I wrote a draft euology for my mom today. I'm not expecting she's going to go any moment. I just recall a couple years ago I waited until my grandma was going until I wrote hers. I was dealing with so much at the time, namely grief, and my words were heavy hearted. I had inspiration today, so ... I have a solid working foundation anyway.
Spent the day being domestic. Made pancakes for breakfast. Had a delicious pulled chicken taco lunch. Then made a beef stew in the slow cooker. It's nice to relax at home, I really enjoy it!
My husband and I have been under the weather. Today he's much worse off than I, and he kept plans with his family only to return home totally wiped.
This New Years Eve-ning has just been really super duper low key. No plans. He's watching The Wolf of Wall Street on his iPad. Then a text comes in from one of our friends about whether we wanted to see a movie tomorrow.
This particular friend I've known since 1999. We've been close at times. Though forgiven, I will always remember a time when I was at my lowest. He told me it was really hard for him to see me that way, and so he kept his distance until after I worked through it. Working through it took months.
The past few years this friend has occurred to me as someone who thrives on self-inflicted crises. For a time it seemed all we discussed were his issues. Once in recent months he stopped by and engaged me about what I've been dealing with.
It's been weeks since we've connected. It's been weeks since I've really connected with a lot of people being heads down with life as it is.
So I get this friends text invite to a movie tomorrow, one I've not heard of. It was a question whether I wanted to go. In that moment I just replied with a simple "No."
It was a group text my husband was on, and even he challenged me. I didn't want to so I was honest about not wanting to. Then I get an individual text from my friend:
"Your response to my invite hurt my feelings. Is there something wrong that I don't know about?"
I replied:
"Just wasn't something I wanted to do, so I wrote no. That is all."
He replied:
"I guess I'm sensitive and get my feelings hurt for no reason. There hasn't been a hello or anything for God knows how long. Maybe I'm too selfish for anticipating some type of acknowledgment of our friendship."
I replied:
"Did you not get my text on Xmas? Or my acknowledgment about hanging out after the holidays?"
He replied:
"Apparently not. We don't speak the same language anymore."
I replied:
"Between having my mom & Al with us since Thanksgiving, getting them relocated, that my mom is dying and I'm struggling with my own health issues ... my plate is a little full. Though this is a very difficult phase of life, I know it will just be a short part of it. I'm doing the very best I can. Thank you for your understanding."
He replied:
"We all have issues and struggles. Nobody's life is easy. I couldn't relate if I knew someone who had it easy. Having a pissing match about who has it harder doesn't get us anywhere."
I replied.
"Was not my intention. Thanks for being a friend?"
He replied:
"I'm digging my feet in the ground. The fact is I can count the number of times I've spoken to you in the last three years on one hand ..."
Had to push the pause button here. That last statement was an illustration of a point and absolutely in no way fact-based. He continued ...
"How is that being a friend? I'm afraid to reach out to you because I feel like an imposition because I feel you actually have greater issues to deal with than a simple 'hi, friend, how are you.' That might be too much of an expectations for me so that's my problem, my expectations might be too high. I acknowledge you have a lot on your plate and we all have tremendous issues to deal with."
I replied:
"I encourage you to take as long as it takes to think more clearly on the truth. Not just your truth, the absolute and ultimate truth. From there we may find ourselves able to engage one another in a meaningful dialogue."
He replied:
"And what's the absolute and ultimate truth?"
I replied: "That's for you to discover. Everyone lives in their own reality. And then there's just what's so."
He replied:
"Well there it is. I have found no truth so I'm not worthy of your friendship. Good night."
I replied:
"OK, just to be clear you made that up. If that's what you want then so be it. All the best to you in 2015 and well beyond. I sincerely mean that. I'll always want the best for you."
Here's a little something to know about this friend. In the last couple years he has gone through cycles with several of his and/or our other friends. He gets upset, acts out and/or does something to put the smack down on the friendship. Then a while later he thinks things through, feels regretful and reconciles. My encouragement to have this friend get clear on truth was more or less just an invitation to think things through. I know this friend well enough to understand he typically sees things, as most of us do, exclusively from his perspective. I've also seen this friend be the person who injures others and then takes no responsibility. My sense is this friend does at time expect more of others than others can expect of them.
Also, I clued him into what I'm dealing with right now, appealing for a little empathy. Goose egg. This time in my life right now feels to me like my personal Everest. Anyone who would trivialize what I'm dealing with, especially the weight of my mother dying, I will be much lighter and in better company continuing my journey without such "companionship." I understand the point of "everyone is fighting a battle no one knows anything about." I'm actively in the trenches, and really all I asked for is understanding. My sense is this friends need to have things the way they want them trumps what I'm able to and/or willing to give of myself right now. It won't always be this way. Even so, so be it.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Sunday, December 28, 2014
ER Revelation & Dose of Reality ...
Awoke around 6:00 a.m. as I wasn't able to draw breath. After coming to, it quickly resolved, yet my throat felt horrible with a terrible scratchiness. My windpipe felt really tight, constricted. As well I was short of breath with a bit of an unproductive cough.
I drank some water and it was difficult to swallow. My husband continued to sleep soundly next to me. The first thought I draw toward: "What now? Is this going to worsen?!"
It seemed to be uncomfortable laying on my back, so I sat up, which seemed to help. I continued to notice the uncomfortable sensations. I closed my eyes and gently breathed into them, with not much breath to draw.
"OK, maybe I'll get up and gargle with some salt water," I thought to myself. As I rose to my feet, I felt even more winded.
"Perhaps I had just better settle down for a minute," I thought again to myself. The next thought was that I hadn't been doing anything to provoke such a response from my body. I had been asleep, and for at least five or six hours.
I got back into bed, sitting upright. I noticed the sensations again. Upon noticing it felt like my throat and airway passage was further constricting. My throat got scratchier and I felt a lump in it that felt like a mass or that perhaps something was forming in my throat and not allowing full passage. My pulse quickened.
I went and got my phone off the charger. After unlocking it, I searched my browser to see when the nearest urgent care clinic would be open. There's one just a couple minutes up the road. Oh good, 8:00 a.m. What time is it now? It's 6:26 a.m. "Hmmm ... do I have that long?" Again to myself I thought. "Is this going to resolve itself or do I need to take further action? Is this serious? Dire? Lifethreatening?! Do I have enough time?" My thoughts continued their distress ...
"OK, calm yourself. It will be OK," I assured myself, physically being mindful of releasing tension anywhere in my body I felt it, especially my lungs, chest and throat, which were tight.
About twenty or so minutes pass. My husband awakens. "Are you OK?" he asks.
"Yeah, I think so ..." I replied unassuringly, and then explained to him in detail what I had been experiencing.
He throws off the covers, switches on the bright ceiling light and says in an utterly declarative manner, "Alright, I'm taking you to the ER at UW, and we're going to get to the bottom of all of this and get this resolved once and for all!"
"OK, I will take your lead on this," I said in absolute compliance. We threw on some clothes and away we went.
The thought of being in the car on the bustling freeway, even though it was before first light, gave me an uneasy feeling. It was chilly out, and I was already having some shivers when I was still wrapped snugly in bed. The head and tail lights of my black SUV flash on and off, an indication he'll be driving me in my car as he's the one who has the key. I climb in the passenger side and pull the hood of my thick woven sweater jacket up over my head. I close my eyes and breath gently with what breath I am able to carry in and out of my lungs. Feeling the strong pull of the car toward the driver side for an extended time, I could tell we were on the cloverleaf about to get onto state route 509 into town.
First what struck me was the rush and roar of traffic. The speed and urgency of the forward motion at 60 plus miles per hour. I opened my eyes. Lights flashing by. My heart sped up, my breath shortened. Most perilous of all, we live quite some distance from UW, and what if it's something serious and we don't make it in time?! What if I stop breathing? What would happen? How would my husband handle things?
I looked at the car ahead of us, focused on seeing the plate and almost noticing the make and model. It was a smaller, newer hatchback, like a Kia. I looked up at the sea of city lights as they sparkled in the distance in front of a dark and gloomy backdrop of barely distinguishable clouds. I suddenly remembered that saying "it's always darkest before dawn," and here we were in that very moment. What will my dawn look like? Am I going to survive this?
Suddenly towers of sleek glass and metal are passing over us, one by two by three. There are lights blazing in all directions. A bright red ambulance screams by in the oncoming lanes of Interstate 5. I think to myself, "Should we have called an ambulance? We're getting closer, will we make it in time?"
As we exited onto Montlake Boulevard, the streets were eerily desolate and quiet; complete juxtaposition to my racing mind and body. We get to the final protected left turn signal guarding the ER driveway entrance. It's red, steady red.
"It's OK, go!" I demanded. My husband obliged. As far as I was concerned, we couldn't get there fast enough. He let me off at the main entrance. I briskly stagger in and see a reception window right away. The chair in front of it is facing outward to greet me. There's no one there. No one behind the booth, nor in the hallway beside it, nor in the- Wait, there's a person in the waiting area changing the channel on a TV no one is watching, because there's no one other than her in the waiting area. I catch her eye as she turns away from her channel change.
"Are you here to check-"
"Yes!" I interjected over her.
She comes around into the booth and assumes a professional administrative position at the helm of the desktop terminal.
"Do you have some ID?" she asks.
"Do we have to go through all of this, really?" I thought to myself. Before I knew it a triage nurse greeted me, and took me back to check my vitals.
"Is anyone with you?" he asks.
"Yes, my husband." I replied. Almost no sooner had I said so, hubby appeared.
After asking me a host of questions about my symptoms and taking my vitals, I am taken back to a room and given a gown to change into. Pretty customary procedure here. The room is just able to accommodate a patient bed, a side chair, a medical stool, some bits of equipment and a counter with a sink. I change into the gown, take off my shoes and climb up onto the bed. Immediately I notice how much more comfortable this bed is than the one I was on at the Highline ER. Then I notice my breath shortness is still present, as is the throat soreness, as is the tightness in the front of my neck.
A short while later the resident doctor comes in to introduce herself and quiz me about my symptoms. Hadn't we gone through all of this already? We gave her a complete rundown of everything that's transpired from beginning to end. Terry did most of the talking as I was still quite winded. The doctor's with us a while longer and then leaves. The nurse comes in, inserts an IV, draws some blood and checks vitals.
"Um, if they're going to do a urinalysis, I have to go and could bring back a sample." I offer.
"Sure, there are cups in the restroom, do you know where it is and are you OK to walk there?"
"Yes, yes I think I am." So away I went and returned with a cup full of light amber. My husband was sitting back in the side chair and had found the TV remote.
"It's hermetically sealed so they can swap it down," he said, a reminder to me about how many creepy crawlies lurk in hospitals, like mersa. He began flipping through channels. He stopped on a channel with a man in church robes in a cathedral was talking about part of ancient Roman history. I thought that seemed heavy. Then another with a woman who was being violently chased down by a man. Um, no. The next he discovered was Fox news and he changed it before it could even register on Nielsen. He landed on Little Fockers, and that seemed alright. A little silly. Laughter after all is the best medicine.
"I heard you talking with my mom last night about my brother, what did you say to her?" I asked my husband.
"I brought up to her his misplaced priorities," he said. "He's only here for a short period of time. He went out last night, too. He slept all day yesterday when he could have spent time with your mom. He pulls a tag of a new $46 shirt, and says he has no money. Then how can he go out, two nights in a row, and party?! And be OK with us paying his airfare to come up here, which he also spent another $100 upgrading to first class. I just don't get it."
"I know, he has no grasp on reality," I said. "Was my mom upset?"
"Yes and no. I mean, sure, she is of course, she said that's just the way he is," he said.
"Yep. He gets a pass. Al gets a pass. I get her fist up my ass," I said.
"Your dad discarded her, and you've always been the stable one for her," he said.
"Yeah, real stable here, total rock," I quipped. Just then there was a knock at the door and in emerged a beautiful, young blonde woman with perfect makeup, a cute outfit and a clipboard. With a big, bright smile she said, "Hi, I'm the social worker."
Social worker? My mom has a social worker at the cancer clinic. Oh boy, this can't be good ...
She continued, "I brought you some resources for counseling services, including some really great, affordable graduate program resources at Bastyr. They have a great cognitive mindfulness program for dealing with anxiety."
She handed me a few white pages that were stapled in the top left corner. A few bolded headings had been highlighted in pink. Yeah, I thought the pink gave the pages a little something extra, too.
"Do you have any questions?" she asked us.
My husband and I looked at one another, me more toward him as if there was something more that I didn't pick up on. He said no, I just turned back and shrugged. She smiled and said OK, good and I hope you feel better, then spun around and breezed out of the room.
"Wait, did she say anxiety?" I thought to myself. I looked up at the clock and turned to my husband.
"What a fresh, perky spring breeze of pleasantness just blew through here at twenty after nine on a Sunday morning!" I quipped. "Did you see how well applied her face was? She was so sweet."
"Anxiety. That can't be right." I thought to myself. "I've yogaed, gone through a MBSR course, continue a mindfulness practice at home, taken Zen meditation classes, study Buddhism. I've seen an energist, psychic, spiritual guru. I've gone on a Shamanistic soul retrieval for goodness sake. How can this be right?!"
Call it intuitive, or just knowing me perhaps better than I knew myself at this juncture in my life, my husband smiled anticipatingly and allowed pause for me to process. I looked over the list of resources. One by one counseling, counseling and more counseling. The clue phone was ringing off the hook for me. You know what, I answered the call.
"Bubba," I said. (that's one of many of my pet names for him) "I know there's a lot going on right now. I guess I just didn't realize until now how big it is for me ... I'm aging, sure. That is a given. My mom is dying of cancer. Some guys run out and buy expensive Porches. I get sick for two years. Welcome to my midlife crisis."
And there it was, as plain and simple as the Midwest. My eyes welled with tears. I knew what a gift my husband had just given me for the holidays. It was terribly wrapped, and there is a strict no return policy. Yet is the most priceless and admirable thing another human being has done for me.
For so many weeks and months my husband has mentioned that ugly, dreaded word; anxiety. This always left me feeling like he thought I was going crazy, making this whole chronic illness thing up, that it was all just in my head. I'm medically hypothyroid and have chronic inflammation, one cannot just imagine that, can they?
If I step back and take a good, long look at the bigger picture, perhaps even being hypothyroid is just a component of being on a life path that clearly was not sustainable. My reality is altered, paradigm is shifting. Eureka! This really does explain a lot.
Bubba reached over, grabbed a hold of my hand a rubbed it. As comforting as that was, I've just been hammered with a huge dose of reality and a prescription for re-wiring my mind. I allowed the tears to stream down my face.
A while later the doctor returned, foremost asking if we had been paid a visit by the social worker. "You mean the fabulous fairy," I thought to myself. "Yes, she came by." I said.
And now for the shocking results of my ER urine, blood and x-ray labs (drum roll, please): Sore throat with some protein deficiency and a prescription for GERD (which I had already received from my GI doc). It was one of those moments where all I was really compelled to do was lay there and blink.
A little while later we were discharged and heading through the long hospital corridors to the car. I noticed all the peculiar modern artwork on the walls, some of it really disturbed me whereas previously I may have just somewhat noticed an object's presence. Now I think I'm really seeing things as they actually are. I'm capable of so much, and there are plenty of times I will want help. I get it.
As we were on the freeway home, I turned on the radio. I wanted to hear music as I happily watched the scenery go by. I turned on Sirius 70's on 7, and "Only Want to Be With You" was on. I took hold of my husband's hand as I gazed at him and smiled. In my head, however, are still those thoughts about what it's going to take as well as whether I'll get better. Of course, every thousand mile journey begins with a single step. For me, today, I feel like I took a giant leap. One cannot solve a problem if one doesn't acknowledge what the problem is.
Next thing I knew I was feeling lighter, my chest felt more open. The song "Alive Again" started playing. I sang along a little bit as I watched gleaming skyscrapers diminish into to towering port cranes diminish into low-rise warehouses, which bled into industrial wasteland and then timber enshrouded highway up our plateau toward home. The mood changed and so did songs. Finally "If You Don't Know Me By Now" aired, and all I could think about was how perfectly life unfolds. It's a matter of purely trusting and having faith you're going in the right direction. As a wise, beloved friend once told me, when you are on the right path, the doors of opportunity will open to assist your arrival. Isn't that the truth!
As we were nearing home, a couple things dawned on me. The first is I had best shoot a little text to my mom and let her know I'm OK and we'll be home soon. The next is to carefully consider what to share with she and Al when we get home.
"Bubba, I think it's best if we just tell them I'm being treated for GERD and have a protein deficiency," I said. "No good will come of telling them I've been unofficially diagnosed with stress induced anxiety. My mom would make it about her, she'd feel terrible and spiral."
He agreed and added perhaps we could politely ask to fill in the details at a later time.
"Bubba, with my Grandma we could just, you know, be with one another, gazing at one another lovingly, enjoying ourselves immensely without even having to converse, and it was like time could stand still." I recalled. "I keep thinking I might be able to find some of that magic in my mom, and I know that's an unrealistic expectation."
Again, he agreed, reiterating that's just not who she is anymore and I'm going to have to learn how to have a good relationship with her regardless. Of course I already know this, and it's one of the things that overwhelms me the most. I've been through the medical gauntlet with her these past six months as well as all of her emotions around victories and losses. I've been a coach, a guide, a parent, a problem solver. Heck, I've even been her Realtor, literally. All I want to do is continue being her son, and yet I know she deserves much more of me than that. I want to be a wonderful son and caregiver to her. So this starts with being a wonderful caregiver to myself.
As we rolled up to our home, I could see from the street my mom cross from the kitchen into the living room as if in anticipation of our arrival. Our place has huge windows, it's kind of a fishbowl. Anyway, she was in her white robe. The way she sat and was seated, she felt like my old mom again. It was sweet. My heart felt light.
My husband opened the door for me to walk in first. For a time I have been reluctant to be the first in the door and have to set the tone with people. So I paused for a brief moment, then proceeded confidently.
"You're home!" mom said. "You look so much better."
I immediately went to her and gave her a hug. "Thank you, I feel so much better."
"What did they say?"
At first I almost tabled the discussion entirely. Then I suddenly just felt more able, more free, to just say what was so. "They treated me for GERD, which I now have a prescription for, and told me that I'm protein deficient."
Both mom and Al seemed pleased it was nothing serious. In my mind, the seriousness is what lies ahead. It's a road I have yet to travel. I don't even know what to pack. Or maybe it's all the unpacking I'm going to be doing. Either way, I do get that this is big, at least for me. It's also good. It's a time for healing and preparing for whatever life has to dole out to me and especially to my mom.
A while later I scrolled through Facebook. I noticed I had some notifications. One of them was from my mom's cousin Karol who posted a comment on the Christmas photo I posted of my mom and I by our tree.
"Thank u brad for taking care of my sweet cousin patty!!! XOXO"
I liked her comment and posted a reply. "You know what, Karol, she's actually taking care of me." (with a winky face blowing heart kiss emoticon at the end)
As has been the case since I was 10 weeks old, my dear old mom is taking care of me yet again. This time as my profound teacher.
I drank some water and it was difficult to swallow. My husband continued to sleep soundly next to me. The first thought I draw toward: "What now? Is this going to worsen?!"
It seemed to be uncomfortable laying on my back, so I sat up, which seemed to help. I continued to notice the uncomfortable sensations. I closed my eyes and gently breathed into them, with not much breath to draw.
"OK, maybe I'll get up and gargle with some salt water," I thought to myself. As I rose to my feet, I felt even more winded.
"Perhaps I had just better settle down for a minute," I thought again to myself. The next thought was that I hadn't been doing anything to provoke such a response from my body. I had been asleep, and for at least five or six hours.
I got back into bed, sitting upright. I noticed the sensations again. Upon noticing it felt like my throat and airway passage was further constricting. My throat got scratchier and I felt a lump in it that felt like a mass or that perhaps something was forming in my throat and not allowing full passage. My pulse quickened.
I went and got my phone off the charger. After unlocking it, I searched my browser to see when the nearest urgent care clinic would be open. There's one just a couple minutes up the road. Oh good, 8:00 a.m. What time is it now? It's 6:26 a.m. "Hmmm ... do I have that long?" Again to myself I thought. "Is this going to resolve itself or do I need to take further action? Is this serious? Dire? Lifethreatening?! Do I have enough time?" My thoughts continued their distress ...
"OK, calm yourself. It will be OK," I assured myself, physically being mindful of releasing tension anywhere in my body I felt it, especially my lungs, chest and throat, which were tight.
About twenty or so minutes pass. My husband awakens. "Are you OK?" he asks.
"Yeah, I think so ..." I replied unassuringly, and then explained to him in detail what I had been experiencing.
He throws off the covers, switches on the bright ceiling light and says in an utterly declarative manner, "Alright, I'm taking you to the ER at UW, and we're going to get to the bottom of all of this and get this resolved once and for all!"
"OK, I will take your lead on this," I said in absolute compliance. We threw on some clothes and away we went.
The thought of being in the car on the bustling freeway, even though it was before first light, gave me an uneasy feeling. It was chilly out, and I was already having some shivers when I was still wrapped snugly in bed. The head and tail lights of my black SUV flash on and off, an indication he'll be driving me in my car as he's the one who has the key. I climb in the passenger side and pull the hood of my thick woven sweater jacket up over my head. I close my eyes and breath gently with what breath I am able to carry in and out of my lungs. Feeling the strong pull of the car toward the driver side for an extended time, I could tell we were on the cloverleaf about to get onto state route 509 into town.
First what struck me was the rush and roar of traffic. The speed and urgency of the forward motion at 60 plus miles per hour. I opened my eyes. Lights flashing by. My heart sped up, my breath shortened. Most perilous of all, we live quite some distance from UW, and what if it's something serious and we don't make it in time?! What if I stop breathing? What would happen? How would my husband handle things?
I looked at the car ahead of us, focused on seeing the plate and almost noticing the make and model. It was a smaller, newer hatchback, like a Kia. I looked up at the sea of city lights as they sparkled in the distance in front of a dark and gloomy backdrop of barely distinguishable clouds. I suddenly remembered that saying "it's always darkest before dawn," and here we were in that very moment. What will my dawn look like? Am I going to survive this?
Suddenly towers of sleek glass and metal are passing over us, one by two by three. There are lights blazing in all directions. A bright red ambulance screams by in the oncoming lanes of Interstate 5. I think to myself, "Should we have called an ambulance? We're getting closer, will we make it in time?"
As we exited onto Montlake Boulevard, the streets were eerily desolate and quiet; complete juxtaposition to my racing mind and body. We get to the final protected left turn signal guarding the ER driveway entrance. It's red, steady red.
"It's OK, go!" I demanded. My husband obliged. As far as I was concerned, we couldn't get there fast enough. He let me off at the main entrance. I briskly stagger in and see a reception window right away. The chair in front of it is facing outward to greet me. There's no one there. No one behind the booth, nor in the hallway beside it, nor in the- Wait, there's a person in the waiting area changing the channel on a TV no one is watching, because there's no one other than her in the waiting area. I catch her eye as she turns away from her channel change.
"Are you here to check-"
"Yes!" I interjected over her.
She comes around into the booth and assumes a professional administrative position at the helm of the desktop terminal.
"Do you have some ID?" she asks.
"Do we have to go through all of this, really?" I thought to myself. Before I knew it a triage nurse greeted me, and took me back to check my vitals.
"Is anyone with you?" he asks.
"Yes, my husband." I replied. Almost no sooner had I said so, hubby appeared.
After asking me a host of questions about my symptoms and taking my vitals, I am taken back to a room and given a gown to change into. Pretty customary procedure here. The room is just able to accommodate a patient bed, a side chair, a medical stool, some bits of equipment and a counter with a sink. I change into the gown, take off my shoes and climb up onto the bed. Immediately I notice how much more comfortable this bed is than the one I was on at the Highline ER. Then I notice my breath shortness is still present, as is the throat soreness, as is the tightness in the front of my neck.
A short while later the resident doctor comes in to introduce herself and quiz me about my symptoms. Hadn't we gone through all of this already? We gave her a complete rundown of everything that's transpired from beginning to end. Terry did most of the talking as I was still quite winded. The doctor's with us a while longer and then leaves. The nurse comes in, inserts an IV, draws some blood and checks vitals.
"Um, if they're going to do a urinalysis, I have to go and could bring back a sample." I offer.
"Sure, there are cups in the restroom, do you know where it is and are you OK to walk there?"
"Yes, yes I think I am." So away I went and returned with a cup full of light amber. My husband was sitting back in the side chair and had found the TV remote.
"It's hermetically sealed so they can swap it down," he said, a reminder to me about how many creepy crawlies lurk in hospitals, like mersa. He began flipping through channels. He stopped on a channel with a man in church robes in a cathedral was talking about part of ancient Roman history. I thought that seemed heavy. Then another with a woman who was being violently chased down by a man. Um, no. The next he discovered was Fox news and he changed it before it could even register on Nielsen. He landed on Little Fockers, and that seemed alright. A little silly. Laughter after all is the best medicine.
"I heard you talking with my mom last night about my brother, what did you say to her?" I asked my husband.
"I brought up to her his misplaced priorities," he said. "He's only here for a short period of time. He went out last night, too. He slept all day yesterday when he could have spent time with your mom. He pulls a tag of a new $46 shirt, and says he has no money. Then how can he go out, two nights in a row, and party?! And be OK with us paying his airfare to come up here, which he also spent another $100 upgrading to first class. I just don't get it."
"I know, he has no grasp on reality," I said. "Was my mom upset?"
"Yes and no. I mean, sure, she is of course, she said that's just the way he is," he said.
"Yep. He gets a pass. Al gets a pass. I get her fist up my ass," I said.
"Your dad discarded her, and you've always been the stable one for her," he said.
"Yeah, real stable here, total rock," I quipped. Just then there was a knock at the door and in emerged a beautiful, young blonde woman with perfect makeup, a cute outfit and a clipboard. With a big, bright smile she said, "Hi, I'm the social worker."
Social worker? My mom has a social worker at the cancer clinic. Oh boy, this can't be good ...
She continued, "I brought you some resources for counseling services, including some really great, affordable graduate program resources at Bastyr. They have a great cognitive mindfulness program for dealing with anxiety."
She handed me a few white pages that were stapled in the top left corner. A few bolded headings had been highlighted in pink. Yeah, I thought the pink gave the pages a little something extra, too.
"Do you have any questions?" she asked us.
My husband and I looked at one another, me more toward him as if there was something more that I didn't pick up on. He said no, I just turned back and shrugged. She smiled and said OK, good and I hope you feel better, then spun around and breezed out of the room.
"Wait, did she say anxiety?" I thought to myself. I looked up at the clock and turned to my husband.
"What a fresh, perky spring breeze of pleasantness just blew through here at twenty after nine on a Sunday morning!" I quipped. "Did you see how well applied her face was? She was so sweet."
"Anxiety. That can't be right." I thought to myself. "I've yogaed, gone through a MBSR course, continue a mindfulness practice at home, taken Zen meditation classes, study Buddhism. I've seen an energist, psychic, spiritual guru. I've gone on a Shamanistic soul retrieval for goodness sake. How can this be right?!"
Call it intuitive, or just knowing me perhaps better than I knew myself at this juncture in my life, my husband smiled anticipatingly and allowed pause for me to process. I looked over the list of resources. One by one counseling, counseling and more counseling. The clue phone was ringing off the hook for me. You know what, I answered the call.
"Bubba," I said. (that's one of many of my pet names for him) "I know there's a lot going on right now. I guess I just didn't realize until now how big it is for me ... I'm aging, sure. That is a given. My mom is dying of cancer. Some guys run out and buy expensive Porches. I get sick for two years. Welcome to my midlife crisis."
And there it was, as plain and simple as the Midwest. My eyes welled with tears. I knew what a gift my husband had just given me for the holidays. It was terribly wrapped, and there is a strict no return policy. Yet is the most priceless and admirable thing another human being has done for me.
For so many weeks and months my husband has mentioned that ugly, dreaded word; anxiety. This always left me feeling like he thought I was going crazy, making this whole chronic illness thing up, that it was all just in my head. I'm medically hypothyroid and have chronic inflammation, one cannot just imagine that, can they?
If I step back and take a good, long look at the bigger picture, perhaps even being hypothyroid is just a component of being on a life path that clearly was not sustainable. My reality is altered, paradigm is shifting. Eureka! This really does explain a lot.
Bubba reached over, grabbed a hold of my hand a rubbed it. As comforting as that was, I've just been hammered with a huge dose of reality and a prescription for re-wiring my mind. I allowed the tears to stream down my face.
A while later the doctor returned, foremost asking if we had been paid a visit by the social worker. "You mean the fabulous fairy," I thought to myself. "Yes, she came by." I said.
And now for the shocking results of my ER urine, blood and x-ray labs (drum roll, please): Sore throat with some protein deficiency and a prescription for GERD (which I had already received from my GI doc). It was one of those moments where all I was really compelled to do was lay there and blink.
A little while later we were discharged and heading through the long hospital corridors to the car. I noticed all the peculiar modern artwork on the walls, some of it really disturbed me whereas previously I may have just somewhat noticed an object's presence. Now I think I'm really seeing things as they actually are. I'm capable of so much, and there are plenty of times I will want help. I get it.
As we were on the freeway home, I turned on the radio. I wanted to hear music as I happily watched the scenery go by. I turned on Sirius 70's on 7, and "Only Want to Be With You" was on. I took hold of my husband's hand as I gazed at him and smiled. In my head, however, are still those thoughts about what it's going to take as well as whether I'll get better. Of course, every thousand mile journey begins with a single step. For me, today, I feel like I took a giant leap. One cannot solve a problem if one doesn't acknowledge what the problem is.
Next thing I knew I was feeling lighter, my chest felt more open. The song "Alive Again" started playing. I sang along a little bit as I watched gleaming skyscrapers diminish into to towering port cranes diminish into low-rise warehouses, which bled into industrial wasteland and then timber enshrouded highway up our plateau toward home. The mood changed and so did songs. Finally "If You Don't Know Me By Now" aired, and all I could think about was how perfectly life unfolds. It's a matter of purely trusting and having faith you're going in the right direction. As a wise, beloved friend once told me, when you are on the right path, the doors of opportunity will open to assist your arrival. Isn't that the truth!
As we were nearing home, a couple things dawned on me. The first is I had best shoot a little text to my mom and let her know I'm OK and we'll be home soon. The next is to carefully consider what to share with she and Al when we get home.
"Bubba, I think it's best if we just tell them I'm being treated for GERD and have a protein deficiency," I said. "No good will come of telling them I've been unofficially diagnosed with stress induced anxiety. My mom would make it about her, she'd feel terrible and spiral."
He agreed and added perhaps we could politely ask to fill in the details at a later time.
"Bubba, with my Grandma we could just, you know, be with one another, gazing at one another lovingly, enjoying ourselves immensely without even having to converse, and it was like time could stand still." I recalled. "I keep thinking I might be able to find some of that magic in my mom, and I know that's an unrealistic expectation."
Again, he agreed, reiterating that's just not who she is anymore and I'm going to have to learn how to have a good relationship with her regardless. Of course I already know this, and it's one of the things that overwhelms me the most. I've been through the medical gauntlet with her these past six months as well as all of her emotions around victories and losses. I've been a coach, a guide, a parent, a problem solver. Heck, I've even been her Realtor, literally. All I want to do is continue being her son, and yet I know she deserves much more of me than that. I want to be a wonderful son and caregiver to her. So this starts with being a wonderful caregiver to myself.
As we rolled up to our home, I could see from the street my mom cross from the kitchen into the living room as if in anticipation of our arrival. Our place has huge windows, it's kind of a fishbowl. Anyway, she was in her white robe. The way she sat and was seated, she felt like my old mom again. It was sweet. My heart felt light.
My husband opened the door for me to walk in first. For a time I have been reluctant to be the first in the door and have to set the tone with people. So I paused for a brief moment, then proceeded confidently.
"You're home!" mom said. "You look so much better."
I immediately went to her and gave her a hug. "Thank you, I feel so much better."
"What did they say?"
At first I almost tabled the discussion entirely. Then I suddenly just felt more able, more free, to just say what was so. "They treated me for GERD, which I now have a prescription for, and told me that I'm protein deficient."
Both mom and Al seemed pleased it was nothing serious. In my mind, the seriousness is what lies ahead. It's a road I have yet to travel. I don't even know what to pack. Or maybe it's all the unpacking I'm going to be doing. Either way, I do get that this is big, at least for me. It's also good. It's a time for healing and preparing for whatever life has to dole out to me and especially to my mom.
A while later I scrolled through Facebook. I noticed I had some notifications. One of them was from my mom's cousin Karol who posted a comment on the Christmas photo I posted of my mom and I by our tree.
"Thank u brad for taking care of my sweet cousin patty!!! XOXO"
I liked her comment and posted a reply. "You know what, Karol, she's actually taking care of me." (with a winky face blowing heart kiss emoticon at the end)
As has been the case since I was 10 weeks old, my dear old mom is taking care of me yet again. This time as my profound teacher.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Finding the Silver Lining
No doubt this holiday season has taken a toll on my health. I spent Christmas at home, alone. OK, well not entirely alone. I had our dog Millie by my side. Certainly a better place to spend it than Christmas Eve in the ER ...
Here's a quick recap of events:
12/20: Had a reaction to a gluten free, organic grain snack bar I'm accustomed to eating. Began restricting my food consumption to things I am most comfortable with.
12/21: Had a reaction to a small amount of sauerkraut, and a subsequent reaction two hours later. The latter of the two verged on an asthmatic attack. Began a mostly bone broth diet. Even broth seemed to cause reactivity. Likely had about 380 calories for the day.
12/22: My acupuncturist administered a "reset" treatment, which I seemed to respond well to. I had several servings of bone broth throughout the day. Probably 400-600 calories total.
12/23: Continued my broth diet and added ground turkey. Had dinner at a friend's house and brought my own. Didn't realize she had cats, which I'm allergic to. The load may have done a number on my system. Called it a night early. On the way home I felt my throat reaction intensifying. Dosed a caplid full of liquid Benedryl. Minutes later my body seized up. It was as if my insides were in a vice grip that was being tightened fully shut. I lost most control over my hands. My body vibrated intensely inside. My breathing became very labored. It felt like I my body was being overtaken by some outside force and that I wasn't long for this life. I urgently told my husband to take me to the ER, which he did. After about an hour the symptoms subsided and things calmed. I was released just after midnight. Had probably only had about 500 calories or so for the day.
12/24: My insides burned much of the day. I had no appetite. Continued on a broth diet. Could barely stomach broth. Had a couple hundred calories for the day. Flew my penniless brother into town to surprise my mom. He hasn't seen her in two years and who knows if she'll make it to next Christmas. I think my brother has Asperger's. He's so out of touch with other humans and/or extremely lacking in awareness. I am repelled by his energy. We are very much oil and water.
12/25: Continued on the broth diet, added veggie broth, which wasn't going down as well as the chicken and turkey broths. Felt super fragile all day, nervous I may have an attack. My husband spent the day with his family. My mom, her partner and my brother spent the day with our family. I spent the day with our dog. Had 200-300 calories max. We had a beautiful night, bestowed some thoughtful gifts on my mom and her partner.
12/26: Today I was able to eat solid foods again for the first time in days. Still have probably only consumed about 500 calories or so. Started feeling better. My bestie and her fiance paid us a visit and stayed for dinner. Just as dinner was getting underway, I became intensely short of breath to the point of being light headed and couldn't speak. Long story short I was able to recover, thankfully sans rescue inhaler, and I did so in solitude. I was absent at the dinner table with my family and dearest friend.
It's not normal to just remove one's self from a social situation, especially one in which one is hosting. At the same time, when my body screams at me, it's telling me to seclude myself and find peace. I was compelled to send the following text to both my husband and my bestie, just to give them the 411 on what was so for me at the time:
"Had a breath shortness episode, pushed myself too hard. The humid air (from oven roasting all afternoon) was not helpful. Resting my lungs, including speech. Easier to be solitary than have the added pressure to engage. Thank you for understanding. Will be back out as soon as I feel more steady. Love you!"
The darkest times often inspire the brightest spirits to emerge. As I was sitting in bed, focusing on feeling OK with the situation, being guilt-free about having to abandon a dinner we were hosting as well as not owning any weirdness around the social awkwardness of this, I heard a knock at the door. Bestie poked her head in, wanted to know if I was alright. Even that gesture helps clear the air, so-to-speak.
Bestie told me it was really mellow at the dinner table, they're all just enjoying dinner and conversation. As a juxtaposition, in that moment especially, my mellow was by definition so much different. Just relax, breath steadily, don't speak, calm ... In no way is that conducive to being in the middle of a social gathering.
Incidentally, prior to the episode, I had been busy with last minute mood preparations for our dinner as well as my own special brew (chicken bone broth with shredded chicken breast, white rice and salt). Things such as candle lighting, flower cutting, conversing on the sofa with our guests, etc. All very usual things, typically. I almost think because I'm up and about, looking OK, acting OK that people just assume I am OK. For the most part I am. My reality last night is based on the roller coaster ride I've been on the past several weeks, and these recent flare ups, the last thing I really wanted to be doing is all these very usual things.
After Bestie returned to the dinner table, I continued to eat my very basic soup. It was actually really good. Sometimes the most simple foods are the most appetizing, especially in my current state. My chest still felt tight, a little warm/hot, my breathing was still pretty darn short and my pulse elevated. All this was too much so for my comfort. Of course these acute moments are a double-edged sword. On the one hand remaining calm is most beneficial. On the other hand, how can one ignore one's body when it's practically screaming bloody murder?! Fight or flight response just does what it does. I do firmly believe meditation practice, over time, can help reduce the ill effects of innate panic mode.
I sent a text to my energist to see if she could help clear these troubling symptoms. Call it psychosomatic or what you will, shortly thereafter I felt my chest tightness ease and my breaths become little by little deeper and deeper. While not fully resolved, it was much more near normalizing than I was wondering whether would be possible that quickly. Bare in mind, I am very unfamiliar with these sensations and symptoms. Sure I've grappled with a little shortness of breath here and there. These more intense episodes, especially occurring so close together, have me on edge.
One thing I am noticing through these two years of chronic illness, I could do a much better job of maintaining balance. At the same time I realize praising myself for the work I have done is essential. What I believe happens are these somewhat elliptical cycles where I'll be feeling better, so I'll do more. Then I'll do a little more, possible a little more on top of that. Suddenly my body screams at me and forces me to slow down. Then I'm back to baby steps toward getting steadily back up on my feet.
For days and days I had pushed myself to run as close to 100 percent as possible, even though I'm not firing on all cylinders. My God I've likely consumed as many calories in the past six days I've had nearly as many calories as I had been typically consuming in a single day, maintaining a weight of 150-160 lbs. I've yet to weigh in now, and I know I've lost more weight I really didn't have to lose. It's a vicious cycle, one that I'm becoming increasingly aware of, thankfully. It's stating the obvious; the first step in solving a problem is realizing there is one.
Yes, I'm 40, and I've had one practitioner, my endocrinologist, tell me these numerous, alarming symptoms are likely just happening because I'm aging. Really. A person doesn't go from feeling fine and normal one morning, to feeling like their system is shutting down for no reason later that same morning. That was my body's big alarm wake up call to me one Saturday while vacationing in Mexico on the 10th day of the 11th month of the 12th year. I'm intrigued by numerology and know very little about it. I'm curious to find out if there's any meaning there. I digress ...
Short circuiting is something I had never expected, and especially being so far from home made it that much more alarming! I've been battling to fully recover my health ever since, having spent countless hours and thousands upon thousands of dollars. I've been poked, tested, analyzed, cleared, retested, had a tube down my throat, awaited lab findings (most of which were inconclusive), quizzed, questioned, have had to repeat my story countless times. I've completely transformed my dietary lifestyle, juiced, supplemented, gave up drinking (which wasn't too challenging considering how much alcohol triggered symptoms), reduced my workload, taken up mindfulness practice, Buddhist meditation and the list goes on.
The most recent anything that may resemble an underlying, treatable cause is elevated titers for two pneumonia microorganisms that may be fiddling with my autoimmune system. The foreseeable plan is to combat these critters as soon as I am well and stable enough. Only time will tell.
While I realize I don't paint the rosiest of portraits about all this, because quite frankly it has been horribly agonizing and at times down right frightening, I realize there are so many wonderful things coming from this. Two of the most important lessons I'm learning are:
1) Self care is essential and is absolutely not the same as being self-centered.
2) Never apologize for having to care for your health. Instead, consider simply thanking people for their care and understanding.
Definitely the school of hard knocks. I would have preferred to have stayed in college much longer than endure all this. Maybe. Who knows. Certainly this experience has had a profound impact.
My bestie came back in to check on me before she and her fiance headed back to her folks'. She peeks her head in the door and says, "You're not masturbating, are you?" I was sitting on the bed with my legs crossed, leaning up against the headboard with my hands placed in diamond gesture on my lap under the covers. I said, "No, I'm meditating, see my hands are in a traditional Buddhist pose, which is sort of like masturbation only no penis is involved." She just said "oh." We were of course just being silly with one another per usual.
She sat on the bed and got really real with me. I could sense the concern in her demeanor and see the worry in her eyes. Of course she lets you know exactly where you stand, which is mostly great (except when you're on her shit list). She told me she knows how much the stress of my mom and her partner and most of all the cancer battle are taking on me. I'm of course also very aware of this. Layered on top of that is having a highly agitating person in the house, one who even gets under my most patient husband's skin. Of course I'm having my brother here solely for my mom, certainly not for me.
Bestie called me out on how heavy hearted I am right now, and it's true.While this is in my awareness, I am numb, or I was numb. To be honest, as much as I know she was coming from the most loving place possible, it gave me the sense she was unaware how much I am aware of all this. Additionally, and this may sound odd, I am guarded about what goes into my conscious, subconscious and body right now as I've received pretty clear signals about being more mindful all around. Had an emotional release with Bestie. We laughed together. We cried together. This is one of the most difficult times in my life. The fire is intense.
She continued on: "Honey, I'm real worried about you.What you're facing right now is huge, monumental. The best thing you can do for yourself is focus on self preservation. We all want you here with us, so whatever it takes just do what you need to do. There's nothing happening between now and the new year, and you already do so much. You have total carte blanche to just rest and recuperate."
For some reason, even though I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to go there, I went back to before the beginning when this illness started. The first place I revisit is my very dearest Grandma's passing. How during her final days she was mostly not lucid. A few days before her death, which occurred on my 38th birthday, I paid her one final visit while she was still incarnate to get complete with her. Oddly, I almost knew what to expect when I walked in the door. The moment our eyes met we both lit up and beamed brightly. She called to me by name, my name, and continued smiling with her whole face (mouth, cheeks, eyes, the works). My aunt was feeding her yogurt. It was a sweet moment between them as well.
When my aunt had finished feeding Grandma the yogurt, we switched places. I sat by her side and took her hand. I gazed into her loving eyes and told her how much I love her. Each time I spoke she lit up. She really didn't have words at this point, it was actually really amazing she was able to blurt out my name. I pointed out we were both wearing my favorite color orange. She smiled. told her I was getting married. She beamed with joy! I asked her if she would be there. She very clearly nodded with affirmation.
As I paraphrased this story for bestie (she's heard it before, probably several times), my eyes welled and I expressed how much I loved this woman. I also acknowledged I cannot help but think that her passing was more traumatizing for me than perhaps I realized. It was within four months the first signs and symptoms emerged, which started with chronic low back inflammation. One day it was just there and stayed there. I actually remember the exact date, August 8, 2012.
After retracing my steps to now, I needed a boost. Switching gears I shared with bestie about how very happy I am for, her relationship and their newborn baby to be. I acknowledged what a handsome gentleman her fiance is as well as how kind and loving he can be; that we all have our demons. Her eyes also welled with tears. She said they're working on it. I agreed they are on the right path to building a solid foundation for a lasting relationship.
It was in this moment I realized this being supportive is what lifts me. It's one of my most important love languages. I've always loved quality one on one time with my nearest and dearest as well as exchanging about the most intimate details of our lives. Yet during this flare up time just resting seems to be the best medicine. Yet here I sit and share some of the most intimate details of my life, I suppose also while spending quality time with myself. I do enjoy this, not nearly as much as being a light for others or drawing inspiration from others' light face-to-face.
As bestie was leaving she stuck her head back in the door to say, "Remember, self preservation!" I smiled and nodded. The thing is, I am so well aware of this. I've been proactive about it, had coaching sessions about it, drawn all kinds of boundaries with those around me, most especially my mom. That's the most difficult.
My mom only sees that I'm standing, walking and talking, so therefore I must be well. Now that the wheels have fallen off before her very eyes, I think she's starting to get it. Even so, it takes so much out of me to initiate and maintain boundaries with her.
For example, I could say, "Hey, mom, I know you have a lot of questions about where things are in the house or about your financial affairs. I only have so many words each day and only so much time. Can we block out a few hours each week to sit down together and go over things together?"
Her usual response is to huff and abruptly say OK as if she's just been reprimanded or as though I'm being unkind. In other words, she just doesn't get it. She cannot enter a situation and evaluate whether it's an opportune time to interject.
Yesterday during my first of two more alarming breath shortness episodes, I cleared the lunch I had just begun eating from the dining room table and made a beeline for my bedroom. My mom sees me approach and asks me to look over her meditation techniques sheet and new medication info. I had no breath to spare, literally. I continued moving by her, calmly. Even if she didn't react, I could sense her upset. Then again, it could be my own upset in being unable to tend to her in the way I feel would be most loving.
The flip side is this sense of a no-win situation. Having my mom and her "partner" here started off feeling really draining. The constant questions, needing things, so many things (like eight rolls of TP within the first five days). Them having to have things a certain way. Being as accommodating as possible. Moving out of our room. Rearranging our storage and housing their belongings. Busting our asses to make things comfortable for them, and that still not being enough, mostly for my mom. Suddenly, everything I've pushed myself to achieve feels like nothing more than a life-draining failure. What am I supposed to do, NOT welcome my mom into my home?
After bestie left I felt my nasal sinuses had swelled. Perfectly normal, just wasn't sure how much this was going to aid in me recovering from breath shortness. My lungs felt a little more inflamed as well. The heavy-hearted feeling she declared I suffered, yep, it was there. This hollow heaviness in my chest I was well aware of and yet felt completely disconnected from and nearly powerless to release. So a short while later I followed her visit up with a text:
"Thank you for being my touchstone. We're surely soulmates, and I already know how much you know what an amazing comfort that is. To have someone who undoubtedly always wants what's best for you. I love you so much! Your light brightens the darkest of my nights. Thank you."
To which she replied:
"What a wonderful text. You mean the world to me and I will always be here for you. Hell or high water. Hang in there!! You will get through this. Self preservation!"
I had more to express:
"Cannot tell you how much it meant for us to connect tonight in the way we did. Though the circumstance be what it was, those were undoubtedly such magic moments. Holiday Treasure! Also, you get me in a way so many others simply don't. Because of you I always have the truest sense of companionship. Self preservation. AMEN - I just realized how sexist the word amen is."
She replied:
"I agree, very magical. I felt greedy having you all to myself but thought 'I'm not going to apologize for it in the way I'm asking him not to apologize for his heath.' Bestie presrvation! We will always have each other and I'm so lucky and thankful!"
I replied once more:
"Pssst ... You made it feel like Christmas! On top of that, thank you so much for your beautiful and thoughtful gifts."
She replied once more:
"You are so welcome. I really enjoyed tonight. True holiday spirit is taking time w/the ones you love."
There it is, one of my many silver linings, having beautiful, supportive people in my life who I love and who love me. Touching lives and allowing mine to be touched as well. I believe that is the true spirit of the holidays. Everyday can be a holiday when we surround ourselves with people who lift us.
Incidentally, I had a couple "ah ha" moments in the kitchen this afternoon. It has become increasingly clear in the last day I only have so much wherewithall. In fact, even after nourishing myself better today, I'm finding I'm having to conserve my breath and overall energy more so that ever previously. As such, at times I've been focusing on noticing and letting go of tension wherever I'm feeling it in my body and/or mind. I've been moving much more slowly, which is totally counter to the high speed/high efficiency personality I've cultivated. Hmmm ... maybe I ought not to have gone on that summer exchange to Germany.
In noticing this, how I've literally, physically had to slow down, I'm becoming more empathetic to my mom's "partner." He moves like a glacier. And he always seems to want to stand right in my path, especially in the kitchen. Rest assured there's a very clear theme here; patience. The man is 76 and starting to lose his marbles, which has likely progressed with the stress around my mom's cancer. Clearly he would love to be move nimble. He is doing the very best he can, and I could do much better in the patience department. I'm just a little lost finding it, and it's not like GPS can guide me there.
Spirit can. I see what a bright, cheerful spirit my husband is for them. How he perks up when addressing them, especially first thing in the morning. Funny thing is, I recall a time in my life when I awoke each day with oodles of energy, gusto and joy. Guess that's what a time most of us call our twenties. I am still optimistic I can connect with that side of myself again. Here I go again applying unneeded pressure. Though I see no harm in wishful thinking.
Going back to what my acupuncturist shared with me about the darkness. The only thing that can protect us while we're in it is to love.
Here's a quick recap of events:
12/20: Had a reaction to a gluten free, organic grain snack bar I'm accustomed to eating. Began restricting my food consumption to things I am most comfortable with.
12/21: Had a reaction to a small amount of sauerkraut, and a subsequent reaction two hours later. The latter of the two verged on an asthmatic attack. Began a mostly bone broth diet. Even broth seemed to cause reactivity. Likely had about 380 calories for the day.
12/22: My acupuncturist administered a "reset" treatment, which I seemed to respond well to. I had several servings of bone broth throughout the day. Probably 400-600 calories total.
12/23: Continued my broth diet and added ground turkey. Had dinner at a friend's house and brought my own. Didn't realize she had cats, which I'm allergic to. The load may have done a number on my system. Called it a night early. On the way home I felt my throat reaction intensifying. Dosed a caplid full of liquid Benedryl. Minutes later my body seized up. It was as if my insides were in a vice grip that was being tightened fully shut. I lost most control over my hands. My body vibrated intensely inside. My breathing became very labored. It felt like I my body was being overtaken by some outside force and that I wasn't long for this life. I urgently told my husband to take me to the ER, which he did. After about an hour the symptoms subsided and things calmed. I was released just after midnight. Had probably only had about 500 calories or so for the day.
12/24: My insides burned much of the day. I had no appetite. Continued on a broth diet. Could barely stomach broth. Had a couple hundred calories for the day. Flew my penniless brother into town to surprise my mom. He hasn't seen her in two years and who knows if she'll make it to next Christmas. I think my brother has Asperger's. He's so out of touch with other humans and/or extremely lacking in awareness. I am repelled by his energy. We are very much oil and water.
12/25: Continued on the broth diet, added veggie broth, which wasn't going down as well as the chicken and turkey broths. Felt super fragile all day, nervous I may have an attack. My husband spent the day with his family. My mom, her partner and my brother spent the day with our family. I spent the day with our dog. Had 200-300 calories max. We had a beautiful night, bestowed some thoughtful gifts on my mom and her partner.
12/26: Today I was able to eat solid foods again for the first time in days. Still have probably only consumed about 500 calories or so. Started feeling better. My bestie and her fiance paid us a visit and stayed for dinner. Just as dinner was getting underway, I became intensely short of breath to the point of being light headed and couldn't speak. Long story short I was able to recover, thankfully sans rescue inhaler, and I did so in solitude. I was absent at the dinner table with my family and dearest friend.
It's not normal to just remove one's self from a social situation, especially one in which one is hosting. At the same time, when my body screams at me, it's telling me to seclude myself and find peace. I was compelled to send the following text to both my husband and my bestie, just to give them the 411 on what was so for me at the time:
"Had a breath shortness episode, pushed myself too hard. The humid air (from oven roasting all afternoon) was not helpful. Resting my lungs, including speech. Easier to be solitary than have the added pressure to engage. Thank you for understanding. Will be back out as soon as I feel more steady. Love you!"
The darkest times often inspire the brightest spirits to emerge. As I was sitting in bed, focusing on feeling OK with the situation, being guilt-free about having to abandon a dinner we were hosting as well as not owning any weirdness around the social awkwardness of this, I heard a knock at the door. Bestie poked her head in, wanted to know if I was alright. Even that gesture helps clear the air, so-to-speak.
Bestie told me it was really mellow at the dinner table, they're all just enjoying dinner and conversation. As a juxtaposition, in that moment especially, my mellow was by definition so much different. Just relax, breath steadily, don't speak, calm ... In no way is that conducive to being in the middle of a social gathering.
Incidentally, prior to the episode, I had been busy with last minute mood preparations for our dinner as well as my own special brew (chicken bone broth with shredded chicken breast, white rice and salt). Things such as candle lighting, flower cutting, conversing on the sofa with our guests, etc. All very usual things, typically. I almost think because I'm up and about, looking OK, acting OK that people just assume I am OK. For the most part I am. My reality last night is based on the roller coaster ride I've been on the past several weeks, and these recent flare ups, the last thing I really wanted to be doing is all these very usual things.
After Bestie returned to the dinner table, I continued to eat my very basic soup. It was actually really good. Sometimes the most simple foods are the most appetizing, especially in my current state. My chest still felt tight, a little warm/hot, my breathing was still pretty darn short and my pulse elevated. All this was too much so for my comfort. Of course these acute moments are a double-edged sword. On the one hand remaining calm is most beneficial. On the other hand, how can one ignore one's body when it's practically screaming bloody murder?! Fight or flight response just does what it does. I do firmly believe meditation practice, over time, can help reduce the ill effects of innate panic mode.
I sent a text to my energist to see if she could help clear these troubling symptoms. Call it psychosomatic or what you will, shortly thereafter I felt my chest tightness ease and my breaths become little by little deeper and deeper. While not fully resolved, it was much more near normalizing than I was wondering whether would be possible that quickly. Bare in mind, I am very unfamiliar with these sensations and symptoms. Sure I've grappled with a little shortness of breath here and there. These more intense episodes, especially occurring so close together, have me on edge.
One thing I am noticing through these two years of chronic illness, I could do a much better job of maintaining balance. At the same time I realize praising myself for the work I have done is essential. What I believe happens are these somewhat elliptical cycles where I'll be feeling better, so I'll do more. Then I'll do a little more, possible a little more on top of that. Suddenly my body screams at me and forces me to slow down. Then I'm back to baby steps toward getting steadily back up on my feet.
For days and days I had pushed myself to run as close to 100 percent as possible, even though I'm not firing on all cylinders. My God I've likely consumed as many calories in the past six days I've had nearly as many calories as I had been typically consuming in a single day, maintaining a weight of 150-160 lbs. I've yet to weigh in now, and I know I've lost more weight I really didn't have to lose. It's a vicious cycle, one that I'm becoming increasingly aware of, thankfully. It's stating the obvious; the first step in solving a problem is realizing there is one.
Yes, I'm 40, and I've had one practitioner, my endocrinologist, tell me these numerous, alarming symptoms are likely just happening because I'm aging. Really. A person doesn't go from feeling fine and normal one morning, to feeling like their system is shutting down for no reason later that same morning. That was my body's big alarm wake up call to me one Saturday while vacationing in Mexico on the 10th day of the 11th month of the 12th year. I'm intrigued by numerology and know very little about it. I'm curious to find out if there's any meaning there. I digress ...
Short circuiting is something I had never expected, and especially being so far from home made it that much more alarming! I've been battling to fully recover my health ever since, having spent countless hours and thousands upon thousands of dollars. I've been poked, tested, analyzed, cleared, retested, had a tube down my throat, awaited lab findings (most of which were inconclusive), quizzed, questioned, have had to repeat my story countless times. I've completely transformed my dietary lifestyle, juiced, supplemented, gave up drinking (which wasn't too challenging considering how much alcohol triggered symptoms), reduced my workload, taken up mindfulness practice, Buddhist meditation and the list goes on.
The most recent anything that may resemble an underlying, treatable cause is elevated titers for two pneumonia microorganisms that may be fiddling with my autoimmune system. The foreseeable plan is to combat these critters as soon as I am well and stable enough. Only time will tell.
While I realize I don't paint the rosiest of portraits about all this, because quite frankly it has been horribly agonizing and at times down right frightening, I realize there are so many wonderful things coming from this. Two of the most important lessons I'm learning are:
1) Self care is essential and is absolutely not the same as being self-centered.
2) Never apologize for having to care for your health. Instead, consider simply thanking people for their care and understanding.
Definitely the school of hard knocks. I would have preferred to have stayed in college much longer than endure all this. Maybe. Who knows. Certainly this experience has had a profound impact.
My bestie came back in to check on me before she and her fiance headed back to her folks'. She peeks her head in the door and says, "You're not masturbating, are you?" I was sitting on the bed with my legs crossed, leaning up against the headboard with my hands placed in diamond gesture on my lap under the covers. I said, "No, I'm meditating, see my hands are in a traditional Buddhist pose, which is sort of like masturbation only no penis is involved." She just said "oh." We were of course just being silly with one another per usual.
She sat on the bed and got really real with me. I could sense the concern in her demeanor and see the worry in her eyes. Of course she lets you know exactly where you stand, which is mostly great (except when you're on her shit list). She told me she knows how much the stress of my mom and her partner and most of all the cancer battle are taking on me. I'm of course also very aware of this. Layered on top of that is having a highly agitating person in the house, one who even gets under my most patient husband's skin. Of course I'm having my brother here solely for my mom, certainly not for me.
Bestie called me out on how heavy hearted I am right now, and it's true.While this is in my awareness, I am numb, or I was numb. To be honest, as much as I know she was coming from the most loving place possible, it gave me the sense she was unaware how much I am aware of all this. Additionally, and this may sound odd, I am guarded about what goes into my conscious, subconscious and body right now as I've received pretty clear signals about being more mindful all around. Had an emotional release with Bestie. We laughed together. We cried together. This is one of the most difficult times in my life. The fire is intense.
She continued on: "Honey, I'm real worried about you.What you're facing right now is huge, monumental. The best thing you can do for yourself is focus on self preservation. We all want you here with us, so whatever it takes just do what you need to do. There's nothing happening between now and the new year, and you already do so much. You have total carte blanche to just rest and recuperate."
For some reason, even though I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to go there, I went back to before the beginning when this illness started. The first place I revisit is my very dearest Grandma's passing. How during her final days she was mostly not lucid. A few days before her death, which occurred on my 38th birthday, I paid her one final visit while she was still incarnate to get complete with her. Oddly, I almost knew what to expect when I walked in the door. The moment our eyes met we both lit up and beamed brightly. She called to me by name, my name, and continued smiling with her whole face (mouth, cheeks, eyes, the works). My aunt was feeding her yogurt. It was a sweet moment between them as well.
When my aunt had finished feeding Grandma the yogurt, we switched places. I sat by her side and took her hand. I gazed into her loving eyes and told her how much I love her. Each time I spoke she lit up. She really didn't have words at this point, it was actually really amazing she was able to blurt out my name. I pointed out we were both wearing my favorite color orange. She smiled. told her I was getting married. She beamed with joy! I asked her if she would be there. She very clearly nodded with affirmation.
As I paraphrased this story for bestie (she's heard it before, probably several times), my eyes welled and I expressed how much I loved this woman. I also acknowledged I cannot help but think that her passing was more traumatizing for me than perhaps I realized. It was within four months the first signs and symptoms emerged, which started with chronic low back inflammation. One day it was just there and stayed there. I actually remember the exact date, August 8, 2012.
After retracing my steps to now, I needed a boost. Switching gears I shared with bestie about how very happy I am for, her relationship and their newborn baby to be. I acknowledged what a handsome gentleman her fiance is as well as how kind and loving he can be; that we all have our demons. Her eyes also welled with tears. She said they're working on it. I agreed they are on the right path to building a solid foundation for a lasting relationship.
It was in this moment I realized this being supportive is what lifts me. It's one of my most important love languages. I've always loved quality one on one time with my nearest and dearest as well as exchanging about the most intimate details of our lives. Yet during this flare up time just resting seems to be the best medicine. Yet here I sit and share some of the most intimate details of my life, I suppose also while spending quality time with myself. I do enjoy this, not nearly as much as being a light for others or drawing inspiration from others' light face-to-face.
As bestie was leaving she stuck her head back in the door to say, "Remember, self preservation!" I smiled and nodded. The thing is, I am so well aware of this. I've been proactive about it, had coaching sessions about it, drawn all kinds of boundaries with those around me, most especially my mom. That's the most difficult.
My mom only sees that I'm standing, walking and talking, so therefore I must be well. Now that the wheels have fallen off before her very eyes, I think she's starting to get it. Even so, it takes so much out of me to initiate and maintain boundaries with her.
For example, I could say, "Hey, mom, I know you have a lot of questions about where things are in the house or about your financial affairs. I only have so many words each day and only so much time. Can we block out a few hours each week to sit down together and go over things together?"
Her usual response is to huff and abruptly say OK as if she's just been reprimanded or as though I'm being unkind. In other words, she just doesn't get it. She cannot enter a situation and evaluate whether it's an opportune time to interject.
Yesterday during my first of two more alarming breath shortness episodes, I cleared the lunch I had just begun eating from the dining room table and made a beeline for my bedroom. My mom sees me approach and asks me to look over her meditation techniques sheet and new medication info. I had no breath to spare, literally. I continued moving by her, calmly. Even if she didn't react, I could sense her upset. Then again, it could be my own upset in being unable to tend to her in the way I feel would be most loving.
The flip side is this sense of a no-win situation. Having my mom and her "partner" here started off feeling really draining. The constant questions, needing things, so many things (like eight rolls of TP within the first five days). Them having to have things a certain way. Being as accommodating as possible. Moving out of our room. Rearranging our storage and housing their belongings. Busting our asses to make things comfortable for them, and that still not being enough, mostly for my mom. Suddenly, everything I've pushed myself to achieve feels like nothing more than a life-draining failure. What am I supposed to do, NOT welcome my mom into my home?
After bestie left I felt my nasal sinuses had swelled. Perfectly normal, just wasn't sure how much this was going to aid in me recovering from breath shortness. My lungs felt a little more inflamed as well. The heavy-hearted feeling she declared I suffered, yep, it was there. This hollow heaviness in my chest I was well aware of and yet felt completely disconnected from and nearly powerless to release. So a short while later I followed her visit up with a text:
"Thank you for being my touchstone. We're surely soulmates, and I already know how much you know what an amazing comfort that is. To have someone who undoubtedly always wants what's best for you. I love you so much! Your light brightens the darkest of my nights. Thank you."
To which she replied:
"What a wonderful text. You mean the world to me and I will always be here for you. Hell or high water. Hang in there!! You will get through this. Self preservation!"
I had more to express:
"Cannot tell you how much it meant for us to connect tonight in the way we did. Though the circumstance be what it was, those were undoubtedly such magic moments. Holiday Treasure! Also, you get me in a way so many others simply don't. Because of you I always have the truest sense of companionship. Self preservation. AMEN - I just realized how sexist the word amen is."
She replied:
"I agree, very magical. I felt greedy having you all to myself but thought 'I'm not going to apologize for it in the way I'm asking him not to apologize for his heath.' Bestie presrvation! We will always have each other and I'm so lucky and thankful!"
I replied once more:
"Pssst ... You made it feel like Christmas! On top of that, thank you so much for your beautiful and thoughtful gifts."
She replied once more:
"You are so welcome. I really enjoyed tonight. True holiday spirit is taking time w/the ones you love."
There it is, one of my many silver linings, having beautiful, supportive people in my life who I love and who love me. Touching lives and allowing mine to be touched as well. I believe that is the true spirit of the holidays. Everyday can be a holiday when we surround ourselves with people who lift us.
Incidentally, I had a couple "ah ha" moments in the kitchen this afternoon. It has become increasingly clear in the last day I only have so much wherewithall. In fact, even after nourishing myself better today, I'm finding I'm having to conserve my breath and overall energy more so that ever previously. As such, at times I've been focusing on noticing and letting go of tension wherever I'm feeling it in my body and/or mind. I've been moving much more slowly, which is totally counter to the high speed/high efficiency personality I've cultivated. Hmmm ... maybe I ought not to have gone on that summer exchange to Germany.
In noticing this, how I've literally, physically had to slow down, I'm becoming more empathetic to my mom's "partner." He moves like a glacier. And he always seems to want to stand right in my path, especially in the kitchen. Rest assured there's a very clear theme here; patience. The man is 76 and starting to lose his marbles, which has likely progressed with the stress around my mom's cancer. Clearly he would love to be move nimble. He is doing the very best he can, and I could do much better in the patience department. I'm just a little lost finding it, and it's not like GPS can guide me there.
Spirit can. I see what a bright, cheerful spirit my husband is for them. How he perks up when addressing them, especially first thing in the morning. Funny thing is, I recall a time in my life when I awoke each day with oodles of energy, gusto and joy. Guess that's what a time most of us call our twenties. I am still optimistic I can connect with that side of myself again. Here I go again applying unneeded pressure. Though I see no harm in wishful thinking.
Going back to what my acupuncturist shared with me about the darkness. The only thing that can protect us while we're in it is to love.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Merry Christmas from Mom!
 |
| My mom wrote this to all her loved ones, I gave it a glance over, my husband made it into a pretty, embeddable format and I sent it out to mom's list Christmas Eve night. |
Monday, December 22, 2014
Darkness Reveals the Light
This has been one hell of a week! My mom went on another roller coaster ride in her stage IV lung cancer battle. Subsequently my health took yet another backslide. Last night and this morning I could barely get down broth let alone water. I'm quickly realizing I've never been more challenged in my life than I am now. This time is a personal Everest.
My mom and I had a few moments to visit just the two of us on the sofa last night, the darkest night of the year. We sat in opposing corners of the sectional, both of us feeling lousy. Her lousy on account of an intentional fast for some medical procedures today. My lousy on account of an unintentional fast as my digestive system went completely out of whack. I could bore you with the details, what's the point?
So here we are, quite a sick mom and son pair. It was one of those times I had more than half expected my mom to be kind of cranky and self deprecating. What she said next surprised me:
"I am so in awe-I just cannot believe how many people I've touched; how many people have poured their love out to me," she said.
It was such a beautiful, pure moment of gratitude. This from the woman who struggled finding something to be grateful for at the Thanksgiving table as we all took turns acknowledging our blessings.
"Well, of course, mom!" I said. "Of course so many people love you. You have always been so loving and kind."
Today while browsing through Facebook, I ran across a few posts dealing with this subject:
1.) As you waste your breath complaining about life, someone out there is breathing their last. Appreciate what you have. Be thankful and stop complaining. Have more smiles, less stress.
2.) "I would rather be ashes than dust. I would rather my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." - Jack London
3.) "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people." - Carl Jung
I posted a comment on the last of these posts: "Or in darkness is often when we discover our own light."
Regarding my recent backslide that really took me down, two of my practitioners had similar opinions about the underlying cause. My energist opined I was picking up something. "It's not yours," she said. "It's from the earth." I interpret that to mean some type of energy the earth was dealing with. Incidentally yesterday was the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year. After my acupuncturist worked on me today, he opined it was as if I was hit with big blast of negative energy which threw everything out of whack. The way my acupuncturist meant his remarks had more to do with stress and putting out negative vibes. I asked him what the best way is to combat the negative forces. He said just simply to love.
Interestingly enough, I was already on the case when I began to feel better today. It started Saturday with some information that really framed things for me with regard to my mom and life in general. Our sister-in-law, the oncology nurse who connected us with the very best oncologist, she mentioned she was surprised my mom is still going strong. Apparently in her experience most patience with stage four lung cancer don't make it to six months. This was sobering.
This morning, when my mom finally came out into the living room as she was preparing for another long day at SCCA, and even though my body was feeling completely entangled, I sprang up, walked over to her and gave her a big, lingering hug. This may seem elementary. As a caregiver I did not apply for this job, nor was I intentionally asked to fill it. I've not been given any clever instruction on how to be or what to expect. I've just bumped along, bruised and banged up by my mom's anxiety as much so as her previous poor life choices.
I recently reconnected with a long time friend of mine via Facebook who I hadn't been in contact with for about a decade. This gal was always such a kick in the pants. I wasn't ever sure if our connection ran that deep. That was until she recalled how close I had always been with my mom, how she remembered me being excited to spend time with her when all the rest of our friends, herself included, hated their parents. She said she really admired me for this. Yes, it is truly amazing how we touch people's lives.
Today it became even more apparent each one is a sacred gift. It also dawned on me how much it would mean for my mom to see my slacker brother and for him to see her. I ran it by my hubby, who has a very low patience threshold for my brother, and he agreed. So we bought him a ticket to be here with us for Christmas. My mom knows nothing about it, we're going to surprise her.
As a result of this gift to my mom, and come to find out subsequently to my brother, he expressed sincere gratitude the likes of which I have not known from him before. He says this will be the best Christmas he has had in years. Humbled he is as are we all by this miraculous thing we call life.
My mom and I had a few moments to visit just the two of us on the sofa last night, the darkest night of the year. We sat in opposing corners of the sectional, both of us feeling lousy. Her lousy on account of an intentional fast for some medical procedures today. My lousy on account of an unintentional fast as my digestive system went completely out of whack. I could bore you with the details, what's the point?
So here we are, quite a sick mom and son pair. It was one of those times I had more than half expected my mom to be kind of cranky and self deprecating. What she said next surprised me:
"I am so in awe-I just cannot believe how many people I've touched; how many people have poured their love out to me," she said.
It was such a beautiful, pure moment of gratitude. This from the woman who struggled finding something to be grateful for at the Thanksgiving table as we all took turns acknowledging our blessings.
"Well, of course, mom!" I said. "Of course so many people love you. You have always been so loving and kind."
Today while browsing through Facebook, I ran across a few posts dealing with this subject:
1.) As you waste your breath complaining about life, someone out there is breathing their last. Appreciate what you have. Be thankful and stop complaining. Have more smiles, less stress.
2.) "I would rather be ashes than dust. I would rather my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." - Jack London
3.) "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people." - Carl Jung
I posted a comment on the last of these posts: "Or in darkness is often when we discover our own light."
Regarding my recent backslide that really took me down, two of my practitioners had similar opinions about the underlying cause. My energist opined I was picking up something. "It's not yours," she said. "It's from the earth." I interpret that to mean some type of energy the earth was dealing with. Incidentally yesterday was the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year. After my acupuncturist worked on me today, he opined it was as if I was hit with big blast of negative energy which threw everything out of whack. The way my acupuncturist meant his remarks had more to do with stress and putting out negative vibes. I asked him what the best way is to combat the negative forces. He said just simply to love.
Interestingly enough, I was already on the case when I began to feel better today. It started Saturday with some information that really framed things for me with regard to my mom and life in general. Our sister-in-law, the oncology nurse who connected us with the very best oncologist, she mentioned she was surprised my mom is still going strong. Apparently in her experience most patience with stage four lung cancer don't make it to six months. This was sobering.
This morning, when my mom finally came out into the living room as she was preparing for another long day at SCCA, and even though my body was feeling completely entangled, I sprang up, walked over to her and gave her a big, lingering hug. This may seem elementary. As a caregiver I did not apply for this job, nor was I intentionally asked to fill it. I've not been given any clever instruction on how to be or what to expect. I've just bumped along, bruised and banged up by my mom's anxiety as much so as her previous poor life choices.
I recently reconnected with a long time friend of mine via Facebook who I hadn't been in contact with for about a decade. This gal was always such a kick in the pants. I wasn't ever sure if our connection ran that deep. That was until she recalled how close I had always been with my mom, how she remembered me being excited to spend time with her when all the rest of our friends, herself included, hated their parents. She said she really admired me for this. Yes, it is truly amazing how we touch people's lives.
Today it became even more apparent each one is a sacred gift. It also dawned on me how much it would mean for my mom to see my slacker brother and for him to see her. I ran it by my hubby, who has a very low patience threshold for my brother, and he agreed. So we bought him a ticket to be here with us for Christmas. My mom knows nothing about it, we're going to surprise her.
As a result of this gift to my mom, and come to find out subsequently to my brother, he expressed sincere gratitude the likes of which I have not known from him before. He says this will be the best Christmas he has had in years. Humbled he is as are we all by this miraculous thing we call life.
Update on Mom Dec. 22nd
Hello, All,
It’s been about a month since my
last update and certainly time for another. Foremost, thanks to those who have
been so supportive of my mom and her caregivers. This journey has been a
personal Everest.
Last night mom shared with me
how much in awe she is that she has touched as many lives as she has for all
the love she is receiving from so many. Isn’t that what life is all about? Hers
has certainly been charmed and one very well lived in that department.
My heart is a little heavy as I
continue to write this. We’ve had a very challenging week. Mom went in for her
follow up oncology consult on Wednesday. Based on her blood labs she had become
anemic. She ended up being at SCCA from 8 AM until after 9 PM that day, and
from 2 PM until after 9 PM Thursday for more lab work and infusions. She had to
return again Friday and was at the center from 8 AM to just after noon. Today
she is having two GI procedures done and has had to follow a preparatory
fasting schedule for the past few days, which to me seems counter intuitive as
she’s been so focused on maintaining a healthy weight.
Friday her oncologist opined
while her current treatment is working, it is not working as effectively as he
would like to see. New scans have indicated possibly some slight growth of the
tumors. Thus Dr. Martins thinks this treatment may have run its course. You can
imagine how discouraging this news has been to my mom and those closest to her.
Dr. Martins offered two other
treatment options. The first being conventional chemotherapy. The other is a
trial cancer-fighting drug that has shown a lot of promise in effectively treating
this disease both in breast and lung cancer patients.
Like the first drug, the one mom
is currently taking daily, this clinical trial requires a certain genetic
mutation in the tumor to be present. There is a 50/50 chance it is. We
anticipate receiving test results in the coming week. It’s the anticipation of
such results that really gets to my mom, understandably. Likely not how she
anticipated starting off the holidays.
Despite the recent ups and
downs, my mom is doing remarkably well. Her energy is good. She feels better,
especially since the infusions. As soon as she has recovered from today’s
procedures, we’ll get right to work again on her nutrition. I still see quite a
lot of determination in her, which is excellent.
We are also much closer to
having her and Al settled here in their own place. Her Coeur d’Alene home sold
quickly, and we’re anticipating an early January closing on it. I was also able
to find them an ideal place about 10 minutes from Terry and I in a lovely 55+
community near the shores of Puget Sound. We’re aiming to close the purchase
just ahead of her sale so we only have to have the movers out once. Both she
and Al are very excited about this community as well as having a new place to
call home close to relatives and loved ones. This prospect has really helped
lift mom’s spirits, Al’s too, giving them something to look forward to and be
excited about.
Again, we appreciate so much
being in your wonderful thoughts and prayers. I am optimistic we’ll have many
better days on the horizon, and I look forward to sharing them with you soon.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Turning Over a New Leaf
I'm forgiving myself for my series of previous, negative posts. At the same time I have to acknowledge that's how I was feeling at the time I wrote them. Sometimes we all ask too much of ourselves. When we do, our egos get bruised and influence resentment.
My recent food reaction and health backslide I understood as my body's way of telling me I have to slow down. I've noticed a pattern of flare ups occurring during times of excitement, whether the experience is positive or negative. Of course I've also been dealing with quite a bit of stressful stimuli in recent weeks. Certainly stress has an adverse impact on a person's health, unless one just isn't human.
The night before my one year anniversary, my mom first confided in my bestie. Following their talk, my mom and I had a good heart-to-heart. In fact, this helped me realize how much less I converse now compared to the social butterfly I was previous to the chronic illness. I've become much more introspective and introverted. I'm OK with that. Yet I can see how this can be problematic for others, especially my mom who occurs for me as requiring much more reassurance, especially now that she's aware of living with cancer.
During our talk, my mom expressed to me she enjoys doing things for Al, that it's not a burden on her. I had an opportunity to express my concerns about how I fear the lack of balance in her and Al's dealings together could weigh too heavily on her, further jeopardizing her health. This time I think my mom heard and realized my concern is out of my caring for her. I was also clear she and Al need to exhaust all their resources before they get additional financial support from their family. This tax burden Al has been avoiding for the past 10 or more years is beyond ridiculous. As well, if this is also how he's handling his aging and declining health, this isn't helping my mom either. I am still very clear about my concern being for my mom's well being.
Even if my care and concern is for my mom and not necessarily for Al, I also realize I have to play nice to alleviate further conflict and keep the peace. Sure, the guy is a total tool. If I can find common ground it is that we both love my mom dearly, and at times we both have a contradictory way of showing it.
I'm really concerned about my mom's nutrition or lack thereof. She's so thin. She's also recently started losing her hair. If there's anything to know about my mom, she is very particular about her hair. If the hair loss is a side effect of her cancer treatment, she would rather be saddled on the sofa with nausea as the day is long than have her hair look less than its best. She spends literally hours on it everyday. It takes her at least three hours to get herself together in the morning. That's no exaggeration.
Realizing it may be beneficial to light a proverbial fire under her butt about her nutrition, I opined it's highly probable her hair loss could be a result of malnourishment. She then asks what she's supposed to be eating. I simply said, "More." Not to mention, I put together a list and details of foods that she likes and are really healthy. She hasn't really taken it to heart. She met with a nutritionist. I'm not sure she has taken that to heart, either. I will say after I connected the dots between her hair loss and diet, she ate a really big breakfast. Whatever it takes for her to maintain a healthy weight.
Then there's my own struggle with maintaining a healthy weight pared with my ability to consume foods that agree with my system. My diet had become more varied to a point. I had been habitually eating an egg with breakfast. That may be too repetitive, just felt it important to have the protein and fat to start the day. My bestie and my hubby have both been riding me about being too slender. I'm not yet concerned about how I look when I see my reflection. In fact, I have some nicely defined muscle tone. Yes, I've shed a lot of weight, at least 40 lbs. from my heaviest (which was way too heavy). I've been maintaining within 5-10 lbs. for the past year or so.
I went to see my energist yesterday. For anyone who may think this completely flaky or "woo woo," you're right. For anyone who may be open enough to comprehend the potential benefits of this work, you're right. Here's what I want to share with you about some of the work we did yesterday.
My energist got to the heart of a couple matters by asking me a series of questions.
Regarding my reaction the day before, she asked, "Is the thought or feeling you had during that experience more loving or fearful?"
Of course I said fearful.
"Is the though or feeling you had more cooperative or competitive?" she asked.
I went back to that moment when I went to inhale and was unable to complete a swallow therefore unable to get air. It lasted a mere moment. Even so, it was enough of a shock to my system to sound the alarms and trigger additional thoughts like what if this gets worse ... "Competitive."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more compassionate or judgmental?" she asked.
"Judgmental."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more safe or unsafe?" she asked.
"Unsafe."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more simple or complicated?"
I pondered for a moment ... "Simple."
"Mmmm, I get complicated," she said.
I pondered for another moment or two about all the directions my mind darted seemingly simultaneously. Here I am, sitting in a dark cinema with my husband, trying to enjoy a movie while my throat feels like it's possibly closing up. So it's a choose your own adventure. There's the part of me that wants to remain calm and try to focus on the movie because I want to appease my husband. Then there's the other part of me that just wants to be home in bed, surrendering to not being in optimal health. Then there's the other part of me that is telling me I need medical attention, otherwise chancing it could be fatal. How could I not be torn in that moment with each of those thoughts being so real to me?
"Yeh, I can see how the feeling was complicated." I agreed.
"Did the thought or feeling you had give you more faith or doubt?"
"Doubt." I said without a moment's hesitation.
"Is the thought or feeling you had more forgiving or resentful?"
Hmmm ... another one I had to ponder for a moment. Well the fact that I had wanted to appease my husband by suffering is certainly not compassionate toward nor forgiving of what my body was doing at the time. "Resentful." I said.
My energist then explained how answering those questions the way I did indicated my thoughts and feelings I had during my reaction were lies from my ego. She did say of course I may at times need medical attention. Even so, she asked me one of the most pointed questions of all. "No matter what, are you going to be OK? Even if it means leaving your body, are you going to be OK?"
"Yes." I said, adding that I want to remain here for my mom and my husband as I feel I still have so much I want to complete.
Then she asked me the same series of questions about my mom coming to live with my husband and I for a time. To which I responded as follows:
"Loving. Cooperative. Compassionate. Safe. Simple. Faith. Forgiving."
That right there is pure truth, the heart of the matter.
My energist also encouraged me to place my hand over my heart and express gratitude to my body for all it allows for me to do in this life and all it gives to me. Woo woo or not, I comprehend how this gesture could certainly put a positive note into my subconscious.
This may sound a bit odd. Since working on healing myself and my body for the past couple years, I have an increased awareness I am living inside an organism that has its own feelings and language. My body cannot speak in words. My body can express itself through symptoms. Over time I have tuned into what my body tells me. When I am caring for my body, my body expresses gratitude by functioning and feeling well.
The other day at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's Healing Words workshop, the guest speaker shared a comic book entitled "Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person." It is important to acknowledge the good that comes out of situations that are seemingly bad. It's not all bad in the way it's not all good (the latter a common catchphrase back in my 1990's college 'daze').
I've also seen how much of a blessing my chronic illness has been. I've completely altered my diet and abide by very clean eating habits. As such, my body has become lean and so many people in my life remark about how I am reverse aging. The challenging thing is looking healthy and yet still feeling unwell as well as not as able-bodied at times. I know I am learning to be more patient with myself and the world. Overall this experience has slowed me down, inspiring me to be more present and to look inward for answers. I have a wisdom I wouldn't have had otherwise. This has also tested the boundaries and patience of my marriage, which is all the stronger for it as I believe I will be when I'm fully healed.
I was browsing Facebook the other day and came across these incredible affirmations published by Huffington Post. I am planning to review these every morning when I awake and every night before bedtime:
My recent food reaction and health backslide I understood as my body's way of telling me I have to slow down. I've noticed a pattern of flare ups occurring during times of excitement, whether the experience is positive or negative. Of course I've also been dealing with quite a bit of stressful stimuli in recent weeks. Certainly stress has an adverse impact on a person's health, unless one just isn't human.
The night before my one year anniversary, my mom first confided in my bestie. Following their talk, my mom and I had a good heart-to-heart. In fact, this helped me realize how much less I converse now compared to the social butterfly I was previous to the chronic illness. I've become much more introspective and introverted. I'm OK with that. Yet I can see how this can be problematic for others, especially my mom who occurs for me as requiring much more reassurance, especially now that she's aware of living with cancer.
During our talk, my mom expressed to me she enjoys doing things for Al, that it's not a burden on her. I had an opportunity to express my concerns about how I fear the lack of balance in her and Al's dealings together could weigh too heavily on her, further jeopardizing her health. This time I think my mom heard and realized my concern is out of my caring for her. I was also clear she and Al need to exhaust all their resources before they get additional financial support from their family. This tax burden Al has been avoiding for the past 10 or more years is beyond ridiculous. As well, if this is also how he's handling his aging and declining health, this isn't helping my mom either. I am still very clear about my concern being for my mom's well being.
Even if my care and concern is for my mom and not necessarily for Al, I also realize I have to play nice to alleviate further conflict and keep the peace. Sure, the guy is a total tool. If I can find common ground it is that we both love my mom dearly, and at times we both have a contradictory way of showing it.
I'm really concerned about my mom's nutrition or lack thereof. She's so thin. She's also recently started losing her hair. If there's anything to know about my mom, she is very particular about her hair. If the hair loss is a side effect of her cancer treatment, she would rather be saddled on the sofa with nausea as the day is long than have her hair look less than its best. She spends literally hours on it everyday. It takes her at least three hours to get herself together in the morning. That's no exaggeration.
Realizing it may be beneficial to light a proverbial fire under her butt about her nutrition, I opined it's highly probable her hair loss could be a result of malnourishment. She then asks what she's supposed to be eating. I simply said, "More." Not to mention, I put together a list and details of foods that she likes and are really healthy. She hasn't really taken it to heart. She met with a nutritionist. I'm not sure she has taken that to heart, either. I will say after I connected the dots between her hair loss and diet, she ate a really big breakfast. Whatever it takes for her to maintain a healthy weight.
Then there's my own struggle with maintaining a healthy weight pared with my ability to consume foods that agree with my system. My diet had become more varied to a point. I had been habitually eating an egg with breakfast. That may be too repetitive, just felt it important to have the protein and fat to start the day. My bestie and my hubby have both been riding me about being too slender. I'm not yet concerned about how I look when I see my reflection. In fact, I have some nicely defined muscle tone. Yes, I've shed a lot of weight, at least 40 lbs. from my heaviest (which was way too heavy). I've been maintaining within 5-10 lbs. for the past year or so.
I went to see my energist yesterday. For anyone who may think this completely flaky or "woo woo," you're right. For anyone who may be open enough to comprehend the potential benefits of this work, you're right. Here's what I want to share with you about some of the work we did yesterday.
My energist got to the heart of a couple matters by asking me a series of questions.
Regarding my reaction the day before, she asked, "Is the thought or feeling you had during that experience more loving or fearful?"
Of course I said fearful.
"Is the though or feeling you had more cooperative or competitive?" she asked.
I went back to that moment when I went to inhale and was unable to complete a swallow therefore unable to get air. It lasted a mere moment. Even so, it was enough of a shock to my system to sound the alarms and trigger additional thoughts like what if this gets worse ... "Competitive."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more compassionate or judgmental?" she asked.
"Judgmental."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more safe or unsafe?" she asked.
"Unsafe."
"Is the thought or feeling you had more simple or complicated?"
I pondered for a moment ... "Simple."
"Mmmm, I get complicated," she said.
I pondered for another moment or two about all the directions my mind darted seemingly simultaneously. Here I am, sitting in a dark cinema with my husband, trying to enjoy a movie while my throat feels like it's possibly closing up. So it's a choose your own adventure. There's the part of me that wants to remain calm and try to focus on the movie because I want to appease my husband. Then there's the other part of me that just wants to be home in bed, surrendering to not being in optimal health. Then there's the other part of me that is telling me I need medical attention, otherwise chancing it could be fatal. How could I not be torn in that moment with each of those thoughts being so real to me?
"Yeh, I can see how the feeling was complicated." I agreed.
"Did the thought or feeling you had give you more faith or doubt?"
"Doubt." I said without a moment's hesitation.
"Is the thought or feeling you had more forgiving or resentful?"
Hmmm ... another one I had to ponder for a moment. Well the fact that I had wanted to appease my husband by suffering is certainly not compassionate toward nor forgiving of what my body was doing at the time. "Resentful." I said.
My energist then explained how answering those questions the way I did indicated my thoughts and feelings I had during my reaction were lies from my ego. She did say of course I may at times need medical attention. Even so, she asked me one of the most pointed questions of all. "No matter what, are you going to be OK? Even if it means leaving your body, are you going to be OK?"
"Yes." I said, adding that I want to remain here for my mom and my husband as I feel I still have so much I want to complete.
Then she asked me the same series of questions about my mom coming to live with my husband and I for a time. To which I responded as follows:
"Loving. Cooperative. Compassionate. Safe. Simple. Faith. Forgiving."
That right there is pure truth, the heart of the matter.
My energist also encouraged me to place my hand over my heart and express gratitude to my body for all it allows for me to do in this life and all it gives to me. Woo woo or not, I comprehend how this gesture could certainly put a positive note into my subconscious.
This may sound a bit odd. Since working on healing myself and my body for the past couple years, I have an increased awareness I am living inside an organism that has its own feelings and language. My body cannot speak in words. My body can express itself through symptoms. Over time I have tuned into what my body tells me. When I am caring for my body, my body expresses gratitude by functioning and feeling well.
The other day at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's Healing Words workshop, the guest speaker shared a comic book entitled "Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person." It is important to acknowledge the good that comes out of situations that are seemingly bad. It's not all bad in the way it's not all good (the latter a common catchphrase back in my 1990's college 'daze').
I've also seen how much of a blessing my chronic illness has been. I've completely altered my diet and abide by very clean eating habits. As such, my body has become lean and so many people in my life remark about how I am reverse aging. The challenging thing is looking healthy and yet still feeling unwell as well as not as able-bodied at times. I know I am learning to be more patient with myself and the world. Overall this experience has slowed me down, inspiring me to be more present and to look inward for answers. I have a wisdom I wouldn't have had otherwise. This has also tested the boundaries and patience of my marriage, which is all the stronger for it as I believe I will be when I'm fully healed.
I was browsing Facebook the other day and came across these incredible affirmations published by Huffington Post. I am planning to review these every morning when I awake and every night before bedtime:
- I am the architect of my life; I build its foundation and choose its contents.
- Today, I am brimming with energy and overflowing with joy.
- My body is healthy; my mind is brilliant; my soul is tranquil.
- I am superior to negative thoughts and low actions.
- I have been given endless talents which I begin to utilize today. I forgive those who have harmed me in my past and peacefully detach from them.
- A river of compassion washes away my anger and replaces it with love.
- I am guided in my every step by Spirit who leads me towards what I must know and do.
- My marriage is becoming stronger, deeper, and more stable each day.
- I possess the qualities needed to be extremely successful.
- My business is growing, expanding, and thriving.
- Creative energy surges through me and leads me to new and brilliant ideas.
- Happiness is a choice. I base my happiness on my own accomplishments and the blessings I've been given.
- My ability to conquer my challenges is limitless; my potential to succeed is infinite.
- I am courageous and I stand up for myself.
- My thoughts are filled with positivity and my life is plentiful with prosperity.
- Today, I abandon my old habits and take up new, more positive ones.
- Many people look up to me and recognize my worth; I am admired.
- I am blessed with an incredible family and wonderful friends.
- I acknowledge my own self-worth; my confidence is soaring.
- Everything that is happening now is happening for my ultimate good.
- I am a powerhouse; I am indestructible.
- Though these times are difficult, they are only a short phase of life.
- My future is an ideal projection of what I envision now.
- My efforts are being supported by the universe; my dreams manifest into reality before my eyes.
- I radiate beauty, charm, and grace.
- I am conquering my illness; I am defeating it steadily each day.
- My obstacles are moving out of my way; my path is carved towards greatness.
- I wake up today with strength in my heart and clarity in my mind.
- My fears of tomorrow are simply melting away. I am at peace with all that has happened, is happening, and will happen.
- My nature is Divine; I am a spiritual being.
- My life is just beginning.
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