For Everything There is a Season

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

Category: loss (Page 1 of 2)

Chronic Illness and Fear

February 11, 2017 / / 6 Comments

Photo Courtesy of Myers Creative Photography

I had this huge revelation the other day and I am sharing it with you because I would bet money that some of you have experienced very similar feelings.

The back story is as follows:

For about a month, I haven’t been feeling right and in a way that feels different than “just Sjögren’s.” As I blogged about earlier this week, my main debilitating symptom has been fatigue. Now fatigue has been a Sjögren’s symptom for me since day one, but this has been even more over the top than usual.

I recently increased one of my thyroid medications (I have hypothyroidism from radiation treatments I received for cancer in 1996.) and was wondering if my levels were totally out of whack. I had them tested earlier this week but I have not received the results because this is the one specialist I have left that just cannot get their act together enough to get me results in a prompt manner; last time it took almost four week…ridiculous!

In addition to the fatigue and thyroid checking, I was working a little more than usual and I work in a school. Every single germ known to mankind was circulating through each of the three schools I work in and next thing I know, I was down for the count about two weeks ago and instead of getting better, I got much worse with a respiratory infection, fever, the list goes on and on. And I just couldn’t bounce back. I finished a round of antibiotics and now am on day four of a higher dose of prednisone for my lungs (I have autoimmune related respiratory issues). Yesterday was the first day I was able to leave the house on my own and actually participate in the world.

For a few years now I have been seeing a therapist to help me deal with having a severe chronic illness. My main reason for starting to see her was to help me find more balance between my illness life and the rest of my life, especially in my relationships. She has done that and so much more. However I had not seen her for about a month and I finally got back in to see her a few days ago. I was a bit of a mess. I was totally overwhelmed with not only my Sjögren’s symptoms and issues, but the current respiratory/flu/cold junk I had as well. I was especially worried about the fact that I could barely move my body from the bed to the bathroom. It took me hours that day just to drag myself to the car to get to her office.

I was freaking out about how sick I was, more so than I thought was appropriate at the time. I mean seriously, EVERYBODY in all of western Massachusetts has been sick, I was no exception. Granted yes, I have underlying issues that can make things like a cold or flu much worse for me, but still. I was getting really nervous that I couldn’t just bounce back.

So my very rational therapist pointed out to me that yes, there’s a lot of illness going around but also that it takes time to recover from these colds, flus, respiratory infections, etc. And that maybe, I have been feeling so poorly over the past month because like everyone else, I have been hit hard and need whatever time it takes to heal and recover.

Now this seems like common sense and it is,and that is when I had my revelation.

I was scared.

Because I was sick for a more prolonged period of time than usual, I was scared that it wasn’t just a typical “you will get over it” type of winter illness.

No, I was afraid that THIS would be my new normal.

Why would I be so panicked about such a seemingly irrational thought? Tons of people get sick in the winter.

Because in 2008, this IS what happened to me.

In 2008, I went from a fully functioning 30-something to a disabled, out-of-work 30-something in about a month. Because nobody knew what was wrong with me at the time, I truly thought I was dying. Life as I knew it completely changed in every single aspect: my job, my home, my finances, my marriage, my sense of identity, and especially how I perceived myself. I went from working as a full-time nurse to working as a full-time patient. Almost everything was taken away from me.

I realized that all this current business was all about FEAR.

I was basing my current thoughts about how I physically felt on my previous experiences, rather than on the reality of the current situation.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but fear has been a common theme interwoven with having a chronic illness like Sjögren’s, and the numerous other health issues that plague me as well. And I have to tell you, fear is a bitch. I have been working hard to get through those fears over the past year or two: fear of getting sicker, fear of losing my disability or health insurance, fear of becoming totally incapacitated, fear of traveling…what if something happens while we are away?? Fear of losing more friends…fear of never being able to support myself again…I could go on and on. But this realization that I was now afraid of a typical winter respiratory illness and the symptoms associated with it being my “new normal” threw me off a bit because until that moment in the therapist’s office, it never dawned on me that was why I was so upset.

Here’s the thing though and I wholeheartedly believe this. Once you realize your fears AND acknowledge them, you are halfway to defeating them. By recognizing them and facing them head on, we can slowly begin to master them. For me, in addition to therapy, meditation and yoga has been helpful. Meditation because it allows me to clear my head, as much as possible, of the constant stream of racing thoughts and worries I often have. Yoga because it helps me gain some control of my body, breathing, and thoughts. Yoga, shows me what my body is capable of and therefore lessens the fear of my own body.

I would be interested in hearing about what fears you may have associated with living with a chronic illness and how you deal with them, if at all.

 Feel free to comment below…

Life’s Challenges

December 12, 2016 / / 4 Comments

I promised myself I would not go through another day without blogging. I noticed this past weekend that it has been almost three months since I posted anything. I have done some writing since my last blog post, but it was writing done just for me. That is one of my biggest challenges with having a blog; being an authentic writer while still not doing damage to other people in my life.

A LOT has happened since August. It’s funny because I kept telling myself, “Oh this would make a great blog post” or “I should write about this.” But sometimes I get like that: I just want to experience life without feeling obligated to write about it all the time.

In August, my husband and I took a dream trip to Ireland. It was a trip we had been talking about since we started dating over six years ago. We had the money saved but I kept stalling on planning it due to my health issues and my fears about being in another country with said health issues. I finally got over that and we had this amazing eleven day adventure (with prednisone on board to get me through the adventure) of Northern Ireland, Co. Donegal, Co. Mayo, Co. Galway, Co. Offaly and one of the Aran Islands. That is a topic I will still probably blog about at some point in the future!

About a week after we got home, we got SLAMMED with one crisis after another, some major, some annoying. We had some large, unexpected expenses, an unwell family member, a major family relationship conflict, and then our fifteen year old dog, Molly, ended up in the E.R. and was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. We had to make a decision and we decided to go ahead and bring her to a cardiologist for treatment. She is doing better in regards to her heart, but the side effects of the medications have made life much more challenging for my husband and I. And if you’ve ever had an elderly dog, you know the expense that comes with keeping them comfortable.

Molly has also had some challenges just in terms of getting old. It would appear that she has very little, if any, hearing and this past weekend we noticed that maybe her eyesight is becoming an issue. We did decide that we will likely not go any further in pursuing treatment when the next medical crisis for her comes along. We were hoping for her to get through this Christmas and with less than two weeks to go, that possibility looks very likely.

That was all in September. In October, we got news that one of my closest friends, Steve, who had been living with Stage 4 colon cancer for over two years, was getting sicker. We are an hour and a half away from him and his family, so a lot of October was spent traveling back and forth and spending as much time with him as possible.

On November 5th, my friend lost his brave battle.

That experience with him was life changing for me and it was one that requires and deserves so much more than what I am going to write here today.

A story for another time.

Then on November 24th (Thanksgiving Day), my sister-in-law, Stacie, passed away very unexpectedly. This was made more difficult by the fact that we live fourteen hours away from where she lived. She was the first person my husband ever told me about when we started dating. I knew her death was going to be earth shattering for him.

I just realized this afternoon that I still have not fully processed her death.

As I am writing this, I think it is hitting me that I have been in survival mode since August, even with the vacation. One day at a time.

Get things done.
Be present.
Just get through the next hour.
You can do it.
You can survive this.

And I did. Of course the stress contributed to a major autoimmune flare for which I am currently on a three week run of prednisone for…one of my tougher prednisone runs, that is for sure. And, I have been having some issues with anxiety which has not been a major issue for years. But, I have people helping me with that and more importantly, I know how to help myself through that.

My attitude right now is to go into Christmas taking care of myself as much as possible. This has meant making some changes to our routine and traditions this year. It has meant a lot of tolerance and understanding from my husband towards me and from me towards my husband. The past few months have reminded me of how important it is to choose well when it comes to a life partner.  It has also reminded me of how very important it is to choose well when it comes to the people we surround ourselves with.

Isn’t that mostly what life is about though? Going through life with people? In the past few months I have learned so much about myself, my husband, and who is going to be there at times when the phone rings at 8am and your friend of thirty years tells you he has about two weeks to live and you are in the car headed out of town less than an hour later, not sure of when you will be back and what your life will look like when you do get back home.

Those are the moments that define you.
And the people who loved me through it are the ones that remind me of how rich my life is.

Go love your people.
Tell them.
Show them
Put your phones away and be with them.

Reclaiming My Voice

November 5, 2012 / / 6 Comments

 
“Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, expels diseases, softens every pain, subdues the rage of poison, and the plague.” ~ John Armstrong
 
 

Grief is a sneaky invader; creeping up on you when you least expect it sometimes. Maybe it makes its guest appearance after a random conversation or during those still hours when the house is quiet. Sometimes grief is over the loved one we have lost. Sometimes grief comes in the form of losing something that we were once capable of doing.

My invader made a visit last Thursday. I wasn’t prepared for it but then again, are we ever really prepared?

I understood the circumstances of why I was feeling particularly sad last Thursday. I had been spending some time last week with a friend of ours at doctor’s appointments. He had asked me to be, as a nurse and as a friend, a second set of ears in preparation for a major upcoming surgery he was having this week. A surgery he was going through without his wife, who suddenly passed away at such a young age; almost two years ago.

His wife, my friend.

Of course I have thought about my friend in these past two years, but it has been a long time since I have mourned her. I had gone through my grieving process and I had chosen to remember her with fond memories and joy. However last week made me stop and think about how very unfair life can be sometimes. It didn’t seem right that he couldn’t have her there with him by his side. What a loss this world experienced when she left us. The grief felt palpable once again.

Once I came home from the second day of doctor’s visits, the house was quiet when the grief hit me and I decided that maybe the best way to deal with it would be to go on my computer and browse through some photos and videos of my friend. Remember her with laughter. Like the photos she took of me eating soggy grilled asparagus. It looked like I was eating worms. Don’t ask! I eventually ended up scanning YouTube for videos as our church posts its services and choir performances videos on there.

Choir.
A tough place for me to be lately. Actually, I haven’t been there as much.

My friend was in the choir and she was the one responsible for getting me involved in our church choir. Singing for God has been one of my steadfast passions until recently. I say recently because not being able to sing for the past few months, due to struggles with my autoimmune illness, has been a loss for me. Sometimes the difficulty has been with my lungs, fatigue, the dryness of my vocal cords, or issues with reflux affecting my throat. The fact that this has happened to other Sjogren’s patients has just discouraged me all the more. A lot of the time, I truly cannot physically sing and sometimes it is just energy that I cannot afford to spend that particular day or week. Although I have to be honest, I do wonder if occasionally I am just so exhausted and discouraged, that it is just easier to sit it out. Don’t tell anyone though because most of the time, people don’t understand that part of having a chronic illness unless they have experienced it themselves.

As I was looking through these church videos, I came across a YouTube video of my fiance and I singing the song “Mary Did You Know?” at our church Christmas cantata last year. A cantata dedicated to my friend’s memory. A song that has become significant to me because I had to overcome respiratory issues to be able to pull off that performance. It was a good performance. And I was grief stricken again. Because when I heard my voice on that video, I felt like physically, I wasn’t in the same place as last year. Actually I know I am not. My illness has taken more from me physically this year, including at times, the quality of my voice. Is that selfish? Maybe. Because let’s face it, compared to my friend not being here, it’s not as significant. But it is still my loss.

Fast forward to Friday. I am sitting at a Women of Faith conference in Hartford, CT. An incredible event that you will probably hear more about at a later date. I am thoroughly enjoying listening to a Christian comedian. A man named Mark Lowry.

Mark Lowry.
Why does that name sound familiar?

I decide to stop torturing myself trying to place the name because this man is so funny, I don’t want to miss a word that he says. He’s that good.

What I didn’t realize, until he opens his mouth to do so, is that this man can also sing. What a voice on him! What a talent to be able to make people laugh and to be able to sing like that.

What I also didn’t realize? That this man write songs.

How do I know this? Because at the end of his performance, he sang a song that he wrote. A song that over thirty recording artists have performed since he wrote it.

The song?
“Mary Did You Know?”

Seriously? Come on.

Now you can say what you will about coincidence and such but here are the facts. I had tickets for this conference for months, but did not know that the man who wrote the lyrics to this song was going to be there. I had not watched the video of that Christmas cantata in at least eight or so months. I also did not know about my friend’s surgery until last week.

So I don’t believe this was all coincidence. I am typically not a person who makes radical proclamations and I certainly do not typically write about them publicly online; although maybe I will more often now.

I believe this was God speaking to me.
I believe this was my friend speaking to me.

I believe they were telling me that as long as I am not harming myself, to keep singing as best as I can, when I can, but to push a little harder.

I believe they were telling me to stop comparing myself to other people. To get back to my speech therapy exercises, to do some research online, to stop reading about what other Sjogren’s patients can and cannot do for a while.

And finally, I believe they were telling me to believe a little less in my illness and a little more in myself.


































































































Photo Courtesy of Google Images

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

To My Friend ~ One Year Later

December 11, 2011 / / 5 Comments
You can read To My Friend written on December 17, 2010 here: http://www.christinemolloy.com/2010/12/to-my-friend.html
“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” ~ Robert Benchley

It has been almost one year since you left us my friend. I have been thinking about you a lot lately, especially as we get ready for another Christmas Cantata.  As December approached this year, I found it very difficult to think about the events that happened at this time last year. It felt like I was mourning you all over again, although to a lesser degree. But that has changed over the past week. I gave myself the time and the space I needed to grieve again and now I am  remembering the good times. When I think of asparagus and copper pennies, I cannot help but smile. As next weekend approaches, I just want to remember you with smiles and with laughter. I think that is how you would want it.

Mary sits in your choir seat now. It seemed like the right thing to do after your memorial service…the healthy thing to do. Sometimes when I look at that chair, I remember how your choir robe was gently laid over it with the photo that Chuck took; which was how we had it for the Cantata last year. I try to sit next to or as close as I can to Mary, as much as possible. I know it sounds strange but somehow sitting in that seat next to where you used to sit makes me feel closer to you.

You would be so happy with the choir. Most of us that joined with you, Alex, Tom, and Meaghan for the Christmas Cantata last year are still singing together a year later. Many of us never intended for our choir commitment to extend past the Cantata but in true Kathy form, you brought us all together and we couldn’t break that circle apart.  Plus your gentle persuasion on Carla paid off. She was not only our choir director for six months while Dan was away, but she sings with us now that Dan is back. Thank you for bringing her talent and her special friendship to our church. She has been such a blessing.

For the longest time, it was so difficult for me to go over to the house after you left us. It didn’t seem right that you weren’t there. I would cry all the way home the first few times I was there but gradually, it got easier. Without even intending to I think, Harry made it easier because he was so open about your passing and about how things felt different. It helps to be able to talk about it. Mary and I went to the house last weekend and helped Harry put the Christmas tree up. I felt like in a small way, we were honoring you by doing that. Instead of mourning you, we were celebrating you; especially with all of those purple Christmas decorations! It helped me be more at peace. I hope it did for your family as well.

You were taken from us way too soon at too young an age.Your death has given me pause about what is truly important in life. I try to remember that when I am feeling beaten down by life or when I am facing obstacles that seem too difficult. I remind myself that in a blink of an eye, it can all be taken away. Not only my life, but the lives of those around me. So I try to be more patient, forgiving, and tolerant. I remember to cherish my days and not squander them.

I still struggle once in a while with the singing when my health problems are flaring up. It happened again very recently, but you were with me. I remember your words from last year, clearly in my mind, like it was yesterday. You encouraged me to work hard and beat the odds to be able to sing. And when I didn’t think I was good enough, you believed in me because you knew that like you, the music was in my heart.

Thank you for your faith in me.

Thank you for your friendship.

Thank you for your love.

You are always in our hearts.

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