Self-compassion Is The Goal

   My goodness. I barely know where to start. The world is in chaos. I can openly admit I am exhausted. I am an extremely high risk person living in this pandemic. We are all experiencing COVID-19 fatigue, meaning we are so tired of it we are becoming a bit more reckless. This is understandable! Many are using the excuse that we cannot live in fear. The thing is, I am not living in fear. I am living in caution. I personally am not scared of dogs; however I would not walk into a group of dogs I am unfamiliar with because that would put me in danger of getting attacked. I do not live in fear, but I do protect myself from danger. This means as long as people are treating this virus as if it were as simple as the common cold, I cannot leave my house. I can wear a mask and wash my hands, but if those around me are not it takes away that crucial layer of protection for all who are high risk. I do go to the doctor or hospital if necessary, but those environments are the safest during this time. Even the physical therapy facility is taking serious protocols and following all CDC guidelines. I just would enjoy being able to rejoin the world beyond maintaining personal health.

  That being said, I did go to the doctor twice this week. I will start with the fun part. I had a follow-up with my podiatrist Tuesday. I have been doing physical therapy since September 15th, but I have still been in a boot. I really only worked on range of motion. At Tuesday's appointment I was cleared to graduate out of the boot. Funny thing is I had bought new shoes just days before I broke my foot. After five plus months in a boot and using crutches, most of my right foot shoes are really worn down. It was really helpful to have new shoes waiting for me in the box. I have to wear special orthotics. I will continue physical therapy to regain strength and range of motion. I am fine with that. 

  I am ecstatic to have the ability to sleep and walk without the boot. My foot does get tired easily. We take for granted all the work our feet do. There are muscles in places I never imagined. Again, I don't mind. I know with some work it will get easier. It is funny to watch it not move when I am concentrating so hard trying to move a muscle. If you know me, you know I like a challenge. I like to tackle and conquer challenges. That makes the rehab process for my foot rewarding. My physical therapist told me, "I'm so glad you are OCD. You are really trying to make sure you get it done right." It was part taunting and part complimenting. He is not the first to mention how rigid I can get so I took it with a laugh. He said many people go through the motions without making that mind to muscle connection so they end up hurt again. I cannot promise I will not hurt myself, but I can promise I will work to prevent it at all costs. That sort of connects to my earlier thoughts on COVID. Do not live in fear, but do what you can to prevent the worst. That baby step forward of graduating out of my boot was not the only excitement for the day.

  I was able to make it home for a quick lunch and some stretching exercises. Then my husband and I headed north to my general surgeon's office for a surgery follow-up for my gastric stimulator. She is about two hours away so it is a good time to blast some old music and enjoy the ride. This appointment was not nearly as eventful, but still productive. I am healing very nicely. I have not lost weight. She simply bumped up the voltage and cycles. This will make my stomach move just a little more. To put it into perspective, I was at a ten for voltage for the past 4 years. When she replaced the battery she had to start slow and low, at a six, to allow my body to adjust again. Now, I am at a seven but with a higher cycling time as well. The next best thing is that her office is near nutrition I love.

  Whenever we go out of town food is the main excitement. It sounds ironic because food is such an enemy to me. Her office is near a Smoothie King. Smoothie King is a smoothie joint that was started by a gentleman whose brother had similar digestive issues. He wanted his brother to have a place to go so he came up with this amazing business. They have smoothies of all sorts, but more importantly they make dairy-free, gluten-free smoothies. They also generally have snack food. We first came across this place in Dallas/Ft. Worth, but was surprised to find it had expanded to New Mexico. Then there is a burger joint my husband loves so he got his treat too. We drove home with the sun setting on the beautiful scenery of northern New Mexico. Since we drove south we enjoyed the sunset.

  All in all, things are looking up. I enjoy periods of time when I am showing improvement as opposed to frequent tough news. I will ride this high for a while. No one can take that away from me. I hold these feelings close to my heart. I still have the reality of being chronically ill. But I am a fighter.

  Let me tell you a little about me beyond "the sick". I enjoy most genres of music. Music is in my blood. Radio has been a huge part of my life thanks to my family working in radio for years. My grandparents met while my grandma was making money singing on radio commercials. My parents met while my dad was a DJ at my grandfather's station. I enjoy being active. Again, it runs in my blood. My dad loved surfing. My mom is a marathon runner. And my step-dad (hate that word) was a football player and coach. I have played and participated in sports all of my life. I love to read. I am that oddball that loves non-fiction, but I can soak up a fiction novel often as well. I really enjoy science, especially nature and human anatomy/physiology. I am known to break out in random acts of dance. I am a very faithful person. The Lord is my savior. I drive a truck because that's just who I am. I enjoy volunteering when I can, although in the past couple years I have not been able to maintain anything on a regular basis. In turn, I frequently find things to donate in any way I can. I mentioned earlier I like a challenge. I love the feeling of accomplishment thereafter. I am also stubborn. I can get passionate and the stubborn seeps in possibly causing a mushroom cloud. That's kind of a joke, but not really. I am very honest with my feelings. I could go on and on, but I will spare you.

  I just thought it was important to take notice of the fact that underneath all of this unbelievable medical issues is a bright human being. We all face challenges. We have all been given a hard deck of cards. The good thing is we have all been blessed as well. That is the joy of life. The up's and down's and what you learn throughout. It makes the high's even better. We are also all multi-layered creatures. We have gifts to offer. Celebrate your gifts. Highlight your blessings. Appreciate the challenges that teach you such valuable lessons. Be self compassionate. Focus on the good and the good gets better.

Recognizing The Good

  I am so proud. I have been able to get back to a lot of my normal activities since the surgery last Tuesday to replace the battery in my gastric stimulator. Having this thing working again is insane. I barely notice physical feelings from gastroparesis changing, but the underlying things you cannot see are remarkable. I do still feel overly full. That is constant but even moreso after a meal for a few hours. I have had some nausea with regurgitation. Last night I actually threw up twice. Although that sounds bad, it is actually somewhat of a good thing. It means my stomach is churning. Probably because I was so used to it being off, my body is reacting similarly to sea-sickness/ motion-sickness. That will subside. My belly does cramp. Again, that can be a good sign showing that muscles that have been stagnant are moving. just getting tired. I remember these from my last two surgeries and once they subside I am more comfortable. I will always have symptoms of gastroparesis since mine is so severe. That does not mean getting the stimulator or replacing the battery was in vain. There have been notable good signs.

  One of those welcome changes is my blood sugar. I did have a telemed (thank you pandemic) appointment with my endocrinologist last week. She helped me make a few changes, but overall thought I was doing very well considering all things. Our newest change was to give myself insulin for my meals 15-20 minutes after my meal. Most people need it before the meal, but since gastric emptying is delayed it is better to wait. So far that seems successful. But moreover, in general my blood sugar is reacting well to the food and insulin combination. I am not having random high blood sugars as often. That is so nice because high blood sugars do make you feel kind of rotten and the swings from high to low are even more taxing. I have had to lower my background insulin because I am not needing as much. This tells me food is not lingering as long in my stomach and small intestine. Eventhough I am not feeling this happen, my diabetes is welcoming the change.

  A big takeaway from my appointment last week was the praise the doctor gave me. Somehow in chronic illness it is easy to place blame on yourself. You feel like you brought this upon yourself. You also feel guilty for burdening those around you. And beyond all of that, as the disease progresses you feel as if you pushed it along as opposed to fighting it. To hear a doctor say she appreciated my tenacity and positive attitude spoke volumes. She expressed how pleased it makes her that I am on top of things and constantly learning and adapting. She touted my intelligence. All of this means so much. The day to day, minute to minute challenge can leave you feeling defeated as I have mentioned about myself in the past. Having someone who deals with a lot of people in the diabetes community recognize me for being a "great patient" makes me feel as if, as usual, I am too hard on myself on a daily basis. Have we mentioned Type A personality??

  The next thing I am hoping to see, since my blood sugars have changed, is my other blood work improving. My main highlight is cholesterol. With gastroparesis and all the comorbidities I literally cannot even think about eating animal fat without getting sick. Fat in itself is incredibly hard to digest, especially "bad" fats. On top of that, meat is incredibly hard to digest, particularly red meat. Yet, somehow my cholesterol is through the roof. My theory is a two fold. One part is that I take a lot of supplements to help with nutrition. Some supplements can give false results. Since my last blood test I have stopped taking those supplements for a short time. The second part of my theory is that cholesterol or triglyceride blood work needs to be done on an empty stomach. Although I have tried to go in on"good" stomach days thinking my belly may be empty, I bet it was not. If you drink even a tiny sip of orange juice, cholesterol will show up in your blood so imagine a full stomach. We will repeat the tests in a few weeks. I am hopeful we will get better results. No matter the situation the doctor does not want to put me on statins considering the fact that I am young, thin, exercise, and eat minimal fat. She suggested a supplement called Cholestoff, but I have not gone out and gotten it.

  In terms of the surgery itself, I am making good progress. I am able to do some chair cardio workouts and a little stretching. The wound is healing beautifully. And pain is decreasing daily. My belly is still a little swollen, but I seem to remember that part taking the longest to go away. I get tired easy. But I am sleeping through the night, which is awesome. I began physical therapy for my foot last week. None of the work they had me do caused any pain near the surgery site on my abdomen. I am proud of myself for all of this. I am helping my body heal by showing it some love and it is responding. Score.

  To talk about my foot for a moment, I'm going to jump subjects. I am actually writing this minutes before my next appointment. I am still in a walking boot for a while, but I can take off my boot for no impact work. I have done squats on a Total Gym machine, rode an incumbent bike, and today I will work on some resistance training. As much as I dislike physical therapy, I welcome the exercise and recognize its importance in the healing process., as well as preventing future injury. This is just another baby step towards recovery. The interesting thing is that I will see the podiatrist on October 6th to see if I can possible get out of the boot then I will jump in the car to head a couple hours north for a follow-up with my surgeon. Busy day, but killing two birds with one stone. I am encouraged I will get good news.

  As I write this I am feeling a little crappy from a sleepless night with some vomiting. I am feeling a little emotional for no discernable reason. But at the same time I am so happy with where I am. I feel like I am making good progress without pushing myself too hard. I am healing better than I expected. God is really working on me today. He has given me such a hard day yet so much positivity to balance it. I know tomorrow will be better than today. That makes things better. I am seeing what could be when all of this recovery is over. That is exciting. We all knew this was coming. It is just so difficult when you are in the middle of the whirlwind to believe it will ever end.

Acceptance is Key

  Today is 7 days out from my surgery to replace the battery in my gastric stimulator. It was such a difficult decision to make, but I have not questioned it since. I know I made the best decision for my lifestyle. I needed to gain better control of my brittle Type I diabetes while still being able to stay active. I was certain I was doing the right thing, but was waiting to feel that "buyers' remorse" type regret. I was afraid I would wake up from surgery and start thinking of the "shoulda done"s. That has not happened once which is such a relief!

  The dynamic of gastroparesis and diabetes is that of a toxic relationship. One entity trying to dominate the other. I have always been active. I was taught healthy eating at a young age and that just got more intense once I was diagnosed with diabetes. As a Type I we are able to eat like anyone else, we just give ourselves insulin to cover the carbohydrates in food. I began to limit simple sugars like candy once I was diagnosed, but we all should do that anyway. When being educated on insulin dosing and carb counting you learn there are different carbs like complex or simple. Simple carbs go through your body quickly causing a quick spike in blood sugar followed by a quick drop. Complex carbs are slow to digest so they help maintain a more even blood sugar. Think about pouring plain table sugar through a straw. It's like a pixie stick. Quick. Then think about adding crumbled oats to that table sugar and you would imagine it would disrupt the flow taking the sugar a longer amount of time to clear the straw. Same thing with your digestive system.

  Now, usually insulin starts to act within 15 minutes and continues working for about 2 hours. That would be great if you had a meal with protein and complex carbs like eggs with whole wheat toast. That would make a graph of your blood sugars look like rolling hills. If you ate Lucky Charms instead you would see the Rocky Mountains on that graph. The idea is to keep the rolling hills. So what happens when your body does not digest in the normal fashion? Mountains, valleys, hills, the works. Gastroparesis starts to win the battle over insulin.

  With gastroparesis food stays in my stomach for days. Yes, I said days. On top of that, sometimes things get pushed through by other food, sometimes it travels at a semi-normal speed, and sometimes nothing moves. Liquids are the easiest thing to move. We all know that fiber, fat, and protein slow the digestion process. Most healthy diets use them to help maintain steady blood sugars, even in non-diabetics. Typically a diabetic diet is high fiber, high protein, and good fats. Gastroparesis has limited me to 5 grams of fat per day, 10-15 grams of protein, and 10-15 grams of fiber per day. THAT IS NOTHING. Yet my stomach still is not moving food. So what does this mean?

  This means I am eating a diet that is 100% against the diabetic diet or the "Lauren" diet I used to love. I am eating only simple sugars with very little protein or fiber. But remember, my belly is not moving or digesting. I cannot give myself insulin right before I eat. It usually needs to be after because my body doesn't even begin to absorb the sugar right away. Usually 1-2 hours after I give myself insulin for a meal my numbers are fairly good. But wait an hour beyond that, then the next and suddenly my blood sugar is through the roof. Why? Well, because I gave myself insulin for the meal I was eating, not for the food that is in my belly. When food moves from the stomach to the small intestine, that is where most of the sugar is absorbed. Without knowing exactly what is moving from one organ to the next it is incredibly hard to predict what may be absorbed. All I know is what I just ate. Sound confusing? IT IS! And the worst part, no doctor can give you advice. They can monitor you, but they cannot tell you how to predict something or how to safely prevent more damage. Gut motility disorders are not well understood.

  When the battery went out on the gastric stimulator I had no idea. What did start to happen, and should have been my first clue, was my blood sugar would drop way too low after eating then spike way too high 3-4 hours later, remaining high for hours. If I tried to correct, it would plummet. I thought I was stressed out and adrenaline was causing some wacky things. Not the case. I was not digesting, moving, or absorbing properly. I could tell I was struggling to digest because the easiest things were starting to feel like bricks in my belly. I have said this before, but it feels like I eat an entire fast food meal plus a large pizza all by myself. I almost feel the fullness all the way in my throat. I don't even remember what it feels like to eat a regular meal and just feel satisfied. I always feel deprived, yet always feel incredibly full.

  As you can imagine, this wears on my emotions. Food is such an integral part of our culture. We have feasts for big holidays and cook-outs or gatherings to celebrate anything we can imagine. We meet up for lunch, dinner, or drinks just to catch up with a friend. Food is everywhere. As this disease progresses, and it is happening faster as I age, I am having to limit more and more while simplifying more and more. I spent hours on the computer last night looking up recipe ideas and anything else to help me feel more "normal". Of course, this is not the first time I have done this kind of research. Since so little is understood about motility disorders there is little to be found.

  I have discovered little tricks along the way. One of my tricks is exercise. More important is exercise involving twisting or crunching always involving the use of gravity to help break the food down while shaking it through my belly into the small intestine. Walking, yoga, pilates and similar exercises are my go to. The problem is I am having to do these things more than I want now. Most days I end up working out 2-3 times per day for at least 30 minutes. As much as I like to be active I also want to be lazy. On top of that, the exercise burns a lot of calories I just tried to consume. So I eat then exercise or just not eat at all. Neither of those options are good, mentally or physically. 

  I spent a lot of last night in tears. Then my ninja girl comes out and says "I will conquer this." Then I get mad. And the cycle often continues, but it ALWAYS passes. I just explained to my husband that I am envious of those of you who can eat regularly. I don't think I remember what a normal gut feels like. I want to run and jump and swim and hike. But I can't. Not just because of the gastroparesis,  but the other diseases limit me also. I want to be able to eat at a restaurant or leave the house without having to pack my own food. I miss baked goods so much. It is this all encompassing deprivation.

  My positive self comes out when I start to spiral like this. I have options. I spent today making chicken noodle soup, chicken with rice soup, and peeled and sliced potatoes I bake with a tiny amount of olive oil. My parents generously drove 2 hours to go to Whole Foods and grab me some unsweetened peanut butter and dairy free yogurt. I have plenty of frozen fruit I can use to make smoothies. I can tolerate eggs now that the battery has been replaced. Unfortunately, that is the extent of the excitement. Notice there is nothing crunchy on this list. Also, the soups do not have any vegetables because I cannot tolerate them. No beef or pork. No spices. No condiments really. So, I have options but not many. A human being instinctively needs to chomp. Eating pureed foods, soups, and baked potatoes does not give you that crunch. It seems like even if I do all the right things I will still feel deprived. It is overwhelming and unfair. Who said life was fair, right?

  The one tool I hang on to is gratitude. I do thank my body for allowing me to wake up everyday. I thank my body for the ability to move. I am proud of myself for continuing to fight this battle. I am proud of myself for finding something to smile or laugh about EVERYDAY. I hold onto my intention for every action. Sometimes my intention for a morning workout is simply to ground myself and not focus on the benefits it is having on the disease I fight. Sometimes my intention for an afternoon unplugged is to be present with my son. Most days my intention is to be me. I have so much to be thankful for. I complain. I whine. But I know my struggles are minuscule compared to so many others. As I enter this new chapter my intention is to accept. One of the biggest causes for depression is not accepting your challenges. I will learn and adapt as the diseases progress. I remind myself that I have faced similar challenges in the past and made it through. There is always a rainbow at the end of a storm. Usually that rainbow is that the challenge made me a better person. This too will make me stronger. I may desire more than I have, but when I look at how strong this has all made me I know the grass is not always greener on the other side.

   It has been a few years since I last posted. I really needed some support when I first starting going through this crazy journey of multiple illnesses stacking up on one another eventually being found to have APS Type II which is a fancy name for "my immune system prefers to attack me". I could find information on each disease. I could find blogs and stories of people who had theses diseases. But I could not find someone who had faced so much all at once. I could not see a light at the end of all these scary doctor appointments and tests and hospitalizations. I felt lost and alone, and understandably scared. I started this blog because it was what I was looking to find. I knew that there must be more people going through this, yet no one was talking.
 
   A few years into writing, and being very vulnerable, I was told by someone that the information I was sharing would be better put in a journal. I got another comment or two after that as well. It started to make me feel bad. Just two or three tiny statements had this enormous affect on me. I shut down. I no longer wanted to share my story. I read non-fiction all the time. I love learning the ins and outs of anybody's stories. I thought that if I shared I would help someone else. Then these statements made me feel as if I were doing something wrong.

   I started this blog with the intention of it eventually turning into a book. From the time I was first diagnosed with Type I Diabetes I was told I needed to write a book. As things played out for the next decade, the inquiries about a book kept flowing in. I continue to get encouraged to write a book. "It will help doctors." or "someone just like you needs this right now." or "it is so incredible, it is almost unbelievable." So, here I am again at my keyboard. Whether or not I ever turn my story into a book, I do not know. What I do know is, if I can impact someone I need to act.

   Without going back detail by detail, I just want to re-introduce myself. I am a 37 year old wife and mother. I grew up in rural NM. At the age of 12 or 13 I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. That is similar to having a slow thyroid except the thyroid is actually a goiter or inflamed. My father passed away from Type I Diabetes when I was very young. At the age of 20 I was found to have the disease as well. I was in college studying psychology at the time. My goal was to help special needs individuals. That diagnosis made me take a bit of a turn and I decided to also study nursing wanting to eventually become a diabetic educator. Suddenly I began to have another problem. This time it was interstitial cystitis. A condition that prevents your bladder from maintaining its mucus layer leading to ulcers and burns inside your bladder. I began medication and started to feel better. I was told, however, that fertility was going to be an issue. Not being married and only being 21, that information went in one ear and out the other. I did have a long term boyfriend, but I am a total Type A personality so babies were not on my mind.
 
   Jokes on me. I found out I was pregnant at 22. I was warned the pregnancy was not good. I continued my studies and had a healthy baby boy nine months later. Things seemed to be stabilizing. I had good blood sugar control and my thyroid medication was on point. I no longer needed my bladder medication because the IC had gone into remission. None of this stopped me from striving to reach my goal of a career in medicine. Until one fateful day my boyfriend, now husband, found me face down in the closet at 6am. I had had a seizure. Mind you, we thought we knew all of my health issues and epilepsy was not in the mix. The seizures became more frequent and continually unexplained. After about a year, we decided to move back to our rural hometown for a slower paced life hoping that would help. Unfortunately it didn't.

   As time went on the snowball rolled.  I was sent to the Mayo Clinic twice which only gave us a clear diagnosis of epilepsy. That made it necessary for more testing in our local region. I was found to have full blown Celiac disease which lead to a diagnosis of pernicious anemia, chronic atrophic gastritis, alkaline stomach, and gastroparesis. I was sent to a rheumatologist who diagnosed Lupus, but things still didn't seem right. To me or my doctors. I was sent to an immunologist. They found an array of allergies. Then suddenly, an answer.

   I was diagnosed with Schmidt's syndrome or Auto-immune Polyendocrine Syndrome Type II. That's a fancy way of saying I have an overactive immune system that is attacking my body in multiple places. This made the myriad of diagnoses come together. But as all diseases do, they progressed. I finally agreed to go to Johns-Hopkins University. From there we were told my stomach had come to a halt and I needed a device called a gastric stimulator to survive.

  Six weeks later we were in Dallas preparing for this new chapter. I got the stimulator implanted and began gaining a little strength and weight. My weight had gotten as low as 82 lbs. We spent four years in TX so I could be close to the doctors that implanted the device. Through those four years there were hospitalizations and a few bumps in the road, most of which are documented in previous posts. We eventually made the decision to move back to NM because I was becoming overwhelmed with being the patient, not feeling like a human. We chose a place on a major freeway so access to doctors would be easier because, let's face it, I do need monitoring. I also made sure there was someone nearby that could mange my stimulator.

   The past four years have played out fairly smooth compared to my roller coaster decade and a half prior. Things have progressed as most diseases do. My stomach is no longer really responding to the stimulator. The battery will last about a year or two more if I am lucky. At that point, I will have to decide whether to replace the battery or remove the device all together. Because it has been so long (2013) since it was implanted I am worried I do not remember what it felt like to live without it. Through a lot of long, hard talks with my husband I have decided to let it die. I will hopefully be mentally strong enough to leave the device in for two to three months nonfunctional. This may give me a better idea of how much of a difference the stimulator has on me. If I decide to live without it, we can then remove it.

   To be honest, my knee-jerk reaction is to take it out. The battery pack is under my skin in a pocket above the muscles. The leads go through the muscle to connect to the stomach. The battery pack takes up the entire left lower quadrant of my abdomen. For someone who is 5'3" on a good day and hangs out around 100 lbs right now, that is a lot of space. With my diabetes I have an insulin pump which is connected to the body by an infusion, similar to IV's except it is just in the fatty tissue not any veins. It needing to be in fatty tissue limits your sight options to the abdomen, love handles, buttocks, inner thighs, or back of the arm. A continuous glucose monitor, Dexcom, is also something that needs to be stuck into fatty tissue to read blood sugars through interstitial fluid in fatty tissue. All that being said, I have very little fat so I have my Dexcom on the right lower quadrant of my abdomen. That leaves the mini love handles for my pump infusions. The Dexcom and insulin pump infusions create scar tissue. Scar tissue does not absorb insulin properly and does not allow the Dexcom to have accurate numbers. We have tried other parts of my body, but these are the only places that work. Problem is, the scar tissue is building up and I have no where else to go. If I had that left lower quadrant of my abdomen available for my diabetes management devices it would help.

   The conundrum here is blood sugar versus nutrition and weight. With the paralysis of my stomach and the multitude of other digestive issues, food is not absorbed properly. This wreaks havoc on my blood sugar. A normal stomach pumps about 16-24 times per minute acting like a blender with your food and passing it on to the small intestine. If I am lucky, mine will do that in a day. Food does not travel consistently or fluidly. Sugar is absorb through your small intestine so not knowing when the food actually will get to the small intestine causes some issues when trying to manage my blood sugars. Add that to the scar tissue I have building up causing trouble with insulin absorption and diabetes management is nearly impossible. I do what I can with diet and exercise, but a gastroparesis diet is completely opposite of a diabetic diet.

   It is recommended that people get around 25 grams of fiber per day. Fat is ok, but best through plants and nuts. And protein recommendation is about 40 grams. Every body is different, this is just general. For diabetics, if you follow this diet with very little sugar you can be smooth sailing. Now for gastroparesis it is recommended to keep fiber less than 10 grams per day. Same goes for protein. And fat should stay around 5 grams per day. WHAT?! Yeah. Think about that one for a second. One egg is roughly 6 grams of protein. One slice of bread typically has anywhere from 2-5 grams of fat. A banana has about 3 grams of fiber. Now, imagine your typical day and your typical diet. Seems nearly impossible to meet all these bench marks or limits. There you have it. What would you do?

  This has just been a brief re-introducing of my health background. Let's remember, my health does not define me. Reading this is daunting and it all sounds depressing and scary. The truth is, you're right. But I am not living in a pity party. I still have a million blessings all around. I still have the crazy mom days. I still find a way to exercise EVERYDAY because I love it. It makes me feel better. It makes me happy. And it makes me feel proud and accomplished when I have conquered something. I love to read. I like crime shows and comedy specials and sports. My son is autistic and teaches me so much. We have a crazy little 9 month old Australian Shepherd mix who makes us laugh everyday.

   In an effort to not make this post any longer I will sign off for the day. My intention is to return to writing. I would love to share with you my antics, knowledge, health, and personal growth through this journey I call life. I will leave you with this little nugget. I have become friends (in my mind) with a health and fitness coach on YouTube named Caroline Jordan. She says "Smiling is an advanced move if you feel the need to kick it up a notch". I feel the need, ladies and gentlemen.

Pros and Cons

After a brief break I am back to share my stories, worries, concerns, joys, and all that falls in between. I believe there is joy in all we go through. It is simply the intricacy of any situation that gives us the window to the beauty. I have been through a few twists and turns since we last met.
For several months, back into late 2014, I have been having these strange, painful, sudden then lingering cramps. Cramps are the only way I can describe them for lack of a better term. In mid March one of these sudden pains came on and dropped me to my knees. A pain that became suddenly debilitating, even to the point that I could not take a breath or call for help. After staying frozen long enough for the pain to settle down a bit, I called my doctor. The only way I can describe it is imagine you have eaten a super sized meal from McDonald's then took off at a full on sprint. A side cramp to knock a giant out would hit you like a brick. Now multiply that and imagine it remaining constant, but with sudden jolts sporadically. I went back and forth for a week or two with my doctor until he heard enough. He told me to get down to the hospital for admittance. Thankfully my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to help with our son. My husband's family was ironically on their way to visit. It became a tag team situation until most of his family left, leaving behind my mother-in-law with us as long as we needed her. That was a true blessing.
Once admitted I was put on a clear liquid diet. This would be a major downer for anyone. One of the worst downers for me. I have been well over anything lemon/lime or jiggly for years now. Being a diabetic made it more challenging, as my doctor had noted it in my diet (explanation to follow). The next morning they quickly did an EGD/ endoscopy. I was still ordered to stay on the clear liquid diet thereafter. I tend to vomit often after tests or severe pain and this scope proved no different. The rest of the day was not worth ingesting a thing. IVs are certainly a life saver.
Over the next few days I was run through a battery of tests. So when I woke on that second day I read my diet allowance through and through, time and time again. Italian ice. Ok, that sounds pretty safe. I love the frozen lemonade or cherry ice you can buy almost anywhere during summer months. I called down and ordered a cherry Italian ice. I was quickly swept away for a quick scan. Upon my arrival I saw this melted red substance, somewhat jelly-like, with a strange white cream (if that's what I want to call it) which was obviously not clear yet allowed on this diet. It was not something I thought I'd like no matter what diet I needed. I decided to call down for some ginger ale considering the vomiting was only tapering off. "You are not allowed ginger ale."
"But it shows it IS allowed on the clear liquids options..."
"Well, you are diabetic and have already hit your carb limit until lunch."
Carb limit?! What exactly is my limit? I had no idea. The person on the other end and I played our little game for another few minutes. Me explaining I am Type I and have an insulin pump as well as being on the clear liquids reiterating my limited options. Him explaining I did have the option of a broth, which is also something I despise, or wait 4 hours before ordering. At this point I ended the conversation defeated. Then a light bulb. I asked my husband to run to a gas station and buy me some darn ginger ale for goodness sake. The nurse happened to be in my room at the time and said she would sneak down to the cafeteria and grab something she thought I could stomach. Within minutes I had some lemon/lime soda (oh yuck) with a small cup of orange sherbet. I asked for a cup. I decided to put the sherbet in the cup and pour the soda over it. Instant party punch. My husband then comes in with a six pack of ginger ale with a surprised look on his face because there I was with the lemon/lime soda he saw. When I explained, he was delighted at my starving, innovative ways to find a happy place. I was in such excitement when I got bumped up to a full liquid diet the next day, especially since we now knew how to work around the ridiculous carb limit.
We knew how to work our way through a lot of this due to previous hospital stays with similar restrictions. I slowly worked my way up to smoothies. With a little more substance in me I was overjoyed by getting the chance to roam the hospital when I got restless....every few minutes in my case. The pain had lessened up enough, though I was doped up pretty well by this time. I certainly could tell when my re-up was necessary. Throughout it all my doctor came by once or twice a day to check my progress or decline as well as give any updates to my family and me. Much of the stay blends together as you may imagine.
Two or three days in he came in with some information that set the stage. The endoscopy showed irritation around the leads of my gastric stimulator. There is a clear print out of risks with this stimulator, as with any other medical need, where it lays out the possibility of migration of leads, perforation of the stomach, and rejection. At that point in time, all they could definitively say was there was irritation and inflammation. He needed to communicate with Medtronic, the manufacturer, and was going to try to touch base with a national expert he knew well. The manufacturer asked for my records while communication with the colleague was difficult. Days passed with little to no new information or plan of action. It was discussed that the leads and/or device needed to be replaced. My doctor was tossing the idea around about different casing around the leads and different materials to hold them in place hoping to prevent the irritation. By that time he had determined it was rejection of some sort.
Along the way he asked if I thought I would be able to handle food. My eyes lit up, but my belly second guessed me. I opted to try applesauce with little confidence. My lack of confidence turned out to be a true finding. Vomiting ensued so I moved at a snail's pace. At day six I tried some dry cereal that soon turned in to shards of glass going slowly through my digestive system only increasing the pain I was experiencing. I gladly went two steps back and crawled even slower to solid food. By day eight, although I love my shakes and smoothies, I was ready to try again. This time I ordered scrambled eggs, a staple usually, and some potatoes, not hash browns. I made it through a few good bites. I was pleased to show my doctor when he stopped by. He wanted to see a little more before he would discharge me. At this stage of the game he had come to a decision to get me stable, discharging me, and continuing to search for a solid answer with me as an out patient. A couple of days later, I was up to half a plate of eggs with potatoes and showing clear signs of holding down fluids. He finally discharged me. He wanted to turn up the device a bit in hopes it would allow me to eat just a bit more. He also wanted to check back in two weeks for a follow-up with possibly another bump up. There were plenty of loose ends to tie up, but some strengthening and recovering time at home would be very beneficial.
I have seen him several times since. We have been left with the same lack of knowledge from others as well as the manufacturer. In another patient a replacement of leads or the device would be a no brainer, but my situation is different. What if my body just rejects what they do? What if my body is not strong enough to withstand another really major operation? How dangerous is this all? Neither my doctor nor I had any clue what our next step should be. He wanted some firm answers or strong opinions from others before he jumped the gun. In the meantime, he wanted to compile as much information as possible to present to someone or to show him light through the open door.
Many of these tests and scans were frightening, none painful in lieu of the pain we are trying to mend.
The last scan I had was a Gilliam scan, named after the man who discovered it. This is a three day nuclear medical test. The patient is injected with radioactive tracers. A special camera takes pictures from several angles while the patient lies still, usually on their backs, for 30 minutes to an hour. For me, that is when pain is at its most high. Flat on my back. On the third day a radiologist reads them and if something is seen at that time they will decide if more is needed. That extra imaging is an additional hour long scan. Lo and behold, I needed the additional time. According to the hospital staff my doctor would have the results within two days. He then would contact me with said results. Not my doctor. He is absolutely phenomenal, but he takes his time combing through everything before he says or does a thing. Admirable in this rush-and-go society.
Yesterday was my most recent appointment since the Gilliam scan. I am always a nervous wreck before appointments, no matter the health need, especially with my gastroenterologist. Add in the hectic freeway driving and navigating through Dallas equals an adventure in Laurentown. I was discouraged from the get-go with the simple number on the scale. I remind myself of my efforts in those moments. The doctor came in shortly after. Our assumptions proved true. The scan showed significant inflammation and irritation around the leads. The solution to this problem, you might ask. Remove the device. He decided replacing the leads would not help because there is no other casing. If my body is rejecting the casing, it would be wasted effort. The only solution is to remove the device. He then said we could leave it in if I could bare it until the battery dies. He and I went through a maze of, what we thought was, logic. I asked if there was any immediate danger such as additional damage being caused. He said there was not. I asked if it is affecting my small or large intestines and again he said it isn't. I asked how long the battery is estimated to last considering I am coming up on my second birthday/anniversary. Based on my settings his original estimate was three or four years back when I got it so that encouraged me. He said normally they simply replace the battery when it dies, but what he could do is replace the entire device and see where that leaves us. All the worries of keeping it in were somewhat hashed out. Ultimately, the decision is my own.
I have gone through this same scenario in my head for some time now. I have often told relatives and friends that I don't know what's worse, this pain or the pain I experienced before I had the stimulator. Now, that is exactly what I face. Here are my thoughts with some reliable opinions of others. With the device still in I am feeling pain, constant with sporadic jolts. Without the device I was constantly distended only growing as the day went on. That caused pain that increased throughout the day leaving me with a heating pad on my abdomen every night. With the stimulator in I am able to enjoy some "normal" food without intense fear. Without, I never knew when I could handle anything. With the stimulator vomiting and others are at a minimum. Without the stimulator it was daily and sometimes multiple times a day. With or without the stimulator I can hardly wear anything but elastic clothing. Without the stimulator I would have more canvas for my insulin pump and continuous glucose sensor. I hardly weigh a thing, but who knows if or how much that number will drop if the stimulator is removed. I was also reminded of how much more isolated I was before I had the stimulator. I would sleep a lot usually ending my day around 6:00p purely out of lack of energy and strength. I was also candidly reminded how close I was to death before I had the stimulator. In writing this post that statement has come to the forefront of my mind because it is a reminder that I celebrate the implant date by calling it my birthday. It was a second chance at life that day. I was blessed to have the option.
As I tie up my post for now, I leave you with the question. What would you do faced with a decision so serious, but choosing the lesser of two evils? Do not get me wrong, everyone has their cross to bare. I am simply asking how you would come to a decision. Would it take an instant to make a final decision? Or would it take some intense thought and needle searching for answers?
I will not lie and say I am ready to make a choice. I can openly say this is weighing heavy on me. The difficult part is finding an objective view because the pain is indescribable no matter the choice. The uncertainty and isolation are the same no matter the choice. I have love, support, a son who is a tornado of joy, a hard working husband, a nice place to call home, and more. I get out and interact, just not as much as my counterparts. I go on long walks. I read good books. I have so much and yet somehow the hardest decision clouds all of the amazing gifts.
Today I choose to hang in there. I choose to manage my symptoms as they stand. My doctor said my physical activity and life should not be an issue. He said to do what I can handle. So I choose to listen closely to the pain and work around it. Tomorrow, next week, next month I may change my mind. I may decide I can't take it anymore. I am at peace knowing what it is, but I am war between emotions and clear thoughts. And you yourself are probably reading this with a major decision in your life. Maybe we should just stick to the moment to see where it takes us.
As I said to my doc as I was leaving his office, "trust your gut" no pun intended....but it sure is funny if it was intentional.

Surfing The Wave

Welcome back to the dramatic life of Lauren the Great. I recently talked about my one year birthday with the Enterra gastric stimulator. This device is starting to spread throughout the nation, and I am so glad for that opportunity. So many people need this device, whether it be to gain weight or lose weight. Yes, they can actually adjust it to help with obesity. I have heard my hospital has implanted a good amount since my own. I recently spoke with my diabetic educator in New Mexico and she said they are implanting them there as well. That warms my heart more than you can imagine. I like to stroke my ego and say that I promoted it a lot which gained recognition for Medtronic, the manufacturer. Maybe soon it will be considered a treatment option as opposed to a humanitarian device. The rest of my post may seem to counteract much of what I have talked about previously, but no one really can understand the immense impact it has had on my life as well as my family's.


I realize it has been some time since I last posted and I definitely fell off my routine. Again, life happens as well as emotions. This summer has been difficult with my health and hotter than a Texas summer (pun intended). Late April or early May a migraine struck. I have suffered migraines for years, but they seem to be progressing. I used to think people were being dramatic when they said they had one. It seemed like every time some one had a headache they would refer to it as a migraine. I have seen true sufferers and some dramatizations. Either way, mine I now believe and have drastically progressed in the last two years. I eventually, after many attempts of at home treatments doctor recommended, gave in and went to the emergency room for IV medications, also doctor recommended. That helped ease it a bit but within days it roared its ugly head more so than the dull ache I still had after the IV. Since then some days are dull and some days are debilitating, more often the latter. The heat certainly doesn't help.


There are so many triggers for a migraine and everyone has a different experience or reaction. I, myself, had no idea what my triggers were due to my denial of migraines existing. This was a test-in-the making that hit like a brick wall. I tried hydrating. I tried rest in a dark room, which actually helps me at least rest a little more comfortably. I knew my eye glass prescription was old because I was always squinting so I went to an ophthalmologist.  I need him more than an optometrist because he can check for diabetes complications of the eye, more specifically retinopathy. Luckily, I am good in that department. My prescription did change just a bit, but he also recognized some rigidity in my lenses. See, your eyes have lenses that are flexible so you can look far away and then look down at your phone or a book and your lenses adjust as you change your perception. Mine doesn't move that quickly. As a 31 year old woman, I need bifocals or trifocals for the no line lenses. I prefer to use glasses as opposed to contacts because I take them off throughout the day pretty often. It is also less maintenance in my opinion. Back to triggers, I tried cutting out foods I felt affected me. Lotions, laundry detergent, air fresheners as well because the smells can be a trigger. I avoid the sun. I consciously try not to squint or move too quickly. I try to keep my neck and back in the least taxing positions or movements. It seems like they are all triggers, including stress.


My neurologist has been seeing me frequently throughout the summer to try to get ahold of this unbreakable trend. At first she thought that we possibly went down on a medication, in an attempt to slowly change to a new medication seizure-wise, too quickly which can upset your nerves. A slight adjustment here, a slight adjustment there. That did not break this chronic migraine. We attempted emergency type medications. We moved on to some injectable medications because we thought absorption had been a factor, could still be. None of which seemed to help. Actually, the injectable gave me a rare side effect of severe drops in my blood sugar. Leave it to my body to head to the rarity and the blood sugar factor in a diabetic is not good. At my last appointment we agreed on a new approach, Botox, but she also told me some news I had and have trouble dealing with emotionally and physically.


In New Mexico I had been given "life timelines" several times. I had also been told I have an autonomic nervous system disorder. I always beat my "timelines" and will continue to break barriers. It did hit me a little harder this time around. I think I had myself on cloud nine and was in denial a bit. I was so glad to be in a new place with more food and life options, and I believed the stimulator's help with food intake would help my whole body. I still believe it is because it is blatantly obvious in terms of energy and symptoms due to gastroparesis. Hearing a "timeline" now knocked me down. Granted, hers was much longer than any previous and vague. It is bugging me a bit still, but I know my determination and tenacity. She has been talking about neuropathy over the last year, but never referring to it as "diabetic neuropathy". She explained to my husband that my neuropathy would cause personality changes, memory loss, and more that I cannot remember, but I can't totally contribute it to what she said. At this last appointment focused on my migraines and seizures, I brought up the fact that I have noticed some symptoms I couldn't explain.


For years, really around the time I got diabetes, I have had numbness and tingling in my extremities. When I would mention it, doctors and nutritionist would brush it off, saying it was too early in the disease to have diabetic neuropathy. In addition, my blood sugar control was too tight to allow the damage. Lately my balance is off. I do yoga about three times a week and am suddenly unable to do moves I have always conquered. That is frustrating and a little alarming. I have also been noticing more memory loss and trouble comprehending things I never struggled with before. Additionally, at the ER I had trouble doing the neurological exercises they often use for neurology patients. Days before, in a discussion with my husband, I was trying to count to four on my fingers. For some reason my hand was not cooperating. He had to physically move my fingers to show four. I felt silly about it all, but she was very serious. She explained that the neuropathy I have is an autonomic nervous system disorder and it is called peripheral neuropathy. This is not diabetic neuropathy, although I am at risk for that as well. Let's compare them along with fibromyalgia as well as I can with my limited knowledge.


Peripheral neuropathy affects the entire nervous system. It can be connected to diabetes, but mine was triggered at the on-set of diabetes or before. We believe before because pain and fatigue have been an issue for me for over a decade. It can be caused by many different factors which make it hard to pin point. Some of them include autoimmune diseases (I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's thyroiditis when I was 13, then the snowball began), diabetes, medications, alcoholism, trauma, pressure on a nerve, tumors, infections, vitamin deficiencies, hypothyroid, and connective tissue diseases. Many of which I have or had come across throughout my life. Determining the cause is not as important as trying to manage it. The damaged nerves can cause numbness, weakness, and pain throughout the body. The nerves in the peripheral nervous system or central nervous system send messages from the brain and spinal cord to all other parts of your body and back again. It can affect sensory nerves that receive messages like pain, heat, or even touch. It can affect your autonomic nervous system controlling most of the smooth muscles such as those involved with breathing, heart rate, as well as digestion. It can also affect motor nerves controlling how your muscles move. This will cause a wide range of symptoms. Mine include pain, weakness, fatigue, digestion problems, blood pressure and heart rate (mine are super low), lack of coordination, intolerance to hot or cold temperatures, and sensitivity to touch. These symptoms wax and wane, but reading my posts throughout gives you a good idea of the constant symptoms. Mine happens to be polyneuropathy meaning it affects more than one nerve.


Diabetic neuropathy is usually caused by high blood sugars over time. These blood sugars damage the nerves. Most commonly, it affects hands and feet. This cause pain and/or numbness. It can move on to other parts of the body such as the digestive tract, causing gastroparesis, bowel problems, urinary tract problems, and even move onto the heart, sometimes fatal. It can be avoided by managing blood sugars tightly. Some diabetics never suffer nerve damage.


Fibromyalgia can also be set off by trauma or infections and can be genetic. Researchers believe repeated nerve stimulation causes changes of chemicals in the brain. The abnormal increases in these chemicals may signal pain. This can also cause the brain to make a memory of pain signals often causing the body to be more sensitive to pain. Again, symptoms are similar to peripheral neuropathy, yet there is no damage to the nerves, only sensitivity. Women are more commonly affected. It can be genetic or related to a rheumatic disease, such as lupus or rheumatoid arthritis. Complications are usually lack of sleep due to pain, frustration, depression and anxiety from a misunderstood condition, and trouble focusing or completing tasks. It is often referred to as "fibro fog". So, you can see the connection with all three conditions.


It is certain that mine is peripheral neuropathy. That terrifies me. There is nothing they can do about it. Some medications manage the pain, tingling, or burning. I certainly do not expect a magic pill to fix all. I would prefer to not take any medications at all! She did some routine exercises in her office as well. I realized many of the tests I previously completed with little or no difficulty, I suddenly had trouble completing. In fact, on a funny note...or funny to me, I will absolutely fail a field sobriety check if ever pulled over for suspicion of DUI (I do not drink and haven't had the experience). I tried and tried to walk a straight line, one foot in front of the other, and stumble time and time again until she just moved me on to something else. I walk with a different gait than most people. I am not pigeon toed and have never had an unusual gait before. Now, I walk with my feet in a "V" shape. That, she explained, is unknowingly trying to keep balance. The memory and comprehension are just bonuses. Again, she repeated there is nothing she can do but monitor it. It will only progress.


At this point it is important to stay alert to the symptoms. Because I am struggling with recognizing symptoms and they are only progressing she suggested a caretaker. There is no need for a live-in caretaker or even a 24 hour caretaker. I just need someone to check in with me and be available for the tough days or emergencies. I am often alone with my son so he has been taught who to call, how, and when. He will not be subjected to being my caretaker. He is a kid who needs to be a kid. I am sad he has to witness and live this volatile life with me. It has its bonuses, however.


He is wise beyond his years. He is compassionate, empathetic, and caring. He is sensitive, which can cause problems especially for a child who is eight years old. He actually comes home from school with his feelings hurt by something a peer said or did during the day. He can't understand how they can be so mean. He can't understand why they do so many things they do. It is just not in his realm of comprehension. It is amazing how he thinks about the world. He can teach us so much. He sees the world in such a magical way.


I saw my primary care physician just today. I lost weight, which makes me mad. I have been eating plenty. With the summer heat I have been enjoying vegan ice cream on a very regular basis as well as these giant soft, gluten free, vegan chocolate chip cookies. Both have always been a weakness my entire life and now I have found them in my diet allowances. Woohoo. I cannot believe I am still struggling with weight. An issue many people would love to have, but not to the point of being underweight. Believe it or not, under weight people feel similar self consciousness as over weight people. My primary is concerned about my heart rate and blood pressure. I am now instructed to monitor my blood pressure and heart rate much like I do my blood sugars. I have been having these rushes of faintness. I have not lost consciousness completely and I am glad for that advantage. This comes with cold sweats and anxiety or panic. I think my blood sugar is low because the symptoms are similar, but when I check it is fine. She believes this is a result of low blood pressure, and the symptoms come on so quickly because my blood pressure has dropped quickly. I have been worried it may trigger a seizure. Luckily that has not been the case. She said there is a few medications that can help raise blood pressure, but I would like to avoid additional medications. She still suggested what she called " a benign" medication meaning less side effects. We will see how this turns out. I pray no medication is needed and lifestyle changes can possibly help.


With all this I have been so overwhelmed. The fear of what my body is doing on the inside. So many what if's. I have relaxed a great deal just having a tangible reason for what is happening. The what if's are lessening knowing that there is no concrete path. Everyone is affected differently. A doctor is only as smart as the information they have learned. The body is so much more complicated. The body knows itself better than any doctor. As I mentioned earlier, I have broken barriers doctors said would not happen. I have a determination to move forward. I see no reason why I should be concerned about leaving this earth when I know all of us only get so many trips around the sun. Enjoy the sun while we have it, right? My mission drove me to pistachios, ice cream, and puffs which are similar to Cheetos puffs (my old fave). My stomach can only fit so much as anyone else's, so work with what we got. Food, sometimes, is a fix all. The management will continue and life goes on. Focus on life not the management of the unmentionables. I need to give the diseases a collective name like......Bertha, and only refer to them as that name. "Bertha is on fire today" or "Bertha has been out of sight for a while" or "eh, Bertha has crashed my party" or happily "I beat Bertha to the punch today". Yep, from now on. Make light of things. Laughter is the best medicine. That and distraction. Loving it.


I do want to stress that this blog is not only about me. I share the information I know and my experiences. This blog is to connect with people. It is for me to gain knowledge from others. It is to share our experiences and learn. It is a place to be vulnerable yet vindicated. It is therapeutic for me. I don't share a lot of information vocally, but can lay it all out here. I don't have a road map for life. This is where I help guide my thoughts and actions. It is meant to bring joy and be open to new perspectives. I certainly do not want or mean to be a downer and believe me when I say I am happy overall. I have a great support system. I laugh and enjoy my son, music, and sports (yay football season, basketball soon to come). Everyone gets down. Everyone gets worrisome news. Life is about surfing the wave.

My Belly's First Birthday

July 30, 2013 I was admitted to Texas Health Resources Presbyterian Hospital at 7:00am to prep for the surgery to implant an Enterra Gastric Stimulator. As many of my readers know, a gastric stimulator is a device that is placed in a subcutaneous tissue pocket, meaning just below the skin before you reach muscle tissue. There are leads attached to the device that are then lead through the abdominal wall to the stomach. There is an endoscope in your stomach, that is blown up like a balloon, that shines a bright light as well as allowing a second surgeon to see the inside of the stomach. The leads are placed in the stomach lining but cannot perforate the lining. That's where the bright light and scope from the endoscopy come into play. The light allows the surgeon placing the leads to see the stomach and lining more clearly, whereas the scope and light allow the second surgeon to insure the leads do not puncture the lining. Once the device and leads are in place they turn on the device. Much like a pace maker helps the heart beat, a gastric stimulator helps the stomach pump. The two main differences are that the stimulator does not make rhythmic motion in the stomach. The pace maker warrants the heart to stay as rhythmic as possible. Also, the stimulator is considered a humanitarian device while the pace maker is deemed a treatment approved by the FDA.


The FDA puts everything food and drug related in categories. We will not discuss the food aspect here. The FDA guidelines for a manufacturer to put in an application for their drug or device to be an actual treatment says it is required to contain the results of scientifically valid clinical investigations demonstrating that the device is effective for its intended purpose. It must also show that the benefits outweigh the risks. From the FDA:

An Humanitarian Use Device (HUD) is a device that is intended to benefit patients by treating or diagnosing a disease or condition that affects or is manifested in fewer than 4,000 individuals in the United States per year. A device manufacturer`s research and development costs could exceed its market returns for diseases or conditions affecting small patient populations. The HUD provision of the regulation provides an incentive for the development of devices for use in the treatment or diagnosis of diseases affecting these populations.

Which, in laymen's terms according to all specialists I have seen, means the humanitarian devices are to improve quality of life for rare, treatment resistant diseases. Due to lack of patients in need of the humanitarian device it is difficult to prove through clinical trials that it works for its intended purpose. Beyond that, with the gastric stimulator in particular, they do not know how it works only that it does. Those are words straight from the manufacturer, the FDA down to the doctors and surgeons. In my opinion, I don't care if you understand all the components. If it will allow me to eat, spend more time with family, and most importantly, be here for the most amazing son in the world (I am not biased).

I remember be terrified and elated on this day. My parents and mother-in-law were in town. I have a lot of extended family in DFW. I was surrounded with love. The hospital staff and surgeons were anxious as well. I am sure they were hiding their nerves because they had not done the procedure before and couldn't predict an outcome. I know they felt I was a great candidate and a good patient. I remember laying in the hospital bed with chaos all around. I had to be fasting for 48-72 hours because food stays in my belly so long. If I never see yellow Gatorade, lime Jell-O, or lemon-lime soda again I will die happy. Good luck on that one, Lauren. I was so anxious to be able to eat and possibly have solid food. The chaos never stopped throughout the day and night.

July 31, 2013 they wheeled me down to the in-patient surgery area bright and early at 7:00am. They, again, went through all the information with me. I was told what their expectations were, but reminded that not everything is known. Before 9:00am I was fast asleep. My family was waiting in the waiting area. I am sure they were wracked with nerves and emotions they cannot describe. The next thing I remember is waking up in incredible pain. A pain I cannot only compare to child birth, and it is a close race. Fire inside my belly. Not heartburn fire, roasting chestnuts fire. I instinctively cried out in pain, still not even realizing where I was and what I had just gone through. A nurse ran in, asked me how I felt, and immediately starting messing with all the wires, IVs and what have you. I don't remember anything again until opening my eyes and my husband was next to me holding my hand. He softly asked how I was and my reply will follow me for life. By then I had realized what was going on so I was happy, but in pain. I said, "Like I got hit by a truck.....a good truck". And the was my first laugh.

Recovery has taken this whole year and we are still working out some kinks. I feel things more frequently now because I am in better health so it is no longer this continuous painful, bloated, nauseated, etc. stomach. And with the options a little more open in terms a diet I have gained some strength so my frail body is easier to live with. The doctors here are managing my diseases as a whole with a much better approach than I have had in years past. I am a person. I am a patient. I am Lauren. I no longer feel like an object, a prize, a puzzle, a hypochondriac, or a lost cause. As I am writing this, I am hungry and it is 3:00pm in the afternoon. You have no idea how amazing that is...even to feel your stomach growl.

I have learned so much in the past several years. This year, of course, has enlightened me so much more. When things started getting bad I was almost done with college, had a toddler, and was working full time. My son was at daycare nearly 10 hours a day. I am a full steam ahead type person. I was discouraged to admit I need to slow down and be near a larger support group, but reluctantly moved back home. I still worked full time, did my classes through distance-learning, and had my son at a baby-sitter's. It was just a smaller town, very short commute, and I had family around to help me out when my husband was at work. Within three months I was at the Mayo Clinic and applying for disability. That in itself is an awakening and one of the most difficult things I have even gone through in my life. I struggled with accepting the rest I was prescribed along with the help I had. I wanted to work. I crave learning. I didn't know anything else...until my disability got approved 18 months later.

My idol mind had drawn me back to a part time job. I wasn't doing as well as I thought and struggled to make it through. I am a stubborn and active person so I wouldn't admit that to anyone. Suddenly, I had an opportunity to, guilt-free, stay home. I had succumbed to the idea of putting school on hold. I don't care how long it takes, I will finish those degrees even if I am 90 years old by then. So in the blink of an eye I was being paid to take care of my own child. He was almost four by then. I quickly realized all the minute things you miss when you are so busy. I got to know him in such a different way and my parenting views shifted. Call me old-fashioned, but I realize why gender roles have always been important. I have nothing against hard working women and working moms, but I am so thankful I get to be with my son without the distraction of work. As time went by I started to notice some other parts of the American culture I never saw objectively.

No wonder my body was a mess by the time I got to the Mayo Clinic. It's amazing that the entire country hasn't just collapsed at some point in life. There is so much competition for success. Success is seen as money, education, job status. Family values and dynamics have shifted so much. Obesity and disease is running ramped. People are stretching themselves too thin. I was for sure. Starting from the time we all come out of the womb the competition and over-scheduling starts. You have to have the best day-care, the best clothes, the best pre-school. Then, you get into sports or "extra curricular" activities, whatever that may be for a child not yet in school. School starts and the parents push the child to hit the ground running. If the parents aren't using all of these things as a baby-sitter for their child, they are deciding for their child what the child likes or wants to do. And the snow ball continues.

I was at a basketball game for my son this past Sunday and over heard a conversation between one mom and another child's dad. The dad seemed very neutral but the mom talking to him was so righteous. She was talking about what her son had been doing all summer and what "their" plans were for the school year. These children are eight-years-old or younger, mind you. I was exhausted by all she had signed her child up for just hearing it. "He is doing basketball. I put him in a swimming/tennis camp. He did soccer earlier in the summer..." the conversation continued behind me with me only catching bits and pieces because I was actually watching the game. I heard her once say, "He hasn't had time to read all summer so that will hurt him when school starts. I am going to sign him up for piano lessons as well. If you don't keep the kids busy, by the time they are in high school they only get into trouble...." At that point I quit listening. What happened to a child being a child?

I started thinking about it myself. I often think back to my life pre-disability and post and my different perspectives in each life. I would love to have finished school and be working in the field full on, but not more than I love raising my son without a middle man. School is so important. These children are young and still adapting to school. Why, then, add all these extra obligations for such a young person. Adults over schedule themselves. They deprive their bodies of healthy food and sleep often times, just to keep up with their hectic schedules. Then, they have kids and need to have the best child so they push and push and push. My thought is the little boy who is her son is going to put his foot down in middle or high school and hate one or all of the things she has him in now. He may resent her from not allowing him to make his own decisions. Children are little people, not an object you show off while you sculpt it into what you would have liked to been or what you think others will envy. Keep in mind, all of these statements are my personal opinion. I am generalizing. I know that not all kids want to have more free time and that not all parents makes these decisions selfishly. I just feel over-whelmed by the expectations so I imagine the kids are as well.

When I was a kid, life was much different. It was a different time. But we rode bikes, went swimming, played anything and everything outside. We used our imaginations and had limited options for TV and video games so they never took over. We asked our parents to sign us up for this sport or that or piano lessons or guitar. We were still pushed. We still rebelled against decisions our parents made for us as soon we had an independent mind to do it. It just didn't seem so competitive as I life can never slow down and down time needs to be earned.

I enjoy the life I live now. I enjoy being a stay-at-home mom. I can't imagine what I would have never seen had I continued to rush through life. Everyone is different and some of us may like the fast paced, over scheduled lifestyle. Some women these days choose a career over parenthood. I actually admire those women so much. To be thoughtful enough to know that you care about your career and a child just isn't practical. That is the most selfless act. Do not bring anything into your life that conflicts with the life you laid out for yourself. The single mom who has no choice but to use day-care, school, and sports in order to have the time to work for the family is also an amazing being to me. The parents who are able bodied and both working, but attend anything and everything to support their kids. The parents who allow school to be the child's priority and listens to their child when deciding on extra-curricular activities. I truly believe the most successful people were allowed to lay their own path, but with the guidance of a parent.

I feel as though I am getting a bit preachy. In short, I just wish the competitive nature we live in is a bit much. I feel like we do not allow ourselves to decompress. Everyone should have that time. Working, not working, sick, healthy, rich, poor should never live to work. Work to live and love those you care so deeply about. Take the downtime. Fight for downtime. No one should rush through life missing the beautiful scenery along the way. The more we love, the more love we receive. In any person's last day I seriously doubt they will say, "I wish I had taken that extra meeting in 2004..."
If you have never been close to losing something you have taken for granted all these years, I hope you take a step back. Take a moment to re-evaluate and decide what you could not live without. Those things should become first in life and the rest can trickle down.

I have gained weight. I can eat out. I can eat. My hair is growing. My nails grow. My skin is no longer transparent. My eyes are no longer sunken in. My clothes (as my cousin Mallory so nicely told me) no longer look like they are on a hanger when I am wearing them. The sun shines every day. I wake up everyday. My sister is my rock and here for me 'til the end of time. I live in a place that makes me feel less foreign, just a rarity. I am not judged (or I don't hear it anyway hehe) or pointed at or shoved off. I am Lauren. I made it to 31 years young. I have a new birthday for my new life. I am one and so thankful to say that. I thank all of you who love me. I thank all of my readers who support me or learn from my experiences. I thank God for the journey. I just have no words to really describe how I feel.

Live your life. Love your life. Never live up to anyone's expectations but your own. Take time to really embrace the most important things in your life.

Mountains Climbed

Nine Months has gone by since my new life began. I have proudly called it my second birthday many times and truly mean it. July 31, 2013 I got an Enterra gastric stimulator implanted. A device that has forever changed my life. I had been suffering a severe case of gastroparesis that was not responding to treatment. I went from a slim frame to a skeletal frame, losing more than 30 total pounds throughout the course of the disease. It was recommended for the umpteenth time that I go to Johns Hopkins University Medical Center. After a consultation in my hometown for a feeding tube determined my comorbidities would be exacerbated, even life threatening with forced nutrition, the surgeon had an 'out-of-the-box' idea I had never heard. Leaving that appointment with little information other than an "We'll be in touch after some research..." I was devastated. I had been weakening and weakening physically, but more so emotionally. A week later, a doctor had been chosen in Dallas, TX they were sure could help. But I also had to go to Johns Hopkins in a last ditch effort to save my life.


Within a month of the consultation with the feeding tube surgeon, we were on our way to Dallas to meet this amazing doctor. That very first appointment, he made a clear decision that my only hope was the gastric stimulator and I had plenty of history to show I was a great candidate. Not only do the physical ailments have to be there for medical devices such as these, but mental state plays a big roll. They do not want to implant a device or even attach any device to a patient who is not going to follow what is necessary for the device to work. For example, an insulin pump patient (which I also have due to Type I Diabetes) goes through the same mental test, insuring the patient has the right mindset to have a device attached to them 24 hours a day. You'd be amazed at what these things effect in daily life. He needed to be sure I understood everything. The device is implanted in a subcutaneous pouch in the abdomen (made by the surgeon) and leads attached to the device are guided through the abdominal muscles into the lining of the stomach. Recovery time and full effectiveness usually take about a year. You do see the device bulge out under the skin and you have to learn to adjust you movements accordingly. The battery lasts about five to ten years. At that time it is determined if a new one can/should be implanted. While explaining this he monitored my reaction and comprehension to determine if I was a candidate. Thank God it turned out positively for me. He then needed ammunition for the insurance to agree with his findings.


This time last year I was going through some brutal testing to prove to my insurance company why I was a candidate for such rare treatment. It actually isn't even considered treatment. The FDA classifies it as a humanitarian device, which simply means it improves quality of life but does not treat or correct a problem. That is why so much is needed for the insurance companies to even consider it. I was taken off my motility medications as well as my digestive enzymes and ulcer preventative medication. I take digestive enzymes because my body absolutely does not produce them. The ulcer preventative is due to Pernicious Anemia in which the inner lining of my stomach is eaten away by my immune system as well as having an alkaline environment as opposed to a normal pH level in the stomach or an acidic much like a GERD patient may have. The alkaline state is just as dangerous, if not more, than an acidic state in the stomach. I also have Celiac Disease in which the immune system is attacking the lining of the small intestine when gluten is in your system. That all being said, you can imagine I was incredibly uncomfortable. The process took about two weeks. I had endoscopies, gastric emptying studies, MRIs, CT scans, and I even swallowed a pill with a camera and other scanning properties that traveled throughout my digestive system giving a better look at what was going on inside. That in itself was the most difficult yet interesting one of them all. I was finally told the doctor had enough ammo and I was free to return home, but it was also necessary to be seen at Johns Hopkins to solidify it all and be sure every stone had been uncovered.


Once I returned home from Texas, I had six days to prepare for my trip to the scariest place I had ever gone. I had been seen at the Mayo Clinic in 2008 following through to the beginning of 2009 (not continuous). I was terrified then. Now to be sent to an equivalent or an even more progressive facility really puts mortality in front of your face. Luckily, I had my husband and my son along as well as an amazing aunt and cousin who flew out to Baltimore just to support me. That will never be forgotten- all the support. My sister even set up a donation account to help with travel and medical expenses. I was blown away by all the love. A quick trip into the doctor's office at Johns Hopkins lead to a few minor in-office tests all coming out as expected. This gave the doctor the ok to agree with the opinion of the previous two doctors I had seen regarding the need for the gastric stimulator; if for nothing else but the increased caloric allotment. The only stipulation, we had to move to the Dallas/ Fort Worth area to be closely monitored for life. I had never lived outside of New Mexico other than the two years of back and forth to California when my dad was alive. A move that was absolutely not planned had to be made within six weeks.


A feat I thought was impossible slowly began to play itself out. Years and years of pain and suffering with little to no answers in terms of relief- just diagnosis after diagnosis with treatments but relief was hardly part of the equation. My prayers for respite had been answered, loudly. But as those moments of change began, all I could think was the world was moving too quickly. Again, with the incredible support of my sister and extended family we found a place to live that fit all of our requirements. With the help of my parents we were packed and ready to go within those six weeks. My husband had to stay behind to continue working until logistics got worked out. Thankfully, he was only there three weeks before he could join us. He made his move two days before the beginning of this new life. All the while I was wasting away even quicker because life had gotten away from me. I couldn't believe it all fell into place so easily yet so inconceivably.


Entering the hospital, I was down to 80 such pounds. I did not ask the exact number. I had to fast as you normally do with most procedures involving anesthesia. I have had to fast so much in recent years, I will be glad to never see lemon-lime soda or Gatorade as well as lemon or lime Jello. The next day, all I remember was being excited to finally get the stimulator and then, waking up. I woke up in incredible pain as if a fire had been started in my abdomen and nothing was there to stop it. I am not talking heartburn type fire, I am talking roasting-chestnuts and accidently falling in the fire. A nurse immediately came to the rescue with pain relief pushed into my IV. My husband was allowed to see me shortly after that and I remember him asking how I felt. I said, "Like I have been hit by a truck....but a good truck!" He must have passed that along because that phrase has followed me since and I love it.


Those first few days were difficult. I was expecting or strongly hoping I would be able to eat right away. I actually could only handle smoothies but quickly moved on to tiny doses of pizza and French fries. What else would you chose after not being able to eat solid food for so long? I thought life was going to be better, but that I was going to be weakened and forever changed by the surgery. The timeline was given to me, a year towards recovery and full effectiveness. As the year passes, I have reached many milestones, but in the back of my mind every month I think "Look what this has done for you. This is the best it can be." I am proven wrong time and time again.


I recently have reached milestones I have dreamed about for years. You may get tired of blog post after post talking about the unthinkables I have reached, but that's the reality of my journey. And isn't that incredible? For the first time in two to three years I was able to put jeans on with little to no discomfort this past weekend. Previously the waistband and button that have no give would only cause pain to my constantly full and distended belly. Then, in the past nine months, I would try jeans on every now and then, but it would still cause pain, only now it was the device sight and the belly discomfort. I have saved my favorite pairs of jeans out of hope of one day wearing them. As I was doing laundry on Saturday they caught my eye while putting away my normal attire of yoga pants. I stopped in my tracks and decided to try them on. I put on a loose pair first and they felt alright so I moved on to my favorite pair. They felt fine. I squatted, I bent, I twisted, I sat...and no usual pain.

The pain at the site had now turned into just slight discomfort. That's normal with jeans considering none of us ever find the perfect fit. I danced around with my son for a little while and the jeans still felt alright. I made him take a picture out of sheer glee. I have not challenged myself to wearing them all day, but I will get there. I felt so accomplished, my mind has been reeling about what else I may be able to do. This morning a challenge was calling my name.


I usually rotate walking and yoga for exercise about five to six times a week. It's a great time for centering myself. My walks includes my little dog Chewy. He is a Dachshund/ Chihuahua mix, that's what I mean by little. This morning I took him for our usual walk at a walking trail at the college across the street. It's a one mile loop and we normally do two. Today, as I normally do, I saw a few joggers along the loop. I used to be a long distance runner so that itch is always there. I haven't been able to run for at least two and a half years or more. Today I thought "could I run a mile? I could try....but stop if it doesn't feel right. Stop." So, I had this little discussion in my head the whole time I was on my walk. Chewy couldn't run with me for certain so I walked him home. I told my husband what I was going to try and he was reluctantly excited. I went across that street, I got on that path, and I ran. I thought I would surely wimp out a few steps in, but my body just fell into natural motion. I didn't get out of breath. I didn't push myself. I just ran a mile. I felt ecstatic. I walked home feeling more powerful and accomplished than I had in years all the while knowing this incredible device is helping me climb mountains.


Not only have I been able to do these things; eat more solid food, go to restaurants, wear jeans, run again, even build strength with yoga not just maintain the little I had; but my heart and mind have grown exponentially too. Years and years of day in and day out malaise is so exhausting. Imagine waking up feeling like you have the flu everyday, but you still have the same responsibilities and expectations on you as any other person in the world. You put on your best face and muddle through the best you can. Every now and then a burst of energy comes and, a phenomenon described by doctors, you go into this manic state, trying to accomplish as much as you can while the energy is there. So, I may be glued to the bed one day and the next day a little feeling of increased energy has me rushing to the store, cleaning the bathroom, washing dishes, vacuuming, etc. until the energy fades. You crash and burn then pay for the overexertion for a few days thereafter. Now, I often still feel puny, achy, nauseated, flu-like but it has lightened up enough for me to notice. I sleep through the night sometimes feeling refreshed in the morning. All in all, the humanitarian device has done exactly what it is intended to do.


The thought I'd like to spread to the world is open your eyes to the world, don't focus on the daily grind. When I stop to write my blog or in my journal at night, I am often tired and in need of a release. As I go about my writings I start to uncover all the little jewels I missed throughout the day, the week, the month. This makes me turn to my son and see how far he has come. Not a day has gone by with him on this earth, that I have not seen a miracle up close and personal. But to know he has lived his entire life with a sick mother only speaks volumes to who he is today. At such a young age he has more compassion, wisdom, and intelligence than I see in the average adult. He challenges me intellectually on a daily basis. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in responsibilities I forget to slow down to embrace him fully. When I open my eyes, I see the glory of the world. I see how amazing he is. I see how beautiful the trees and the sky are. I feel all the improvements in my body. I see lights at the end of the tunnels when physical ailments overcome me. These mountains I have climbed will be in clear view for years to come.


I will actively continue and strive to keep my eyes wide open. The happiness I have felt these past few weeks is close to the elation I felt the day my son was born and the day I got married. How can the unimaginable continue to happen only to remind you how grand life can be?

Lesson Learned- Competitive Bidding Program

Moving is always an adventure. Most of us loathe the process, but enjoy the change. Moving to a new state entirely for the first time in your life while you are ill and receiving new technology in treatment is more than an adventure. I am but a sad New Mexican who is ignorant to how the world outside of New Mexico works. The Federal part of our wonderful country is a layman's understanding as well as the history for myself. But New Mexico is like a small town that runs at a very low speed and is off the beaten track.


Along this first year in Texas, I have been through my share of awakenings. In the short five or six weeks I had before having my gastric stimulator implanted, I had to move in, familiarize myself with the area, get address changes for everything under the sun, switch my son's insurance, and do all the preliminary stuff for the surgery. I thought all that was hard. I thought all I had to do is get acquainted with new doctors and get a new driver's license. Boy, was I wrong.


Doctor's alone have kept me on my toes. Of course there are several and frequent appointments for my stimulator. The first year of recovery and calibrations is tough. I also have had to establish with a neurologist, an endocrinologist, a dermatologist, and a rheumatologist. If you have read some of my previous posts you will know that a rheumatologist is no longer necessary as the symptoms seem to be a latent version of adrenal insufficiency that has been difficult to pinpoint. I am still needing a urologist for interstitial cystitis and an ophthalmologist, but the task seems so daunting at the moment I have procrastinated greatly. Unfortunately, it seems as though my primary care doctor needs to be replaced. That's a topic for another post, but let's just say she's not the best with being thorough or with her bedside manner.


I am on Medicare so none of this is easy. Less doctors in Texas take Medicare so it was like finding a needle in a haystack just for the doctors and services I need. I have changed prescription drug plans three times. Recently, I ran into a new road block. This story has plenty of twists and turns. Are you ready?


Back in early November, an 18-wheeler somehow came into our apartment complex and smashed our mail center. It is just a gazebo with the mail boxes all around. Supposedly his GPS took him the wrong way, but any logical person would know not to turn into an apartment complex in an 18-wheeler. Needless to say, every one's mail was in there. The apartment management had no real answers for us other than, "You can now pick your mail up at the post office until the insurance can get us a new mail center." What about the mail that was in our boxes at the time? A mystery yet to be solved. Here we are at the beginning of April and we are still picking up our mail at the post office.


I had been running low on pump supplies for a few weeks now and I had not received any word about my automatic shipments like I usually do. Medicare makes you go through a third-party supplier and they usually send me an email the day it is shipped. I finally called them. I was informed that Medicare is no longer contracted with them. They have switched to a "Competitive Bidders' Market" in our area. I was advised to call Medicare to move forward because I should have received a notice back in October or November. Do you see where this is going?


Just a few months earlier, I had been working with my doctor's office on getting a new pump supply prescription because mine had expired. We began the process in late September, but the back and forth was finally done with in November. I received everything I needed. Now, switching over to a new supplier meant getting a new prescription. I knew this would be a potentially long process, but gritted my teeth and pushed through, step by step getting increasingly more frustrated. I couldn't get my old supplier to send out complimentary supplies to get me through. They could not transfer the old prescription; don't ask me why because they gave me an answer that makes absolutely no sense as most things in the medical field do. The manufacturer somehow had no record of me since 2011. Well Medtronic, I bought a new pump in 2012 that you sold me, I have been receiving supplies since than that the third-party gets from you, and finally I have an Enterra gastric stimulator implanted in my abdomen that you all made and registered for me eight months ago. (Everybody clap your hands for eight productive months) They also refused to send out some "hold-me-over" supplies all due to the fact that no one has a "current" prescription except the supplier who no longer supplies me. Aaahh


I start putting one foot in front of the other to begin the long process of finding a new third-party supplier. When I called Medicare they gave me three phone numbers of three different suppliers. The first two did not supply pump supplies. Check them off. The third said they did. Yay....they began the registration and started the paperwork right away to get me squared away. It took only a week of back and forth confusion this time to get the new prescription done. I finally received my supplies last Friday, and they were the wrong supplies.
It was a generic brand of supplies that claimed it works for all pump models including...and it gave a list of manufacturers and models. My model was not on the list. Next step, call the manufacturer to see if the generic is even possible. There is a high likelihood that the pieces do not fit my model and may possibly crack it. I turned back to the supplier. Suddenly, no one was available in the pump department to service my call that day so I left a message. That felt odd. I did tons of research on the Internet, because where else do you turn for honest information (haha). I kept coming across the same information the manufacturer had given me. Nothing can be done on a weekend so I tried to block it out until Monday. I did contact my NM diabetic educator to ask for supplies because no office here has them on hand. I also contacted my sister who has a similar model of pump. Both are doing what they can to help with supplies until I have this straightened out. I finally gave in and paid cash for supplies to give me a bit of a cushion. Stockpile baby, stockpile. Then I get a call saying they will not ship out supplies because I am a Medicare patient who needs to go through a third-party supplier with a prescription.


On Monday I called the third-party supplier, All American Medical, and notified them of the mistake. I was informed they do not supply my particular needs. Back to Medicare I go. I got two phone numbers for the "Competitive Bidders' Program". Surprise, surprise. These suppliers do not supply pump supplies. At this point I am thinking, "this competitive-bidding program is definitely not organized or handled well". When I was waiting on hold for the umpteenth time with Medicare, I decided to go online to see if I could pull up some names for this "Competitive Bidders' Program". Thank the Lord, I did. 17 were listed for my zip code so I went straight down the list. I called everyone of them I could and was very specific about the supplies I needed for my particular pump. About five businesses in, I found one. They only supply Medtronic pump supplies. Phew. Now, I await the aligning of the third-party and my doctor's office. This time I talked to my doctor's nurse and drilled into her what I need the prescription to say so I can leave this trouble behind as quickly as possible. By this time, I believe she feels the same.


Little by little, you learn how to navigate the world. New Mexico is not in the "Competitive Bidders' Market" so I had never dealt with this. Apparently, the program is new across the board but some states do not fall into it. After ripping my hair out, losing my cool with every single person I talked to, and spending all weekend trouble shooting with my family's help, I now know exactly what to ask when dealing with Medicare and third-party suppliers. I also know that screaming does not help a thing. As if at the ripe ol' age of 31 I didn't know that, but, ya know, long term stress can manifest an entire person you do not recognize. Luckily, the beast in me is only in view sparingly and this year I am releasing all demons so soon I can be the me I have always known....or possibly, quite possibly, a better me.
I am noticing more energy. I am noticing a more nourished look throughout my body. I am noticing a lighter heart. The volunteering, church, my son's school and teacher, and enjoying our new surroundings has really started to bring to light the me I used to know and embrace. Being so ill everyday can wear on you and most of us feel a great deal of guilt, inadequacy, and grief when going through a change like a diagnosis of a new disease along with its symptoms. Sometimes we get lost in it all and forget who we really are or think because the disease has caused limitations that somehow limits our personality or self worth. This healing process and recovery from what I have been through these past few years including the gastric stimulator implant has been a long road, but proving to be worth it. Lessons learned, wisdom gained, strength and resilience abound and a new heart and mind rise from the ashes made by the bridges of our "old" selves burned like the Phoenix.
That was a bit off track, but the lesson of "no matter how many times I think I've got it covered" i.e. my insulin pump supplies and Medicare, there is always a wrench coming in, eh hem "Competitive Bidders' Program", to teach you a new lesson. Along the way more layers of yourself are pulled back to open up a new part of you.
I certainly don't mean this post to come across like I am worse off than anyone else or that I have seen more pain than others. I know that is not the case by any stretch. I just realize everyday that I have not seen every struggle or I would know how to face them more appropriately.
Never stop learning....just try to stay level headed unlike I did.