I woke up somewhere between 5:30 and 5:36 this morning. I got myself showered, fed, dressed, and pretty and arrived at work by 7:30. For the next 8.75 hours or so, I treated patients back to back to back, educated parents, and helped share the responsibility of general clinic administrative upkeep. Somewhere around 10am, I happened to see the date in the lower right hand corner of my computer and realized it was a coworkers birthday, at which time I quietly organized a humble but heartfelt birthday celebration to be held at lunch.
Upon leaving work, I proceeded to sit in traffic for nearly an hour, despite the fact that I live only 15 miles from work. I then made a grocery list, fixed dinner, got the hubby fed and off to his open mic gig, and headed to Hobby Lobby (step 1 in the process of homemade Halloween costumes my coworker and I are putting together).
After leaving Hobby Lobby, I made a Monday night trip to HEB for what will be a little over a week's worth of groceries. Because it is late, the doors that usually enter were closed, so I made my shopping loop backwards, back tracking multiple times (I tend to forget items when I fail to follow my shopping routine). I finally made it back home around 9:00, schlepped the groceries to the apartment, unloaded them (hopefully they are all in the right place - no milk in the pantry, right?!), and washed/chopped/separated all of the fresh produce. Fresh cauliflower makes a HUGE mess, so I swept the floor, washed the dishes, and finished the night by cutting out the template to decorate our costumes tomorrow morning.
And yet somehow, while acknowledging the impressiveness of my day, I find myself less impressed with all that I accomplished and more concerned with where my day fell short. I do not know why, perhaps the daily onslaught of media, be it social or otherwise, but rather than patting myself on the back for the strength and determination (amongst other qualities) I exhibited today, my mind is drawn to the fact that, although I ate 3-4 'fun size' candies today, I failed to make it to the gym. Although I fed my husband a hot, home cooked meal, I do not know whether anything I fed him contained GMO's or high fructose corn syrup, or whatever awful else may be in foods these days. Although I took time out of my day to acknowledge and celebrate my friend's birthday, I did not bring him homemade treats.
And so I stood in the kitchen tonight, chopping vegetables (not all organic) and mentally menu planning breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for the week. Mentally organizing my days to find time to get into the gym or out for a run. Visualizing a calendar with due dates of bills and tasks to be completed. And one thought began to overwhelm all of the others:
You have enough. You give enough. You do enough. You ARE enough.
So this is what I want to share with you. I read facebook posts, I have conversations, I know how many of you finish each day feeling as though you could have done more or better. And I want to encourage you that, despite what television, or movies, or Pinterest tells you, you ARE enough. Some nights, you may work late and send the husband for Taco Bell. You may miss a deadline or lose an account at work. You may hand your kids your iPhone while eating dinner at the Olive Garden just to get through the meal. And there is nothing more, or better, that you can do.
Today, I believe I am Wonder Woman. I have little to no evidence to refute that, so that settles it. At least for today, I AM Wonder Woman. Tomorrow, well, we'll see....
Monday, October 28, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
What the heck is wrong with me? Chapter 1.
I promise not all blogs on this subject will be this long or this heavy. Most will be funny anecdotes of my misadventures, tasty recipes, and new found resources. But this one had to come out. I hope you'll read and enjoy...
If you've followed my blog posts for any amount of time, you undoubtedly know two things about my writing... first, I write only on topics with which I am well acquainted. I don't entertain any notions that y'all have the desire to hear my ramblings on topics which I know little to nothing about. I am not a politician. Secondly, I write on topics that inspire and impassion me. Tonight is no exception...
This is for anyone who has ever thought to themselves, "this is just how I am going to feel. this is my normal." For anyone who has ever finished dinner out with friends and rushed home after, praying the cramping will hold off just long enough to get to the privacy of their own bathroom, or for those who were forced to visit the bathroom before they could even get out of the restaurant. This is for anyone who has made up excuses to avoid going out with friends, because saying "I just don't feel well" for the umpteenth time is just embarrassing. And for anyone who has ever wept while driving home from a doctor's appointment, haunted by the look on the doc's face as he told you, yet again, all tests were normal. For all those times you knew he thought it was all in your head, and all those times you wondered if he was right.
The first time I can remember thinking, "this must be how grown ups feel," I was 12 years old, laying in bed with nausea for who knows how many nights in a row. Looking back, I think I needed to normalize what I was feeling so that I would be, well, normal. I wasn't sick ALL the time, although it was certainly with more frequency than should ever be considered normal, but I certainly wasn't going to come forward with that and be different. So I convinced myself that everyone felt this way when they grew up. I struggled over the next few years with bouts of stomach flu and "food poisoning," with drastic weight gain and loss, with many nights spent on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, whether throwing up, waiting to, or simply wishing I could. My poor parents stood by baffled.
At 15, we got a diagnosis. Actually, we got three. I was depressed, I had anxiety, and as a result of those two, I had developed IBS. Essentially, this was the first time I felt as though I was being told "it's all in your head." It would not be the last. Over the last 12 years, I have ridden the roller coaster of feeling worse and feeling "better," gaining and losing large amounts of weight, changing diets - eliminating acidic foods, dairy, etc. I have often thought I should have purchased stock in Mylanta, as much as I have consumed. I have tried laxatives, fiber, pro-biotics, pre-biotics, anti-biotics, anti-spasmodics, anti-hystamines, antacids. All with temporary relief at best.
Until finally, at age 27, about 2 weeks ago, I got an answer that made sense. Well, not an answer. The "gold standard" tests are, *SURPRISE*, inconclusive. However, on a suggestion by my GI doctor, I have gone gluten free and feel as though I am finally finding my answer, regardless of what their tests say. But this is where I get hot. I have been vigilant in seeking the truth. I have spent countless hours researching - webmd, medical journals, message boards, articles, etc, etc, etc - logging my symptoms, not matter how small or insignificant, logging my foods, logging my environmental factors (detergents, lotions, fauna & flora). I have sought out holistic methods to treat digestive unrest, I have refused to accept "well we just don't know what it is" as an answer. I KNOW IT IS NOT IN MY HEAD.
Autoimmune disorders, many known as "invisible diseases," are among the highest rising diagnoses in America. Yet so little is still known about them. Celiac, Crohn's, Ulcerative Colitis, MS, Fibromyalgia, Lupus, Hashimoto's, and several others are diseases that can often be crippling, life altering to say the least. But the medical community still knows so little, and the general public knows much less. Well meaning friends and family say things like "Wow, it seems like you're always sick" or "You never feel good." It's said with concern, but it certainly isn't acknowledging anything we don't already know. We struggle with embarrassment, avoiding things we enjoy, whether it is because we can't venture too far from a restroom, or because pain inhibits us from doing even simple things, like walking. We hate to be the one at the table who always has to ask about ingredients and how things are prepared, or to be the one who dictates what/where we can eat, but we do not have a choice. We lose sleep to our symptoms, we miss days at the gym we know we would benefit from but we're just too tired. And when we present all this to our doctors, they shrug their shoulders, or prescribe another pill.
I pray that as my friends and family you will bear with me and support my efforts to not only become healthy, but also to learn more about why it is that I am sick, in hopes that my future will not be plagued with ailment. I would also pray that you would be willing to learn about these "invisible diseases," because I'd bet my butt that most of you know more people than you think who are fighting these battles. Be patient. We did not choose to be sick, but we are choosing to fight. To be healthier and stronger tomorrow than we are today by whatever means we can. We are not hypochondriacs, whiners, picky eaters, or attention whores. We are trying to love life, just like you. Our experience is just different.
If you've followed my blog posts for any amount of time, you undoubtedly know two things about my writing... first, I write only on topics with which I am well acquainted. I don't entertain any notions that y'all have the desire to hear my ramblings on topics which I know little to nothing about. I am not a politician. Secondly, I write on topics that inspire and impassion me. Tonight is no exception...
This is for anyone who has ever thought to themselves, "this is just how I am going to feel. this is my normal." For anyone who has ever finished dinner out with friends and rushed home after, praying the cramping will hold off just long enough to get to the privacy of their own bathroom, or for those who were forced to visit the bathroom before they could even get out of the restaurant. This is for anyone who has made up excuses to avoid going out with friends, because saying "I just don't feel well" for the umpteenth time is just embarrassing. And for anyone who has ever wept while driving home from a doctor's appointment, haunted by the look on the doc's face as he told you, yet again, all tests were normal. For all those times you knew he thought it was all in your head, and all those times you wondered if he was right.
The first time I can remember thinking, "this must be how grown ups feel," I was 12 years old, laying in bed with nausea for who knows how many nights in a row. Looking back, I think I needed to normalize what I was feeling so that I would be, well, normal. I wasn't sick ALL the time, although it was certainly with more frequency than should ever be considered normal, but I certainly wasn't going to come forward with that and be different. So I convinced myself that everyone felt this way when they grew up. I struggled over the next few years with bouts of stomach flu and "food poisoning," with drastic weight gain and loss, with many nights spent on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, whether throwing up, waiting to, or simply wishing I could. My poor parents stood by baffled.
At 15, we got a diagnosis. Actually, we got three. I was depressed, I had anxiety, and as a result of those two, I had developed IBS. Essentially, this was the first time I felt as though I was being told "it's all in your head." It would not be the last. Over the last 12 years, I have ridden the roller coaster of feeling worse and feeling "better," gaining and losing large amounts of weight, changing diets - eliminating acidic foods, dairy, etc. I have often thought I should have purchased stock in Mylanta, as much as I have consumed. I have tried laxatives, fiber, pro-biotics, pre-biotics, anti-biotics, anti-spasmodics, anti-hystamines, antacids. All with temporary relief at best.
Until finally, at age 27, about 2 weeks ago, I got an answer that made sense. Well, not an answer. The "gold standard" tests are, *SURPRISE*, inconclusive. However, on a suggestion by my GI doctor, I have gone gluten free and feel as though I am finally finding my answer, regardless of what their tests say. But this is where I get hot. I have been vigilant in seeking the truth. I have spent countless hours researching - webmd, medical journals, message boards, articles, etc, etc, etc - logging my symptoms, not matter how small or insignificant, logging my foods, logging my environmental factors (detergents, lotions, fauna & flora). I have sought out holistic methods to treat digestive unrest, I have refused to accept "well we just don't know what it is" as an answer. I KNOW IT IS NOT IN MY HEAD.
Autoimmune disorders, many known as "invisible diseases," are among the highest rising diagnoses in America. Yet so little is still known about them. Celiac, Crohn's, Ulcerative Colitis, MS, Fibromyalgia, Lupus, Hashimoto's, and several others are diseases that can often be crippling, life altering to say the least. But the medical community still knows so little, and the general public knows much less. Well meaning friends and family say things like "Wow, it seems like you're always sick" or "You never feel good." It's said with concern, but it certainly isn't acknowledging anything we don't already know. We struggle with embarrassment, avoiding things we enjoy, whether it is because we can't venture too far from a restroom, or because pain inhibits us from doing even simple things, like walking. We hate to be the one at the table who always has to ask about ingredients and how things are prepared, or to be the one who dictates what/where we can eat, but we do not have a choice. We lose sleep to our symptoms, we miss days at the gym we know we would benefit from but we're just too tired. And when we present all this to our doctors, they shrug their shoulders, or prescribe another pill.
I pray that as my friends and family you will bear with me and support my efforts to not only become healthy, but also to learn more about why it is that I am sick, in hopes that my future will not be plagued with ailment. I would also pray that you would be willing to learn about these "invisible diseases," because I'd bet my butt that most of you know more people than you think who are fighting these battles. Be patient. We did not choose to be sick, but we are choosing to fight. To be healthier and stronger tomorrow than we are today by whatever means we can. We are not hypochondriacs, whiners, picky eaters, or attention whores. We are trying to love life, just like you. Our experience is just different.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)