The dreaded slump. I have not written here or even on my personal journal for a few months now. I have had a difficult spell. I had no way to express it. I had no way to release it. I am still trying to regain my footing. I am constantly told I am brave for being candid with my writing. Although, I do not see this as bravery, I see it as helping others. None of us live in a perfect life. No one person is in total bliss every single day. I am here to allow people to open up, ask for help, seek knowledge, and to find pride in who you are, good and bad. I will tell my story behind this screen, all alone in comfort and find solace in the end. That's how brave I am, in hiding.
Many people suffer migraines. Some suffer what doctors call "chronic migraines". No matter which someone experiences, it is never good. Since I was a young child I had no real idea what a "migraine" was or how it felt. I had been told, probably because at the time it was age appropriate, that a migraine was like the worst headache you can imagine. I had had headaches and thought they were bad so I assumed people were being dramatic if they said they had migraines. I was taught in a very strong fashion that I was very wrong and uncompassionate.
For several years now, going back to when I was seen at the Mayo Clinic in 2008 and before, I had had some bad headaches. I would sometimes feel a stabbing pain in the left side of my head. I often saw black spots or bright flashes in my vision. My neck would get stiff. I would complain to doctors, but was always told they were tension headaches. Being ill and stressed was causing these headaches so I needed to relax. The other symptoms were brushed off. I told myself I was overreacting. That is, until August 2012.
I was getting ready to volunteer at my sons school as a requirement of all parents. Only an hour a week in the lunch room and my hours were covered throughout the year. The thought of this was frightening to me. I am not the most outgoing person in the world, nor do I handle new people and situations smoothly. Inside I am a mess. While washing dishes all of a sudden like lightening a bright painful white light hit me like a camera flash, then sudden sharp pains throughout my head. I blinked and blinked while squinting as you would for a camera flash, but it didn't help. That headache lasted over a week and I eventually ended up in the emergency room. I had suffered a migraine. My neurologist determined I had been suffering migraines for years. The seizures took the spotlight, but migraines are also treated with seizure medications sometimes so the migraines had been pushed under the rug. I have now gotten to know my triggers, the feeling of onset, and how to push through. Mine have become chronic, meaning I have them for days or weeks on end some occasions but always more than half the month I have a strong migraine. No one who suffers migraines is being dramatic. They are horrible.
Last May my son had his First Holy Communion. Family was coming in to town and there were activities non-stop for about five days. About two to three weeks before, a dull migraine had come and gone, but just as everyone showed up I was in the worst pain. The kind of pain that leaves you nauseous. That pain never subsided even after everyone had gone and things had calmed down. It was soon summer so obligations tapered off as well. Nothing touched the pain. By the first or second day of July, I was in an ER. Sometimes the oral medications do not work for me due to absorption. IV medications are always a last resort. My neurologist and I spent all summer and early fall practicing trial and error, still to no avail. At this point we are waiting on Botox injections.
She explained to me that the Botox is a diluted, slightly different version of the commonly known Botox for cosmetic use. Injections are given around the hairline, some near the crown of the head, and some in the back of the neck near the base of the skull. This is to relax the muscles in an attempt to break the migraine cycle. Migraines are similar to seizures in terms of the activity of the nerves throughout the brain. These nerves cause muscles around the head to contract but struggle to relax. The nerves are also hyperactive, trying to send messages properly. The Botox helps calm things down. Due to logistics I have yet to experience this treatment. With that being said, I have had a really hard time opening up because I feel so crappy.
I hate to be that person who is a complainer, "Oh woe is me" all the time. I feel like I am that person. I tend to bury my head in the sand when things get tough. It is human nature to alert others of our suffering, but no one needs an update everyday if the complaints are the same. As an example with no disrespect, similar to a man with a cold. Sometimes I feel as if I have no light words to contribute to a conversation so I choose to hide the deep stuff. Hence my retreat.
In September I was set up with a new primary care doctor. She is wonderful. She decided to refer me to all the specialists I do not already see on a regular basis, gynecology and a urologist to follow my IC. Both of which I have avoided for obvious reasons. First came the gynecologist. While doing a routine exam she came across something that alarmed her. She sent me for labs and asked that I return the following day for an ultrasound. I was told that next day my labs showed possible polycystic ovarian syndrome. I have a friend I watched go through the diagnosis about a decade ago which seemed so difficult and scary. I was crushed. The ultrasound was done, but it seemed to take a little bit. As I was walking to check out, I could hear the doctor and ultrasound tech talking about me with concern in their voices. I returned the following day (are you exhausted yet) as requested again by the doctor. At that appointment I was told they found a mass. They found a tumor. A brick straight to the face, bam, and I froze. She explained the details and what would be coming in the following several weeks. At that time I was told a uterine biopsy was needed. In the office right then and there they took a tissue sample from my uterus. A little painful but tolerable. Then, wait for results.
I soon was seeing a gynecologist who was well versed in surgeries to remove cysts and masses possibly including the entire ovary. He was such a gentle soul who reminded me of a mix between Elmer Fudd and the Pillsbury Doughboy. The biopsy had come back fine so an ovarian biopsy was not needed at that time. He explained that this mass was a "complex mass" the size of a golf ball on my right ovary. It was a tumor. He decided to try some simple progesterone pills. This is a hormone that helps regulate menstrual cycles and many other womanly needs. The idea was to see if my own body would break up the "complex mass" on its own. I impatiently waited the five to six weeks to return for another ultrasound. If the mass had not budged or had grown it would need to be surgically removed and biopsied.
About six weeks after hearing about all of this for the first time, I was back in his office sweating it out. He greeted me as welcoming as the first time. With his squinty eyes and a contagious smile he said, "It's gone. Most of it has broken up so there is no need to follow it unless you experience problems." Like a balloon deflating I relaxed and my mind just floated. I did ask about the PCOS and he told me the mass was affecting my labs. I had no other symptoms so "No. Ya don't" with that same smile. I said my "thank you" and "so long" and hightailed right out of that office. Something huge had been lifted off me and I was ready to conquer the world again....as soon as my energy returns and the migraines slow. Haha
And then....you knew the and then was coming. In late October, early November my mouth felt like I had been punched. I brushed it off for days thinking I did something strange and it would work itself out like a crick in the neck. Well, days passed and there was no relief. I asked my husband, a man that steers away from dentists at all costs, to look inside my mouth. He said, "You need to call a dentist. Something doesn't look right." I put it off for several hours because I was sure it was nothing, but I eventually broke. They saw me within an hour and within 30 seconds the dentist said, "you're going to need surgery". My lower gums and lip had detached from my teeth. If I were to leave it alone I would lose those teeth. Now, I am the kind of person who flosses and brushes every day. I go to the dentist every six months for cleanings. Surgery?! What?!
I procrastinated but went to the surgeon's, periodontist's, office the next day. When I first sat down in his chair he said, "We need to do this today". I had to call my husband at work, he had to get our son out of school and meet me at the office. The periodontist performed a gum graft. He took tissue from the roof of my mouth and placed it across my bottom front four teeth and brought the lip in to reattach it. I lost count of shots, time, and stitches. I was told that my connective tissue inside my mouth finally gave. My body could no longer fight there. I lived on a soft foods diet more restricted than my gastroparesis diet. By Thanksgiving I called to ask if I could eat some more solid food. Thank goodness he said I could have what I could tolerate. I still had trouble talking, smiling, laughing, and puckering my lips but who cared at that point.
November was a month of rebuilding. My body had been through so much, it needed to calm down. I had a minimal amount of appointments and tests so I was able to decompress. With my mouth recovering I was forced to relax. Who'd imagine I need that? My son had the whole week off for Thanksgiving. It was really nice. We had slumber parties in the living room, watching movies and playing games until we crashed. Thanksgiving day was full of blessings. An impromptu dinner was made throughout the day for my family and me to enjoy. I had had so many migraines and belly aches that I had no intention of cooking. I cannot eat what everyone else can so it was a lot of work for just one child-sized meal. My boys would get a traditional Thanksgiving at my cousins' house in the evening so I had no obligation. The sun rose that Thursday and I decided to make the most out of the holiday. By 2pm I had a full meal of meatloaf (easily broken down meat for digestion), roasted rosemary and garlic potatoes, green beans, and corn bread. We bought a chocolate cream pie for my boys. It felt so comforting not exhausting. We later went to my cousins' where there was turkey and stuffing and pies and drinks and family. Just a beautiful day of happiness.
December rolled in with Christmas in tow. My endocrinologist has been pressuring me to get a continuous glucose monitor. I put it off because I had one for a year or two about eight years ago and I hated it. It beeps at all hours of the night and day. It was painful to insert and to have under my skin. The adhesive tape was brutal and I had to change it too often. So his suggestion fell on deaf ears. Over the summer, with the terrible, unbreakable migraine, my blood sugar was all over the place. Lows sometimes in the low 30s upper 20s (severely dangerous) and highs up in the mid 300s (only makes headaches worse) were starting to frustrate me. I had the experience of watching someone go through the early stages of the monitor I wanted and eventually decided it was worth a shot. I had been told within the past few months that my insurance wouldn't cover it. When I actually called the company, Dexcom, they took care of it and found out that my pharmacy benefits were going to cover it. I received my Dexcom early that next week. I am actually pretty ecstatic about it. I knew I needed better tracking of my blood sugars, but another apparatus just made me hate this situation more. Once I got over that mental hump, I was good to go. So, by the time I got it I was elated. That was only on December 16th so I am working on balancing what I've got on my body. That in itself, was the best Christmas gift I could imagine. Health is priceless.
With all these non-stop unexpected blows, my psyche is ravaged. I have been an emotional wreck for a time I cannot even count. Lonliness. I only lived in New Mexico for the past 30 years. I have not worked in four years. I have not been to school in over six years. There is limited opportunities for me to make friends, especially at this age. I know only family in Texas so I have no fall backs. Many of my family members live further than I am comfortable driving, although it is all in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. They have full lives with their own schedules and plans, as they have a right. I am not the type to invite myself to join anything. I am not the type to talk small talk with a stranger. Not feeling comfortable opening my life up to many leaves me in a tight situation. Guilt. I lay in pain on the couch with no energy while my son wants to ride his scooter or go to the mall. My husband gets off work to get home to a dog who needs a short walk, a son full of energy and conversation, and a wife lethargic on the sofa. I can't travel. I can't be very spontaneous. I can't eat at just any ol' restaurant. I feel as though I drag them and everyone around me down. No one will admit how annoying or frustrating it is, but it must be. Anger. Every time things seem to be stabilizing, a ball drops. I want to be better for my family so I will try harder tomorrow. Tomorrow finds a new ailment. Frustration. See above, need I say more. And the fight for happiness. Who wants to be miserable? I want to find peace so happiness can flow freely. Sadness. In the depths the what-ifs always show their ugly faces. If I had been allowed to finish college I would be doing the work that is done to me so often. If I could make my own money independently we would be so much better off and the pressure would lighten on my husband. If I was healthier I could do all the activities you see a mom do with her child in a TV movie. If, if, if. If I could travel I wouldn't feel so stifled. I wouldn't feel so lonely. Grief. In all those what-ifs there is a sense of grief. In my mind I am the person I set out to be and always was, in realty that girl is gone. The activities, the food, the freedom, the physical strength and stamina, the availability of continued higher education, etc. is all gone. It is a mourning as if someone has died. And someone did. But someone new emerged.
Someone new emerged. Amazing words. A new perspective. Now I am kinder, more knowledgeable, more compassionate, more giving, more practical, more open-minded, more determined than ever before, and a better mother because I know what I could be missing out on. I work just as hard seeking out knowledge as if I had been able to continue higher education, and my quest never ends. I hunger for information, any not just health. I love to learn and it is not necessary to be in a classroom to do so. I am finding new talents, for example, writing. I am learning a whole new level of patience, but believe that will be an ongoing process because perfection is constantly changing. Speaking of perfection, I am working on loosing up a bit. Being a perfectionist is impossible. There is no room for perfectionism within the life I lead. Why should I waste so much energy beating myself up? This new person that has emerged is equally new to me. Years pass and I am still working on acceptance. I am still getting to know me, Lauren, and finding myself in the chaos. I don't think my dust has settled, but I look back and think "how long are you gonna take to catch up". Haha
And yet, I read this and know deep in my heart that I am not the only one who feels this way. We all have different lives and different perspectives. We all have our own joys and pains. We all have our skeletons and demons. We all are a constant work in progress. As a child it is never a thought in your mind. For myself, I knew as a child that things would constantly be changing as I got older so I embraced the change. Some time in high school or college or later, we all unintentionally dig our heels into the ground and think we no longer have to change. We look back and want what we had and hold on to every last fiber as long as we can...sometimes too long. For myself, I feel it has been to long. I seek my inner child. I read this and realize, I am still being too hard on myself. I am being a hypocrite when I say perfection is unattainable and still think thoughts of how I NEED to be instead of letting go and letting these words sink in. This is part of the purpose of this blog.
It is an open journal to the masses. When I put it that way it frightens me to share so many issues, thoughts, and feelings. I sought out something similar to this when my knowledge and emotions were so low with my illnesses. I wanted validation for my devastation and fear. I decided to write this blog as I walk through life so if in some way, some how someone finds comfort in this then I am doing what I intend to do. Please know that you are never alone. Know that someone else shares whatever pain or joy you do, you just don't know it. Find peace in that somehow. I will work on doing the same.
