Survived the Summer

It's been a hot one, that's for sure. Between the heat, the humidity, and the pop-up thunderstorms that periodically knocked out power, I think I am probably not alone in being grateful that summer is coming to a close and the temperatures have started to come down a little.

 

I was out for a jog the other day and saw that a few leaves were starting to change colors! Given that my mantra for the summer is to "survive until the fall," I found this to be a very hopeful sign and was ecstatic.

 

Despite the heat, though, things have still been going well. In the last 30 days, I've gotten slightly more than 100 miles under my belt. I'm feeling stronger all the time. And I even signed up for a 10K in October. Hopefully I'll be able to run that distance all at once by that time!

Miracles

So much has happened in the last month and I really need to get it down on paper. My life has completely turned around. The progress has been pretty steady since February, with my last serious episode taking place in early February, but the last couple of weeks have been truly amazing. I feel normal again. I have good energy, even when I am tired. If I stay up too late, I end up tired, but not bone weary to the point of incapacitation. And if I lie down to sleep, I awake feeling better. It is truly a miracle and I feel so amazingly blessed. Every single day I do things that two months ago were impossible to me.

A couple of weeks ago I went to California for the half ironman in which two of my brothers were competing. It was a fun vacation, with time in a beach house, lots of reading, playing with nieces and nephews, and just relaxing. It was a good opportunity for me to set boundaries and listen closely to my body – pushing it some, but not too much.

The very first thing about this trip that struck me was how different it was from my last trip, which was in November (to the Mayo Clinic). For that trip, I was barely able to make it onto the plane. It was, in fact, only by the grace of God and the help of a friend that I did. Holding myself upright was almost more than I could handle, let alone carrying my luggage.

But getting on the plane to California was a whole different ball game. I got myself to the airport, wandered around the airport lugging my carryon and laptop while I was waiting for the flight, got myself onto the plane, and even lifted my roller bag into the overhead bin. Granted, it was a bit difficult to do that last part and I ended up checking the bag for the second leg of the flight, but nonetheless, I was able to do it. It was amazing! I had the energy and strength to keep going. To talk, to eat, to walk up the jetway on my own power. I was even able to stand upright while waiting for my luggage at baggage claim!

Now, I know this probably sounds stupid and most people can’t really understand my excitement over these small things, but the contrast from just a few months ago is so amazing that I really can’t even believe it myself. Everything seems easier and better when compared to just a few months ago.

From California, I flew to Utah for another week.

The transition to Utah was a bit more difficult, due in part to the altitude and in part to the extreme exertion on the day before I traveled, coupled with a significant lack of sleep. My first day in Utah was pretty miserable and I spent some of it with my head in the toilet. But the next day I took it easy and within a couple of days, I was fine!

It is truly a miracle!

When I returned home about two weeks ago, I was amazed at how not exhausted I felt. I had thought I would come home fatigued to the core and that I would require some time to recuperate. But that was not the case. I came home feeling good. I’ve been at work every day since and have even started jogging in the mornings (sometimes) and walking home from work (sometimes).

Four days after I returned, I went for a jog in the morning before work, showered up, went to the office, worked nine hours, and then walked home (the long way) from work. It was 4.7 miles!

And last Friday, I went for a (very SLOW) jog in the morning, showered, went to work, went to dr. appointments, and then walked 5.5 miles home. At the end of the day I was tired but, again, not incapacitated. I feel like my old self again!

It’s hard to believe that I am the same person that 3 months ago could not take a shower in the morning because it wore me out so much that I could then not make it to work. It’s hard to believe that I am the same person who often couldn’t walk the couple of blocks to the metro to get to work. It’s impossible to believe that I’m the same person who, up until just a month ago, couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like I absolutely had to lie down immediately!

 

Miracles DO happen!

Who I Want to Be

A few days ago, I went to visit my grandmother in the hospital. She was awaiting surgery to amputate one of her legs. When I arrived, she was lying in the bed dozing. She had just received pain medication and it seemed to be helping. She roused herself and we started to talk, but it was clear that the medication was having the anticipated effect both on her pain and on her mental capacity. She was groggy and not altogether with it. Nonetheless, or maybe because of it, I was very impressed. She kept talking about how blessed she felt, how loved by God. She also kept talking about how proud she is of us and of her own kids. She kept saying how my dad did such a good job raising us. Her face shone with a beatific smile.

I know (and have experienced myself) the kinds of behaviors and inflammatory reactions that can come in the face of a scary and lifechanging event (like the amputation of a limb) and particularly when inhibitions are removed through the administration of pain killers. But I was impressed that when Grandma’s inhibitions were removed, what came shining through was her profound love of God and her deep devotion to Him. Her true eternal beauty was so evident.

I hope that when I am faced with challenges and pain I can react with similar fortitude, gratitude, and humility.

Validation, Radiation and the Post Office

A friend of mine recently posted a YouTube video on his facebook page and, although it's a little out of character for me, I actually watched it. Even though it was more than 16 minutes long. I loved the depiction of the impact of one person - one average person without a high-powered job, fame, or probably a fortune.

The video reminded me of a quote I'd heard the previous Sunday at church: "Every person who lives in this world wields an influence, whether for good or for evil. It is not what he says alone, it is not alone what he does. It is what he is. Every man, every person radiates what he or she is. Every person is a recipient of radiation...It is what we are and what we radiate that affects the people around us...The effect of our words and acts is tremendous in this world. Every moment of life you are changing to a degree the lives of the whole world. … So, it’s not the surroundings, it isn’t the positions; the thing that will influence [others] in this world, are personalities. No matter what you are people will feel and recognize this. You radiate, you can’t hide it. You may pretend something else, but that will not affect people." (from Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: David O. McKay, Lesson 24)

So, I started thinking about my own life and what I radiate. Do I validate people and reflect back to them their own wonderful, unique qualities? Do I radiate love and acceptance and support?

I had some errands to run on my lunch break and stopped at the post office. The line was pretty long. The two women working the counter did not look happy. The people in line looked impatient. My initial impulse was to join the line of impatient customers. I was in a hurry, after all. I only had so much time for my lunch break. But then I was reminded of Validation and Radiation and I started to look for something I could compliment the post office worker on when I finally got to the counter. Since I didn't know which woman would serve me, I studied them both and picked out qualities about their work that I felt I could truthfully compliment. When I reached the counter, I greeted the worker with a smile and told her what a great job she was doing in moving customers through the line quickly and efficiently. Although she didn't smile at me exactly, it was clear that what I said had a positive impact. It was also clear that she doesn't hear what a good job she's doing often enough.

I doubt that moment changed her life, but it changed mine. I realized that I really can radiate more positivity. I really can have a positive impact on the world around me, even though I inhabit only such a small corner of it.

It's All Relative...

I’ve been thinking about how relative things are. This week has been a little tough and one day in particular was a bit rough for me physically. I felt pretty under the weather and my boss even commented that I didn’t look good. But, I made it through the day and came home – rundown, tired, and ill-feeling. I had to stop to rest a couple of times, just to allow my blood pressure to stabilize after standing up too quickly. Nonetheless, I had made it home without passing out or even coming too close to it.

As I entered my apartment, my roommate asked me how my day was and I said, “It wasn’t my best day,” and went directly to bed. As I was lying on my bed, however, after having taken off my shoes and gently setting my bag down, I realized that I was wrong. A month ago, I actually would have considered this one of my best days - a day when I didn't crash land on the platform of the metro or at an awkward angle on my apartment floor or bed. This was a day when I had the strength and energy and wherewithal to take off my shoes and coat after arriving home, rather than sleeping in them.

Isn’t it amazing how things are so relative? And how quickly we take for granted the very circumstances that, in another time and place, filled us (or would have filled us) with immense joy and gratitude? How quickly we begin to whine and complain about something that, viewed from a different perspective, would be considered a grand blessing?

At first, my pondering led me to conclude that it's all relative. That everything is relative. But as I lay there longer, I realized that, in fact, everything is not relative. There are definitely some absolutes. It's how we perceive and contextualize absolutes, facts, and occurrences that introduces a sense of relativity.

So, moving forward, I hope I will be able to keep a broader perspective, recognize the blessings that come, and enjoy them in every and any context.

In the meantime, I am so grateful that my bad days now are not nearly as bad as my good days were a few weeks ago.

2.3

That is the number of a miracle. A miracle in my life. It is the number of miles I jogged today - very slowly. It may not seem like a lot. And it isn't. But two weeks ago, when I was barely able to make it all the way home from work and did not have the energy even to eat dinner after doing so, jogging 2.3 miles was just a far-away dream - an impossibility really.

Nonetheless, today, after a long six hours at work and an even longer three hours at the doctor's office, plus about two hours of total commuting, I was able to do it.

I think I'm starting to get my life back.

72 Degrees?!?!

72 degrees is arguably the most perfect temperature. In the summer, we set our air conditioning to 72 degrees. In the winter, we set our heat to 72 degrees. Spring and fall tend to be replete with 72 degree days. 72 degree days are days when you can sit under the weeping willow tree and read a book while water happily skips over the rocks in a nearby creek. On 72 degree days, you don't need a jacket or long sleeves. On 72 degree days, you can comfortably indulge in ice cream, go for a jog, and have a picnic. "72 degrees" conjures up an idyllic sun-filled image of bliss. One that is not often seen in the dead of winter.

Except for today.

What a beautiful 72 degree day!

My Life is a Fairy Tale

“Your life is a fairy tale.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered. It doesn’t feel like things have been going that well for me lately. And Prince Charming is nowhere to be found.

“Think about it. Before Snow White was kissed, she was taken into the woods to be killed, was poisoned, and had to clean up after 7 little dwarves. Before Cinderella was turned into a princess, she lost her father, was forced to work for her stepmother and stepsisters and was constantly humiliated. And before Sleeping Beauty was awakened by her prince, she was taken from her parents, raised alone in the woods, and was pricked by a spindle.”

My friend was right. I’d never really thought about it that way before. I never realized that even with an optimistic “happy ending” American twist, these fairy tales are not just stories of princesses in crowns and jewels, complete with daring rescues by charming princes and happy endings; they are stories about the indomitable spirit of strong-willed women and the turmoil, struggle and strife that precedes a happy ending. They are real life. They are my life.

My life IS a fairy tale.

Complete with Prince Charming. And a happy ending.

I just haven’t gotten to it yet.

PS If you happen to run into Prince Charming, please send him my way. :)

Goodbye, 2011

Well, as my health has continued to decline, I signed up to visit the Mayo Clinic. I’ve always kind of held them out there as a last resort – a last hope. So it’s demoralizing to feel the need to head that direction so early in my journey. But that’s where I was.

So, I went through the process of being accepted as a patient and had been waiting for months to get there. I was nervous and excited and hopeful and scared all at once. When I arrived though, I was really impressed with their system. It is truly amazing and runs so incredibly smoothly. I wish all hospitals and drs offices ran this way.

After going through a week full of testing and consultation with numerous doctors, there still seem to be more questions than answers. Nonetheless, I am looking forward to putting 2011 behind me and living a healthy and happy 2012.

GPS

A friend of mine recently recounted a conversation she’d had with a friend of hers. They’d been trying to find their way somewhere and had been using a GPS. And they started talking about how when they make a wrong turn, the GPS doesn’t say “Why’d you turn left instead of right, you idiot?” or “Now you’ll never get there.” or “why don’t you ever listen to instructions?” The GPS doesn’t judge. It doesn’t mock. It simply states, in a calm and placid, nonjudgmental voice “Recalculating.”

My friend then went on to compare this to God and how He works in our lives. We’ve come to this earth and have been fitted with a GPS of sorts that is set to our final destination: God. Throughout our lives, we miss turns, inadvertently make wrong turns, and sometimes even willfully disregard instructions. But no matter what, that GPS is still set to God’s location. He hasn’t moved. He won’t move. He will still provide direction. And that will never change. Even if we willfully do exactly the opposite of what we are told to do to return to Him, it does not eliminate the possibility of returning. In other words, just as in mortal life, even if we go left instead of right at every possible juncture, that GPS will continue to recalculate the steps needed to get to our final destination. Which has not changed. I just found this to be such a beautiful and comforting analogy, giving more hope about my own life than I’ve felt in a while.

Another Hug from Heaven

I’m so grateful that fall has arrived. This morning, when I woke up, I looked out the window to see what the weather was like. It was sunny (yes, I slept in) and looked beautiful. But the beauty was intensified by the fact that there was a huge, full rainbow clearly visible (despite the fact that it didn’t really look like rain). I rushed right out and took pictures. I think of them as pictures of promise.

Another hug from heaven.

Hold On Until Fall

My health has continued to decline throughout the summer. POTS is an illness that does not react well to heat and humidity, so this summer has been pretty tough on me. I went to see a specialist a few weeks ago and he gave me a list of things to do to get my condition under control:

• Eat more sodium
• Drink more fluids (not just water)
• Stay cool (literally)
• Keep exercising
• Survive until fall

Sounds like a plan. Fall’s almost here…

Earthquakes, Hurricanes and ERs

Living on the east coast, you normally don’t worry too much about earthquakes. That’s more of a California concern. But this week, imagine our surprise when, at the conclusion of one our meetings at work, the whole building began to shake. We were shocked and not so well trained in identifying the cause of the commotion. Nonetheless, when the fire alarms sounded before the shaking had even fully subsided, we joined the hundreds of others rushing from our office building and into the streets, per our evacuation plan.

As if the earthquake wasn’t enough, I decided to faint while waiting to re-enter the building. Fortunately, all the cell phone circuits were jammed and no one was able to get off a successful 911 call. In addition, my coworkers were fantastic at convincing people I was ok.

I’m sure all the Californians were laughing at us east-coasters…

Of course, in watching the news that evening, I was surprised to learn that another natural disaster was headed our way. This one looked to be more concerning and dangerous and had the ominous name of Hurricane Irene.

Again, Washingtonians pushed the panic button and began to prepare for the worst. Fortunately for me, I already had water and flashlights and batteries and such, so no excursions to the store with hour-long lines were needed.

All week, we looked forward with dreadful anticipation to what Hurricane Irene would bring us.

But I must not have been taking her seriously enough. Because I decided to add one more adventure to my plate on the eve of her arrival. I fainted in a metro station and stopped breathing.

Oops.

This, of course, necessitated a special ride to the nearest emergency room via my personal limo service (aka local ambulance service). And a seven hour stay in the hospital.

To be honest, I was just glad to make it out of this week alive….
And fortunately, in our area, Hurricane Irene didn’t live up to the hype.

The Kindness of Strangers

It’s so interesting to me how very cynical I become in daily life. You listen to the news and 98 percent of it is focused on all the terrible things that happen in the world: crime, abuse, corruption, murder. But I have recently been very touched by the amazing kindness of strangers – to me, to my family, and to each other. Small acts of kindness go a long way, but are seldom recognized.

A few weeks ago, I was on my way to work. It was the typical commute. Except for the fact that all the seats on the subway car I entered were full. Given my propensity for fainting these days, it’s never a good idea for me to stand too long. And on this particular day, I was already feeling quite ill. I had a quick internal debate on whether I should wait for the next train but, as you may know, in the subway system, he who hesitates is lost. So it was a short debate.

I walked to the center of the car, hoping that someone would get off at the next stop and I would get a seat. To my surprise, a gentleman, perhaps noting the concern on my face, offered me his seat. Normally I wouldn’t take it, but as I said, I was already feeling ill and was concerned that I would pass out at any moment. So I thanked him sincerely and took the proffered seat.

What a small, yet amazing gesture of kindness – from someone who doesn’t know me, doesn’t know my story, and probably has no idea the incredible impact he had on me that day!

Making a Difference

I learned something today about making a difference.

It was my day off and I had a million errands to run. Ok, maybe not a million... Nonetheless, I spent a good portion of the day in the car. And my car spent a good portion of the day on toll roads. Being a typical 21st century woman, I was lucky to have any cash on me at all. And coins? Forget it! So I found myself in several long "Full Service" toll lines. The last one was at the beginning of rush hour and was by far the longest line I've ever seen at a toll booth. Hundreds of cars all waiting to hand their cash to one solitary worker, sitting in a sweltering booth.

As I sat waiting, periodically inching my car forward, I was exceedingly grateful for the air conditioning inside the car. And the fact that, for the most part, people were being pretty civil to one another.

Finally I made it to the toll booth. Where I was greeted by a cheerful attendant, who thanked me for my patience, wished me a good day, and hurried me on my way.

As I drove away, I was smiling.

That one person, doing his job, however mundane, with such a cheerful attitude, had an impact on me. He made a difference. He reminded me that we can all make a difference in our own little sphere. It may not be some grand gesture, but even a small thing like a pleasant attitude and a smile can have ripple effects that travel far beyond our immediate sphere.

Tomorrow, I'm going to make a difference.

Bionic Woman

When I was little, I loved the show "The Bionic Woman." I kind of dreamed of having that kind of enhanced efficiency and strength. Although it's not the same thing, I kind of relate to the bionic woman since I have a little computer in me that helps maintain my quality of life and gives me greater strength and energy than I otherwise would have. I love my pacemaker! And I'm so grateful to live in a time with such technology that makes it possible for me to engage in activities I enjoy!

Although you won't see me lifting any cars or jumping any tall buildings, you may catch a glimpse of me getting some serious miles in on my quest to run 1200 miles this year.

My hiatus of the last two months has gotten me a bit behind schedule, but I'm still aiming high.

341 down, 859 to go.

I Did It!

Well, I did it. I went to the beach. And I even swam in the ocean. Never mind that unconsciousness was hovering on the edge of my consciousness ready to take me into dreamland, or rather, the world of nightmares. And never mind that I collapsed on the shore for a while as my racing heart tried to beat itself out of my chest. In the end, I swam. And loved it. And it was worth the aftermath.

Take that, POTS!

No Fear!!

No Fear

A few weeks ago, I was walking to the metro on my way home from work. I wasn't feeling very well and a bright green patch of grass seemed really inviting. I did not, however, succumb to the invitation and continued on my way. However, a short time later, I found myself lying on concrete, surrounded by security officers, paramedics and curious onlookers and wished that perhaps I had chosen a more comfortable resting place - like that inviting piece of lawn. After five years of staying conscious, I had randomly fainted again.

At my worst, before I was diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) with Neurally Mediated Hypotension (NMH), I fainted 3-5 times a week. As you can imagine, it was a frightening time. It's never fun to wake up in random places, surrounded by a bunch of complete strangers. Or in an ER. Or in an ambulance with someone jabbing you five times trying to get an IV in you. It makes you afraid to go outside, to do the things you love, even to be alone. All you want to do is stay safe and sound in your room where you can lie down if you feel ill. And you can even pass out, but without an audience.

So, now that it's happened again, I am afraid. I am afraid to go on my long-planned beach vacation over Memorial Day weekend. I am afraid to go in the water. I am afraid of being a burden to my friends. I am afraid of landing in an ER far from home.

How do you overcome fear?

For me, I just have to face it. The day after I took my unscheduled nap on the concrete, I returned to work. I intentionally walked right by the place where it had happened, forcing myself to recognize that everything was ok, that it was a random occurrence, and (hopefully) not prone to happening again anytime soon.

Now, before I go on my morning runs, I have a new routine: Gather all my medical information into a little plastic baggie I will carry in my hand, drink my water and gatorade to ensure hydration, and stand at the door and repeat to myself over and over "NO FEAR!"

As for the beach? "NO FEAR" is my mantra!

A Wannabe Blogger

Clearly, I am not a real blogger. If I were, I would have blogged many more events and ideas and random thoughts over the past few months. Instead, I am just a wannabe. I run down the road, thinking random thoughts, seeing beautiful things, and contemplating what to include in my next entry. And then I come home and fall into bed. Or rush off to work. And by the time a moment frees itself for expression, my mind has once again become a clean slate - all real thought having fallen through the holes of my sieve-like mind.

However, do not fear. I have come up with a stellar system for capturing those random thoughts that will prove oh, so interesting to all my many blog followers...Texting. Whenever I have a random thought that seems fit for my blog, I text it to myself. Of course, the challenge is translating those texts into actual entries. That will be the next step.

Washing Walls

A few weeks ago, I spent some time with my paternal grandmother. She is a truly amazing woman who has worked hard her whole life. In her eighties now, she bemoans the fact that she can no longer go roller skating or drive. She still volunteers to sleep on the floor whenever there aren't enough beds to go around (yeah, right!). And she constantly tries to help others and not be "burdensome." Somehow she manages to get birthday cards out on time to four children, nineteen grandchildren and twenty-five (ish) great grandchildren. She is incredible!

Being the hardworker that she is, she never really struck me as that happy-go-lucky when I was a child. But as an adult, I've been introduced to the fun and humorous sides of my grandmother that I sometimes overlooked when I was young.

So, as we were cleaning up her house, I started asking her questions about her parenting style. "Did she ever play with her children?" I wondered. "Of course," she responded, "we washed walls together..."

That explains a lot!