My new gym routine

January 1, 2020

If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably find this title strange. But it’s true, I have a new gym routine!

About 10 years ago, I got into my first gym routine. I had quit my job, and decided to take good care of my body during my time off. I found an inexpensive gym near me where 2 or 3 times each week I would lift weights as my physical therapist had taught me and do some pedaling on the recumbent bicycle. It went well until I got a job.

I tried to keep it up. I went to the gym a few times on lunch breaks, but it was too rushed. I went in the evening a few times, but I was so tired. Mornings weren’t an option; it was hard enough to get to work on time. I went less and less often before finally giving up.

I didn’t know it at the time, but my body was suffering. Untreated Celiac disease, improperly treated hypothyroidism, and the start or worsening of adrenal fatigue were taking their toll. Eventually I left my job and went on disability benefits. So many days, it was hard to walk to my car. The gym was out of the question.

This time around it’s totally different. My approach is, something is better than nothing. This won’t be true for everyone, of course. For a lot of people, even tiny bits of exercise will make them worse. I’m pretty sure I was at the point for a while. Still, I am remembering 15 years ago when I was having a tough time, and a friend encouraged me to lower the bar and do a lot less. Instead of taking a long walk, or even aiming for a shorter distance, I set a time limit. My goal was a 10 minute walk every few days. That’s it. Five minutes down the street and then turn around. I could walk as slowly as I wanted and needed to. This was a great start, and I found myself walking faster, going farther, in those 10 minutes. I no longer saw snails passing me by. Eventually I increased the time to 15 minutes, then 20. Of course, that was a long time ago, and my abilities are quite different. Still, I remember slowly building up from something so tiny.

For a long time now my medical practitioners have been encouraging me to exercise more, especially because they know that there is a gym in my apartment complex. Each time I tried, though, it went badly. Some days I was ok, but others I was exhausted and felt horrible for the rest of the day and sometimes even the following day. Since I never knew how I would feel, going to the gym felt too risky, so I often skipped it. If I had plans in the afternoon, I wouldn’t go in the morning. It was a big hassle. I had to change my clothes, get over there, lift a bunch of weights, ride the bike, get home, and shower. It was a lot!

This time is different. I figured something was better than nothing. Last year an occupational therapist wanted me to do a specific set of weights. Under her supervision it went well, but when my sessions ended and I had to keep it up on my own, I couldn’t, for all there reasons I just gave. I would have a setback after working out, then by the time I went to the gym again weeks (or more) later, I had to start over at a lower weight again. It was incredibly frustrating.

Then I started to think, since that one exercise is what I most want to do at the gym, what if I do only that exercise? No others. I wouldn’t exhaust myself because I wouldn’t do other weights or any cardio. I wouldn’t have to change my clothes; I wouldn’t be exercising my lower body so jeans and snowboots would be ok, and I wouldn’t be sweating. This also meant that I wouldn’t have to take a shower afterwards. I could even do my exercise on my way home from someplace.

For the past two months, I have been going to the gym twice a week. If I need to move a day because I don’t feel well, that’s fine. There’s no pressure. I simply want to keep going. I am only there for 5 minutes, if that. Yes, I feel self-conscious sometimes when folks see me walk in, and then see me leave mere minutes later. But you know what? It’s better than not showing up at all!

I was supposed to go to the gym today, but I strained a muscle in my neck and I am worried about injuring myself. There’s no guilt. No concern. I will go when my neck feels better. If I miss an entire week, that’s not the end of the world. I will not let it derail me. I hope I can get there tomorrow, though, because I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment, even though it is too soon to notice a big difference in my strength.

I am not doing a lot compared to my peers. This is small stuff. But you know what? I can’t get to the big stuff (ok, the slightly bigger stuff) without starting small. Some people can, but I can’t. That’s ok. And even if I never do more than what I am doing right now, at least I’m doing something. This is manageable, which means I’m actually doing it. This is my longest gym-going streak in the past 10 years and I plan to keep it up. Wish me luck!

Meanwhile, could this approach apply to something in your life? Maybe it’s exercise, a dietary change, cleaning your home, making new friends, or something else. Is there some way that the “something is better than nothing” approach could help you, too?


Gaslighting’s toll

December 17, 2019

If you had asked me a few weeks ago if I had ever been the victim of gaslighting by doctors, I would have said no. Which is sort of funny, because this blog is full of examples, written over the past 8 years. Somehow, I didn’t see it.

Sure, I knew that doctors had told me that it was all in my head. Or that I was making it up in order to get attention. But that’s not the same thing. Except as it turns out, it is.

My therapist used the word last week as we discussed this topic. As soon as she said “gaslighting” it clicked that yes, that’s what had been happening. A few days later, someone used the word again as they talked about medical professionals. And it all fell into place.

I have dealt with gaslighting by doctors for almost 30 years, so no wonder I get nervous about appointments. No wonder I have an inherent distrust of doctors. It makes sense that on dating apps, I avoid doctors and other medical professionals. It all fits.

The problem is, I still need doctors. I need them to order tests and to write prescriptions. Sometimes, I even need them to help me figure things out. The problem is, I don’t trust them. That’s why I was so surprised by a simple suggestion several weeks ago. I was debating whether or not to take a prescription. My symptoms had gone away before I had been able to start it, and I didn’t want to take it unnecessarily. Talking to my therapist about this conundrum, she suggested that I ask the prescribing doctor for his advice. Wow, I hadn’t thought of that! She wasn’t surprised. I learned a long time ago not to trust doctors. I figure things out for myself as much as possible. Still, in this case it made sense to ask, and I’m glad that I did.

I know there are good doctors out there. Some have them have been incredibly helpful. Not all of them subjected me to gaslighting. But just like I clearly remember the time I backed into a telephone poll while parking last month but have completely forgotten the dozen other times I parked in that same spot without hitting the poll, it’s the doctors who treated me badly who stand out most in my mind. They are the ones that scare me, that put me on edge, even when I know I still never see them again.

Sadly, I am not alone. There are many of us who have been subjected to this horrible treatment. It is no wonder so many of us distrust doctors and the overall medical system. I am now working on this with my therapist. I will never undo the damage that was done to me physically by ignoring my symptoms, but maybe one day I will have just a bit more trust in medical professionals? Maybe. Until then, if you have been, or are currently being, gaslit by your doctor, know that you’re not alone. And if you can, find someone better.


The all-too-elusive “day off”

December 4, 2019

I don’t have a job, but I work damn hard. Every day is long and full. Some days I go to medical appointments; some days I see friends, though not as often as I would like; some days I stay home and work on a long list of tasks. None of those are relaxing. Even when we don’t work traditional jobs, we need days off. As I sat down to write today, this felt familiar, so I did a quick search on this site and found that I’ve written about this before. In fact, I’ve written about this several times, and the past two were last December and the December before that. Hmm. That might be telling me something.

2019-12-03 09.08.11

I have been making more of an effort to give myself space for relaxing time. In August, during a couple of abnormally not-incredibly-hot weeks, I took several afternoons to sit outside and read a book or work on some writing. It was lovely. But a full day? That was rare.

This week we got a snowstorm. In the Boston area this isn’t odd, but it doesn’t usually come so early. I saw the forecast, looked at my calendar, and decided that I needed to take advantage of the strange weather. I was exhausted. I needed a break! And I had a big week coming up, too.

So I took a day off. I didn’t feel too sick to do things; I simply didn’t do them. I puttered around the house. I did some laundry, but now that I have laundry in my apartment (such luxury!) that’s not much of a chore for me. I chatted with a friend via video for a couple of hours. I spent at least a couple of hours reading a novel. I baked cookies. I watched the beautiful snow falling outside, clinging to trees and coating cars. My plan had been to spend a few hours watching tv while crocheting in the afternoon, but somehow I never found time for that. I still did it after dinner, though, like I do almost every night.

Several times during the day, I felt at a loss. I was supposed to be doing something, right? What was I supposed to be doing? What was it? I kept looking at my “to do” list for the day, which is always on my desk. But this time, it was mostly empty, just containing reminders to clear snow off my car, read a book, relax.

I somehow filled the day, and felt so good by the end of it. I needed that. The next day came part 2 of the storm and I wanted to take another day off, but I had too much to do. Still, it was a reminder that I need this. We all do. We need days when we aren’t trying to get lots done. I may not do a lot in a typical day by most people’s standards, but for me it’s a lot. It’s now 3pm and I have made several phone calls, gone to physical therapy, gone to the bank, answered some emails, eaten lunch. For me, that’s a lot, but it’s more than that: it’s the obligation. What I need is days without those obligations. Days of freedom, where I can do whatever I want, whenever I feel like doing it. Again, I think that we all need that sometimes.

Not to sound like a broken record (do people still even know what that means?) but I’m going to make an effort to take more days off. So far, I have succeeded in giving myself afternoons without obligation. Now it is time to give myself more full days without obligation. These will be days for myself, with no appointments, no plans, no lists of tasks to be completed. It can all wait. One more day won’t cause problems. It’s time. So from now on, I will aim for one day off every month. Wish me luck!

Do you take days off like this? Do you find it difficult to schedule them in, or easy to do? Please comment and share your experience with days off while disabled.


When even the good things cause stress

October 27, 2019

The thing people forget is that even good things cause stress. Like the party I recently threw.

We talk about stress as an emotional condition that’s bad and must be reduced. That’s not untrue, but it’s not the full story, either. When it comes to adrenal fatigue, all stress can be a strain on the body. I explain it to people by saying that winning the lottery could make me very sick, and I believe that’s true (not that I’ve had the chance to find out, unfortunately.)

We overlook that there are different kinds of stress. There’s emotional stress and physical stress. There’s stress from good things and from bad things. Obviously I would rather have stress from winning the lottery than from the death of a loved one, but my adrenals will suffer either way. They just can’t produce the necessary hormones to handle the stress.

I feel it if I don’t get enough sleep, if I walk too much, if my body is inflamed, or if I’m dealing with some other form of physical stress. When the stresses are both emotional and physical, it’s especially rough. That’s what happened earlier this month. Several friends and I threw a surprise party for a friend. The party planning was stressful. Then the night before, I slept horribly. Some of it was from worry over the party going well, but a lot of it was from pain, probably due to the rainstorm we had. I also had a friend staying with me for the weekend, since she came from out of state for the party. I was thrilled to have her visiting me! I love her, we’ve been friends for 30 years, and I wanted to hang out with her as much as possible. But I was also exhausted, and needed to rest.

It is so hard to balance my emotional and physical needs in a situation like this. Thankfully, I was surrounded by understanding people. I’m also very thankful for my current coping mechanisms. I used some stress-relieving techniques from my therapist. I took an extra dose of my adrenal medication. I used medical cannabis. I laid down for half an hour in the afternoon to just quietly breathe and relax my body. Between the physical rest and the emotional break plus the medications, I began to feel better. My friends didn’t expect me to do as much physical setup for the party, so I was able to sit more.

In the end, the guest of honor had a great time, we all had fun, and everything worked out well. But it was still nerve-wracking. I find it frustrating that even good things can be too much for me. I wonder if I get married some day, will I even be able to have the large wedding reception I’ve always wanted? Will I have the energy to dance at my own wedding? Probably not, and that saddens me so much. Of course, I am also single, so that’s a big hypothetical! Still, the point is, will the good things be so stressful for my body that I can’t enjoy them? Right now they often are. I just hope that won’t always be the case.


Advice between chronic illness folks

October 16, 2019

I don’t know about you, but it took me a looooong time to figure out how to handle flares. The truth is, I’m still learning. But over time, thankfully, I have found some things that help. Sometimes I take the learning process for granted; after all, I have had symptoms for almost 30 years now. A phone call a few nights ago changed that.

A friend was in the middle of a flare, and having a rough time. They were dealing with both the horrible physical symptoms as well as the emotional fallout of having to miss a much-anticipated event that night. There was also the all-too-common self-recrimination, wondering what they did to cause this. Maybe they should have done less the previous week when they felt so good. Maybe they should have rested more. Maybe maybe maybe.

I’m the queen of “what ifs” so I really get that. I do that to myself all the time, as much as I try not to. I’m getting better, but it’s still a struggle. This time, though, it was someone else who was struggling, so I was able to step outside of my own issues and help them.

My friend was only diagnosed last year, which really isn’t that long ago. It takes a long time to learn how to handle chronic illness. I wish I had had someone to guide me, but unfortunately, there was no one in my life at the time with that kind of experience. Now, I am glad I can be that person for others.

First, I talked my friend out of the emotional spiral. Sometimes our bodies are going to flare, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Maybe they did overdo it, but there was no way to know in advance. And maybe they didn’t overdo it, and there’s no way to know that, either. Maybe they could have done less last week, and they still would have had the flare, right? The weather was terrible; not only are we going through a seasonal change, but it was a very stormy day. There’s a good chance the weather was at fault more than anything, and what can anyone possibly do about that? Besides, once you’re in a flare, blaming yourself won’t help at all. And as much as we think we can figure out the cause and prevent the next flare, we can’t. Ok, sometimes we can, but to think we can do that every time is just unrealistic. That would imply there’s a way to prevent ever having a flare again, and we know that isn’t true. We only wish it were.

Once my friend was feeling a bit better emotionally, we talked about how to handle the current situation. I suggested some fun tv shows to watch, etc. But here’s where we get to the part I most want to share with you. Without thinking much of it, I mentioned some things I do that my friend thought was brilliant and it got me thinking, maybe not everyone does this? So let’s share our tips!

I know I will have more bad days. I don’t want them, but they are inevitable. So I prepare for them. Just like I have bandaids at home for the inevitable future cut or scrape, and acetaminophen for the inevitable future headache or fever, I also keep things around for future flares. Here’s a short list:

  • Fun, lighthearted movies saved on my Netflix and Amazon Prime accounts, plus a few old dvds.
  • Easy to watch tv series saved on Netflix and Amazon Prime.
  • Chocolate and other comfort food.
  • Frozen leftovers of healthy meals I have previously made.
  • Low-energy hobbies on hand. For me, this is currently knitting and crochet, which I enjoy on all but my worst days. I also like to read and listen to audiobooks when I feel up to it.

These work for me, but you will have your own items. On top of this, several years back I read a tip on Chronic Babe to make a list of things to do during a flare, since we can’t always remember these things when we’re dealing with tough symptoms. One problem I have found is that when I feel especially bad, I don’t even think to look at the list! So I recommended that my friend make a list, and tell several close friends and family members about it – anyone who they might talk to during a flare. That way, their friends and family can remind them to check their flare list, where they will find a list of things to do and ways to think.

My current list has fewer items like the ones above, which have become second nature at this point, and more items around my thought process, mostly recommended by my therapist. These help me to stop blaming myself or assuming things will get exponentially worse. I keep the list in the Google Keep app on my phone, so it’s always handy. Even if I don’t have the energy or am in too much pain to cross the room to my desk, I always have my phone on me. That’s key – keep your list where you can easily find it when you need it. Keeping it at the bottom of a heavy box on a high shelf is definitely not the most useful place for it!

It sucks, but we all know that we will have bad days, so we might as well prepare for them when we’re feeling ok. What do you to to prepare for the bad days? Do you have a flare list? What’s on it? Please share in the comments, because I’m certain you will have ideas that I and others haven’t thought of, and we all need to learn from each other!


Grieving all over again

September 30, 2019

Chronic illness is never easy, and some days it feels harder than others. Lately, what has been getting to me the most has been my limitations, especially the ones due to Celiac Disease. I am angry and resentful that I can no longer attend an event and eat the food, friends no longer invite me over to dinner, I can’t simply grab lunch someplace while I’m out for the day. I hate having to worry about every little trace amount of gluten, having to wash my hands carefully before eating or taking a pill or getting a hair off my tongue. I can’t stand that I will never again be able to spontaneously kiss someone without first making sure they brushed their teeth.

But why now? I gave up gluten almost eight years ago. Is it because the increasing restrictions and caution came on so slowly? It took years for me to realize how sensitive I was to gluten. Even so, it’s clearly bothering me more now than it ever has before.

It was my therapist who pointed out what should have been obvious: I was grieving. It’s natural to go through the 5 stages of grief multiple times with chronic illness. After all, we don’t suffer a single loss, but many losses, which come up at different times.

Thinking about this several days later, it occurred to me something else that should have been obvious: the reason this is happening now is because I didn’t have the capacity to grieve before. I didn’t even have the capacity to acknowledge the magnitude of my loss before. I was busy surviving. I gave up gluten just a few months after leaving my job. At the time, I still hoped to return. During the next year I realized I would not be going back to work any time soon, I eliminated even more gluten from my diet, I found a naturopath, I researched new doctors for my thyroid care, I signed up for government benefits, I hired a lawyer, and more. I didn’t have time to care about giving up gluten. Besides, back then I thought it was just a matter of giving up some foods. I didn’t yet know all of the other things I would be giving up.

Over the following years, I continued to research treatments, doctors, tests, and more. I dealt with government benefits, changing apartments, and other logistical issues. I started businesses and had them fail. It was a busy time, and I remained in survival mode.

And then it slowed down, in a way. I am not looking to move right now. My benefits are stable for the moment. My health is always a concern, but with the latest addition this summer of hydrocortisone, my brain fog has lifted and my energy has somewhat improved. My health felt more stable for a bit, my mind was more clear, and I was able to think. At the same time, in the past year I have come to realize more than ever just how cautious I must be about gluten. The two came together and hit me hard, all at once. It’s no wonder I’m grieving.

Add to all of that one additional fact: the permanence. All of my health issues are permanent, but there are degrees. My pain will never go away, but it could improve. My fatigue may or may not ever go away, but there’s hope that it will, or at least that it will improve. I can work towards these goals. But when it comes to gluten, there’s no way I will ever be able to tolerate even the tiniest crumb again unless there is some medicinal breakthrough. Maybe that will happen, but I can’t count on it. Right now, there are no treatments on the market. That means I can’t let down my guard at all, and possibly never will. Again, it’s no wonder I’m grieving.

The important thing now is to let myself grieve. I have lost a lot, and I have years of it all catching up to me at once. This is hard, especially for someone who prefers to avoid unpleasant emotions, but I know it’s important. So these days, I am trying to sit with my feelings, to acknowledge them. It’s not easy, but I know that one day the worst of the grief will pass. I may never again be able to kiss my mother on the cheek, but one day I will come to accept it and it will make me less sad.

Do you grieve your chronic illness’s impact on your life? Please share in the comments. Sometimes it helps just to share what we’re going through.


Trying to be careful without getting in my own way

September 18, 2019

I am super sensitive to gluten. I have known that for a long time, but it amazes me every time I get glutened. One time, the culprit seemed to be some grapes that someone (who had been handling bread) picked up and then put down, and which I then ate without realizing (until it was too late) that they had done that. This last time, I think it was gluten on my own hands that did me in.

Last month I wrote about starting a new medication and the difficulties in getting my doctor to increase my dose. What I didn’t know when I wrote that piece was that I had just been glutened. That might explain some of my increased anxiety, though not all of it. It definitely explains why I wasn’t responding enough to the medication. As soon as the gluten symptoms went away, I felt how much the new med was helping. That took 19 days. Yes, 19 days. Yikes!

For the first week and a half or so, I barely left the house. Then I started to venture out a bit as needed. The final week I was mostly ok, at least enough to resume most activities, despite the extra pain, fatigue, and bloating. After almost three weeks, the symptoms subsided. The thing is, once I realized that I had been glutened, I tried to figure out how it happened, and there was no obvious culprit. I had not eaten a single thing all week that didn’t come out of my own kitchen. I quickly narrowed down the possibilities:

  • Something labeled gluten free actually had gluten in it.
  • I didn’t wash some produce carefully enough.
  • Twice I ate a meal outside of my home. I brought the food with me. Maybe I got crumbs on the container and transferred those to my hands somehow, and then ate something with my hands.
  • I ate a sliced apple and after a slice or two I realized I hadn’t cleaned my hands.
  • I had a hair on my tongue. I did my best to remove it without using my fingers, just in case they were contaminated.

These all suck. They suck because I am already being so careful in each of these areas, yet I got glutened anyway. There’s no doubt that it was gluten, the symptoms were very clear. I will never know for sure how it happened, but I know that all of these are hard to avoid in the future.

Before this latest glutening I was incredibly careful. I promised myself that this wouldn’t change anything. I would continue to be as careful as I had been before, and I wouldn’t try to control things more. It’s not healthy for me to be so hypervigilant. It takes a severe toll, emotionally and physically, and it doesn’t stop me from getting glutened. It can’t. I will get glutened many more times in my life. I try to keep it as minimal as possible, but there’s only so much I can do, and I have to be realistic.

Yet I have found myself being even more careful over the last few weeks. I hate it, and I am trying not to let this control me, but I don’t know how to do things differently. I don’t want to get glutened again if I can help it, and knowing that it’s inevitable to some extent isn’t enough to make me relax when I am out and about.

For example, I played a card game with friends. They were all eating appetizers and cookies, and I was very aware that they were probably transferring gluten onto the cards that I was touching. I made sure not to eat anything without first washing my hands. That’s fine. The problem is how anxious I felt about touching the cards to begin with. It made me anxious to know I was getting gluten on my hands. I feel like my own body is constantly unsafe whenever I leave my home, and that’s no way to live.

I am trying not to worry about the many ways in which my own home is not completely gluten free. I am sure that my phone is contaminated from being out in the world. I don’t clean every item that comes into my home. Grocery packages probably have gluten on them. My purse probably has gluten on it. My winter jacket will probably have gluten on it. My library books probably have gluten on them.

And there is nothing I can do about any of those things.

I must learn to stop being scared of gluten. Yes, it can hurt me. It could even kill me. But I have to continue living my life, and I can not do that if I am always afraid.

I am trying. It is not enough, but it has to be enough for now. Because what other option is there?


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