Vacation!

I’m doing something crazy next week, something I haven’t done in years. We’re going on a vacation! I mentioned this before, but I haven’t left my town for something that isn’t medically-related in two years. 

Seriously. Two years.

I haven’t even gone to the next town over to see my BFF’s new place. She moved there almost two years ago. I haven’t made it to the Bay Area to visit my sister, about a two hour trip. She’s lived there for three years. I haven’t been to our favorite place, Sonora, an hour drive away, in two years, and the last time I went to Yosemite was three years ago. I haven’t even made it to any of my appointments at Stanford this year. I've had to cancel every single one. Travelling has become absurdly challenging, especially this year, so all of that has just not happened.

The last time we left town for something fun was when we went to Tahoe for a week with some friends two years ago. We had a great time. I wasn’t doing great but I was doing much better than I am now. I was still working at that time.  I had just survived the last semester I was able to teach and I was rapidly losing my mobility and independence at that time, but I wasn't completely couch-bound then. We played games most of the day and went out to eat most evenings. I sat on the porch that overlooked the forest and read much of the time. We went to the lake one evening as the sun was setting but I wasn’t able to last long so we didn’t get to watch the sun set.

The view from the porch. Ah to live with this view every day. What a dream

I ended up at the ER on the last day we were there. That’s a story I still haven’t shared on the blog yet and I still might someday. If I could create a dream ER experience, it would have been that. I was treated quickly and the ER doctor, who was probably younger than me, had heard of POTS. That ER was incredibly busy. I got an IV and some Zofran and as I waited for the IV to finish we heard someone have a heart attack, someone who drowned in the lake, and the man in the bed next to me was withdrawing from something. The ER doctor forced me to drink Gatorade which I HATE because I declined a second bag of fluids. I just wanted to go home. After one bag, I felt ok enough to make the drive. Anytime I need to go the ER, I dream about go that hospital in Tahoe.

Mustering a smile as the IV worked its magic

We didn’t know at that time that I also had Myasthenia Gravis. I was having difficulty breathing and the lack of oxygen at high altitude did not help. I hadn’t even told my doctors at that point that I was having trouble breathing. The mountain thunderstorms that were passing through made me severely nauseous. It was a bit calamitous but aside from having to go the ER, I look back on the trip with fondness. I had a great time. I’m glad we were able to go somewhere while I was still able to travel. 

I just wish we would’ve stayed at sea level.

So this year we decided to go to Monterey with the same friends and stay in a house for a week. As I’ve been going through the worst health crisis I’ve ever had the last few months, I keep thinking “I have to make it to Monterey. I will make it no matter what.” I haven’t really been focused on much else at this point besides trying to get well enough to make it.  

We planned this trip awhile ago and I always imagined that I’d wake up each morning while we were there and do my usual routine of yoga, stretching, meditation. I never imagined I’d be using my wheelchair full time instead. In a few days, it will be two months since I’ve been unable to walk or stand. It’s not how I imagined this trip but it doesn’t mean I’ll enjoy it any less. We were planning on playing a lot of games too but more than likely I won’t be able to participate much, but that’s ok.

As a lifelong Californian, I've been to Monterey many times over the years so I definitely won't feel like I'm missing out since I'll have to spend most of my time on the couch while we're there. We were planning on going to the Aquarium, and that’s the main reason why we chose Monterey since the only way I could manage a trip to the Aquarium is if we stay multiple nights. I’m not sure I’ll feel well enough for that but it’s not off the table. Not sure I’ll be able to make it to the beach either but I’m definitely going to try. I'm mainly just looking forward to being somewhere that isn't obscenely hot and getting a change of scenery, from my couch to another couch.

I’m going to try to take some time off from being engaged in the world. It’s election season here in the US and I’ve been completely absorbed in that, global politics, and the violence that’s happening here. I may spend all of my time at home, but I’m still an engaged citizen of the world. But I definitely need some time away from that and running through the list of the all the appointments and health management I need to do in my head every day. There’s always something I have to prepare for, plan, make calls about. I’m going to take a much-needed break from it all.

When I get back, I get about a week to rest and then I have to do the worst test ever again (the Single Fiber EMG) at Stanford. But I don’t want to talk or think about that right now.

I’ve been trying to figure out what a suitable number of books bring is. If we’re there for five days, is four too many? What if I run out! What if I have nothing to read! The horror. I’m just going to take it all. Two works of fiction, one of philosophy, one of poetry, and my tablet in case I need anything else. Seems reasonable to me.

It was over 100 degrees essentially every day for a few weeks here. I was telling husband that I don’t even know how to pack for this trip because I don’t remember what 65 degrees even feels like. I’m going to enjoy being able to wear my higher quality compression stockings with jeans and being able to go outside. It won’t get cooler here until November so it’ll be a nice reprieve from the brutal heat.

I went out into public for the first time in months last week and it ended up being a bit disastrous since it was 104 that day. We went to my favorite antique store. I'm hoping that the cooler weather will make leaving the couch a little more feasible but we'll see. 

Husband and I at the antique store. No amount of air conditioning could save me at that point but it was nice to get out

I've been carefully planning for this trip for weeks now. Traveling while ill presents enormous challenges and it's difficult to make contingency plans for every form of chaos that can ensue. I've made a list of everything I'll need to take, including my meds, my breathing machine, shower chair, inhalers, my provisions and electrolytes, etc. Anytime I think of something, I write it down since my memory is unreliable. I'm working on packing a little every day so it doesn't completely exhaust me too much. 

I'm just going to cross my fingers and hope for the best.

I’ll probably be quiet on the Facebook page but follow me on Instagram or Twitter where I might be posting some pictures.

I’m hoping to get a ctrl-alt-delete on life, a nice reboot, and come back feeling a little more refreshed and renewed. I'll be listening to this song over and over, enjoying a little reasonable sunshine. 

Some Goals for 2016

I meant to get this post up in December or at least a few weeks ago, but this post is a compliment to my post where I outlined what a typical good day looks like. I spend much of my time coordinating my care, resting, and working around my symptoms. I make weekly goals in my planner every week and then prioritize them, always making exercise number one no matter what else is going on that week. The rest of my goals usually involve phone calls, paperwork, appointments, etc. Thus, my life often feels like it boils down to constant management of my own health. I need a reminder to focus on life and my other goals.

I made this list in December and strategically left out my health-related goals because I’m trying to find a way to carve out a life, or a semblance of a life, outside of illness. I would say that the last few years, illness has controlled my life no matter how much I try to make it the other way around.  I like to believe I’m the captain navigating these rough waters, but often I’m really just the vessel plodding along in the storm. I have surrendered to the fact that illness is a constant source of chaos but it doesn’t mean I can’t at least attempt to make a life in conjunction with that chaos. This is what I’m telling myself at least.

My BFF Carrie Anne has an enviable Life List and she inspired me to make one a few years ago. It’s funny; I actually recently went back and looked at the one I made, which is from my pre-sick life, and I put things like “hike Yosmite’s Upper Falls,” “go whale watching,” and “publish more academic articles” on there. Uhhh….not quite. I’ll have to start from scratch at some point on it. 

But here are some goals I think I can manage this year:

1. Get Back to Creativity

Whatever your passion or skills, creating and the desire for self-expression are the essence of our humanity. I have always been artistic but I lost some of that creative spirit when I became an academic and while dealing with illness. I used to play music regularly, even getting paid gigs for weddings or at restaurants. I worked as a children’s illustrator for years at our local library. I was constantly creating and producing. This is my number one goal for this year: do something creative every day.

I’ve been playing my keyboard almost every day for a few months now so I’m on track with music. Even though I cannot perform right now (which was always my motivation to keep practicing), I’m working on learning and memorizing new material and trying to improve. I’m hoping to try to focus more on writing, finishing, and recording my own material. That’s at the top of my list for my creative goals.

I dream of getting back to painting and giving friends and family gifts of artwork regularly. I dream of sitting in my yard and drawing for 10 minutes at a time and taking breaks. Honestly, working as an artist for so many years put a damper on my desire to create my own artwork. As with all creative pursuits, it takes commitment to improve as an artist and develop skills. I have not been committed to painting for many years. But I still desire to do it more consistently.

I have some clear writing goals. I’m working on getting at least one blog post up a week, getting more writing published, and working toward writing my book. I got six posts up last month, so I’m already on my way toward reaching some of my writing goals.

2. Go Outside

I try to remember what pre-sick life was like and what I did every day in those years, and I would not describe myself as necessarily a home-body then. Yet, since I’m home-bound now, I don’t even leave the borders of my own home with any frequency. The boundaries of the world I inhabit now can be measured in mere feet. There is no literal or figurative horizon to look out to and build dreams on. My horizon is now internal.

We live in a duplex that has an enclosed yard and that was the main reason why I wanted to live here. I try to sit outside in our yard every day. It’s difficult during the warm months (which is most of the year here), but I try to time it right each day to get outside even just for a few minutes. I try to walk with my trekking poles regularly (I’ve had limited success with this in the last few months unfortunately). My goal this year is to get outside every day. 

Along with meditation, this is fundamental to my mental health and sense of well-being. Getting outside, even just sitting in our yard, helps me feel like I am part of the world and feel less trapped. I talk to my cats and the birds in our yard and watch the flowers bloom. It’s glorious.

3. Listen to more music

This is separate from number 1. Since I have to spend so much time resting, it’s a good opportunity to listen to music, yet I honestly spend much of my resting time either reading the news, watching documentaries, or staring off into space. I’ve been anxiously waiting for the full swing of the election season so I’m already spending too much focusing on it. I’m not very interested in football or baseball. The World Series or the Super Bowl are barely a blip on my radar. Politics is my sports.

But music gives me more joy than almost anything else, so I would like to disconnect more and just listen. Listen to all the new music from my favorite artists I haven’t listened to yet. Listen to some of my records I haven’t listened to in ages. Just listen.

4. Read more

I wrote a post a few weeks ago that listed the books I had finished in 2015. I finished 20 books but I’m aiming for 30-40 this year. I know I’ll likely never get back to the 50-70 I read when I was an academic but it will feel close enough.

5. See more of my friends and family

Even though I don’t get out much, I see some of my friends somewhat regularly. But I want to see more of them and see more of my family. The last few years have not been kind to my family and our relationships suffered significantly under the strain of my mom’s failing health. I have high hopes that we can start to move forward this year. I want to see more of my husband’s family too, especially my crazy nephews.

I’d love to be able to drive again. That would make a huge difference with being able to see family and friends more often. Hopefully at some point I can do that again.

6. Work on projects with husband

My husband is a builder and maker of things but the times I have participated in his projects have been slim to none. I have a gorgeous 1920s antique armoire that my mom saved for me that desperately needs to be refinished. It’s been sitting in our garage for three years and I can’t wait to see it back to its full glory. It’s a serious undertaking but husband is on board to help with it.

We have some other projects on the table. We ordered a flint-knapping kit last year and have been waiting for some warmer weather to practice making hand axes. We can party like its 10,000 BC and make some prehistoric tools. Sounds fantastic.

This could come in handy in the zombie apocalypse

7. Travel (i.e leave the house for things that are not appointment-related)

I sometimes think about what my life would look like if illness hadn’t taken it over. I’d still be a workaholic and spending much of my time working, but I’d also be playing music and travelling. I have always loved to travel. I honestly cannot remember the last time I left my town for something other than an appointment, even just to go to neighboring towns. One of my BFFs moved to the next town over a few years ago and I still haven’t seen her new place. My sister moved to the Bay Area a few years ago and I still haven’t been able to visit her there yet either. It’s just absurd.

I want to attempt to venture out this year. ‘Travel’ for me doesn’t mean I’m going to travel up the Pacific Northwest (though I’d give anything to do that again). It means going places that are nearby, even just a mile or two down the road, and the excursion NOT being appointment-related. I’m going to actually count any activity where I leave the house that isn’t for some kind appointment as “travelling.”

There are places I really want to go that are not that far from us but would take some serious planning to pull off, including having to stay overnight. I haven’t been to Yosemite in 3 years, which considering we used to go there multiple times a year, is desperately sad. I’d love to take a trip to Monterrey and go the aquarium. We both love the Foothills and had family in Sonora when we were growing up. Ultimately, our goal is to move there, but I’m hoping this year I could pull off a day trip there again. If I can start slowly working my way up to these things, maybe we could finally get back to thinking about our bigger travel plans like visiting my husband’s aunts in southern California again or finally making a trip to Yellowstone. Someday.

8. Meditate more

I had a great therapist when we lived in Nevada who had a background in mindfulness, and she helped me get back to meditating. I used to do a lot of yoga years ago and meditation was always part of that practice. I would like to consistently meditate again, preferably once a day. I have found that morning is the best time for me, and I have actually discovered that it helps to stabilize my heart rate and breathing. I usually wake up with my heart rate around 160 (thanks POTS) and struggling to breathe (thanks Myasthenia), but sitting and focusing on my breath helps to improve these symptoms that are usually the worst in the morning. But more than anything else, meditation offers benefits for mental health. For me, it has improved my anxiety significantly and helped my depression too. When I feel myself starting to spiral out of control mentally, I try to sit still for a few minutes and just focus on my breath. It really helps.

And just for fun, here are some big dreams and goals—some I’m actually working toward and some that are just crazy ideas I want to throw out to the universe:

1.      Finish my album of originals and sell it or make it free online

2.      Write a book (or two or three)

3.      Perform regularly again

4.      Start a non-profit that will help disabled chronically ill patients get access to important resources

5.      Travel to the UK

6.      Be able to drive to my friends/family’s house and be able to drive myself to local appointments

7.      Organize fundraiser events (for Dysautonomia, Myasthenia Gravis, and Alzheimer’s)

8.      Be able to teach in a classroom again (or any capacity really)

9.      Take freelance writing jobs

10.  Have a vegetable garden that I am able to maintain

11. Go camping

12.  Get an MFA or finish my PhD

13. Sell some of my artwork or give it away for free

I don’t know if I’ll accomplish any in this last list but these goals beckon to my soul for completion someday

I recommend making a list for yourself also, making sure to separate the health goals from your life goals. Even as I was writing this, I kept finding myself listing health-related desires. This was a good exercise to try to delineate my own desires from the health-related goals I’m working toward every day. We have to remember to live sometimes, even if much of that life has to be lived internally. There are still universes within each of us that deserve exploration.

Appointments, Pennies, and Water Skis on Fire

I've been meaning to discuss the last specialist appointments I had this year for awhile now. 2015 was another year on the Hamster Wheel of Diagnosis and I’m headed into year six running on that wheel. I feel like I’m closer to more answers now than I was a year ago for sure, or I’m just getting more comfortable in the grey area. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. I’m going to review a bit the results of those appointments so I can sort it out in my head.

I saw my neurologist at Stanford in early November and it had been about 6 months since I had seen him before that. When I saw him in May, that was probably the worst appointment I’ve ever had at Stanford. He was running behind that day, he gave me a very cursory exam (he didn’t even have me get on the table), he expressed his frustration with my test results and my “subjective” symptoms, and then rushed out 15 mins later. Seriously disappointing. The appointment was such a disappointment that I debated not going to my appointment in November. Going there is becoming more costly and more exhausting. We have to stay in a hotel now and decent hotels in that area don’t exist under $200 a night.

But if you want a diagnosis and treatment and to get off the Hamster Wheel someday, you have to play the game. So I went to this appointment, and I’m glad I did. This appointment was a significant improvement. He had recently lost his nurse he worked with for years (who I had built a good relationship with) and his new PA spent about an hour with us before he came in. I was pleasantly surprised that she had already read extensively about my health history before she came in and she listened patiently as my husband and I described my symptoms. She did a careful neurological exam.

In many ways, getting a neurological exam is similar to a sobriety test (I imagine since I’ve never done one. I’ve never even been drunk). They shine bright lights in your eyes, ask you to walk in a straight line, ask you to touch your nose with your eyes closed, stab your feet with sharp objects and check your nerves, etc. Maybe they don’t do the last one on a sobriety stop. It’s a long process and once my doctor came in we did most of the exam over again. The appointment lasted about 2 hours, which is the longest one I’ve ever had there. I finally got to show him the extent of my mobility issues, weakness, and that my right leg has lost most of its functionality.

They both acknowledged the extent of my mobility issues when I showed them and they said my exam findings matched my “subjective symptoms,” which was a nice turn around from the last appointment. In some ways, for what it’s worth, I felt vindicated.

The last few years I’ve been living with incredible frustration because I felt like my neurologist and some of my other doctors privileged all the inconclusive test results over my voice and my explanation of my own experience. I started to feel like I had no control over the narrative of my own body. I was no longer an authority on my own reality. The constant testing and inconclusive findings have been an impediment to treatment. When I saw him last month, he explained why he has been relying on test results and admitted that the test results would probably never be able to objectively describe my symptoms. I had planned on having a long talk with him at this appointment about the fallibility of test results and then he discussed it with me without me even needing to mention it. 

He said Myasthenia tests can’t find all the antibodies that would identify the disease. It’s rare to find a doctor who will admit to the fallibility of Western medicine in diagnosing and treating rare conditions, and I’m thankful that he finally had this discussion with me. I'm not sure I got an official Myasthenia diagnosis at this appointment, but all of my other doctors are using that assumption.

He also mentioned that my low copper is very troubling. I first saw him way back in 2012 and he tested my copper then and it has always been low, sometimes very very low. Since 2012, I’ve taken copper supplements every day, which you can’t even find in health stores. I have to purchase them online. My results are always low and while I was there, he tested my copper again. Despite upping my daily dosage of copper the last year, I’m still way under the normal range. 

He said that this acquired copper deficiency could be either at the root or at least a major factor in all of my symptoms and that copper deficiency is extremely rare. I kept thinking “Did we find The Cause? Did we finally find Sasquatch?” I guess we’ll have to see if that ultimately is The Cause. I have to see a GI specialist at Stanford to identify why my body won’t absorb copper, which annoyingly is essential for the nervous system to function. 

He noted that my nerves, which are usually less responsive in neurological tests, were hyper responsive this time. He said that should be the opposite with copper deficiency and in an off-hand comment said he would probably discuss me at a conference.  

I've finally leveled up to being a case study. I will be famous for all the wrong reasons.

My best friend Carrie Anne joked with me that at least my diamond and platinum levels are normal. Those would probably be more expensive to treat than copper. If only eating pennies would solve my problem.

Before I left, he set a plan in place for the next few months: see a GI specialist to finally get my copper levels within normal range (and discuss my other GI issues related to autonomic dysfunction), do another brain MRI, do another Single Fiber EMG, and then hopefully start an immunosuppressant and IVIG (standard treatments for Myasthenia that are also very risky). 

When I did a Single Fiber last year, it was the most unpleasant test I’ve ever done. They have to place long needles in your body (each one for 20-30 mins or so) while you flex slightly and move the needles around to get a reading from the muscle fibers. It’s a more sensitive version of a regular EMG and incredibly painful. I was convinced by the end of the test that they had sprained my ankle. Luckily, once all the needles were removed, I was ok. The test took about an hour or more, and when it was over I swore I would never do that again. I also have to stop taking Mestinon to do the test, which is the worst part since I’m dependent on it to breathe.

He is concerned my insurance won’t pay for IVIG unless I do another one. He joked with me that "doctors don't get to treat patients anymore. Insurance companies make all the decisions." Anyone in the trenches of Western medicine will know this to be true. Insurance companies increasingly come between doctors and patients, making the decisions and deciding our fate. Alas, I will enter the torture chamber for another Single Fiber again early next year. We’ll probably have to stay multiple nights because I will likely not be able to make the trip home after being stabbed while not being able to oxygenate properly. Should be a blast!

Some people go on vacations. I drive far away and pay a lot of money to get stabbed repeatedly. 

As we discussed the extent of my mobility issues, he said that neither POTS nor Myasthenia could explain the rapid loss of my mobility and that perhaps I have a “movement disorder as well.” I almost burst into tears at the moment. The prospect of having to get another diagnosis is too much. It’s only a possibility so right now I’m not thinking about it. I'm bookmarking that comment and putting at the back of my mind right now.

The trip to Stanford wiped me out more than any other trip we’ve ever taken there. That trip, which seems so simple, is getting more challenging. But I’ll keep powering through because that’s what I have to do. There’s a Mexican restaurant there that’s right next to our favorite hotel (when we can get a room) and they have the best tortilla soup I’ve ever had. That’s my happy place and motivation.

When I recited everything to my local neurologist who I saw two weeks later, he shook his head as he listened. He said there’s no way that I could have such a mix of incredibly rare conditions (POTS, Myasthenia, Copper deficiency, etc.). He is convinced that there’s a label that would explain everything. I’m sure there is. The problem is I’m not sure that label exists, as well as the diagnostic tools to explain that label as well. I’m starting to wonder if that label will not exist during my lifetime. When I got ill after turning 30, I had never expected to go full unicorn. I never meant to reach such levels of absurdity of being a special snowflake.

I had to get a new local neurologist this year and I really like this new doctor. After we discussed my symptoms and potential treatment plan, he joked with my husband and I about the most absurd new ICD-10 codes used to label medical conditions that went into effect this year, including “Struck by an Orca.” We left the appointment laughing. I found a website where you can buy a book with some of the most hilarious ICD-10 codes in illustrated form. For the spoonies and medical professionals out there, it’d be a great gift. 

Here are a few:

Yes. There's a separate code for the second encounter

How unfortunate does one have to be to quality for this one?

Who hasn't been hurt by falling books or pulling a muscle from focusing too hard while reading at the library?

After my appointment with my local neurologist, I saw my pulmonologist and got to tell her about my summer of desperately seeking oxygenation. July-September I was barely able to breathe and had to use my rescue inhaler (on top of my steroid inhaler I use every day) constantly. Thankfully by the end of October, I’ve been breathing better consistently but still using my rescue inhaler essentially every day. She thinks that when I finally do start immune therapy, I will likely start breathing better since Myasthenia is the culprit. I have to do another pulmonary function test again next year as well, which is also incredibly unpleasant. Husband will at least get to have a good laugh again as I huff out my lungs in a space machine.

So early 2016 is shaping up to be blast with the Single Fiber, another pulmonary function test, and MRI. Let’s throw another Tilt Table Test in just for fun!

Along with other appointments, November wiped me out and I’m still recovering. I’ve had a month now of severe weakness and paralysis from the Myasthenia and had to stop exercising for a time because using the muscles only makes the paralysis worse and then I can’t get around my house. But last week I started being able to go on my very short walks with my trekking poles again and exercising a little.

It seems like every 2-3 months, I have a very bad patch where the weakness and paralysis is so bad that I’m bedridden and can barely move. My last one was in August, so I guess I was due. This time around I tried to be smarter. Usually when it sets in, I start pushing my body even harder to move, which only makes it worse and then I struggle to do important things like brush my hair or bathe. This time I let Myasthenia win for a bit and tried not to push my body (at least not very much) and I wasn’t bedridden much through this one.

It disturbs me this patch has lasted over a month, the longest by far. I’m always afraid that these patches will continue to get longer and I’ll have to start using my wheelchair to get around my house. I’m holding fast to the mobility that I still have. I need a wheelchair most of the time when I leave the house but I can still get around my house without aid much of the time. I want it to at least stay that way. 

Despite the rough patch, I’ve played at the assisted care facility where my lived twice now. Even with the weakness in my upper body, I can usually get my arms and hands to function enough to play. I made it to my husband’s birthday gathering and although I made the huge mistake of not taking breaks during the party, we had a great time. I did some artwork as a gift for a friend. Not bad for being a weak, hot mess.

My BFF and sister in music Melynda and I playing at the care facility for the residents

I’m looking forward to the holiday gatherings the rest of the year.

I canceled almost every appointment this month to conserve energy because being able to participate and see my friends and family this time of year is more important than being on the Hamster Wheel of Diagnosis right now. The Wheel will be waiting for me in January and I’ll begrudgingly get back on, but right now I’m trying to have a life. Or at least pretend for just this brief moment in time.

Right now, that’s enough for me.  

I’m thankful to have the team of doctors I have now. It took a long time, but I found a good team. I had a lot of appointments this year but I was lucky I only did a few tests over the year. I had a long stretch where I didn’t have any appointments, and it was right when my mom was declining, which made dealing with that easier. Fate was looking out for me then.

I’m feeling hopeful that in 2016 I could start a new treatment plan. If I’m doing better, maybe I can get some of my independence back, start driving again, and start thinking beyond that (like working or volunteering). I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself, but I am hopeful. Getting some of my independence back and playing music again are my ultimate goals. 

In many ways, I feel like despite my limitations I need to try to live the fullest life possible not just for myself but for my mother as well—for the life she was denied the last few years. Sometimes, hope is the only thing that is tangible in an uncertain future. In the meantime, as I make the most of life right now and wish for a better tomorrow, that’s what I’m holding fast to. 

My wish for myself, for you, for all of us in the coming year is health, happiness, and continuing to avoid injury by flaming water skis or orca attacks. We deserve that much at least. 

Surviving the Holidays

 A sense of panic starts to awaken around October, as Christmas decorations start furtively replacing Halloween decorations and the realization that the holidays are upon us. When you are chronically ill, the holidays offer added stress and panic. In the online communities I’m part of, I have already noticed the anxiety levels increasing with questions like “How will I prepare a meal?” “How do I get my house ready for guests?” “What do I talk about?” etc. My anxiety about the holidays started in September. Spoonies are great at finding solutions in difficult situations. We’re professional survivors, so I think it’s safe to say that we can find solutions during the holidays as well.

Holiday gatherings and parties are taxing for anyone, but for Spoonies they are especially challenging. For me, this year will be different. I’m not working and I have become home-bound. I have been able to do less and less over the years, but this year will be all about survival. My biggest concern is the New Year’s Eve party my husband and I always have at my parents’ house every year. Throwing a party is out of the question for me at the moment so my husband will have to do most of the work unfortunately, which he understands. Sometimes, this is reality. My goal is to be able to show up for the holiday gatherings and this party. If I can accomplish that, I’ll be over the moon.

Here are some suggestions to consider for the holidays and I would love to hear if you have other suggestions:

1.  Plan Ahead
I’m sure many of you are like me: I have a very careful plan whenever I leave the house and I try to prepare for all contingencies. This may mean bringing medication, mobility aids, fluids, etc with you.  If you are going to a friend or family member’s house, you may need to discuss your needs with the host or your family members. You may need extra care during a gathering but no one will know this unless you communicate it.

Maybe you’ll have to break up your preparations over a few days because you know that trying to do it all in one day will mean you can’t enjoy yourself or you’ll end up bed-ridden. You can even make a list or a plan for yourself if that helps.

If you have to travel, have your emergency supplies on hand with you. I have a giant purse that has water, salt, meds, and protein in it at all times. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best. You know how many spoons you have so conserve and use them judiciously.

If you are spending the holiday alone, as Spoonies must do sometimes, prepare to have a restful and enjoyable day. Do something for yourself and know that spending time alone means you can celebrate on your own terms and manage your health without extra stress or pressure.

2.  “What do I say?”: Listen

I saw someone mention this and I often ask myself the same question. I’m not working, I only leave the house for appointments, I spend most of my time managing symptoms, and I’m re-watching Downton Abbey for the thousandth time. What do I have to discuss with anyone? Sometimes illness can be the elephant in the room when you are with friends and family, but it does not have to be a focal point. You only have to discuss whatever you feel comfortable with.

Although some Spoonies do not have a vibrant external life, this often strengthens a person’s internal life. Whenever I think of this exchange, I think of Emily Dickinson. We still have much to share.

It can be difficult to not feel sad or even resentful when you hear others discuss working, traveling, or exciting social lives, but holding to this negativity will never lead to happiness. These feelings can take us out of the present and make us feel worse about our quality of life. I have found a lot of joy in just listening to others discuss what they are doing and living through those experiences vicariously. I think illness has given me the gift of being a better listener and living more in the present. This can make you more compassionate as well. Share your ideas and thoughts and enjoy listening.

3. Ask for Help

This reiterates the first point. If you know that an activity or condition will sink you, ask for help. Maybe you’ll have to delegate cleaning or cooking. Maybe you’ll have to explain your dietary needs. Asking for help is anathema to my nature, but I’ve learned the hard way that every time I didn’t ask for help when I should have, I ended up not succeeding.

Don’t set yourself up for failure. You know more than anyone else what you are capable of and your limitations so communicate this. Hopefully you have people in your life you can rely on and trust so you can communicate that this time of year is especially challenging because they may not know this.

I have a very specific diet, so sometimes I bring my own food or eat before a gathering. Maybe you’ll need to bring a chair to sit in. Do whatever you have to do. It’s easy to ignore our own needs to maintain the appearance of functionality or to not create distraction, but your self-preservation is the utmost importance. Going to parties and being part of celebrations is a rare treat for many Spoonies, so do whatever you have to do to enjoy it.

I’ll be bringing a blanket to our NYE party so that I can lie down in one of my parents’ rooms throughout the party because I won’t make it otherwise. I’m also going to adjust my medication schedule and hydrate all week to see if I can last for a few hours. I’ll put on a smile and do my best to enjoy it.

4.  Celebrate

Maybe the overwhelming stress, the sight of singing Santas, and having to hear Paul McCartney’s “Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time” one more time is putting you over the edge, but it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that this is a time to celebrate. Find something to celebrate, whether it’s spending time with friends and family, cheating by eating food you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to eat, or getting to wear something sparkly. Carve out some celebration and enjoyment for yourself.

I thought the last two years were difficult, but this year was the most difficult year health-wise for me by far, but I feel like a warrior for surviving it. I know that I can continue to survive it. That’s worthy of celebrating.

Even if you don’t have anyone or many to celebrate with, celebrate yourself. If you can't go to a gathering, you can celebrate on your own terms. You made it through another year of battling illness with dignity and grace. Your strength is worth celebrating!

I wish you symptom-free days, chocolate, and lots of joy for your holidays. How are you going to enjoy yourself despite your illness?