"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: determination (Page 1 of 2)

The Courage of Illness

Yesterday, my husband and I attended the Greater Boston SSF Support Group at Tufts. The February meeting is always unique every year because it is the one meeting a year in which we have round table discussions, instead of a guest speaker lecture. What happens is that different topics that people are interested in are submitted to the moderator. There are three separate sessions during the two hour meeting and in each session there is anywhere from six-nine different table topics. Each support group member goes to the table that has a topic they are interested in discussing with other members. It is a great way to learn and discuss topics that are of interest and are unique to each group member.

This year I facilitated two of the three sessions. One was on the topic on using low-dose naltrexone as a treatment for Sjögren’s and the other was on the use of alternative medicine in Sjögren’s. My husband and I also attended a session on complications from Sjögren’s and he attended a session on his own about being a caregiver of someone with Sjögren’s.

Both my husband and I recognized the many faces of those who have attended the group before, but it was very noticeable to both of us that there were a lot of new faces as well. As we spoke with people, we realized that that there were quite a few people who were newly diagnosed and I particularly noticed that there were more younger people than usual. Younger being defined as younger than being in their 30’s.

The ride to the support group takes at least an hour and a half on a good day and the day of this meeting, I was definitely not feeling my best. I was in more pain than usual, more tired than usual, and basically just sick of Sjögren’s; and the ridiculous winter weather we have been having as of late in Massachusetts. But I knew people were counting on me to facilitate these group discussions and I also had help getting there, so off we went.

As someone who has written a book on Sjögren’s, writes a blog, has had the illness for quite a few years now, and does a lot of research, I often get approached a lot during these support group meetings by people asking for advice or asking questions. I will be honest, I love this because for me, it makes all the hell I have been through have meaning because I can then use my experience to help others. It can be a little overwhelming though on days when I am not feeling well. Not because I don’t want to help or anything like that, but because it is harder for me to focus and pay attention. I’m sure many of you can relate to how that feels.

The low-dose naltrexone session I facilitated went well, but the alternative medicine session was incredible. I originally had estimated, according to the sign up sheet, that about six-seven people would be attending that session. The session ended up consisting of twenty-three people. After handing out information on a variety of alternative treatments, I had each group member talk briefly about their experiences, if any, with alternative medicine.. It actually surprised me how many people were using different alternative medicine treatments. Some of the most common treatments used were diet (specifically gluten-free and dairy-free), oil pulling (this surprised me, I thought I was the only one who did it), acupuncture, and turmeric. There was some really good discussion and sharing of ideas; an ideal outcome for a session like this.

Because I interacted with so many different people during this particular support group, I heard more personal experiences than I usually do during a meeting. As I have been thinking about the meeting since yesterday, there has been a common theme that keeps emerging in my mind. And that is how much we, as Sjögren’s patients, go through on a day to day basis. And the amount of courage it takes to live with this crap day after day, week in and week out. I’m not just talking about the path to diagnosis, which as we know, is usually a nightmare in itself. But rather, the amount of care we need to provide ourselves in order to manage our symptoms each and every day.

For me personally, a lot goes into existing in this illness stricken body day after day and I think that I often take that fact for granted, mostly because I feel like I cannot always dwell on how difficult it is or I will spiral into a massive depression. I also think that a lot of what I do to manage my illness becomes routine at times and I also take that for granted because well, its my life and its what I have to do. Just the steps that I have to take every day to prevent complications as a result of the dry eyes and dry mouth is time-consuming. Seriously, think about what the average non-Sjögren’s person does to care for their eyes and mouth every day. Most people I know brush their teeth twice a day and maybe floss once or twice a day. See a dentist every six-twelve months or so. Some non-Sjögren’s people have to put in and remove contact lenses every day or keep track of their eyeglasses.

For those of us with Sjögren’s, it is so much different: meticulous oral care such as frequent brushing, flossing, oil pulling, saliva substitutes as often as every hour, more frequent dental visits, special oral rinses, managing dry lips, dealing with swallowing issues from the lack of saliva, increased cavities, eye drops every thirsty minutes to an hour, warm eye compresses several times a day, waking up during the night from the discomfort of dry eyes and dry mouth, using and caring for a humidifier, trying to avoid dry environments, the list goes on and on.

And that is just our eyes and mouth. As we know, for most of us, that is just the tip of the iceberg. It doesn’t include the management of pain, fatigue, and other organ complications with our lungs, heart, nervous system, digestive system, kidneys, bladder, etc. etc.

When I did a rough estimate of the amount of time per day I spend on managing this illness (including but not limited to: medications, treatments, physical therapy, diet management, phone calls, medical appointments, etc.), I realized that the average amount of time I currently spend managing my Sjögren’s is three hours A DAY! And that is when things are relatively stable.

As I think about that and about all these patients yesterday, one word comes to my mind and that is:

COURAGE.

Guys, this illness business is not easy. One of the definitions of courage is: strength in the face of pain and grief. This courage we exhibit is something I needed to be reminded of recently, by people who understand what it takes to live with this illness. It takes an incredible amount of courage to wake up every single morning and know what we have to face…

The special care our bodies need.
The pain.
The stress of modifying our day to meet our physical, emotional, and spiritual needs.
The grief over what we have lost.
Finding treatments to manage an incurable illness.
Dealing with a medical system that at its best, is broken.
Facing the possibilities of long-term complications and even death.

People who don’t know better or don’t understand this invisible illness, they may say you are lazy, or weak, or making it all up. But friends, I know better. YOU know better. You are warriors. Each and every one of you. Despite the odds being stacked against you, you rally on. You go to work, or you educate others from the confines of your home. You tell your story. You care for your children and your parents. You volunteer to help those less fortunate. You rescue abandoned animals.

I have heard your stories.
You all exemplify courage.

Don’t let anyone ever convince you otherwise.
Own your strength.

Crossing the Finish Line

This past Saturday was an event I have been preparing for over the past five and a half months, since I started running last October: the Holyoke St. Patrick’s Road Race. 6.2 miles. 2 1/2 miles of it uphill. And, they are big hills!

This is a bit of a race report mixed with my observations on what it is like to do this type of event. I don’t know the specifics of how large other races are, but this particular race had a lot of people, reportedly over 7,000 runners. Somewhat intimidating to me. As I have mentioned in a previous blog entry, my husband was running the race by himself and my friend, Heather, and I were running together. It was such an incredible experience that it has taken me a few days to get my thoughts together before I write them down.

The City of Holyoke, Massachusetts takes St. Patrick’s Day seriously. The parade, which is the day after the road race, is one of the biggest in the country, maybe even the biggest. So of course, the road race is a big deal as well. People dress up in green clothes, costumes, and all kinds of other garb for the event. We were no exception. That is the reason I have pushed so hard, as a new runner, to try and get myself ready for this year’s race, rather than waiting a whole year to compete. The race is just fun. While I have been training consistently, I knew another year might have made a big difference in the difficulty of running this race for me. However being as inpatient as I can be, and honestly, none of us knows what can happen in another year, I knew I had to attempt the race this year.

We got to the race area pretty early because of the high volume of traffic and people who were expected to be in attendance. Because for as many runners as there were (there was also a walk), there was probably just as many spectators lining the streets. After about two plus hours of waiting, stretching, and waiting some more, my husband went to his starting line up position and Heather and I went to ours, in the very back. This year, the race was starting in waves and we were going to be the last group, besides the walkers, to depart from the starting line. There was definitely a feeling of excitement as we heard the gun go off, indicating that the first wave of runners was on the move.

Heather and I had a plan to start the race walking for a few minutes, mostly because at my last race, I panicked and started off much too fast, causing me to have a difficult time. The other part of our plan, since we are run/walkers, was to speed walk the hills and run as much of the rest as possible. As we started off across the start line, I was shocked by the amount of people lining the barricades, rows and rows deep. I started to get a little panicky having all these people watching me.

After a very brief walk, we did start running. I tried to not be too conscious about how far back we were. I just kept reminding myself that pacing myself was the key to us crossing the finish line. However, it was hard to ignore the ambulance that was very closely trailing behind us. Being someone who has so many medical struggles and has recently spent time in an ambulance, I found this a bit disconcerting. I just kept reminding myself, “pace yourself”, pace yourself.”

Since Heather and I have been training together for months, we have developed a good pattern of communication while running and I think that really paid off during the race. There were points where she was struggling more than me and other points, especially towards the end, where I was struggling more. But overall, we stuck with the plan and mile by mile, I realized that we were absolutely going to finish, and likely at a faster time than we thought. According to my running watch, we were averaging about a fifteen-seventeen minute/mile walk and about a twelve-fourteen minute/mile run. I had thought that if we finished the race in 1:40-1:45, I would be happy. Anything under that would be an even bigger accomplishment. By my calculations, we had a shot at finishing at about 1:30. We had discussed during one of our training runs that 1:30 would be the icing on the cake, so to speak.

The experience of this race is one that I will never forget. It definitely had its challenges: leg issues for Heather, a previous injury for me, nausea after my first water stop when I tried to drink water, and WAY too many hills! That all being said, overall, it wasn’t quite as difficult as my first race on New Year’s because I had more months of running behind me and the temperature was at least  thirty degrees warmer. My family turned out to cheer us on at two different spots along the race course and it is still amazing to me how many complete strangers cheered us on along the way. I’m not talking about cheering statements like “keep going”, but rather comments like: ” you can do this….you’re almost there…you SO got this…last hill.” Comments that actually spurred us on when things got tough. There were people on their front lawns playing bagpipes, Irish music being blasted from people’s homes, and LOTS of clapping and yelling. The kinds of things you need when doing your first 10K race.

The three of us did finish the race. My husband came in at just under an hour (59:57) which was fantastic for his first 10K. When Heather and I turned the last corner to head towards the finish line, it was all I could do to keep moving and not only was I moving, but I was running. I made a promise to myself when I started running, that I would NEVER walk across a finish line. No matter how difficult running is for me or how tough a race is, I would always run my last quarter mile. I would always be a strong finisher.

It felt quite surreal when Heather pointed out how close we were to the finish line. As we got closer, we heard the announcer say our names on the loudspeaker.That is the advantage to finishing towards the end of a race, we heard our names announced because we weren’t in a pack with a bunch of another people…it was just her and I. Usually the only time my name is ever announced, I am in a medical appointment waiting room. This was a nice change of pace!

Right before we crossed, I looked up at the time: 1:40. I was slightly disappointed, although I shouldn’t have been. But I did think we had done a little better than that. It didn’t matter though. We had finished. I, a person with a life-altering chronic illness, had accomplished something that I never before thought possible, even when I was healthier.

The three us spent some time in Holyoke rewarding ourselves with some hard-earned beers (not the gluten-free variety, either) and during that time, I got a text message. The company that monitored the race, Racewire, texts your time after the race. I never even knew that was going to happen. And then, a sudden realization hit when as I was reading the text. Our 1:40 time on the finish line screen did not account for the fact that we were in the last wave of runners to start, delaying us by about ten minutes. Our actual finish time was 1:30:56! We did achieve what I previously thought was unattainable. Was a 1:30 finish time a remarkable feat in the world of competitive racing? Not by any means and I know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that for us, it was truly a remarkable feat.

The aftermath of running the 10K has been difficult for me; a lot of it has been ignorance and neglect on my part in post-race recovery. More of it has been my usual daily physical struggles exacerbated by putting my body through an unusual physical challenge. And finally, part of it has been a nagging leg injury that is totally ticked off at me for running all those miles. But as uncomfortable as I am, it still doesn’t feel as bad as my worse day as a Sjögren’s patient because mentally, I am stronger and I feel like I have accomplished something that I was never supposed to do.

My only question now is: when is the next race?

The Power of Running

I just finished my last training run in preparation for a race that I am running (I do a run/walk combination) in four days. The race is a 10k event (6.2 miles) and is the second race I am going to be competing in since I started running five and a half months ago. The first one was a 5k (3.1 miles) on New Year’s and since then, I have been training for Saturday’s race with my friend, Heather. My husband is also going to be running that day, albeit at a much faster pace than Heather and I.

This race is a big deal for me. Two and a half miles of it is uphill and honestly, I have never even ran 6.2 miles in my whole entire life. I have done three miles…four miles….and a one-time five miler, but never more than that. But, I have been consistent with my runs and since I am still dealing with some type of upper leg injury that has yet to be resolved, that is a major accomplishment. Actually, it is a major accomplishment that I can even run at all considering the physical obstacles I have endured and worked through over the past several years. I cannot lie though, I am a little scared. Scared of how my body is going to react to pushing it further than it is probably ready for.

I have been wondering lately how the heck I got here; what fuels me to want to do this running thing week after week. I know a big part of it is the endorphins and how good they make me feel. When I started a new job recently, I took almost a week off from running to try and manage the overwhelming fatigue I was having from going back to work after five years at home and you know what? I missed it, a lot. Running has become my primary way to deal with stress. A much healthier way than eating my way through stress.

So many other aspects of my physical self have improved over the past few months. A few nights ago, I went to scratch an itch on the back of my leg and when I touched my leg, I felt what I thought was swelling. Because of the Sjögren’s, I get all types of weird things that pop up here and there and I am very in tune to any changes in my body. Well, apparently not that in tune because as I felt my leg more thoroughly, I realized what a fool I was. My leg was not swollen or messed up from autoimmune issues…. I had developed some serious MUSCLES in my legs. It still amazes me when I look at my legs. They don’t look like mine at all anymore.

My cardiovascular status has improved significantly. My knees no longer hurt at all when I run and when I first started running, my knees hurt so bad, I didn’t think I would be able to continue running. My asthma has remained stable and despite the fact that I am on the lowest dose of prednisone I have been on in six months, I can run/walk three miles in less than fifty minutes. Not a world record breaker by any means, but a success nonetheless.

I realized something this afternoon though. It was one of those breakthrough moments as I was driving home from our training run. I was crying in the car because of this realization. Aside from all the physical benefits that becoming a runner has given me, I have figured out the one major reason why I love running so much, despite all my constant complaints to my husband about how much I hurt sometimes:

Running makes me feel powerful.

RUNNING MAKES ME FEEL POWERFUL!

When I run, I am not a patient. I am not an illness.

When I run, it is me and my body battling itself, and I always win. Some days more so than others. But the fact that I get off the couch and go, that is me winning.

When I run, I do not feel like the fat girl who was teased in gym class for being so slow and awkward. I feel the strength in my legs and the air racing in and out of my lungs. I am not the awkward fat girl. I am a runner.

When I run, I hear the soothing rhythm of my feet striking the ground.
The sound of power.

Running makes me feel powerful because I am doing what I was told I would never do. It is me defying the odds and refusing to let my illness or my own mind beat me. It does not matter if I am running a twenty minute mile or a thirteen minute mile, me and my body are beating the odds. It may last another week. It may last the rest of my life. But regardless of the outcome of my running life, or even this race Saturday, I have conquered.

To Scoot Or Not To Scoot, That Is The Question

I have had a difficult decision to make ever since my husband and I booked our honeymoon to Disney; which is in less than three weeks. To the average person it may not seem like a big deal but to me, it has been this gut wrenching decision that has taken me months to make and come to terms with. The decision I was struggling over was whether or not to rent a scooter to use during the eight days we are down in Florida at Disneyworld.

Most people I have talked to regarding this decision do not understand why I would even consider NOT renting a scooter considering the physical issues I have with arthritis, fatigue, and the difficulty I have with extreme heat and sun. To them, it seems like a no-brainer. And in some aspects it is a no-brainer. If you Google “scooters” and “Disney”, you will see that the use of scooters in Disney is rampant. A whole other topic for another day. It’s not like I would be doing anything unusual. Rent the scooter and just use it. Disney is huge. Why stress out over it?

I have never used an assistive device during all these years that I have battled extreme pain and fatigue. Not once. I have been on vacations and day trips. I have struggled at times to even get through a short shopping list at Stop and Shop where by the way, they do have scooters. I am not against scooters, wheelchairs, canes, walkers, or any other assistive devices. I know people who need them and use them. But I do not use them.

It is not because I do not physically qualify to use something like this at times because anyone who knows me knows that I certainly have had periods of time over the past five plus years where an assistive device would have been most helpful; especially a scooter. At first I thought it was just a pride thing or that I was worried what people would think when they looked at me using a scooter. I have this invisible illness which means that I typically look well on the outside and feel horrible on the inside. But then I realized that it is so much more than that. My desire and determination to intermittently not use an assistive device is due to one emotion and one reason: fear. I am scared to death.

I am scared to death that this autoimmune illness I have will progress. That someday I will be dependent on an assistive device to be able to go out into the world or even to function in my own home. I am scared to death because I have had so many different body systems affected by this illness that someday, it will get the better of me. I fear that I will end up in kidney failure or with neurological impairment that will prevent me from walking. I fear that I will be one of the Sjogren’s patients who develops Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Or pulmonary hypertension. Or end-stage liver disease. These are not unrealistic fears. Although not as common as some of the other Sjogren’s symptoms, they do happen. People do die. So to me, needing to use a scooter at Disney feels like I am giving in to my illness.

To be honest, this position I have taken for myself about using assistive devices has served me well over the past several years. Has it caused me more pain? Sure. Has it sometimes limited what I can go out in the world and do? I don’t think so. But I do believe with my whole heart that pushing myself in terms of my mobility has made a positive impact on my lifestyle. I am a big believer in using what you have and also in the idea that you lose what you don’t use. I know there are people who have no choice in whether they use an assistive device or not. I have that choice. And I believe that if I had made a different choice, I wouldn’t be as active as I now am on some days.

This decision has been complicated by the fact that I got a sense from my husband that he was not on board with this whole scooter at Disney thing. And before anyone goes jumping down his throat about this, it has taken some heart to heart discussions between us to get to why I was getting weird vibes from him about it. (Disclaimer: I have his permission to publicly blog about this.) Of course I don’t need his permission in my decision about whether to use a scooter or not but I do value his opinion and it was important to me to hear his thoughts. I also felt like I needed his support on this. Come to find out, the weird vibes I was getting were accurate. My husband eventually told me that even though he wants me to do whatever I feel I need to do, that he felt like renting a scooter would be giving in to my illness. Same exact thoughts I was having.

But here’s the thing and this I know with absolute certainty: I’m a fighter. I have never given in to this illness. There are times where I have been accepting of the illness and the limitations it has imposed on me but I would not call that giving up or giving in. I also know that many, if not most people reading this, have no idea of what I go through on a daily basis just to function. Although my husband has a pretty good idea, he still cannot physically feel what I feel. He does not know every single instance I have pushed through when I should have been home in bed. Nobody does but me. And that is how I prefer it to be because I don’t want my life to be a series of verbal complaints coming out of my mouth about how lousy I feel.

I remembered a similar decision I was trying to make a few years ago regarding applying for a handicap parking placard. Similar thought process. A good friend told me that I should get the placard and if it made me feel better, only use it when I absolutely had to. She must have told me this on several occasions and finally I got one. And as I was making my scooter decision, I thought about all the times I got myself to the store, the doctor, or to a much needed social event just because I could use that handicap placard and park closer to my destination. I thought about how during those times, I had more energy to complete my errands or enjoy my time out with friends because of the placard.

Why would Disney be any different? Say for example it’s Day Two of our trip. It’s 5pm and we have spent a majority of the day at Animal Kingdom and we are now resting back at our hotel. And my husband and I want to go Downtown Disney to try one of the many restaurants there that we have been talking about for the past year and a half. But my joints hurt so bad and I am so exhausted that I cannot fathom getting out of the bed and leaving the hotel room. But wait, there’s my scooter. So my choices are, postpone Downtown Disney until a different day and hope that I am feeling better or not give in to my fears and take the scooter to dinner.

Have I mentioned that this is our HONEYMOON?!?

So I have rented a scooter for the week that we are at Disney. Why? Because I have decided that the possibility of enjoying our honeymoon more fully AND making the experience better not only for myself, but for my husband, is much more important than giving in. I’m not talking about the giving in to the illness, but rather the giving in to my fear. Because not renting/using a scooter and then not being able to do what I (we) want to do IS letting the illness win. It is taking a gamble on letting this thing called Sjögren’s dictate how we are going to enjoy this precious time together. That is not acceptable to me. Because like I said, I’m a fighter.

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If anyone out there has any experiences with using a scooter in Disney, please share your experiences in the comment section below. I am open to hearing about both good and bad experiences because your experiences could help me to have a better one. Thank you.

Keep Going

There are very few people who follow my blog or who are even in my life who know the extent of the disaster my life was from about 2001 through 2009. I was in a destructive marriage with a man who was abusive, an alcoholic, had PTSD, and was just a difficult person to live with. A man who decided about two years into our marriage that he did not want children. I had distanced myself from some of my family and many of my friends. I held a job that I loved but yet found very stressful. For some of those years I was seventy-seven pounds heavier than I am now. I had a food addiction and low self-esteem. There were many times when I considered suicide and the threat was real enough that I was hospitalized several times for depression. For a period of time, I was even considered to have bipolar disorder and I was trialed on every class of psychiatric medications that existed. The diagnosis was later retracted by the same psychiatrist who diagnosed me and my mood issues were thought to be the beginning of my autoimmune disorder, coupled with significant environmental stressors. Then the physical symptoms of my autoimmune illness began.

2008-2009 found me very sick with Sjogren’s syndrome. I eventually ran out of sick time and FMLA and lost my job. On the day that my ex-husband threatened me and I thought he was going to be physically violent because he was so drunk, I told him we were done. I got divorced and lost my home. I lost one of my beloved dogs. No job, no home, no kids, no health, no marriage…no nothing.

But wait, I did have something. I had God. I had my family. I had a few friends.

I had myself.

So why am I even bothering to tell you all this six days before I marry my second husband? Because I want people to know. I want to tell anyone reading this who thinks that the only way out is through suicide that there is always a better way out. There is help out there. You can change your situation. The feeling of hopelessness you have now does not mean that things can not get better.

My upcoming marriage has stirred up a lot of emotions recently. Obviously that is due in part to the fact that I am marrying this incredible man who is my best friend and whom I love with all my heart. But the emotions are also there because over the past few weeks, I have stopped to think about where I am and how far I have come. Because at some point I stopped letting myself be a victim. I dealt with my depression and anxiety. I saw a therapist. I developed a positive attitude. An attitude that got me through some pretty dark days. I worked on my relationship with God and with myself. Step by step I made changes in my life that enabled me to be a whole person rather than the empty shell of one that I was during those years.

I still struggle with health issues. I still struggle at times with my self esteem. But at the end of the day I like the face of the person looking back at me in the mirror. Sometimes it is hard for me to think back on the past and even believe that was me. However I have to look back from time to time because those experiences have helped make me the courageous and determined individual I am today.

I am at peace.
I am happy.

So please don’t give up. You are worth more than the sum of your bad experiences. God has put you in this world for a reason. The reason may not be apparent to you now. It may never be apparent to you but I promise you, your presence in this world will make a difference to somebody.

Be strong.
Keep going.

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