Hello Again

Hello out there. Since it’s been so long since I’ve posted, I'm not sure where to start, so I’ll start at “Hello.”

Sorry for the silence here the last two months. My condition took a sharp turn about a month and a half ago and I’ve spent most of my days since just surviving.

I haven’t been doing well the last few months. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in four months. Sometimes I only sleep 2 hours a night. Sleeping and breathing at the same time is not really a thing my body is able to do anymore and that is the main culprit of my insomnia, although it’s not the only reason. But there’s good news on that front (I discuss more below).

Since I haven’t been sleeping well, the weakness in my limbs has turned to paralysis. Not having use of my limbs makes typing really challenging. Thus, I haven’t posted. 

A month and a half ago, I woke up one day and felt the heaviness in my limbs, the signal they send me to say “you have little use of us today and if you over-do it we’ll shut down completely. Good luck!”

I heard what they told me but I loaded the dishwasher anyway. I said “I do what I want! You don’t own me.” I moved too much anyway. I pushed too far. Bam. My muscles completely shut down. Typically, I can rest for a few hours and they’ll come back to life, but it was different this time. 

I haven’t been able to stand or walk since and my wheelchair is my constant companion now.

My BFF always jokes that Myasthenia Gravis sounds like a Harry Potter spell. If it was a Harry Potter spell, it would make your limbs turn into gummy worms.

The first few weeks when this started I needed help with every basic task, including getting to the bathroom. Since then, I’ve gotten some of the independence I had before back, but I still need help showering and making food. I can't help with any cleaning. We have to prepare my food the day before. I still have intermittent use of my arms.

I've lived in fear of this the last year. I have had periods where the paralysis intensifies and I can barely get around my house with my cane, or I'm not able to walk at all. But the longest I've ever been unable to walk is 12 hours. This is a new normal indeed.

My whole body has become so weak and deconditioned without any movement at all. All this time I’ve been trying to imagine how I’m going to rebuild my strength. It’s a daunting task. Imagining just walking from my bed to my bathroom again feels like climbing Everest. There’s no chance to rebuild my strength right now because any time I try to use my muscles the more the paralysis sets in. That’s typical for Myasthenia. Using muscles draws the antibodies from your blood into the muscle, making it weaker and weaker.

So I’m not completely sure how I’m going to climb out of this. I’m honestly just trying to go with it, take it day by day and moment by moment. My body makes the rules so I'm just trying to finally learn how to follow its lead and not fight against it. The harder I fight, the more I sink in the quicksand. It's better just to roll with it, literally. 

So I continue to wait.

When the paralysis was so intense that I needed help with every basic task, husband and I packed a bag and planned to head to the ER. I mentally prepared myself for a long hospital stay. But my neurologist (who has been minimally helpful during this health crisis) told us not to go to the ER unless my breathing completely shut down. My packed hospital bag is still sitting on the floor in our room just in case.

It’s incredibly frustrating. I had been making progress with yoga the last 6 months, I had been able to walk farther than I had been able to almost a year in Febraury, and now it's gone. I keep thinking “what did I do? How did this happen?”

I think I have an idea of what happened. I got over-ambitious. I was in denial about how much I have declined in the last 6 months in general. Ever since that day that I screwed up, took my body for granted, and tried to play with my nephew for a few minutes back in March, I haven’t been the same. That started the insomnia and the constant insomnia turned the usual muscle weakness into paralysis. I started a higher dose of the medication I use to sleep and I think that played a role too. 

I think that’s how I got here.  But it’s often fruitless to backtrack and try to figure out how or why. Illness often has a mind of its own and control is an illusion. Trying to find a narrative that explains the 'how' and 'why' often is a pointless endeavor.

Although this crisis has been challenging for husband and I, we have started adapting to it. I have adjusted to using the wheelchair all of the time pretty well. We’ve come up with solutions to help me maintain some of my independence and preserve the strength and energy I have. Each night, husband prepares my breakfast and lunch for the next day.

It may sound strange, but in some ways this crisis has given me more resilience. I was extremely depressed the few months before this because I was having difficulty exercising, walking, or seeing any of my friends and family. Yet, this has given me a huge appreciation for the independence and mobility I had. It has given me more determination to move again and get my strength back.

Bella appreciates having another place to sit

I haven’t been able to play my keyboard in two months, the longest I have ever gone. That, more than not being able to walk, has been the most devastating part of this. But I’m determined to be able to have enough use of my arms and enough energy to play again. I want to go back to the assisted care facility where my mom lived to play for them again in the near future.

I’ve been listening to a lot of music, especially playing my vinyl collection, and reading (follow me on Instagram to see pictures of my vinyl collection. I'm @StefanieShea over there). I’ve even been able to wheel myself outside sometimes. Husband and I have been watching a lot of Star Trek. Even though I’m still not well, I still feel satisfied with life in many ways. 

In times like this, I've learned you have to find strategies to not let frustration overwhelm you. It can start a fire that consumes every part of your life. You have to fiercely guard what joy you still have. Ultimately, I've learned gratitude is the antidote to suffering. 

To the good news:

A few weeks ago, I had an appointment with my pulmonologist. I haven’t made it to any appointments with any of my doctors this year and the only test I made it to was my pulmonary function test in April. Everything else I have had to cancel because I wasn’t well enough. I was in terrible shape and not able to travel but I had to make it to this appointment. I had to tell my doctor that breathing and sleeping have become even harder.

It was over 100 degrees that day, making the trek to the next town over to see her even more challenging. But husband created an elaborate game plan to make sure I was comfortable and able to make it.

I started crying as soon as we got in the room. I could barely talk to her nurse. I don’t cry in appointments anymore. It wastes time. I always have my game face on and a detailed list of questions and points to discuss. When my doctor came in, I was still a weepy mess. I could barely use my limbs or sit up and I was exhausted from traveling and suffering. It was too much.

My pulmonologist is incredible. I wish every doctor had her empathy and compassion. She was distraught at my condition and my emotional state. I’m usually all smiles and business when I see her, no matter how terrible I feel. I asked her again if there was any way I could get a breathing machine finally, something we’ve been talking about for a year since the respiratory muscle weakness from MG has been my most difficult symptom to manage the last few years. She said she’d do everything in her power but she thought my insurance would not cover it. I left incredibly disappointed. The inhalers she gave me and the canned oxygen I buy online are not enough to offset my breathing difficulty and it is the major culprit for my insomnia, leading to my declined state. 

I've heard "this treatment will help you but your insurance won't cover it" so many times. That's the reason my neurologist hasn't been able to start the standard MG immunotherapy for me.

A few days later we got a call that I had been approved for a BiPaP machine. Wait. What? How? We couldn’t believe it! I don’t know how my doctor did it but I need to send her some flowers.

Two respiratory nurses brought the machine over last week and showed us how to use it. The first night I tried to sleep with it on and ended up only sleeping a few hours that night, long after I took the mask off. It’s going to take some time to be able to fall asleep with it on. I’m having a lot of trouble sleeping even without an uncomfortable apparatus attached to my face.

But I’ve been using it during the day, before bed, and when I wake up at night not breathing and what a difference it has made. WOW! Who knew breathing was so great? The only problem is my insurance didn’t cover the full cost of the machine. Our monthly co-pay for it is $100, which is steep. We looked at our budget and worked things around to make it feasible.

The day I got my machine, my best friend created a GoFundMe page to help cover the cost. I guess my closest friends had been planning this as soon as they heard I was approved for the machine. I was considering asking them to take it down but my friend explained that people wanted to help and they had been looking for a way to help. Friends, family, and even strangers contributed.

I am astonished at their kindness. It has been an elixir of hope the last week knowing so many people were rooting for me and wanted to help us. We are so grateful for the love and support.

So right now I’m working on getting adjusted to the machine and crossing my fingers and hoping I can start building my strength again. I’m hoping to get back to blogging regularly again. I can’t believe it’s been two months since I’ve posted. For any of you still reading, thanks for hanging on and bearing with me.

There have even been days where I have enough strength to do fun things, like re-plant our Stonehenge garden.

I have also learned that when you live a life of limitation and the most excited thing you have to look forward to is leaving the house for blood work or an appointment, you have to create things to look forward to and focus on them instead. This week is our 10th wedding anniversary and we're going to have a big party with our friends and family. We had always planned to drive to Yellowstone for our 10th, but that's not possible. A party is just as great. We're going to Monterey in a few weeks to stay for about a week with some friends. It will be the first time I've left my town for something other than an appointment in two years! We have friends and family coming to visit from other states in the next few months. Despite the obvious drawbacks, life is pretty good.

And you have to hold fast to that.

To better days ahead for all of us…..

Surviving the Worst

Well. I’m slowly climbing back from the worst rough patch I’ve ever had, but I’m here. I’m writing. My arms work well enough to type again. This is progress.

From the last few posts, you can see that the last few months have been one long rough patch, but it took a sharper turn the last week. The thing with experiencing the worst is it’s like a nightmare taking tangible form. The world drains of color. Nothing brings joy or relief. I couldn't see the other side, and it felt like I would never climb out.

But I am getting to other side.

I’ve had some really severe insomnia for about a month and a half. I am a lifetime insomniac and go through periods of not sleeping well but this was different. I was only averaging 3 hours a night and some nights, I only slept about an hour, long after the sun came up. The thing with illness is sleep is the center which all forms of symptom management orbit. If you don’t have sleep, it doesn’t matter how much you rest, eat well, exercise, etc. Without sleep, everything else is pointless.

I tried all my usual tactics, including changing my sleep medication. But the reason I was having such a difficult time sleeping is I was having to spend a good portion of my time in bed during the day and I was constantly waking up in the middle of the night because I wasn’t breathing. The latter is not an uncommon occurrence but the less sleep I got, the worse my breathing got and the more time I had to spend in bed. It was an unending cycle I couldn’t break.

I don’t know how people who have to spend all of their time in bed do it, but being bedridden is always a ticket to insomnia-ville for me. I also kept over-doing it as always and making myself bedridden again.

I did manage to make it to my pulmonary function test two weeks ago though. I’m hoping to write a post about it since it’s a standard test for Myasthenia. It’s a brutal, exhausting test that includes such exciting activities as breathing into tubes, hyperventilating on purpose over and over, and getting locked in a glass pod. It was nice to show up though and it’s the only test I’ve made it to this year, so it feels so good to check it off the list since I won’t have to do it again for another year!

But I didn’t rest properly after the test and ended up bedridden and back at insomnia-ville again.

But then my body had had enough and my muscle weakness turned to paralysis. Paralysis can come at any time with Myasthenia but this was the worst bout I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t get to the bathroom without help. My husband had to push me around the house in my wheelchair, two thresholds I have been dreading and hoping wouldn’t happen for a long time or never.

We made arrangements to go the hospital but I had my husband call my doctor to see if that was the right choice. My doctor said that if the paralysis entered my respiratory muscles, then we needed to go. Even though I had little use of my limbs, I was actually breathing ok, for me at least. A healthy person would still assume they were dying. Going to the ER is stressful and offers serious risk. I knew I needed sleep and rest and I was not going to get either of those there. Also, my doctor has still not authorized immunotherapy—steroids and IVIG—for me, which is standard treatment for Myasthenia. I really don’t know what they would do for me at the ER. So I pushed through it. Survived moment to moment. 

It’s a skill I’ve gotten really good at. I’m an epic level survivor.

I haven’t had to spend any time in bed the last three days. The paralysis is starting to subside and I’m sleeping better. I don’t know if I have turned the corner yet but I feel like I’m getting there. The world has some color again.

I’ve been practicing what I call “militant resting,” moving as little as possible, focusing on my breathing, and giving my body the patience and care it needs. Now if I could just stop over-doing it and let my body recover, that would be great.

I missed my MRI at Stanford again and sent a message to my doctor asking for another option, hopefully to do the MRI locally since this is the 4^th time I’ve had to cancel it. I have another appointment there in two weeks. I really need to improve so I can finally show up.

I got my fancy, new record player that was my gift to myself for winning my short-term disability case and I’ve been lying on my couch listening to a lot of music, many of my albums I haven’t listened to in a long time. Music the best kind of medicine; it can be auditory resuscitation. As something fun and uplifting, I've been working on taking pictures of some of my vinyl collection I’ve been accumulating the last few decades. If you want to see it, follow me on Twitter or on Instagram.

It feels like there are shades of normalcy in life again and I'm working hard to get there. My husband has been the unsung hero in this awful saga. He is always the one who deserves all the glory. The last few months have easily been harder for him than for me since he has to care for me, while working and doing everything else. This was the first time I have needed help with every task so I've been working hard to get back to some functionality again. I'm definitely getting there. We survived it together like we always do and watched all of "Cut Throat Kitchen" while I rested.

Since my condition continues to decline and I've struggled to show up to appointments and tests to finally make headway toward treatment, I have this overwhelming sense of dread and fear. What transpired last week did not help this. But I have decided that I won't live in fear of the future and what may come next. I want to try to enjoy each day--laugh with my husband, listen to music, watch the birds in my yard, do everything I can do enjoy each moment.

When I was feeling at my worst, I wrote a poem to remind myself of this:

I refuse to walk in fear
To tread in trepidation
To worry what each corner brings
But instead
To wake each day to a fresh start
And face that possibility with an embrace
Each corner is a new chance
Something to learn, something to fight, something to laugh with
But I refuse to walk in fear toward it
Not anymore 
Instead, a gesture toward hope


I hope all of you are doing well out there. I'm hoping to get back to regular posting again soon. Peace and love to you all :)

The Bright Spots of 2015

I’m starting to think about the tumultuous ride of 2015 and, more importantly, thinking about what I want 2016 to be.

I will not look back on 2015 with much fondness. There were a few bright spots, but this was a very dark year filled with tremendous lows. I was talking to husband about writing this post and asked him, “Since there were so many lows, what were the high points of this year?” We had a hard time but we came up with a few highlights. 

I will remember 2015 as a year of loss: I had to officially resign and give up my career, my independence continues to be chipped away at, and I lost my mother. But this post is not about the low points. You can look through many of my posts this year and see those low points. I don’t want to live a life dwelling on the hardships and setbacks. I want to try to live a life. I want to inject my life with some hope and joy, because even when I was hitting a nadir this year, there was still hope and joy around me. I want to end this year remembering the good parts.

As I was trying to remember the good moments this year, I started looking through pictures I had on my phone or pictures my friends had taken, and doing this filled me with so much joy. It is so easy to get lost in the tides of grief and sadness when they overwhelm you; it's easy to forget to see the world around you. Looking through these pictures and remembering the good times helped me see the life I still have all around me and that, even with my limitations, I am still a participant in that life.

These are some of my favorite memories from 2015, some with pictures attached:

-This picture is one my bestie took at our annual New Year's Eve gathering last year, 2014. I was not well in this picture and my mother was not well either, but we're both laughing about something. I can still picture my mom doing this, pretending to take a picture. This may be the last picture of the two of us together because I don't have any I took this year. It's good to remember that we did have times when we still laughed together.

-Any day my nephews come over is a great day. One day early this year we were watching them and we went to a park near our house. When we told them that's what we were doing, they were brimming with excitement. I sat on a bench and husband pushed them in the swings and chased them around. I couldn't participate but I had a great time watching them.

-Mother's Day stands out to me. We already had to put my mom in a care facility a few months before Mother's Day and I hadn't seen her much before then. My mom and I used to talk on the phone every day, but I rarely saw her when she moved into St. Francis, mainly because I was struggling with my own health at the time and couldn't drive myself to see her. But on Mother's Day, my step-dad brought her to their house. She seemed at peace that day. She seemed happy and content. It was the first time we were together as a family after she had moved and it was a good day. My mom and my sister spoke on the phone that day. It is probably my happiest memory of my mother this year and I'm cherishing it. 

-Even though my mobility is limited, I try to get outside and walk every day with my trekking poles, which my physical therapist suggested I start using. It's a form of exercise but mainly it's for my mental health. I am trapped inside on my couch much of the time, but when I can get outside I feel like I'm part of the world again. I only walk a few feet or yards, depending on the functionality of my legs each day. I used to hike mountains, but this short walk, which most people can do with ease, is now my mountain and when I can walk it I feel on top of the world. I often take pictures when I'm out on the walk if it's a good day.

- I've mentioned this before, but since I stopped working and have had time to indulge my interests I never knew I had, I have become a bit obsessed with prehistory, particularly prehistoric Britain. I could read endless books about Stonehenge and archaeological finds in Britain and never get bored. I've watched every documentary I can get my hands on. I never had the time to realize this obsession when I was an academic, but now I do. Since I can't get to Stonehenge to celebrate the summer solstice, we had our own solstice party this year and celebrated with pizza, Led Zeppelin, and games, just as our Pagan ancestors would want us to I'm sure. One of my good friends is a bad ass baker and made this brilliant Stonehenge cake. I'm still in amazement every time I look at it.

- One of my goals this year was to get some articles about illness and disability written and get them published for a wider audience. I submitted some work to The Mighty and have a few articles up and I'll be sending them more soon. I'm hoping to send more writing out to more publications next year. You can see the ones they published on my author page.

- My husband and I used to like to travel, hike, go to restaurants, leave the house, but we only leave our town together now for appointments. But we try to make it quality time out of it in some ways. We usually try to laugh and have a good time, even when I'm being tortured during some medical test. This first picture is from our favorite hotel we try to stay in whenever we go to Stanford. The hotel is a bit of a splurge but it always feels like a bit of a vacation when we stay there. Close enough to a vacation at least.

- It's been my dream to own a piano forever and the consignment shop right down the street had the most gorgeous, vintage piano. This piano was my soulmate but the price tag was steep. It would also take up our entire living room. I got to play it a few times before they sold it. Maybe someday we will cross paths again and I can own it.

- My nephew #3, Max, was born in July and he is such a sweetie. We all call him Baby Max but my nephews started calling him "BayMax" from the movie Big Hero 6, so husband and I bought him a BayMax plush when he was born. My husband looks exactly like his father and now Max looks just like the both of them. He is the only one of the three to take more after my husband's side.

- Husband and I made a Stonehenge garden this summer. You may have heard about the drought here in California so it eventually became DroughtHenge. I'm hoping we can re-plant it next year. 

- I did some artwork this year, not much but more than last year for sure. I'm hoping to do more next year. Here's a daffodil I was working on and more Stonehenge (of course)

- My mom took a bad turn in late summer so I called my sister and asked her to come here to visit her. My sister had not seen her for about six months before that. My step father picked up my mom from the care facility and brought her to their house so we could be together and BBQ. This was the last time we were together as a family before my mom went to the hospital just a few weeks later. This was the last time I hugged my mom. I'm thankful that I listened to my instinct and asked my sister to come. I didn't know that day that it was the end but I'm thankful for that memory.

- For my birthday this year, I asked everyone to wear blue to help me raise awareness for Dysautonomia since October is Dysautonomia Awareness Month. Many of my friends and family participated and posted pictures wearing blue on the Facebook page I made for the event. This is my sister and her friend Scottee, my mother-in-law, and my crazy nephews. 

- I have so many pictures of my cats Bella and Mopar in my phone. They are our little family.

- After slowly working up to it for a year, I finally made it to a normal dose of Mestinon a few months ago. The best part is the cost of the medication went from $80 to $3 a month when I was finally able to switch to the pill form. It really took me a year to get there. It felt like such an accomplishment.

- Instead of a funeral, we had a Celebration of Life gathering for my mom. It was such a good day. Most of our friends and family were there and many people I hadn't seen in many years. Unfortunately, I only have one picture from that day. Almost my whole gymnastics team from 20 years ago reunited and got a picture together.

- Thanksgiving and Christmas were rough this year without my mom but we still did our best to celebrate with our families. Here's a picture of my husband and our cats, the ornament that hospice made for my mom to mark her passing this year, and a picture of me and my best friends at our annual Christmas party for our friends.

- We made a memorial fund for my mom and we gave the check to the care facility where she lived much of this year. They took great care of her and we wanted to say thank you. We ended up donating $1500, and they were elated. I've been trying to play their piano for the residents regularly as a way to give back to them too. Here's a picture of my step-father and I dropping off the check and also my best friend and me playing some Christmas music for them on Giving Tuesday.

- And just to round it out, here's a few pictures from our annual NYE party this year. My sister, who almost never comes to the party we have every year at my parents' house, surprised us by showing up a few hours after the party started. It was such a great surprise. The last picture is my husband hilariously photobombing me and my friends.

So farewell 2015! You definitely had your moments. A lot of Stonehenge, a lot of cats, some sorrow, and so much that was bittersweet.

I'm wishing for a happier and healthier 2016 for all of us. We all deserve it. 

Month of Gratitude, Week Four: Resilience

I don’t have much to say this week. I hope that all of you reading this had a good holiday if you celebrated Thanksgiving, and if you didn’t, I hope you had a good week in general.

I've been physically in pretty bad shape still, but I got to enjoy the holiday. I anticipated it being more difficult since this was the first holiday without my mother. It was definitely difficult but my family and I managed to still celebrate and enjoy our time together. It definitely won’t ever be the same. My mom was my ally in the family; she was the only one as weird as me. We had the same humor. She was the person who loved me the most in this world. She was my best friend. 

Now it feels like a piece of my soul is irrevocably gone. 

But it’s ok. 

The thing with surviving something traumatic and devastating is you think you can’t survive it. And then somehow you do. You put one foot in front of the other and just keep going.

I can survive it. I can keep going. I’ve built up a pretty strong reserve of resilience the last few years.

That’s what I’m thankful for this week: resilience. Before I got ill, I was a survivor but I don’t think I was very resilient. It’s taken years and quite a bit of training to learn resilience. You have to with illness or you’d never be able to get out of bed every day.

Resilience means hope

It means acceptance

It means survival

It means renewal

And renewal is a promise for a better day 

I’m not consciously feeling resilient right now but I know it’s there. I know it’s my life support that is keeping me going. It’s giving me strength unconsciously.

I’m grateful for that strength to enjoy every bit of life right now: spending energy on creativity, seeing my friends, watching their children get older, spending time with my family, eating pumpkin pie, watching Star Trek with husband, going outside, relishing that first note when I play a song, breathing in chilly autumn days, drinking a good, strong cup of tea.

Every bit of it.

I hope you had moments to savor this week too, and whatever battle you are fighting, that your resilience is sailing you to the other side as well. 

Outside to walk a few feet with my trekking poles. Who could ask for more?