A dozen years later…

July 21, 2023

Today is the anniversary of this blog. It’s a simple sentence with a lot of meaning behind it.

Back when I started this blog in 2011, I had ideas about what it would be and what it would mean. A lot of that worked out, some didn’t, and a lot I honestly can’t even remember. What I do know is that 12 years ago today, while I worked at a job but struggled to do anything else, I committed to this blog. I promised myself I would write every day to start, and I did. I wrote daily, even if it was just a small blurb. It was good for me to have that commitment. While I struggled so much, this was something I could do for myself.

This blog has helped more than I can say. The community and support here have been invaluable. Yet, you may have noticed that I’ve been writing less. While I no longer write every day, or even every month, this blog is not forgotten. In fact, in the two months since my last post, I have jotted down several ideas, and have wanted to write quite a few times. So why don’t I?

First, during the years of writing this blog, I also wrote a book. I published it under my real name, yet I want this blog to stay anonymous. I often post something on social media or in a newsletter that relates to my health. Later, I think about writing on that topic for this blog but I realize I can’t, because it would be too easy to link the two.

Second, I’ve been writing this blog for 12 years! Chronic illness is never-ending (that’s the whole chronic part, right?) so there’s always more to say, but it doesn’t always feel fresh and new. This particular post is #802. After more than 800 posts, it’s hard to feel original.

And finally, I’m tired. Just so tired. My medications have been off for a long time, and I have been trying to find a new doctor to fix things. (Side note: I’m seeing someone new in another month, and hoping that maybe this will be the one.) Meanwhile, I have fatigue. I also have to care for my own health, do the stuff of life (groceries, cooking, laundry), take care of my pup (yay, I have a pup! I’ll talk about him separately), and try to do small amounts of work in addition to, you know, trying to have some fun and see family and friends and DO THINGS. Something’s gotta give. Too often, this blog is one of those things. It’s not that I don’t care, just that I feel overwhelmed and because I take this blog and you for granted, I let it slide. But I shouldn’t take you for granted. You have been amazing. You have shown me support and provided so much great advice. I should offer more in return.

I want to say that I’ll start writing regularly again, but I don’t think I can make that promise. What I can promise, though, is that I’ll continue to think about things I want to write and that I’ll make more of an effort to write at least some of them. Because today marks 12 years of writing about a journey that still has a very long way to go. And I definitely have more to say about it.

4 Comments | Fatigue, Limitations, Milestones, Raves | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

A little fur goes a long way

January 13, 2022

One day I was in so much pain, I was barely holding myself together. I went to my chronic pain support group. As I spoke, I teared up. My friend sitting next to me gently placed her hand on my arm, on a spot that’s usually fine, but I winced and pulled away in pain. It was a bad day. Everything hurt.

After the meeting, one group member let her service dog off duty, and he happily went around the room soliciting pets. When I pet him, the pain melted away and I felt so much better. It wasn’t until an hour after I got home that the pain came back to the level it had been before. That’s when I knew that it was time to get a dog.

Or so I thought. I did try to adopt a dog before realizing that it wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t ready. I was devastated.

Fast forward 5 years, and I was in a different place, both literally and figuratively. Now I lived in a first floor apartment, so taking a dog outside wouldn’t involve any stairs like it had before, or the walk down a long hallway and then navigating an old-fashioned elevator with manual doors. I was also in much better health, all things considered. I had been dog sitting for several years and loved it, and knew that I could manage to care for a dog for a few days or a week at a time. Then the pandemic hit and my dog sitting petered out. People weren’t travelling, so they didn’t need me to watch their dogs. I missed caring for dogs so much, and needed to do something about it.

I had thought about fostering for a while, and I finally decided to try. With so many people volunteering, though, they didn’t need more help. I waited. Several months later I tried again, and was accepted to a program!

I have my third foster dog sitting by my desk now. I still want my own pup, but this has been an amazing experience, and it has shown me that, yes, I am ready to get a dog of my own! My hope is that 2022 will be the year. It’s going to take a while to find the right dog for me. I’m feeling very insecure about the entire thing. What if I choose the wrong dog? What if I can’t handle it? But every time I pet a dog, I feel so much better. I feel happier. I feel more relaxed. Even though I want the dog to leave, I love having them here.

That’s right, I want the dog to leave. Sort of. When I have a dog with me, I look forward to the day they go back to their owners (if I’m dog sitting) or get adopted (if I’m fostering). I’m tired, and I want to sleep a little later, not have to take walks at night, and have more time to myself. But every time they leave, I miss having the push to exercise regularly, I’m more tired despite getting more rest, my pain is worse, and I feel more alone. Life is simpler, but I don’t feel better.

Then the next dog arrives, and the first days of fostering are tiring and stressful as I learn about the dog and they learn proper behaviors. Then we settle into a routine and I love them and I don’t want to let them go. Still, there’s the part of me that longs for them to leave so I can rest. But they leave, and once again, I’m more tired and in more pain, and I miss having a furry friend around. Plus, the apartment feels so empty. On balance, I’d rather have a dog here.

As I type this, I’m looking into the big brown eyes of the sweetest boy in the world. He’s staring back, and just started to wag his tail. A dog won’t solve all my problems, and life won’t be perfect, but I sure would love to have a furry friend of my own around all the time. Well, most of the time. And the rest of the time, I’ll just have to deal.

Do you have a furry friend at home? Please share nice stories about how they help you to feel better mentally, physically, and emotionally!

So 2022 is the year for me to get a dog. I haven’t found the right pup yet, but I’ll be looking. And in the meantime, I’m lucky to have sweet furballs around to make me feel better.

4 Comments | Decisions, Isolation, Limitations, Raves, Symptoms | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Sometimes the bare minimum is plenty

November 13, 2021

I’ve been wanting to write for weeks but it’s just been too much. I’ve been having a really hard time lately.

Thanks to medication changes, my adrenals aren’t being properly supported, so I have both less energy and lower tolerance for handling stress. And in a few days I have a colonoscopy and endoscopy.

Colonoscopies aren’t a big deal for most people. Not that anyone loves getting them, but you just deal, right? Well, thanks to a decades-long history of medical trauma, medical procedures can be triggering for me. And thanks to decades of undiagnosed gastrointestinal symptoms, GI stuff is also triggering for me. So knowing that in two days I’m going to have to drink a formula that will probably make me throw up, and that will induce the kinds of GI symptoms that I’ve struggled with for most of my life, followed by a medical procedure, where I’ll be up close with people during a pandemic…. yeah, my anxiety is at an all-time high.

Logically, I know it will be all be fine. But logic isn’t helping. My therapist gave me some breathing and thought exercises which help, and I’m just trying to make it through this period. It’s rough.

To make it a little easier, I’m doing a few things that I don’t usually do:

  • I cried. I spent a lot of my life learning not to cry because if I did, people thoughtI was just trying to get attention. (Yup, as a 12-year-old with chronic pain, that’s what I was told by several doctors and teachers. Thankfully, my parents never thought that.) Now, I don’t cry easily. For a week I really felt the need to cry, but I couldn’t let it out. Finally, though, I cried. And then I sobbed. And then I sobbed some more. I cried a lot that day, and it helped a lot. I cried a bit yesterday. I’m still having trouble crying as much as I need to, but I’m working on it. It helps to let it all out.
  • I asked for help. I don’t do this often enough. I posted on my Facebook page, asking friends to make phone calls to manufacturers for me. I was trying to find a gluten-free version of the easier colonoscopy prep. I had made a few calls, but it’s so stressful. For one thing, making any of calls for gluten-free stuff is stressful and exhausting and I’m tired of doing it. But then, doing it for this purpose…. it was just too much. A fabulous friend did the research. She called everyplace on my list, then did more research to find more to add to the list. She struck out, but if she hadn’t called for me, then I would have felt like I had to, and I would have been upset with myself for “failing”, thinking that maybe if I’d made the calls it could have been easier.
  • I asked for help again. Several friends had volunteered to help with the calls, so when that friend struck out, I asked for more calls. Since I couldn’t get the easier prep, I wanted to get an anti-nausea pill to help with the one I’ll be doing. Again, I needed something gluten-free. Three people called pharmacies all over my area to ask which manufacturers they used for this med (there are quite a few who make it), and then called those manufacturers to ask if the med was gluten-free. Again, they struck out. But again, if they hadn’t done it then I would have felt like I had to. It was so great of them to make those calls.
  • I asked to borrow a puppy. No, really! I have neighbors with two of the sweetest, most adorable puppies. Both are house-trained and don’t chew on stuff, so they’re not too hard to watch. I asked if I could borrow one, and the timing worked out that I took one for an hour. He cheered me up SO MUCH! Dogs are great medicine. Normally I would have felt silly asking, but I’m glad I did. And they were glad their dogs could help.
  • I’m giving myself a break. My to-do list is short right now. Really short. And even then I know it’s ok if I don’t get most of it done. In a typical week this amount would be easy to do (my list is usually twice as long), but not now. For example, today’s list is: laundry (already in the machine – win!), vacuum (if it doesn’t happen, that’s ok), prepare some work for my volunteer gig (they know I’m struggling and that I may have to cancel tomorrow’s meeting if I can’t get it done, but I think it will be doable), walk (fresh air is good for me), and watch YouTube videos while relaxing with my knitting. My hope is to get everything done before lunch except the last two. That way, I won’t have anything I need to do this afternoon except enjoy a walk and relax on the couch. And honestly, the vacuuming is unlikely. And that’s ok. The rest of my week is even easier than today.
  • I’m avoiding anything emotionally taxing. When a friend brings up a stressful topic that isn’t necessary to discuss, I ask to change the subject. Stressful movies and books are on hold. I’m keeping it as light and easy as possible. Last night I watched an animated Disney movie and that was perfect.

Is this all enough to make me feel great? No, of course not. But it’s enough to make me not feel worse, and that’s a win. I’ll keep spending time with dogs, watching easy movies, doing my crafts. I’ll keep my to-do list short. I’ll ask for help. I’ll spend time with dogs. (Oh, did I say that twice?)

In a few days, after the colonoscopy, I’ll feel better. Once my medication is back to working properly, I’ll feel even better. (I tried to time things so that it would be back before the colonoscopy, but my doctors were really slow to get back to me about how to proceed after we got the test results.) This isn’t the post I planned to write. That one has to wait. And again, that’s ok. But it’s one that felt right to write. We all have times where we’re struggling more than usual, and it’s ok to do the bare minimum for a while. That’s definitely my plan for now.

6 Comments | Gastrointestinal, Healthcare, Kindness, Limitations, Medication, Rants, Raves, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex, Support, Symptoms | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

Update on the trip dilemma

September 17, 2021

Several weeks ago, I wrote about my Covid-related anxieties about attending an event for someone very close to me. I so appreciated all of your helpful feedback, and wanted to give you a quick update.

I spoke with so many friends and family. I spoke with my therapist. And you know what eventually helped me make up my mind? It was the comments on my previous post. Hearing from folks with chronic illnesses who are also extra nervous about Covid was so different from the many other conversations I’d had. And finally, I knew what I was going to do: I went to the event.

I was very nervous about it beforehand. I was nervous on the way there. I was nervous throughout the event. I kept my mask on. I only took it off twice to drink some water. I kept my distance from folks. I wanted to dance, but didn’t (which was better for my knees, but even with the knee pain, I would have gladly danced if not for Covid fears.) Of course people were talking loudly over the music, and I kept trying to keep my distance, which only made folks speak even louder. When everyone ate, a couple friends and I stood outside of the tent, away from everyone else. I felt bad. We were at the hosts’ table – an honor – and I wanted to spend time with them, but I just didn’t feel comfortable. The whole thing was stressful, but I’m also glad that I went. At the end, I briefly hugged my friend and her daughter. And it felt amazing.

Ideally, once I left then I would have felt 100% fine, but I have to admit that a tiny part of me was still nervous. I was definitely glad when a week passed without news of any problems. And then I forgot about it for a while. At one point I happened to realize it had been more than 2 weeks since the event and I breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was ok.

Thank you so much to everyone who helped me make this difficult decision. I’m glad I went, and I’m glad it’s over. I wish I could relax at a party with friends, but I’m just not there yet. Meanwhile, another friend is planning the same type of event for next year and none of us an even begin to imagine what things will be like that far out. I only hope it’s easier to make these decisions.

2 Comments | Decisions, Raves, Relationships: Family & Friends & Dating & Sex | Permalink
Posted by chronicrants

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