Osteoporosis Won't Break Me

  Osteoporosis. That is an interesting word to hear at 37 years old. That's what I got. I had to do a bone density scan last week. Not just because my broken foot is taking its sweet time to heal, but I am also very thin, malnourished, and I have ovarian failure. Yup. You read that right too. Ovarian failure. These are two things someone in their thirties rarely has to think about. This is now what I face. Although a little frightening, I see this challenge as a learning opportunity. It isn't a great deal of fun for a man to read about ovaries so I will keep that short and simple.

  For years I have had irregular periods. For a few years I was treated for ovarian cysts and that worked out great. When we moved from a metropolitan area in Texas to a rural area of New Mexico I kind of brushed it off not wanting to find an OB-GYN because, let's face it, who does? After 2 years and a serious lack of periods I finally broke down. I would love not to have one, but I am smart enough to know it is not good to not have them. There is not a chance of pregnancy. I had my tubes tied back in 2011 due to my fragile health. I found an OB-GYN. After a detailed exam and discussion she knew things might be more complicated. She ran some blood work and called back a few weeks later to notify me that I have ovarian failure. What's that?

  Well, I had been warned since my early thirties that many auto-immune diseases cause early menopause. My assumption was that may be what is causing me to be irregular. I have never heard of ovarian failure.  The Mayo Clinic refers to it as ovarian insufficiency. That word again, "insufficiency". Seems to be one of my running themes. Basically, my ovaries are not producing enough estrogen and/or eggs. This is not normal for women under 40. It is different from menopause in that women with ovarian failure or insufficiency can have periods on and off and possibly even get pregnant during this time (not me). Women who have premature menopause  stop having periods completely. Glad we got that sorted out. So the next question is what do we do about that?

  The doctor talked about hormone therapy and a few other things. All of which I listened to but barely understood. This is not in my wheel house and I have never even researched them. I am such an information junkie, I am usually ahead of the curve. She then explained she wanted to consult with an endocrinologist (specializes in hormone and hormone glands) as well as my primary care physician to go over options for any possible treatment. Her concern, of course, was starting something that may be dangerous considering my complex medical history. She heard I broke some bones in my foot so she decided to have a bone density scan done.

  I had to go to the local hospital. All diagnostic imaging is done there in our small town. That is a scary experience during COVID and I have been there several times since I broke my foot for different scans. A side note to this is the woman who checked me in was not wearing a mask. It is state mandated and it is a hospital. That made me uncomfortable. The scan took hardly any time. She did have to take my official height. I am proud to say I am officially 5'3". I am the tall one in my family haha Due to the pandemic, results get to the doctors faster. Radiologists are not having to do as much since healthcare is focused on necessity right now. The very next day the OB-GYN called to let me know I have osteoporosis.

  Now that was not what I was expecting. I am pretty good at being prepared for a new diagnosis. My gut instincts are good at knowing even before I consciously know myself.  Not this time. Because it is not something that was on my radar and no one in my family has really talked about it, I honestly had no concrete idea on what the different bone diseases/disorders meant. She explained and I listened, but I can't relay what she said. I don't think it registered at the time. Again, she wanted to consult with my endo and primary care doctor before starting any treatment, but some treatment is needed. I do take a calcium supplement and vitamin D because I do not absorb them naturally. She believes some hormone treatment may be necessary at this point.

  Osteoporosis literally means porous bone. Bones do have a blood supply. They also have two very important cells called osteoblasts and osteoclasts. The osteoblasts break bones down. Osteoclasts rebuild. Diabetics already produce more osteoblasts than osteoclasts which is why it takes longer for our bones to heal along with poor circulation. In osteoporosis there are also more osteoblasts than osteoclasts causing the body to lose more bone than it can reproduce. This makes the bones porous and brittle. Sometimes something as little as a sneeze or minor bump can cause a bone to break. The main concerns are the spine, hips, and wrists. I have read that even just sitting there a vertebrae may crumble. How do you protect yourself when you are a 37 year old mother?

  Strength training, impact exercises, and nutrition. So, we know I can only do so much nutrition wise. I eat as healthy as I can within my limitations. My body does not absorb all nutrients. I take supplements to help, but it is not a fix all. I am limited in protein intake due to my gastroparesis. Most of us know, protein is crucial for repair and development of the body. That one gets me. I have always exercised. In the past ten years it has really only consisted of long walks and yoga. Since my broken foot I have had to become more creative. I do a lot of floor or chair work which really strengthens your arms, abs, butt, hips, and back. Little did I know, that strength training is exactly what is necessary for osteoporosis. Score one for Lauren. The impact exercises will come in due time. They are things like walking, running, and jumping. But at least I know. Now, I can be sure to do a variety of exercises even beyond my foot injury. 

  I have mentioned this before, but I found some great content on YouTube for "hurt foot" workouts. Donovan Green (Dr. Oz's trainer) and Caroline Jordan are my two favorites. They make chair cardio videos. Caroline also makes floor barre and total body non-weight bearing workouts. I have come to really enjoy them. I used to be a long distance runner and basketball player. These workouts get me to that level of intensity. Who would've thought? Walking and yoga are peaceful, but nothing beats a runners' high. I am strengthening muscles I didn't know I had yet are so crucial to preventing injury. They have even gotten my shoulder feeling great. I had a labral tear last August and have struggled through physical therapy and more to rehab. These exercises really strengthen your posture muscles in turn strengthening your shoulders. I highly suggest you try it before you knock it, especially during this pandemic. It will reduce anxiety, help you strengthen, possibly lose weight (if needed), and as my son puts it, "It's somethin' to do". I recruited him for my evening routines. It has changed my life for the better.

  That is what is so cool. We all say, "there is always a rainbow at the end of a storm" or "the sun will come out tomorrow" yet it is difficult to really internalize. We also know there is power in positive thinking. Well, the shoulder injury and then the foot injury seemed horrible, but have now proven to actually be a blessing. They have made me really slow down. I tend to push myself beyond my limits then pay for it. These injuries have reset my mind reminding me to not push so hard. They also brought me to new exercises. I learned I really enjoy things I normally passed up. That has made me rethink trying other new things in other aspects of my life, These two trainers are incredible at educating while not judging. They are motivational. I have learned to be compassionate with myself. I am constantly reminded to be grateful for how incredible the human body is. It is one of the rare things that can heal and get stronger. I am better at pushing away negativity. I am better at focusing on my health. That helps all else fall in to place. 

  As I sit here with my foot propped up and no end in sight, I do feel thankful. I am excited for the day I can walk again because that just means I can add more to my arsenal. I will never get bored with the variety of exercises I can do. I may not be competing anymore, but I think I am stronger than when I was. I talk about exercise so much because I love it. Movement is medicine. Having a bad day> Exercise and get endorphines. Feeling tired? Exercise and get endorphines. Bored? Don't eat. Get up and move. The endorphine rush is real. The best natural remedy on earth. As long as you are doing it right and for the right reasons, there are only good side effects. Even as sick as I am, I think I was born with far too much energy and I have to get it out some way. 

So, welcome osteoporosis and ovarian failure. I am here to fight and win. 

The Slump

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.

Pushing The Limits

  Hello all. I know it has been some time, but I have had a few unusual months. I hope it can be a learning experience and eye opener for some.
  On Mother's Day my son received his First Holy Communion. Although, I myself am not Catholic, I understand the importance and honor so I am so proud of him. (We will no longer discuss religion).  Needless to say, the few weeks following up to that were very busy. I was worn down, for sure. It was also near the end of school when the kids are stir crazy. For a few months prior, I felt like I wasn't having as much movement in my stomach. The last time my stimulator had been adjusted was in November. I had a check-up in February, but the symptoms were somewhat brushed off. I knew it may be par for the course. For some reason, maybe the peak of stress, that weekend I instantly felt like I had before I had the stimulator.
  Friday night after dinner I was doubled over in pain. We had gone out to a restaurant I frequent, but it is not completely gluten-free so cross contamination is a possibility. I assumed I had been "glutened". The next day I opted for a smoothie at lunch. With family in town for the big occasion, the girls went for a manicure/pedicure afternoon. While drinking the smoothie during the pedicure, I already felt symptoms of pain and bloating (this kind of bloating is not and does not feel like common bloating). As the day went on it seemed to get worse, but I knew there was no contamination. We went to a restaurant that is a real treat for me that evening. It has very strict procedures to avoid cross contamination. I ordered fish and chips which is high fat, low nutrition, low fiber, bad carbohydrates....but we all deserve to stray. Immediately, I was in pain just walking out to the parking lot. Again, I thought I had been glutened. Or, I thought the sudden feeling of being overwhelmed by family, a lot of activity, and a big stray from my body's normal routine may be too much.
  With my routine being off, as many of us do, I was thoughtlessly neglecting some important factors of my life. I would accidently forget a batch of pills I am supposed to take at certain times of the day. That is SO important for seizure medications. And of course, different medications all metabolize differently, etc. You know the story. The increased activity and lack of rest wears on my body pretty badly. Add to all that, the manufacturer of a probiotic I have been taking for years now suddenly stopped making that probiotic. My local health food store tried to match it's quality with something else. They did supply me with a new probiotic, but unknowingly, it had dairy. A bad storm was at my door.
  After the exciting weekend passed I did my best to get back on track. I assumed all my symptoms were directly connected to my choices those past few days. I had chalked up the prior, more mild symptoms from the previous several weeks to my fantasy of this wonderful device. I was reminding myself it is just a humanitarian device, not treatment; do not expect perfection. As soon as I noticed the dairy in the new probiotic, I immediately stopped using it. The notation was in the tiny print on the bottom of the bottles because there are very few guidelines for supplements and their labels. I just doubled up on an over the counter probiotic I know works very well for me. I knew it would be a few weeks until I would know if it was working in my new system. I tried to get back to my usual diet, but I wasn't strong enough. My mother-in-law stayed with us for a while after Mother's Day weekend. She loves to go out to eat and she enjoys dessert very much. She is allergic to wheat so it works out ok for me. I fell to the guilty pleasures. I also was allowing myself to relax a little. See if my body can be pushed a tad with regard to my diet. It didn't seem to like it very much at all. There were other factors in this complex equation as well.
  We all have our limits, our pet peeves, our comforts, our space. As much as I love my mother-in-law, I had agreed to more than I can handle. She was supposed to stay for six weeks. Part way into the first week, my buttons were being pushed. I was trying intensely to smother my reactions because she deserves time with us, being further away now. Things got tense as the days passed. My husband works full time and my son was still in school so I was with her for several hours a day, just the two of us. That was difficult, especially when I am used to having down time for those few hours a day. In that stress, I again was missing medications and ignoring my routines completely. I continue to speak of routine because it is one of the best ways a diabetic can control blood sugar and my belly works on a routine as well (Lord, how I wouldn't love that to relax a bit). This is so dangerous. For anybody on medication, be strict with yourself. I was risking seizures, severe nerve pain throughout my body, and making my digestion practically impossible. So all this time I have a million excuses for why I felt so awful.
  I finally decided to be a little vulnerable and put myself first until it fell back in to my multi-tasking life. I asked my husband to take his mother home. I felt she had spent some good quality time with us, but it was now pushing boundaries. He agreed.  It ended up working out the best for her that way too, because her sister was ill and she wanted to get back to her. It worked out for us all.
  Unfortunately, I still didn't get a chance to stop to breath. It seemed as though it was one thing after another. I was falling back into my routines food and medication wise, but somehow stilled missed doses every now and then. I had to take accountability for that so my feeling of malaise was not a surprise to me. I was on the edge of an important reminder. There is a difference in taking accountability and blaming yourself. Some things are out of our control.
  It all came to a head one Sunday evening when life had finally felt on track for a few days. My husband grilled some fish for us and I made some oven-baked sweet potato fries. I had been trying to work fish into my diet because most meats are too difficult to digest while fish has the added benefit of incredible nutrients. When that meal was over, I knew something was really wrong. I, again, was doubled over in pain. My stomach was rock-hard and I looked as though I was half way through a pregnancy. I made my husband take a picture so I could so my gastroenterologist. The next morning only confirmed my fears. I was incredibly nauseous, as if I hadn't even been diagnosed with gastroparesis. My mouth was dry and I was so thirsty. No matter how much water I drank, my thirst couldn't be quenched. Everything tasted disgusting, bitter, almost metallic. I wanted nothing at all and all the water was making the nausea worse. By Wednesday I called my doctor.
  Once I described my symptoms I could hear in his voice he too, knew something was wrong. He was booked but tried to get me in as soon as he could. Not only was he concerned about my nausea and lack of appetite, but he was also worried about infections. When I got in to see him I was doing somewhat better with less thirst and dry mouth, but still feeling awful otherwise. He did a usual physical exam and then wanted to check my stimulator. He brought out the Enterragator (I love the sound of that, like a superhero). There is a little plastic disk I place on my skin where the device is located. That disk is attached to a machine that looks like a label maker. He instantly had a look of confusion on his face. Now, I don't completely understand the lingo for this device whatsoever so forgive me if this part is vague. Basically, he had discovered that the stimulator had actually reset itself back to the settings they had first put in during surgery. That was minimal voltage to allow my smooth muscles the chance to work up to movement, let alone digestion. That meant a lot of my symptoms were because I was back to little or no movement of my stomach. This was a mystery to us all. He did also send me for a lot of lab work.
  The next week I saw my endocrinologist. I was surprised to hear that through all the chaos, my A1C was 6.5. That is great because the closer diabetics are to 7 or lower, the less risk we have for complications. He also had no complaints about my blood sugar trends so he made no adjustments with my insulin. By downloading information from my pump and glucometer, he can see how my blood sugar levels are throughout the day usually looking at the last ninety days. With all the missteps I had made in that time, I had managed to do better than I had thought. Again, a blame I placed on myself. He checked the labs my gastroenterologist had run which included my A1C and my thyroid levels. Everything was normal which also meant there was no infection. My symptoms had some to do with me getting overwhelmed and letting that run me over while some had to do with the hiccup of my stimulator.
   I was hopeful that soon I would feel a lot better. When my doctor had initially turned up my stimulator it made me more nauseous. While I was able to eat without pain or distention, I had no appetite and felt like my stomach had butterflies that were moving too quickly. I knew that would pass as I got used to the increased movement. My appetite slowly began to come back. I relaxed about my blood sugars, being more confident in my abilities. Then, for a few days I felt better. A day of fun with my son sparked a new hurdle.
  My son and I share a passion for music and love for pushing our bodies physically. Are we weird? His cousin is a star gymnast at the ripe ol' age of eight so he likes to try out her tricks when she is not around. I happened to be in gymnastics when I was a child, but never made it very far. I am flexible and athletic though, so the few basic movements I remember coupled with my own childhood body contortions, I share with him. He had bought himself the new Michael Jackson CD (his idol) and we were having a blast listening to it while be acrobats in the living room. Once I was beat, it was time for dinner so I made my way to the kitchen. Suddenly, I felt faint to the point of feeling like I could pass out at any moment. I swigged some OJ quickly and grabbed my meter thinking the extra activity had run me low. My blood sugar was fine. Hhmm? As I went about making dinner it swept in and out, but I really felt weak. By the end of the evening I had a headache. I knew I had done too much.
  Over the next few days this rush of faintness continued to pester me. I continuously monitored my blood sugar never seeing a low in these times of weakness. The headache increased and never stopped from the moment it started. I do have chronic migraines associated with my seizures so my neurologist has me on prevention medication as well as an emergency medication I can take at the onset of a migraine. After a few days, I realized it was an intense migraine and those feelings of faintness that now included cold sweats, were the aura. I needed to call the neurologist. That's exactly what I did. She told me to go ahead and take the emergency medication. If within a couple of hours it doesn't help, she instructed me to go to the hospital for IV medication. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I took the medication and waited. I gave my body a little while longer than she said, justifying my decision with my malabsorption. I told myself it had made a dent in the pain. I believe I was delusional. My husband was at work at the time and the next day he had to work open to close so I did not want to inconvenience him. Again, I had forgotten to put myself first.
  Days passed with the pain still there and me deteriorating. I was weak, could not be in light, could barely handle sound, nauseous, and sleeping so much. I kept thinking I needed to give in and go to the hospital, but talking myself out of it each time. Hindsight is 20/20. I was really walking a tight rope. That Sunday my son had opening day for his basketball league this summer. I could not miss that so I did everything in my power to work up the strength for those two and a half hours. I made it that day. I did feel some improvement in pain and some increased strength so, again, I jumped the gun on thinking I passed the danger zone. It is Wednesday now and I still feel remnants of this everlasting migraine (I have had longer and worse before). My eyes and neck still hurt. I can handle very little noise. I am definitely irritable. So, when will this cycle stop?
  Yesterday a light bulb went off in my head. Remember how I stressed the importance of timing with seizure medication? Well, it is also important not to miss a dose as that increases the chance of breakthrough seizures and/or migraines. Ding, ding, ding. My body has been put through the ringer for months now. I was pushing its limits. I was stressed out. I allowed myself to succumb to the thoughtlessness that a healthy individual can escape to when a special occasion arises. I missed the small print of dairy. I pushed aside nagging symptoms. I missed medications. I messed with the routine my body is most efficient in. As a patient I fell off track and blamed myself for the uncontrollables that were also part of the equation.
  Let this be a lesson to us all. There is a reason for the labels on medications. Follow them along with your doctors' orders. Cut yourself some slack or the diseases take over you. We all know our bodies, healthy or not. I have said it before and will use it again, our bodies are smarter than any doctor out there so find a balance. I ignored so much and justified just as much. Now, and for a while, I pay the price. A song I love says, "if you're ever gonna find a silver lining, it's gotta be a cloudy day".

  Although, in the midst of my wallowing, I was unable to get my ten month anniversary/birthday post for my new life with the Enterra gastric stimulator. Today marks day 336 on my journey to the one year mark which marks full estimated recovery time and a clear view of the device's effectiveness. I do believe my bump in the road will affect that a little bit for a short time. But nonetheless, I am here. Eleven months. One year as a resident of Texas. A rug ripped out from under my family and I has brought us to this point. This point of laughing and a little freedom. This point of about 15 pounds gained since surgery. This point I kind of take for granted until those past symptoms creep back or slap you in the face. Who can deny, this is amazing? I cannot be more thankful for the opportunity I have been given. I will do my best to stay conscious about its worth in my life. With that in your hand, it is like a diamond you never thought you'd see.

Sweet 16

Today marks 16 sweet weeks after surgery to implant the Enterra, a gastric stimulator. I have to say it has been on my mind all day long just how far I have come in these 16 weeks. Then I start to think how far I have come since this time last year. Although this path has been long and often painful emotionally and physically, as I look back I can see how every person, every doctor, every step along the way has been so crucial in my journey to this point.

I talk a lot about how there were not as many resources for me in New Mexico. This is a true statement. I lived in New Mexico for 30 years. Lived. My very first pediatrician was almost a part of our family. He referred me to my first internist when I was a preteen. She told us then that the big picture of my health would take time to come into view, but there was definitely a quirk they weren't catching. In college I was bounced around for a little while until a really great endocrinologist began chipping away at the pieces. Moving back to small town New Mexico had its share of challenges, but I will say this as firmly as I can, those small town doctors saved my life. They got me to specialists who sent me to the Mayo  Clinic. That opened my eyes to realize I really needed to take this seriously. I am no immortal. Those small town doctors eventually put puzzle pieces together to refer me to Dallas for this very procedure. Then, they referred me to Johns Hopkins to be sure their plan was the right plan. So whatever little resources New Mexico had, it once again is the Land of Enchantment because a few gems saved my life.

To get to the business side, for those of you interested in my progress as well as this incredible technology behind the gastric stimulator, today is a good day. Last week I had an appointment with my surgeon/ gastroenterologist and the Enterragator. I tell my husband I am like Iron Man and the Enterragator, which helps the doctor control my stimulator, is what keeps me running. I am still working on the lingo so forgive me for not talking technically about the device and what happens at the appointments that leads to adjusting the stimulation and whatnot. I have hit a plateau since my last appointment and blog post. Not to worry though, a plateau is level not a decline! I am still worth a buck, but no more. My appetite has decreased as well as an increase in nausea and discomfort. Based on that as well as what the Enterragator told my doctor, he bumped up the stimulation just a bit once again. This is normal, as with anything in your body there is an ebb and flow that we are manually trying to keep in equilibrium. The discouraging part, I have to slow down on challenging my diet and return back to "safe foods" for a while. "Safe foods" meaning things I could eat before the procedure without too much trouble. I am welcoming the nutritious smoothies, fruit bars, and eggs...not that I ever cut them out completely, but they are again replacing more indulgent meals. I suppose if anytime is a good time, now is because they have become comfort foods for me. Autumn is perfect for comfort foods.

I am getting more used to having the device in my abdomen. The pain from the surgery is starting to lessen more and more everyday. It is still a little tender right at the site of implantation. If I do too much, my stomach muscles get sore. Bending and twisting along with certain clothing irritate it. But overall, these little inconveniences are nothing compared to what I was dealing with in the past. I rarely get a distended belly anymore. I actually feel food moving along my system in a more natural manner. Gas and regularity are not an issue. The biggest blessing is being able to eat three meals a day without feeling like I ate the entire McDonald's menu in one sitting.

Thanksgiving is coming up and everyone is wondering what I will be doing. I will gladly tell you, I will be doing the same as everyone else. I will be relaxing, spending time with family, and enjoying my son's time off from school. I will not partake in the traditional turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie meal that most Americans are accustomed to for Thanksgiving. Too many years have past with me trying to conform to a world I no longer fit in always ending with me in tears and pain for nearly a week thereafter. This year I decided to cut myself some slack. Why am I forcing down food that is only satisfying when it is on my tongue for a few short seconds? Instead, I think I will make a meal the day before to cut down on stress. I will make something that is a treat to myself as well as my family, but it will be a feast in my sense. I am sure there will be enough left-overs for me to enjoy the next day. On Thanksgiving itself, I will join family and friends for their feasts and enjoy their company with no pressure and no misery nightcap. Maybe some Thanksgiving in the future (next year?) I can enjoy the traditional meal and if not, oh well. I will make my own traditions and still enjoy life just as much as the next gal.

All in all, I can genuinely say this is my sweet 16!