For Everything There is a Season

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

Category: invisible illness (Page 1 of 2)

Being Visible With An Invisible Illness

September 10, 2014 / / 2 Comments

This week is National Invisible Awareness Week and I figure it is as good a time as any to get back to writing since apparently, my last post was a month ago. I have no good excuses. Life has been busy, and I have been enjoying living it.

I won’t get into all the details about why I have been busy; some of it has been simply having fun and some of it has been being there for other people or personal obligations. Whatever the reason, the past week or two has been more of a struggle physically than I am comfortable with. That’s the thing about an invisible awareness: I struggle every single day, almost no exceptions. I have done a pretty good job at working those struggles into my life and accepting them, but the problem with that is, I appear completely fine most of the time on the outside. When in actuality, my body is falling apart bit by bit on the inside.

It’s a double-edged sword for most of living with an invisible illness. For example, I do not want to be known as or come across as a “sick person”. I try to take care not to complain too much on social media and I make a very noble effort to not cancel out on plans when I am not feeling well. However the problem with this is that people forget that I do have limitations. Because I am trying so hard to make the life I do have count for something and to not waste too many of my days, I even forget that I have limitations.

As I have written about previously, I went back to work last Spring in an attempt to get back into the nursing profession. I work in a school as a substitute school nurse and had the summer off. Once I am back to work, I absolutely have to back off on all non-work activities and watch my stress in order to avoid a flare-up in my symptoms. My experience with working thus far is that for every day I work, I need at least two days to recover. Between the joint pain, muscle pain, eye issues, fatigue, and brain fog, sometimes one day of work feels like three or four days. And to be honest, it is worth it. I enjoy being back to work that much.

That is a huge reason why I have been so busy lately; because I knew I would likely be getting called soon to go into work and I wanted to do some quality living before that happened. Not that I don’t enjoy myself the rest of the year but like I said, it needs to more limited and thought out.

So this past weekend, I knew I wasn’t doing all that great; the fatigue was overwhelming, to the point where I would cry in the car on the way home. And the fatigue felt much worse than what I’m used to and I knew something wasn’t right. But, I followed through with my commitments, had some fun along the way, and sure enough, all hell broke loose: migraines, sinus pain, ear pain, joint pain, and chills. I forced myself to go to my water aerobics class Monday morning and almost passed out. I started treating myself with decongestants, acupuncture and a neti-pot, with some relief, until my asthma acted up the worst it has in years, on Tuesday night. Two times using my rescue inhaler and I knew I was doctor bound first thing this morning.

What is wrong with me in itself is not a big deal. I have something viral (if I am not better by Friday, I go on antibiotics) that is affecting my sinuses and subsequently, my lungs, which were not moving as much air as they should be. Any type of infection always flares up my autoimmune symptoms, especially the fatigue, and it gets more complicated for me than for many other people. A steroid nasal spray and a steroid inhaler should hopefully fix me up quick. I am really hoping to stay off oral steroids as I just passed the six month mark of being off them and let me tell you, that is a rare occasion indeed. Granted, my life might be easier on them, but since I have already started to develop some minor long-term complications from them, they are a last resort.

To be honest, I wasn’t being as careful as I should have been. Not just because of my schedule, but because this time of year is ragweed season and I have a severe allergy. Despite my symptoms, I was depending on one allergy supplement (which apparently wasn’t managing things) and allergy shots, and hence the sinus/lung issues emerged. But isn’t that almost a good thing in a way? Instead of spending every day thinking, worrying, and dealing with every little physical symptom that crossed my path, me and my invisible illness were taking advantage of opportunities in a very visible world.

There is something very important I have learned from all this. Nope, it’s not about balancing your life with a chronic illness. Believe it or not, I already learned that lesson a while ago, even if I don’t get it right some of the time. I have learned that since I have to live with this illness the rest of my life, and most likely will not see a cure in my lifetime, that I have to make sure to do this one thing:

I have to live my life.
Now.

I have to take advantage of all the days where I can get out of bed more easily. I have to stop worrying about when the next big autoimmune crisis will come. I have to stop worrying about how clean my house is, especially when there is some better way to spend my precious energy. While I cannot ignore my illness, it is important for me to sometimes act “as if”…act as if I am not sick…act as if I can do anything. Because honestly, sometimes I think having this illness is more mental than physical. I see that in myself and I see it with others who battle this illness every day.

So if you are reading this and you do have some type of chronic illness, try to be more visible, Do something, anything. Educate people around you about your illness. Sit in a library and read a book rather than by yourself at home. Talk to people while you are waiting in line at the Social Security office. Take a risk and go away from home overnight without ruminating over all the “what ifs” that can happen.

If you are reading this and you do not have some type of chronic illness or health issue, I will admit, I am a bit jealous. I get especially jealous of people who are healthy physically and mentally and then don’t take advantage of their good fortune. Stop wasting time over the drama around you. Get outside. Volunteer to help those less fortunate.

Live!

30 Things You May Not Know About My Invisible Illness!

September 5, 2013 / / 3 Comments
I follow a blog called Interstitial Cystitis: Catherine’s Journey and she did a blog entry based on a questionnaire she found on an invisible illness website. I read it and thought it was a great way to better inform people about what it is like to live with Sjögren’s syndrome, which is usually an invisible illness. It’s ironic because I just talked about invisible illness in my previous blog entry on scooters and Disney. So here is my questionnaire. Please feel free to copy and paste and to your own. Awareness is critical!
 
 

In honor of National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week (September 9-15, 2013), they asked those of us suffering with chronic, invisible illness to answer the question: “30 Things You May Not Know About My Invisible Illness”.  Here are mine:

  1. The illness(es) I live with are: Sjögren’s syndrome. Also Factor V Leiden, Hypothyroidism, PCOS, Asthma, ?Interstitial Cystitis, Esophageal Motility Disorder
  2. I was diagnosed with it (Sjögren’s) in the year: 2011
  3. But I had symptoms since: 2007-2008
  4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Being out of work and on disability; having to take rest periods throughout the day.
  5. Most people assume: A lot. Specifically that I must be feeling well because I “look” fine and that I am taking advantage of the system because I am young and disabled/on Medicare. 
  6. The hardest part about mornings are: Figuring out how I am going to prioritize my day.
  7. My favorite medical TV show is: Grey’s Anatomy. 
  8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: My laptop. It makes writing easier and keeps me connected to the world on days I cannot leave the house.
  9. The hardest part about nights are: Pain. My pain is usually worse at night. And not sleeping.
  10. Each day I take: At least 15 pills/supplements. And that is an improvement.
  11. Regarding alternative treatments: I have been doing this for about 10 months. I am not as convinced that alternative medicine can “cure” autoimmune illnesses but I have had significant improvement with a lot of my issues so I think alternative medicine is a critical aspect of my treatment plan.
  12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: Neither. This is a dumb question.
  13. Regarding working and career: I miss it. I miss caring for other people on a daily basis and I miss the intellectual challenge of working in the medical field. I enjoy writing but I have come to find out that I enjoyed “going” to work.
  14. People would be surprised to know: I get sick of hearing people complain sometimes. Not my friends who confide in me about something, even about minor matters. But I get sick of  people complaining on Facebook about the stupidest things. I try to sit back and remember that everyone’s issues are different and important to them. It bothers me when people are always (note that I said always) complaining about their kids. Be grateful you have them.
  15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: That I will never be cured.
  16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Write a book which is currently being published!
  17. The commercials about my illness:  Don’t exist! 
  18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Being able to just “get up and go” whenever I want; being spontaneous; working. Most of all I miss waking up and physically feeling good.
  19. It was really hard to have to give up: Some of the foods I used to enjoy; my nursing job.
  20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: Writing!
  21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: There are SO many things! But since it is only one day, I would go skydiving.
  22. My illness has taught me: What it is like to truly physically suffer. It has taught me to be grateful and humble. It has taught me the value of true friendships and the necessity of keeping toxic, negative people out of my life. It has taught me who my real friends are. It has taught me to appreciate the everyday events in life.
  23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: Advice on how to handle my illness. This is a fine line. I am OK when somebody mentions something to me once i.e.: a Paleo diet. But it ticks me off when they bring it up over and over again. It also upsets me beyond all reason when someone I know tries to sell me some “miracle cure”. Completely classless. Luckily, it doesn’t happen often. There are a few other things but those are the biggies.
  24. But I love it when people: Call me or check in via e-mail. Spontaneous visits. I love it when people tell me that my writing has made a difference in their life.
  25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: Way too many to list. If you go to my blog’s Facebook page, you will see what I mean.
  26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: Never, ever give up.
  27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: That I am happier now than before I was diagnosed.
  28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: There is no one thing because so many people have done so much for me. Things that I appreciate a lot though include: offering to bring me lunch or dinner, offering a ride to an appointment, sending me regular mail (like in the mailbox!), making me laugh, talking to me about anything besides me being sick.
  29. I’m involved with Invisible Awareness Week because: I think it’s important to help raise awareness and educate others about what those of us living with invisible illness(es) are really going through each and every day.
  30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Hopeful!

To Scoot Or Not To Scoot, That Is The Question

September 4, 2013 / / 7 Comments

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.

                     *********************************************************

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.

The Smell of the Sheets

March 20, 2013 / / 10 Comments

I went to lie down on a stretcher this morning and as I got comfortable on my back and waited for the radiology technician to come back in the room, I was struck by a smell. A familiar smell. One that prompted my brain to flash various images through my head, one right after the other. Images of different procedures, some painful and some not. Images of myself sitting in a hospital bed in various rooms throughout this particular hospital where I was having my test done. Images of  emergency rooms where I have sat.

What was this smell? I finally realized, while laying on the stretcher this morning, that it was the smell of the hospital sheet covering the stretcher. All of a sudden, I realized that the smell of the hospital sheet is as commonplace to me as the smell of fresh baked cookies or bread to someone else. It is very distinct. The smell was representative of all the stretchers I have laid upon in the past several years. There are too many to count. The sheets have laid below or on top of my struggling body as I have tossed and turned in the middle of the night in my hospital room, while I have vomited on an emergency room stretcher, and while a tube has been put down my airway and into my lungs during a procedure. The smell of the sheets symbolizes my life as a patient.

I realized as I was laying there this morning that I had not smelled the sheets in exactly three months, which is when I had my last procedure or test done, excluding laboratory tests. This particular test on this morning was an ultrasound of my kidneys and bladder and was painless, as well as easy for me. Basically a walk in the park. No needles, no gagging, no fear of the unknown, as I have encountered with so many other tests and procedures throughout the past few years. But the smell of the sheets reminds me of those times and the struggles I have had.

Last fall I made a very thought out decision to see a therapist/counselor who has a specialty in seeing people with chronic illness. I was at the point where I felt like I needed some help in learning how to cope with my illness and the multitude of issues surrounding being forty-one years old and disabled. I did not like the fact that my illness seemed to consume most of my conversations with my fiancé, friends, and family. I was finding it harder and harder to discuss anything else besides my symptoms, treatments, fears, and anxiety. I wanted more out of my relationships than that. Easier said than done when you have an illness that you are physically aware of almost every minute of the day. It wasn’t that I did not want to learn more about Sjogren’s, continue my book about it, or socialize with other Sjogren’s sufferers, but rather I wanted to find a way to have Sjogren’s be a part of my life instead of the focus of it.

I was also starting to struggle with significant anxiety in relation to upcoming procedures and I was having nightmares about them as well. Not surprising considering what I have gone through in the past couple of years and even before that with my lymphoma diagnosis, both in regards to procedures and medical experiences in general. I have had incisions made in the tops of my feet and had thin wires threaded up along the lymph vessels of my legs. I have woken up during a bronchoscopy because I was not properly sedated. I have had scary experiences with my heart in the emergency room and honestly thought I was going to die. The list goes on and on.

So I have been working diligently with this therapist. I have not mentioned, previous to this posting, this fact to many people. Actually only my fiancé, parents, and minister have known. I have not kept it to myself because I am embarrassed about seeing a therapist, but I guess I did not want people to know exactly how much I do emotionally struggle with having this illness. I want to be viewed and known as a warrior; a person who can handle all this illness business without much difficulty.

Yeah, I know. That’s crap. It’s the people who know they need help that are the warriors.

I have realized recently how much working with this therapist has helped me. Many times when people have trauma issues of any type, there are certain triggers that can bring back memories and feelings surrounding the traumatic event. For me, sometimes it is the smell of the sheets. The smell that brings back those images and reminds me of the pain, fear, and uncertainty that surrounds each difficult medical event. But this morning was much different when I recognized the smell of the sheets. When the smell prompted me to play back some of the difficult procedures and medical experiences I have had, mostly over the past year, I did not have the anxiety. Rather, I remembered them just as events that took place. Events that are a part of my journey. Were the events unpleasant? Yes. But the memories no longer haunt me while I sleep.

Therapy has also made a difference in my interpersonal relationships. Sjogren’s is still a part of my conversations at times. It needs to be as it is part of who I am. However I have recently found myself able to consistently focus on other aspects of my life in conversations and dealings with others. Because despite my continued physical struggles, I no longer think of myself primarily as a sick person. Instead, I think of myself as a person who has an illness. There is a huge difference. That difference actually made me realize something about one night last week. I had attended a social event with my fiancé and five friends that lasted about four hours. Not once in that time of conversing and socializing did the topic of my health come up. That is a very good thing. Not because I don’t ever want to talk about it or have people ask how I am doing but because it means that I have been able to have a life outside of Sjogren’s.

The smell of the sheets this morning transported me back in time to my struggles, but not to my anxiety and fear. This time the smell was a strong reminder to me of my strength and my ability to endure. It reminded me that yes, I am a patient. But that is not all I am. And so I have chosen to share this experience with you. To remind you that you don’t always have to be brave and you don’t always have to be strong. It is OK to ask for help. It is OK to be human.

Another Morning

February 7, 2012 / / 6 Comments
“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive-to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

I wake up and it is another day. I stop to think of that fact and be grateful for it. That is important, very important. It is so easy to get lost and discouraged first thing when you wake up. I have slept maybe two hours. Maybe four. The nights can be long. But I am awake. And I can move. Maybe not always easily or without pain, but I can get myself out of bed. I lie there and think about the struggles ahead of me that day and then I stop to think about what I can offer that day to make it a better day, one with a purpose; for myself or for someone else.

I prioritize in my head what is necessary to do and what is optional. Most of it is optional, it has to be. If there is an appointment I have to be at, the day revolves around getting to that appointment. I get out of bed and take my medications. So many pills in their carefully laid out pill box.

Steroids.
Inhalers.
A yellow pill.
A lot of white ones.

It is helpful to be an organized person when it comes to the taking of the pills.

Next priority is drinking as much as possible. The dryness has woken me up throughout the night, despite the humming of the constant humidifier and fumbling with eye drops and mouth moisturizer several times in those wee hours. The concept of too much water does not exist in my mind. My body soaks it up eagerly like it has never seen it before. Now, a bathroom run for me. A bathroom run and fresh water for Molly. I am already having difficulty convincing my arms and legs to work in their proper fashion.

Back to bed to check e-mails and Facebook. I am looking for inspiration. Something that will make me laugh. A kind thought from someone. A status update about something good happening to someone; something to help replace the light and joy that the steroids have taken from my normally even keeled and sunny disposition. I take a cookbook or two back to bed with me to figure out what nourishing meals I can put in my body to help heal it. If the day is all mine and not one that is a slave to doctor’s offices or hospitals, I try to figure out how much I can do and again, what the priorities are. The priority might be completing a load of laundry. It might be vacuuming. Whatever it is will have a price, a physical price. I used to feel accomplished when I could go and go for fifteen hours at a time. Now I am grateful if I can manage to get through thirty minutes of activity.

And so it goes. Getting myself showered and dressed used to take forty-five minutes with a good end result. Now it is a two hour production and the goal is a clean body and clean clothes. It’s not as hard as last week though. That is a very good thing. I miss being able to do more physical activity. I miss being able to walk my dog and feel the power of my stride underneath my body. I will never take that for granted again. My wish is that no one else reading this ever does either. How much will I get back? Yet to be determined.

I am learning the art of being gentle with myself.  I am more aware of the importance of caring for myself in the most basic of ways. The comfort of hot water on my body. The wholeness of fresh green vegetables entering my body. The smell of fresh air. The power of a comforting touch. Things which I never noticed when I was too busy running from one place to the next; from one task to the other.

This illness forces me to be more aware. Every hour, every minute is a reminder of all that is currently not working correctly in my body. Constant thirst. Constant eye irritation and difficulty getting my eyes to adjust. Weakness. A medication of some sort almost every hour. Arms that shake. Side effects from medications. Legs that don’t move like they should. Pain. Food that gets stuck in my throat when I swallow. Exhaustion.

Frustration.

Anger.

Fear.

I will be more than this.
I am more than this.

Remember to smile.

Breathe.

Remember what is important.

Breathe.

Remember that another morning will come.

And with it, hope as well.

Photo: Courtesy of Google Images

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