked sad. Defeated.

“Has the billing office contacted you?” he tentatively begins.

“Guess they’re leaving it up to me to be the Bad Guy.”

What? What is he trying to say?! My heart begins to sink. Am I hearing this right?

Both Medicare and my (supposedly “super-duper”) private secondary insurance suddenly decided to retroactively decline my treatment.

“Its off-label,” they tsk. Tsk.

Well guess what numnuts?! EVERY medication I take is off-label.   I have a RARE disease that does not get studied because it is not profitable for the drug companies whom sponsor said studies. Never mind, that my disease, Relapsing Polychondritis, has an extremely high mortality rate in untreated cases (before discovery, most people were diagnosed post-mortem). Guess they don’t care when it’s only a 1000 people in the U.S. population.

So, now, not only have they denied any future treatments, they have also reneged on payments due for treatments already administered! That’s 2 infusions at the “cut-rate” price of $10,000!!! How can that even be ethical?

Doctor: “Legally, you could be held financially responsible for this amount. Ethically, I could never allow that to happen. And, we could continue treatments if you have a bunch of cash lying around to pay out of pocket.” Wry smile.

Full disclosure here: I just did our taxes and guess what? My husband and I currently bring in a combined annual income of a whopping $33,000! So, yeah, I don’t think so.

So, bottom line… it appears that insurance (or let’s face it, in this case, the government), feels it is more cost effective to keep me chronically ill (meaning more urgent care costs, hospitalizations and the such, in the future) and unable to have gainful employment (requiring on-going SSD payments), then to pay for a medications that will treat my disease (now) and prevent the progression of it.

What kind of upside-down world do we live in?

But, guess what? The ball has once again landed back in my court.  And what choice do I have but to evolve and adapt once again? To reassess life and the options it presents me, to pick up the pieces and try to build something worthwhile out of the rubble…

And I will.

But, for a short bit, I just want to have a pity-party.

To whine, “why can’t anything ever be easy, or at least simple, for me?!”

Because it just is NOT.

There must be some major life lessons I’m supposed to learn this lifetime around.

They say that when you pray for something, God doesn’t give it to you, he (she) gives you an opportunity to develop that skill. But did I really need another chance to practice Acceptance. Resilience. Inner Strength?

It feels like I have enough of that to fill 10 lifetimes.

Sigh.

Indecisiveness is the Killer of Inspiration

Indecisiveness is the killer of inspiration. At times, I can be so clear with my intent that I do not question the “why?”  And at others still, I will find myself waffling and waffling to the point where I am no longer clear about anything: what I like or want to do or how I am going to do it.  I have forgotten the skills I have nurtured.

When I am debating between two paths in front of me, I concentrate on my center and listen to the intuitive voice within. Some call this the “voice of God” while others feel more comfortable defining it as the “voice of their soul.”  Either way, it does not steer me wrong.  I have consciously practiced decisiveness over the last couple years and have found great success and satisfaction in this approach.

What does “this voice” sound like, you may be wondering?  For me, and many others I have contemplated this topic with, it is always the first answer I hear.  My soul, through the grace of God and the Universe, knows the right step to take.  It’s my over rationalizing, over-thinking, fearful mind that muddles the thought.  Upon practice, you will discover that there is always a clear voice that speaks from within.  But you have to be open to hearing it, and then, even more importantly, open to receiving it.

Fast forward to today, and I find myself falling back on old, unproductive habits.  I hear that voice and quickly think right over it… to the point where the original intention is lost and I am left a confused mess.  For example, I am contemplating taking another art course.  I just completed my first “formal” art course since freshman year in college (!) and want to capitalize on the confidence and skills it gave me, by continuing to move forward.  I was strongly encouraged to continue my pursuit and that I could take a number of intermediate/advanced classes that would provide me with the tools to refine my style.

Not knowing what the best next class would be, I brought in a sample portfolio of my works to get the advice of the instructor. But if I want to be completely honest with myself, I did not want the “responsibility” of choosing the next class; for fear that it would not be an accurate fit.  Where does this fear come from? A lot of it is financial.  These classes cost upwards of $265! I would be eligible for a scholarship; but only my first class would be a fully covered, after that, it would be partial scholarships.  And, as us chronically ill know all too well, time and energy are precious commodities! I don’t want to “waste” them on the wrong course.  Argh! The pressure!!

There are many typical fear based reactions that can keep us from trusting our one, true intuitive voice.  I think we can all identify with financial insecurity throwing a monkey wrench into our confident, decisive selves.  We can fear making the “wrong” choice and either not enjoying what we chose, or, even worse, “missing out” on the other, better option.  We can be stifled by fear of failure or of trying something new and outside of our comfort zones.  Often, we are afraid of change; even if the present situation is not ideal (and even harmful to our mind, bodies or spirit), it is the comfortable.  And we like comfortable, the known.  We can be paralyzed by thoughts of what others will think of our choice, or by comparing ourselves.   We can be afraid of failure.  We can be afraid of wasting time, money, energy. . .

And then I hear my friend’s voice saying… “YOU MUST FEEL THE FEAR AND DO IT ANYWAY.”

Many of us have “trust issues,” and asking ourselves to trust our inner voice can feel like a huge gamble.  I know from experience that it does feel uncomfortable at first; because it is not the way we have typically done things in the past.  But whenever a decision is made based on faith rather than fear, you are always going in the direction intended. 

It does not mean that every choice you make from a place of faith and trust turns out like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!  There are times where I have listened to my intuitive voice and have faced challenges, pain, loss, and hurt because of the choice I made. But, in the end, I have always discovered there was a greater reason why I had to go through that experience.

So, I need to get quiet; because right now I am so twisted into knots over the simple choice of what class to take, that I have lost my intuitive, creative self.  And this waffling has poured over into all areas of my life, to the point where I feel stuck in a mire of indecisiveness… constantly questioning myself about what choice is the right one and then feeling fearful afterwards that I made the wrong choice.  I am in over-thinking mode.  I am a computer about to overheat and shut down.

So these are the steps I am going to take right now…

1. Turn off all external stimuli
2. Quiet my mind and my body through some deep, cleansing breaths
3. Say a prayer of intention:  “Please let my mind, heart and soul be open to receiving the messages you have to give.  May I not question my one, true intent.  May I trust in the messages I receive and may I have the faith to face my fears and insecurities.  May I embrace all the opportunities that come my way.”
4. Then I will repeat a series of cleansing breaths and clear my mind.
5. I will pose the question to the answer I currently seek.
6. And then I will just listen.
7. I will let the first thought that enters my mind grow in shape and size.
8. If other thoughts start to intrude, I will observe, describe and let them go (for example; “I am feeling fear about making the wrong choice and wasting my scholarship money.”)
9. I will put my hand over my heart and remind myself that I am loved and cared for.

Don’t Give Up 5 Minutes Before the Miracle Happens

There is a catchy little saying, “Don’t give up 5 minutes before the miracle happens.”  There are times when this concept seems plausible. And yet others, when those five minutes feel like they won’t come for five years, if at all.  Last week was one of those “other times!”  But, I forgot while in the throes of anxiety, stress, worry, fear, and pain that miracles come in all shapes in sizes; that their messengers come wearing a variety of colors and cloaks.

Since August, life has been lobbing one curve ball after another our way.  Starting two and a half weeks ago, it was like the pitching machine got stuck; the balls were coming at such a high speed pace, from all different directions, there was no chance of catching one before the next one flew at my face.  And when all your time is spent juggling the balls of life, the mind is too exhausted to even comprehend the possibility of a miracle.

I knew this would make me blind to any miracle that happened, and I didn’t want to miss a one.  So I started my daily gratitude list, marking ways that “grace” had shown itself in my life.  Many days it was like pulling teeth trying to write down just three things I was grateful for that day!  This started to depress me even more.  I’m not saying the exercise didn’t help to “right size” me on many days; that is, put things into perspective.   But it’s also been awhile since I’ve struggled for so long, each and every day.

I really felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel.  My weeks were filled with a constant onslaught of medical stressors: five days(!!) of bowel prep for a virtual colonoscopy that discovered a suspicious polyp; a fitting for “absolutely necessary” orthotics that were costing me a mere $500 (no insurance coverage); my autoimmune disease (Polychondritis) that flared in every joint, tendon, and muscle in my body; asthma attacks for the first time in a long time, waking me at night “suffocating”; a subsequent visit to my rheumatologist where he was so concerned he almost increased my Prednisone (IE: steroids- oh, no!) but instead decided to put me on Remicade infusions (half day long treatments that are the strongest this class of medicines gets); the start-up of another “hemicrania continuum” (IE: daily, mind-splitting migraines, unresponsive to treatment); 20+ Botox injections in my head and neck for same (that felt like a barrage of wasp stings and triggered an increase in pain – ouch); a “suspicious” mole removal on my back after early years of over-sun exposure (and a subsequent wound that is not healing);  and lower back and hip steroid injections (never fun!)…

Phew! I am exhausted just writing that all down!

And, the stressors didn’t stop there.  Not only was my disease flared by the change in seasons, but so was my husband’s depression; resulting in daily anxiety attacks (many directed at me. Sigh.).  Several friends experienced emotional crisis during this period, and I was the friend they reached out to for support.  Our cat got sick and needed medical care.  Bills seemed to be landing in the mail daily at the rate of political flyers in November.  And the final straw? Our van, our only vehicle, died.  The frame rusted out and landed on the steering box, and, well… you can imagine the rest!

The fear started to set in.  What are we going to do?  How are we going to afford this?  What if we don’t qualify for a loan?

Then, I took a deep breathe, prayed to my higher power, and took the first step.  Information is power.  And, at that point, I had none.  All I had was mis-information that was swirling itself into a cyclone of worry and anxiety.  Not a good equation for an already over-stressed body and mind!

It got worse before it got better.  But, then, last Tuesday, the miracles began to happen.  And because I had “slogged” through those daily gratitude lists, I was able to see them, and appreciate them as they occurred.  After a few unsavory experiences with used car dealerships, we walked into a particular store and were warmly greeted.  For the first time, I felt like each person looked as us as just another human.  We were paired with a gentle soul from Nigeria whom had worked at this same location for 20 years and took deep pride in his work.  He was not paid on commission and spent hours working with us, never feeling harried or put-out.  He not only helped us find our dream vehicle, he figured out a way that we could afford it.  He gave us free credit-counseling advice, outlining a 3-5 year plan to establish credit (we are a one credit card family; a negative in today’s consumerism America!).   Then my mom stepped in to selflessly lend her name, backing our credit for the bank, so that we would get an interest rate under %5.

Friends graciously lent cars and emotional support.  We had some small gifts of “unexpected funds” come our way.  And yesterday I got news that my mole was benign. Thank, God!

And, I realized, after weeks of “getting by,” we were gifted a day of reprieve and then another.  And that this is the true miracle of life.  This new vehicle and all the angels who helped us to get here didn’t suddenly erase the physical and mental pain we are experiencing.  But it gave us Hope.  And hope is what gets us through the unbearable days. 

At some point, life lets up.  The miracle happens.  We just have to keep our minds, eyes, and hearts open to witnessing it.

Don’t give up.  You never know when your 5 minutes will arrive!

Shine On, Soul Beacon, Shine On!

I have mentioned in many of my posts the idea that each of us has our own Soul Beacon. This is a concept that came to me organically during a moment of extreme illness.  It was a vision and even more so, a “knowing,” that I felt soon after my first near death experience. I was in a “stripped down state,” mentally, physically and most certainly spiritually.  I felt raw and exposed.  But, in this vulnerable state of being, I opened myself up to being completely vulnerable.  I felt as connected and observant as a child when discovering something new in their environment.  I became aware of the flow of energy between people.

I started to notice that energy exchanges could be both positive and negative; they could either lift one up or drain them entirely.  This was not just a feeling; I actually visually experienced this phenomenon. That insight gave me an intuitive knowledge of human interactions that I hold to this day.  When people exchanged laughter or encouraging words, streams of soothing, white strands of light would connect the interacting parties.  I saw this as a “recharging of the soul.”  It was pure energy, being given and being received.

Conversely, when an exchange was less then pleasant or supportive, there wasn’t a free-flowing exchange of energy. The flow would become heavily one-sided, with one party literally “sucking the life” out of another. This would show itself in forms of jealousy, fear, anger, insecurity, and dominance.

I had a clear vision of a beacon of light.  I saw that each of us is born with a cache of energy.  But just like any form of energy, if it is not recharged (refueled), it will deplete.  And when our energy sources are low, we experience depression, illness, sadness, despair, fatigue, hopelessness, and diminishing spirituality.  Most people respond to this feeling by hoarding the small amount of energy they have left.   We don’t share this energy out of fear of running on empty.  But in that hospital room, I discovered the key to unlocking a never-ending supply of energy.  The key is…

You have to give your energy away in order to receive more for yourself.

Give it away?! Yep.   This is where the concept of a Soul Beacon comes in.  Imagine a lighthouse.  The night is foggy and therefore the beacon’s light source barely reaches beyond its own standing.   Now translate that to the situation I spoke of above.  You’re feeling “foggy” and out of sorts, so you only shine your light source on yourself.  You keep your depleting energy close at hand and do not include anyone else in your circle of light.  Eventually, that circle of light will get smaller and smaller until its hardly providing any energy source for you to face the world.  This is the moment when many want to curl up in a ball and tell the world to go away.

This is when you need to stretch your final energy source far and wide; to imagine that Soul Beacon, seated in the center of your body, stretching its fingers of light to illuminate others paths.  Because this is what happens when you do: that light shines on someone else in need; the receiver is then recharged from this positive exchange and shines their light back onto you.  You will feel your inner beacon growing in strength.  With each positive interaction, the foggy veil of sadness and fear will lift.  You will start to have energy to take that next step, and then another.  And the best part is, while you’re recharging your own energy source, you are also giving that gift to someone else!

Who are you going to illuminate today?

How can you reach out in order to replenish your own light source?

What choices can you make today from a place of compassion and faith whether than from fear and insecurity?

How can you shine your Soul Beacon from heart to heart?

Read the story I wrote of a young girl and an old sage in: It All Began With A Beacon of Hope (click link)

Please share your stories and experiences!

The Gift of Illness: A Re-Invention of Self

“See simplicity in the complicated
Achieve greatness in little things.”
{Lao-Tzu}

There are two ways I can look at my illness: 1. “It was the end of my world” or 2. “It was the start of a Brave New World.”  Today, I choose option #2.  The option of Hope, hope for a new world, a new beginning.  I am in no way trying to profess that this was an easy choice!  I lived with both perspectives and took time before making a final decision.  I don’t think I would be in the place of peace I am today if I hadn’t lived with both the Paths of Despair and of Hope.My hope lies in the recognition of an opportunity to reinvent my life. 

I can actually have gratitude for my chronic illness today (imagine that!).  Because when I look objectively at my life “in the now,” I have been afforded opportunities to discover and develop parts of myself I didn’t even know existed before.  In saying “before,” I mean the time before my autoimmune disease (Polychondritis, Fibromyalgia, Migraine, Chron’s) stopped me from working, and let’s be honest, engaging in most of my previous activities.  In this “T.B.,” I was a Type-A, “go, go, go girl!” I was (egotistically) proud of my ability to multitask and juggle all parts of my life, during all parts of my day.  No breaks! Believing all that “idle hands make idle minds” crap. I mean, really, what was I constantly rushing around for?  Sure I received accolades and “atta girls” from all facets of my life.  But, in the end they were just words; words with no real meaning because they didn’t originate from within me.

Lately I’ve begun to look at this change in my life differently…

I’ve started to celebrate the fact that I was given the gift of reinventing myself!  I look around and see most people on the same path for 40+ years of their adulthood.  And many are content with their journey. But few, too, are afforded the luxury of stepping off the established path and taking side-trails until they re-discover a new route that fits for the next phase of their life.  Luxury?  How can I call chronic-illness a luxury?!  Well, for as much as it has taken away from me (which is plenty!) it has returned, just in different forms than I was used to.  It would be (and has been) easy for me to overlook these new “gifts” ahead of me because I am spending my time looking back at all the things that have been stolen from my life, on a constant hunt to retrieve that which has been lost.  It’s not atypical to be stuck on what once was and is now gone; because trusting in an unknown future is a far scarier prospect.  But this approach only caused me constant emotional pain, regret, sadness, and emptiness.

Then, one day, I decided to look forward. I picked up one of these “new gifts” lying in my (new) path and opened it.  Inside I discovered an opportunity to awaken my inner artist.  It came in the form of a night nurse who suggested I begin beading to pass the time during my lengthy hospital stays.  I was quickly hooked, finding this quiet, meditative activity deeply soothing to my mind and pain fluctuations.  In a short time, I was selling my creations out of my “hospital room storefront” (no joke!) to all the staff.  This first step on this Road to Artist boosted my confidence and helped me to feel productive again.  The best gift was the positive energy I gained and shared with the influx of visitors coming in and out of my room, nurturing my own Soul Beacon of Hope.

After veering off what I thought was going to be “My Path for Life,” which I blamed my illness for taking from me, I realized the first step was the hardest.  I’ve taken many breaks along this new way, some chosen by me and some chosen for me by my ailing body.  But when I reflect on the anguish I first felt at “losing” all the things I thought made me “me” and then I fast forward 7 years to today, I discover that I am now an artist, a writer, a truly present friend and wife, a seeker of peace, a role-model of hope and acceptance, and a Survivor!  I started to look at all things I’ve gained.  No, none of those things would be placed on a resume.  But for me they are far greater accomplishments than all of my professional and schooling achievements.  They are my re-invention of self!

Just the other day, in the midst of painting, my husband commented, “You know, in a strange way, you getting sick was a blessing.  You would never have become the artist you are today if you had continued to be so consumed with work.”  And he’s right!  It used to be hard for me to recognize that a blessing of this magnitude could arise from such severe, sudden illness.  Oh, I’ve always had a hopeful heart and been able to recognize small, daily gifts of gratitude, from a helpful friend to a stunning sunset.  But, again, this was gratitude for all the things outside of me.  To have gratitude for what’s within me?. . . now that’s a truly miraculous discovery!

I was able to pursue a solid career in early childhood education for 15 years.  Now, I am on Re-Invention Phase Two: becoming both a Creative Person and a Beacon of Hope for others. Herein lays the miracle: I can reinvent myself again at any time! It may be self-directed or Universe-directed, but either way, I am staying open to the change. And am embracing the NOW… where I can truly find gratitude in being sick!

Whoa! I’m WAY Off “Schedule!”

I always underestimate the time it will take me to complete a task. I’ll use the tricky formula of “time it should take me to complete in current state” – “time it used to take me in healthy state” + “time it takes the average person” = Project Done!  Yeah, right!  I forget to take that total and then multiply it times 3, 4, even 5, depending on my physical state, the weather, distractions, you get the picture! 

Yet, no matter how many times I plop down on the couch frustrated after a day of concentrated effort that has produced minimal results, I still hope for something different the next time.  And, that’s the key really; it’s not that I am ignorant to the current state of my physical (un)well-being.  It’s that I am always hopeful for the day when my body surpasses past abilities and surprises me with its wellness!  That’s not such bad thing, to have perpetual hope.  But, sometimes this “Pollyanna approach” gets me into trouble, because I end up physically depleted after pushing myself too hard, going beyond the limits of my chronically ill body.

But, today I want to stay in celebration mode!  Because even though what would have taken an able-bodied person ½ a day to complete has taken me 3 ½ days (rest breaks included, of course), I am feeling enormously proud of myself for seeing this particular project to completion.  What “project,” you ask?  I have finally gotten some of my art pieces and jewelry creations up on Etsy!  This is huge for me!  I decided to showcase my recent beach glass and stone creations.  You know, the ones I found when I followed my intuition (read HERE) and Mother Nature blessed us on that beautiful beach day? Not only do I think they contain all the energy and warmth of summer; the lake stones are stunning reminders of the glaciers that carved out this landscape, called Home.  I’ve also posted some of my art (as you can tell, Nature is my muse!).

After spending significant time in the creation process (not included in the 3 ½ day declaration!), I am exhausted and typically peeter out at this stage.  I’ll hold on to my cache until I have another sale.  But there are always those people who ask about a website for browsing and purchasing.  I will puff out my chest and say, “Why, yes, I do have such a webstore, through Etsy!  Here let me give me you a card. Just give me a week or two post-sale before you check it, okay?”  And the customer leaves clutching their card, awaiting this marvelous store that I have so openly boasted about.

I’m sure those of you struggling with chronic pain, illness, or even just good ol’ procrastination can relate to what typically happens next… A sale will physically drain me for weeks (another one of those “underestimation situations”).  By the time I’ve recovered, I feel chagrined that my verbally promised timeline has come and long gone.  I may try to start the process.  But somewhere along the way I lose steam.  Always thinking, “I’ll have more energy tomorrow.”  Famous last words!

Well, this time I did it differently…

• I stopped myself before making any verbal promises.  Because once a promissory statement has left my lips, the pressure is on!  All that this (mostly internal) pressure creates is a crushing sense of shame; shame over my illness and inability to perform what are seemingly simple tasks.  I’m sure if my customers knew what a struggle this is for me physically they wouldn’t have any qualms about it.  But do I let them in? Nope.  Back to the “well, she looks okay on the outside.  So, she must be okay, right?”
• I gave myself plenty of breathing room and recovery time before even trying to attempt re-creating my Etsy site.  And I chose to tackle this project on week I did not have a lot of other obligations (I.E.: doctor’s appointments!).
• I was gentle with myself when it took longer than expected.  I took rest breaks in between each step and broke it up over days.  This was the luxury I gained by not putting myself under a deadline!

I was reminded how much goes into selling items online.  I am in awe of those who do it on a consistent basis, especially those I’ve come to meet through WordPress whom blog and create and sell. Miraculous!

The creation process alone is taxing, but it is also extremely rewarding.  It is meditative and takes my mind off the pain.  The rest of it is just a pain in the butt: taking several photos of each item (including setting up creative, attractive backdrops, lighting, etc.); editing each image; uploading them to the site and then making necessary adjustments (sometimes back to re-photo); completing an inventory form for each item separately; then it’s on to writing an appealing description; pricing; posting; oh, and, of course, advertising so that your customers know to go look!  There are parts of the process I enjoy but it all gets tedious after a while. And it’s crazy the ways my body will find to revolt against the project!  From a stiff sore back after a photo session to swollen, sausage fingers from typing too much, I make sure to have a constant rotation of ice packs in the freezer!

But the bottom line is…  I am excited and proud of my accomplishment!  My “stick-to-itness” even in the face of multiple physical hurdles! I am holding happiness in this moment.  Because my mind wants to go to all the items I have yet to post, and I keep bringing it back to the here and now.  In the here and now, I have a finished product to show and share.  And that’s something to smile about!

(NOTE: The above picture collages highlight some of the items for sale.  Interested in seeing more? Click HERE.)

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall…

…who’s the fairest of them all?

There are two people in the mirror looking back at me.  I see the me of years ago… before the surgeries, before the Predinose weight, before this illness ravaged my once beautiful body.  I see my once graceful curves, full breasts, sinewy muscles.  I see smooth, unblemished skin.   I see a face graced with high cheek bones, and my crowning glory, a mane of hair that honors my Leo birthright.

But then I glance away, only for a second.  But a second is all it takes. And the veil is lifted.  Now looking back at me is this Rubanesque form, filled with mars and scars. An abdomen curved gently into my once proud hip bones is now a patch work of put together pieces. My belly button is all but lost amongst the vertical scar that tracks its path from my sternum to my pubis. There are angry slash marks running across my belly, scars and “striations” chasing each other, competing to see who will get to the other side first.  My hip bones are now buried beneath a belly that no longer has any abdominal muscles (there are only so many times you can cut through connective tissue before it no longer knits together).  My face reflects the “moon-ism” of long term Predinose (*steroid) use; the oval shaped now rounded and puffed out, making my eyes and mouth appear small and timid.  And my once straight, full hair has agreed to join the revolt, each day becoming curlier and curlier.  Which would be a nice change, right? Except that it is only curly in the certain areas on my head!?!

So which woman is the “real” me?  I walk proudly like I am still the woman that was once told should be a model (and, of course, never believed at the time! Sigh.).   But then I see myself in pictures and I wonder in shock, “Who is that bloated version of me?  Must be the angle right? Or the lighting?  Something?!”  And all I want to do is cry.  Weep for the person I was and have lost.  For all the things illness has stolen from me: years lost; weight gained; my dignity, my self-esteem, my sexuality.  My identity.

But, wait.  That would be saying my entire identity was wrapped up in my external looks.  And it never was; that’s why I also didn’t see myself as “model material.”  I walk proudly because of my internal strength and light.  Which leaves me even more confused than before; I still don’t feel like my insides match my outsides.

It’s hard not to let invasive, ill-thought out comments from well-meaning friends become ear worms.  Wriggling themselves into my brain only to be repeated over and over again.  Statements such as: “Oh, wait until you see her when she’s all better, loses the weight and is back to her ‘old self.’”  And, “Gosh, you were so beautiful.”  Or, “You don’t ‘carry yourself’ like an overweight person.”  What the heck is that one supposed to mean?

And, perhaps I don’t carry myself like “an overweight person.”  And I’m glad.  Because my first instinct when I rapidly put on all this weight (*) was to bury it under loose fitting clothes.  But that approach only made me feel worse.  At least when I put on a flowy maxi skirt and colorful top, I feel more like my true self. I am no longer trying to hide myself anymore.  I try to counteract all the negative feelings.  I use positive self-talk. I remind myself that the same scars that have patched me into pieces saved my life!  I was once proud of that vertical mid-line scar, calling it my life line and the rest, a road map to Survival.  I’ve started using a body-image technique post shower that a friend shared with me.  First off, I stay naked as long as I can and then I apply lotion lovingly to each part of my body, thanking it while I do so (“Thank you, feet, for supporting me; I love your beautifully painted toes!,” etc.).  I put healthy food into my system and ride my stationary bike and/or walk everyday (unless bedridden).

All these approaches are positive and important.  But, while writing this painful post, I’ve realized that this is not the most important step in my self-image recovery:

I need to focus on my insides.  To recognize that I was out last night and was approached by half a dozen friends who interrupted my conversations, just because they didn’t want to leave without giving me a hug.  These women genuinely told me how beautiful I looked.  And all of that was not in response to weight, or smoothness of skin; it was in response to my inner light radiating my outer self.  The same light that always made me appear “beautiful.”  People respond to me not for what I look like, but for whom I am.  And if I let the negative thoughts override all of this, I will close myself off like a clam shell, turning inward in a protective pose.  When one is on the defensive, they are no longer approachable.  And that has always been one of my greatest gifts.  I refuse to let this illness take that away from me!  I will not give it that power. 

I am a beautiful woman. An Amazonian Goddess, whose perseverance and tenacity have given her the fortitude to win many a battle.  I radiate with the stunning light of my Soul Beacon that transmutes Hope and Positive Energy to others.  People are attracted to me for who I am. And, if I really want to think about it, illness has only strengthened these qualities in me, certainly not stealing any of them away!  It’s okay for me to mourn the pieces that have been stolen from me and my life.  But after mourning, comes a Celebration of Life… a celebration of the life I live today, of the woman I choose to be.

 

*MORE INFORMATION ON THE SIDE-EFFECTS OF LONG TERM PREDNISONE (STEROID) USE:

Outlines all the (ill) effects of long term or high dose usage (weight, hair, striations- the whole gamut!).  For me? Went right down the list. Check, check… and, check!

http://www.hopkinsvasculitis.org/vasculitis-treatments/prednisone/

Summary:

http://ibdcrohns.about.com/od/prednisone/f/predweight.htm

Discussion board with testimonials on individual’s experience with Prednisone induced weight gain:

http://arthritis.about.com/u/ua/prednisone/prednisone_and_weight_gain.htm