Breaking the silence about pain

I have many family members and friends, but the truth is that there is just a fairly small circle of people that I started letting in on my secret a few months ago. Unless of course you have seen me often in person, in which case you know what has been happening at least a little bit. You and I both knew that something wasn't right.

It started back around 2011 actually, when I think back. I had over the years started being able to do a little less energy-wise even back at my graphic design job in 2006. It just seemed like I was always warn out at the end, especially considered increasing stress from a supervisor that was steering me away from what I was good at into taking care of all of the departmental leftovers that nobody wanted. So when I quit that job and went back to school I experienced a certain amount of upswing. By 2011, I was finishing my thesis to wrap up grad school, had that deadline followed by having to help clear out my grandmother's house to sell it, and two weeks later move ourselves.

By the end of 2011 my health crashed. I spent a few months fighting off illness. But even throughout 2012 and well into 2013, I couldn't possibly think of getting gainful full-time employment. I had a friend who gave me some work, but even the part-time work was exhausting me.

I started progressively dragging. I had gained much more weight than I had liked over time. I was increasingly sluggish and my attempts to increase my physical activity seemed to always end in disaster after a couple of weeks. I would have shoulder pain, knee pain, and/or ankle pain. The benefits a person should see from increased physical activity would never fully materialize.

At the same time we were facing a possible move to another part of the state, so I couldn't get a job full-time and juggle house hunting. So, in the mind of my family, I was sort of employed by them as personal house hunter.  That took several trips, multiple rounds of disappointment, but ultimately it turned out for the best. We didn't need to move up north after all, which was good because we were having a hell of a time trying to find a place that was both affordable and worth moving that far.

By the time 2014 rolled around, something changed. I started trying more fervently to lose some weight and possibly get my health back so that I could start trying to work at least part-time.  Instead, while eating better made me feel psychologically better and was benefiting other members of my family, the improved food life was not changing the fact that I had started developing swollen finger joints, and all of the roving pain I experienced when trying to exercise was just getting worse. And I started feeling tired. And more tired. And even more fatigued. And then I had a cold that thoroughly kicked me, we moved to another house, and my pain was so bad that I could hardly move. I had a gorgeous upstairs bedroom that I had to creep slowly up the stairs to every night. I would wake up every couple of hours, and have an incredibly hard time just making it to my bathroom. I finally needed a cane just to get there because both knees hurt, but my right knee was really bad. Hobbling there was the only option.

Again, I tried changing my diet, finding that there were some foods that certainly made my situation worse. I had gotten acupuncture which helped my knees get more functionality back.  But nothing solved my fatigue, my swollen joints. my incredibly pain-filled hands, or the way that I could just never find a normal. Never find a day without pain anymore.

So I finally went to the doctor. Being out of work meant that I really didn't have financial means unless I put even more financial burden on my family. But after a verbal consultation with my family doctor, he recommended I go ahead and file paperwork and get on state funded healthcare. So I did.

So after all these months and a full blood panel I now have medication and answers. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and Hypothyroidism. While I am now about the same as I have been for weeks, I am not doing any worse. I am on medications that should start helping in a few weeks.

Everyone in my family knows now what my official diagnosis is. My illness has a name. I can admit now that I need more assistance opening everything, have someone else cut things for me because I can't operate a knife without hurting my hands. I can get special tools to assist me because I know this isn't some transient moment, but something I'm likely going to be dealing with for the rest of my life. I don't have to feel guilty because I can't hang out with friends because my pain is too bad, or I'm too tired and need a nap.

I don't even have any objections from my family because I want to cut my hair really short and make it easier to actually wash and dry, and not have to have my shoulder, wrist, and hand scream at me while I try to get my hair dry and styled. Everyone really understands that I have to do these things for me whether anyone else thinks a short hair style will actually be flattering on me. I have to do what's best. To adapt. To learn how to tackle these new issues.

I have also learned that opening up about your needs can garner new friends and allies. People who you didn't know where also suffering in silence can relate to your problems.

Maybe all of us need to open up a little more often and tell the truth about our pain. Not for pity, or to garner attention to ourselves, or to ask for crazy home remedies, but to bolster each other. To understand that many of us are suffering with chronic illness in silence unnecessarily.

Sometimes we just need to know that others understand without judgment or pity.

Rejoicing in the gradual victories

I'm not sure where on the happiness scale losing weight falls, but for me it's one of the great joys.

This week marked two fantastic milestones.

Number One: I was able to button and zip an old pair of jeans. Since at least 2011 and possibly a while before that, I had been unable to comfortably fit into the majority of my jeans. So I had bought other knit pants, and loose fitting items to "get me by" until I could lose a couple pounds or buy new pants. And so, because I obviously had been unable to lose the weight, I had gone ahead and continued to restock my wardrobe. I muddled through with mostly knit and elastic waist items, finally breaking down last year and getting a hold of a couple of pairs of inexpensive jeans two sizes up from those jeans collecting dust in the back of my closet.

So when it was time last week to give up on wearing my long-sleeved sweaters anymore and to truck out my shorts and sleeveless tops for our early summer weather, I decided on a whim to throw on a pair of jeans.  They were never my favorite during an extended period of fashion when there was nothing but low-waisted and really low-waisted jeans. But these jeans did the job. They were good jeans. But I was too overweight to wear them.

Now I slipped them on. Thinking I would do my usual deep breath and have the button and zipper not come anywhere meeting. Luckily I was wrong.

No more snug than any pair of freshly washed jeans, I buttoned and zipped and sat down in them and did a small jig around my bedroom. I am able to fit in to some jeans TWO SIZES SMALLER than I was in January.

This was worthy of enough rejoicing. Yet even more would come today.

Number 2: I have lost 19 lbs. I am starting to see numbers on my scale I have not seen in 3 or 4 years at least.  I'm thinking closer to four.

Seeing the scale reading this morning almost made me cry with joy.  And this is only the beginning.

I have a long road yet ahead of me, but to have already made such good progress gives me joy and hope.

And if eighty percent of success is showing up, I'm going to continue to show up. And knock down the walls. And work my way methodically to a better version of me.

The Fat Fatwa: Recognizing What's Really Important

I knew that last week was going to be a bad week for weight loss. I didn't lose a single pound.

Why? I was traveling.

People who are living a fit and active lifestyle take advantage of things like on-site fitness centers while they travel. However, I had not done any really intense exercise in a while and knew that while on vacation was NOT the time to start. While maybe someday I can be one of those people who makes sure they hit a treadmill before leaving for the day, right now I am not that person. Right now I am that person who hasn't quite gotten past periods of being tired and ill and injuring too easily. Right now, I have to focus on the larger goal of getting healthier as my first priority.

So what do we do? We sort of toss the dieting aside for a few days when we're down. Really what matters most in such times is getting ones health back before we start trying to toss some pounds aside.

However, this doesn't mean we totally give up. We don't continue to shrug off recording our food, our exercise, and watching what we eat. But there is an inevitability isn't there? We cannot be sticking to our programs rigidly every moment. Sometimes we have to let it go just for a time to get through.

But that doesn't mean we abandon our project altogether. Our lives are too short, too wonderful, and too precious to give up on our goal of self-improvement.

Why am I saying this? Because I had lost a few pounds, gained some back and then stayed there between this week and last. And this is mostly because I was traveling and then sick.

I also say that we must press on, because this week I found out my big loss was of a long ago friend whom I had lost touch with, who succumbed to cancer. He was a year older than me. He was always a vibrant individual, but to know he suffered and died is tragic.

For the living it reminds us of why we are losing weight. Why we are fighting this fight. Why we must not give up.

Because life is too short to waste any precious moments.

My Fat Fatwa: Episode One

To start off my blog again, to return to the blogosphere in a dramatic style, I would like to announce that I joined Weight Watchers.

This all began innocently enough. I was watching television with my family, and my dad pipes up and recommends, out-of-the-blue, that I should join Nutri-System.  I pointed out that I didn't think they would have the selection of frozen, pre-packaged foods that I would totally be on board with.  Every commercial featured a cheesy, dairy-filled commercial with milkshakes and the whole nine yards.  As a member of the lactose intolerant this would wage unmitigated gastrointestinal blitzkrieg.  And I'm pretty sure that the selection, while good, isn't good enough to keep me satisfied in the long term.  And I know that the transition from pre-packaged food to real everyday eating habits can often cause issues.

So I pointed out that if I was going to do something like that, I had been more thinking about joining Weight Watchers.  It had worked a little at one time when I attempted it before. Before life got even more complicated, stress had piled on, and everything changed again. 

And so it began.  I thought about it, and decided that I would take advantage of sign-up fees being waived and try to plow into the whole weight loss thing again.  I signed up, and am now in the midst of trying to completely readjust my life.

What I had found most frustrating lately, is the ads, magazines and such. All of the success stories I see on television talk about how easy it was with their plan.  I absolutely refuse to even try Jenny Craig, not only because it doesn't seem any different from Nutri-System, but also because the women look worse than they did when they were heavier.  The after person is supposed to look gorgeous, vivacious and healthy, and invariably the people they choose look less healthy and attractive at the end.  No thanks.

That's awesome that your plan helped you lose 20lbs. Even 35 lbs. Awesome. Actually, you looked great before you lost weight. Now try needing to lose more than 50lbs.  That's where I am.  That's where most of the people I know who try to lose weight are. 

Can we get real here? Weight loss isn't easy no matter which plan you choose. One year I tried doing the South Beach Diet, and felt like I was in an uncomfortable, fatigued fog all the time.  It was awful. Your shake, even if I am lucky enough to be able to consume it, will not bring about lasting change.  

Even calling it a "lifestyle change" seems misleading to me.  Let's lay it all out here on the line.

Weight loss is more like trying to win the Iditarod in a self-made sled made of Churros powered by squirrels.  Or attempting to climb Mt. Everest in a bikini with suction cups on your hands. 

If you watch a show like The Biggest Loser you find people really brutalized in order to lose a bunch of weight.  Guess what? Even if you're not in a gym for hours with a personal trainer and abiding by their plans, it's going to feel like you are being brutalized.

And here I am, by the way, a few days in. If you are like me, are you going to be a happy camper a few days in? I think if you're doing it right, no.  And by the way, this idea that if you just follow this thing or that thing that it will absolutely work.  You know what I think works? Is finding what is closest to something you might kind of be able to do.  That's the best we get. The best we can hope for. Is something maybe that we can do.  Maybe.

I don't think I'm alone. I think the only avenue for change is a glimmer.  Not much to hang our hat on, but let's give it a go.  

Things I Would Tell My Twenty-Year-Old Self

After seeing the absolutely delightful blog from Miss Riki, talking about things she would tell her teenage self, I thought it would be only fitting to have a chat with my twenty-year-old self.

To give a little background, scene opens.  It's 1992, and I am fresh off of taking a couple years at my local community college to find out that I am disillusioned with becoming a fine artist, finding that I would be facing a life of abject poverty as an artist and would have to try to pull a good grade out of an art history course that would have tanked my GPA immediately.  So I dropped the course and the major.

With that in mind, I had spent the prior year just taking general ed courses for the sole purpose of attending school somewhere else.  That somewhere else ended up being a small, church-sponsored bible college out of state.  My thought in this is that I could get a degree in Liberal Arts or possibly English, teach somewhere eventually, and get some social interaction that could eventually lead to acquisition of a husband.

However, October 17th of 1992 I would be embarking on my first semester and life was not a bowl of cherries.  More like the pits.  I had an insufferable roommate who was anal-retentive level tidy, whereas I have always been chaotic.  My moderate dyslexia has made it nearly impossible to consistently lay out a routine for organizing my things, so periodically I will naturally misplace generally every item that is important to me.  I was struggling to fit in within a dorm of very different, rebellious, spoiled girls and the girl that slept in the bed next to mine was as opposite as one could get.

It was depressing.

I also had constant lies and manipulations from a girl who would try at every turn to sour my friendship with her male friend and make me look like a psycho-stalker to try to kill interest amongst any other males on campus.  In other words, it was a social scorched earth campaign.

On top of this I was floundering in my bible classes, under a very oppressive grading system that had been implemented to supposedly inspire us to greater things (because according to the college president we were slackers and didn't deserve to be there--his words.)

Depression, exhaustion, and homesickness were all setting in on this October 17th.

As I step into my wormhole/time machine, I'm taking a stroll and going to find my younger self, sit down in the dining hall, and have a meal.  I am disguised so as not do too much to disrupt the space-time continuum, because otherwise, all I will do is create another parallel universe for myself where I do things drastically differently.  And how will that help, really?

I don't need that much of a disguise. I'm older and much heavier, so I'll don a hat, large semi-dark glasses so as to not be recognized.  I will pose as an upper classmen. As I sit with myself and other student friends, I'll wait until they have left, and ask to chat a few minutes about the experiences here.

As my true identity is revealed to me, I will carefully choose my advice as follows.

1) Enjoy your body.  I know that's a weird thing to say to a total stranger, but really you think you're too heavy now and you're just right.  In fact, you're in pretty darn good shape.  Appreciate this fact and savor it, because the older you get the harder it will be to come back to.  And likely, you will be ready to sell your right arm at my age for the chance to be a size 12/14 again.

And also along that same vein--even though your glasses are a little big and your hair is still frizzy, people fall in love with your hair.  No seriously, they love your hair.  And they won't tell you how much they love your hair until years later when they reveal that they bemoan every time you get a haircut.

Even with short hair you'll look adorable and they don't have to care for your hair, so don't worry about it.  Wear your gorgeous hair with pride.  It'll be beautiful at every length.

2) Enjoy this time in your life. Whenever you look back on this, despite this being a really tough year for you, things are about to get significantly better.  This tragic and pitiful fool that is making your life miserable will soon be departing, so don't let her sully your memories of a beautiful friendship.  And your male friend that you have a crush on, it's perfectly okay.  You'll remain good friends and he won't think you're a psycho despite her best efforts.  In fact, he will encourage you to let the real you be seen more often.

3) Don't be afraid to become the person you're meant to be.  Girl, you are meant to be loud and audacious sometimes. Don't be afraid of that! Flirt, be loud, be funny, and don't be afraid to be yourself even though you are very different from those around you. Really, different is good, and you are making friends right now that will appreciate those differences in every way. Even though some will argue that "She's got a great personality" is a way to say you're not pretty, it actually is a huge complement.  When other people are left with only their looks and a sucky personality, you'll be totally set.  Looks come and go, but a passionate and loving soul lasts forever.

Honestly, one day you will find that you are the life of the party and you won't understand how in the world that happened when in these days you were an outcast.

4) Pay attention to the shy guys.  Some of them will be your friends forever, and some will be there and gone again, but the ones that again have a great personality will be the ones that stick with you always. Not only that, but they will help you make memories that you will treasure always.

In fact, you will long after miss the social life you had at this time, so cherish every date even when it's just a few.  There will come a day when you have a really tough time getting dates and memories will sustain you.  I know...buzzkill right?

5) Being single isn't all bad.  Just know that while marriage has many advantages, and while some stupid people under the guise of helping will try to say that you have to be in a certain place spiritually before God will allow you to marry, it's all poppycock. It's life. Some people are lucky and/or blessed to get married much younger.  Some are not.  They will struggle with relationship issues, dirty diapers, and a host of things that come with being married that you will not.  You will struggle with being lonely and feeling unworthy, but you've dealt with that devil all your life.  So don't worry about it.

If it happens it happens, and if it doesn't it doesn't. We all have our crosses to bear. What's important is to enjoy these moments and these relationships now and not worry about future romances or lack thereof.

But what you should know, is that marriage doesn't equal spiritual superiority by any means.  It means they took a chance on love that panned out, and were smart enough to get legal paperwork to make separation of their property a little easier to legally sort should everything go south.  So don't go kicking yourself around because you aren't married and having kids at the same time everyone else is.  There is no contractual obligation for life to provide you with lifelong love and children, and having none of these things doesn't make you less of a person.  So don't ever let anyone tell you different.  Just find happiness in other endeavors and let the chips fall where they may.

6) Your dreams will change--and that's not a bad thing. Every time you make a career decision that seems like a solid plan, life and circumstance will tell you different.  So your response should be to just go with it.  You will have opportunities come up and things that you never expected to be doing that you will do because it utilizes your skills. In fact, be completely open to utilizing your skills in new and exciting ways.  Don't feel guilty for exploring different means of using your skills.  These can lead to all sorts of possibilities even when life seems to have presented you with all sorts of unexpected dead ends.

As I leave my stunned twenty-year-old self wondering if she should call security on the crackpot 40-year-old that was spinning one hell of a tale, I go back through my distortion in the space-time continuum, and bid my past self adieu, knowing that it is a time that will gladly be left behind but with the knowledge that I gave my past self a little comfort and consolation.

And that future self is perfectly okay with the struggles and rough edges that made her who she is today.

Finding motivation

There are a number of things on my list of items that I find particularly difficult to motivate myself to do.

Chores fall into this category.  Laundry and cleaning are incredibly unmotivating when it's unseasonably hot outside.

But as a new year and a new decade of my life open up, I am often struck by how hard it is to get motivated to do things that will give me more energy and better motivation.

One of the biggest universal chores that my friends and I find it hard to motivate ourselves to do is exercise.  I say chore, and some of those who always had fun, athletic, bramble about the field childhoods don't know what I'm talking about.  While I didn't grow up drastically overweight, I did grow up clumsy.  I had flat feet that required orthotics and was moderately dyslexic.  This made all team sports the bane of my existence.

In junior high I sprained my ankles eight times in two years.

I sprained my hand doing shot put.

I dislocated my shoulder when I tripped on the sidewalk on the way home from art class in college.

I've had whiplash and hurt my low back lifting something too heavy at work.

I tore a piece of cartilage in my right knee in 2000 during a move.

In sum: I'm a mess.

So exercise always makes me weary, for I know that bad outcomes loom large. One wrong move, and I'm out of it.  Add allergies to the mix and I'm likely to have multiple coughing fits.

However, I now have two of my closest friends and I creating a support group.  Normally I hate recording my exercise, but for each other we now have a goal.  A movie or a light lunch or some treat at the end for a winner and as a trophy none other than the patron saint of lost causes, St. Jude.

We create a chart each month giving ourselves a point each day for the exercise we clock in, even if it's shorter than we would like.  We still did it.  It counts.

While I've never been one to like the whole physically exercising with other people thing (the emptier the gym was the better), there is something very comforting about having friends to share in your collective misery.  You can look at your friend's progress and say, "Okay.  She dragged herself out and did it.  I need to as well."

At the end of the month, we have our own little ceremony. We hand the St. Jude over, do a little acceptance speech, and have a hilarious moment in a restaurant.

Even though I haven't lost a ton of weight yet, and even though I've slacked off a few times, I find it much easier to get back to it, knowing that I've got others waiting to see my progress.  To cheer me on, and likewise I can cheer them on.

So really, it's not about magic formulas, or particular websites.  It's what works for you, drives you on, and keeps you motivated.

So whatever you are dragging your feet on tonight, know that it just takes a little help from your friends. A little motivation can go a long way.

Sidelined by pain

“Pain is not a sign of weakness, but bearing it alone is a choice to grow weak.” ~Lori Deschene, Tiny Buddha

Sometimes I think we live in the most preposterous society.  Our fierce determination and independence leaves us with the misconception that we must do everything on our own.  


I often believe we go through pain and suffering because we need to learn to rely on others even when it's not something we want.  To be that vulnerable is weakness, we think.  


But pain is a part of being human.  To share it lifts our burden, and to allow others to help us draws us closer together.  But yet we still resist.


I haven't been able to post for a good few days here mainly because I had been sidelined by pain.  Even now as I'm typing, I'm feeling that growing feeling of swelling irritation in my joints that tells me that I cannot do this for long without risking another day of barely being able to hold a glass let alone grip anything.  It is a humbling thing to not be able to simply open a bottle of a favorite beverage, or to rip open a package without assistance.


When you are fairly young, and have to rely on others this way, I believe it grounds you in what is true, and who is most faithful in our lives.


So while I don't wish pain on anyone, I believe it is an inevitability as intrinsic to humanity as joy and love.  Perhaps if we spend less time holding it to our chest, we might be able to let some of it go and come out better for it in the long run.

Things that help me LML

Okay, so I might not ever jump like this.  With general joint pain and other body inflammation issues, it stands to reason that this is nearly impossible.

However, there are days when my insides like to do this, and today is one of those days.

My cousin started her own campaign to LML (Love My Life) as opposed to the FML people often post on Twitter and Facebook often expressing petty displeasure at some problem most would describe as a "First World Problem."  And by First World, we mean problems that only occur as petty inconveniences as opposed to third world problems like sheer survival not delays in our Amazon.com box delivery.

Today, I would indeed like to celebrate a few things that help me LML just a little more.

1) I sold my first two used items on Amazon.  I frankly wish all sales website were put together that easily.  I would definitely sell EVERYTHING I would like to sell through Amazon.  It's just that good.  I was able to publish the shipping label and purchase postage all from my computer and at a slight discount.

2) I received pain relieving cream.  It's called Penetrex and helps about 18 different issues.  It is supposed to take a few days to really kick in, but I'm already feeling some benefit and I don't need to feel like a social pariah because the stuff doesn't stink or make me smell like either a giant Wint-O-Green Lifesaver or a Menthol Cough Drop.

3) I also received a trackpad that I purchased.  After noticing that I didn't feel as much hand pain working on my laptop as I did with my mouse, I realized much of that was due to the trackpad.  So now I have a wireless Logitec Touch Pad and it's awesome.

So yeah.  Life was just made a little sweeter.  And it definitely is an LML day.

Hidden gems

I don't know about you, but I have come to realize that marketing can be huge.  Sometimes the power of say commercials can cause a television network to dump an otherwise successful show, or can doom a movie to be a flop simply in the short clip presentation.

Lately I have become aware of the priceless nature of finding the hidden story.  Lurking out there are stories that someone should be reading, and movies we should be watching because you will walk away feeling happy, enriched, and perhaps even appreciating life a little bit more.

This week, I have encountered two such movies.  The first was "We Bought a Zoo."  My guess is that the people putting the clips together to advertise on television latched on to exactly two plot points:


1) There is a cute little girl.

2) There are zoo animals.

Cute girl + zoo animals = schmaltzy kids movie.

WRONG.  So wrong.



These are NOT the point of the movie.  If I were to give a fair summary, I would say this movie is about reinventing yourself after tragedy.  It is about family.  It is about determination.  It is about hope.  It is not about cute kids and parading animals.

While I personally love superhero movies, things exploding, and spies jumping off of skyscrapers, in a world as tense as ours is these days we need things that keep hope alive.  That celebrate the goodness in people.

Love and determination I believe are themes that we can't dismiss.

And not Hollywood love, either, but demonstrations of loyalty, courage, and generosity.

Which brings me to my second undervalued movie this week, which is "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel".

What I believe this drama suffered from was an older cast.  What should be an asset, in the eyes of marketing, becomes a hindrance.   While the movie stars what I consider to be some of the best actors over the age of 50 out there, they are all older.  And the movie is about being older, but also about getting out of your comfort zone and living life to the fullest.

However, we've seen with successful television shows like "Harry's Law" that unless it appeals to an audience of 18-49, you don't exist.  Nevermind the fact that baby boomers are over 49 and assuredly financially strapped...so are 18-49 year olds.  We're all a little more cash poor than we were a few years ago.  Money is money.

I really believe that were this film marketed more and better it would have appealed to a wider audience, much like "We Bought a Zoo."  And much like the other movie, theater patrons would have been treated to solid acting, interesting dramatic plot, and a definite feeling of warmth and goodness to carry with you.

Truly there is value in film, much like literature, that leaves its mark on you for days and years afterwards.

Shouldn't we all be striving to take in films that enrich our lives?