This year I am giving up self-criticism for Lent. I mean, it can’t be caffeine, wine is obviously out of the question, and my Jamberry addiction is really just in it’s infancy, so I have to find something…
I thought maybe I could use this season as a jump start to a new mental space where I give myself a bit of a break. In my last post I wrote about how I don’t care what other people think of me anymore, and that’s true. But I am still pretty harsh in what I think of myself.
I hold myself to ridiculous standards. Clearly not when it comes to keeping my house clean or washing my hair more than once a week. But I ruthlessly criticize myself for not being able to truly appreciate every moment with my kids while they are little and adorable, I mean I should be grateful that I am alive to be a part of their childhoods and frustrated at myself when I don’t feel that loving glow every second of the day. I project forward to when they are pain-in-the ass teenagers and I have turned into Beverly Goldberg and am clinging to them demanding “snuggies” and that I will regret that I didn’t cherish this time more. And if I slip and snap at one of the kids when I have asked them the same f-ing question 37 times and they still refuse to answer me, or if I yell “I don’t care, just figure it out” through the bathroom door while two three year olds are screaming that they need me, I beat myself up pretty badly about that later.
And it’s funny because my absolute favorite about being a Christian (yes, I’m out of the closet now, I love me some Jesus) is the concept of Grace. That you do nothing to earn it and there is no way to loose it. That is some pretty amazing stuff. Haha Amazing Grace, I totally wrote that not intending the pun but I’m gonna leave it here anyway.
And I am really good, like really good, at giving Grace. I don’t just give second or third, but 27th chances. I am able to look at someone who is being a total asshole and give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe his dog just died or he has some chronic pain that is not visible to the eye but eating away at his patience. Because I have been there, I have been someone who fell to pieces when my husband asked me to make a reservation because “it was all just too much!!!!” So I am very generous in my ability to forgive.
Except when it comes to me. I hold grudges against myself for things I did in the third grade. I’m not kidding. I obsess over the hurtful comments I made years ago that the person I hurt probably doesn’t even remember. These are things that I would easily forgive in another person, but refuse to do so for myself.
So that’s what I’m giving up this Lent. I am giving up (or going to try to give up) judging myself so harshly. I mean, I’m pretty great. I made it through the past four years when life kept dealing me blow after blow. And I survived. And I thrived. I still have hope, and optimism, and more faith than I ever did. And grace. So I am going to start using a little bit of that on myself.
**Warning if you are easily offended by the F bomb, please stop reading now. I can’t be responsible for any pearl-clutching from this point forward**
In the past few months as I have started to get my Sparkle back, I have realized that laying just beneath the surface of my much-scarred skin is a heretofore undiscovered superpower… The power of not giving a fuck.
That’s right, I said it. All the trauma, all the pain and suffering, the depression, the crippling anxiety, all of it has served a purpose. I have learned a lot about what really matters to me, what makes me happy, and what is just not worth giving a fuck about.
Like if my kids pick out their own outfits for school and refuse to let me brush their hair- not a battle worth fighting. Or if my house is picture perfect when people come over- their toddlers are just going to wreck the place anyway, might as well start there!
Or what other people think of me. I truly do not have any energy available to give a shit about what you think of the fact that I wear capes in public- like a superhero.
Or got my first tatoo at 36- like a badass.
Or wear and sell Jamberry nail wraps, and trade them on message boards, and am basically slowly becoming a Jamberry hoarder- like a total and complete nerd.
I used to spend a lot of time- and I mean a lot- worried about what other people thought of my appearance, my behavior, my talents, and just about everything else. But now, I know how it feels to let go of that and it is immensely freeing.
All that I have been through has changed me, I mean how could it not. I am turning into someone who is truly comfortable in my own skin, who is proud of who I am and what I have accomplished. And while I still appreciate when people compliment me, which they do ’cause I’m awesome, I am able to accept praise, hear criticism, and not obsess over what that person really thinks of me. Most of the time anyway.
I do feel like I want to explain one of my more out-there decisions of late. A few weeks ago, to celebrate my 36th birthday, I got a tattoo. I have been talking about it forever, and I think my husband thought I was bluffing all the way until I actually sat down in the chair to get it, but I finally went through with it and couldn’t be happier.
I have a little semi-colon on my foot with a heart at the top. When people ask why a semi-colon I say, “Because I don’t have a colon!”
The truth is a little more complicated that that, although that is a big reason I decided on the tattoo. I wanted a permanent mark on me, a reminder to myself that I have been through hell and survived it. That things have been bad for me- really bad, and I am still here. That I made that choice to keep on going and emerged from the darkness of these past few years as someone I really want to be.
You may have heard of the semi-colon project. If not, google it, but it is about depression awareness, and the semi-colon tattoo represents the idea that depression does not have to be the end of your life (a period at the end of a sentence) but that it can just be a pause (a semi-colon) and that you can take some time at that pause and then keep going with the rest of your life.
I love the beauty of this imagery, so I adopted it. Because I was low, I was depressed and anxious, and in horrible pain, and I lost myself. For a long time, I was just getting by day to day. So that was my pause. And now I am resuming life after that pause and it feels wonderful!
And in starting up my sentence again, I realized that the worry about other’s opinions of me is just not worth it. I’m still discovering exactly who I am after my pause- but I love who I am becoming. I hope you love her too, but if you don’t- I just don’t give a fuck!
Happy New Years, and may 2016 be the year of discovering your super-powers!!
It could have been a bad day. For most people it would probably qualify in the seriously crappy day category…I even planned it that way.
See, I knew that I needed to have a wart frozen off/dug out at the dermatologist, and a filling, and an iron infusion before the end of the year. The iron infusions involve several hours, blood work, an iv, and inevitable abdominal cramping for the rest of the day- I know because I get them every month.
So I just decided eff it, I’m gonna have my supernanny take the kids and plan for a crap-tastic day of doctors and dentists and generally unpleasant and painful procedures.
I figured that if I planned for the day to be terrible then I wouldn’t be disappointed when it turned out that way.
And yes- the wart thing hurt, and the doctor had to apologize for having to dig so deep in my skin. But she was really nice about it!
And at the dentist he decided the cavity was shallow enough that he wouldn’t numb me. We discovered he was wrong when he touched a nerve with the drill and my whole body jumped. But he numbed me up after that and I got through it fine.
And that’s all just life. Those are normal people problems.
Because I planned for it, I wasn’t annoyed by all the stuff I knew was going to suck about the day. So I had space to not loose my mind when my three and a half year old decided it would be a great day to cut her own bangs and spread her hair out all over the floor.
And I was actually in a fantastic mood all day. When the nurse told me I didn’t have to do blood work this time, I almost high-fived her. It’s a good thing I stopped myself because as anyone who knows me well can attest, I am an extremely awkward high-fiver.
And then I sat down to get my iron and struck up a conversation with the woman getting chemo next to me. She asked how often I am in there and I told her “once a month, probably forever.” She said that she was just getting maintenance too- because she was past the point of a cure. I told her how sorry I was and she said, “You just decide to keep on going.”
Yep. That’s it exactly. So many people have asked me how I got through the past few years with everything I have been through. And I usually make some sort of joke abut Xanax. But she summed it up perfectly, you just decide to keep on going. And then you do. You do whatever you can that day, and then the next day, and then the next. She made me realize how lucky I truly am that my story is on an upswing. We laughed and cried together and I left there feeling grateful. For Life.
For this messy, painful, beautiful, awesome, whirlwind that is my life.
And if yesterday was what “bad” looks like to me now, then bring it on. Because I’ve learned something about myself; that no matter what happens, every day I will make that choice to keep on going.
It has been a long time since I wrote on this blog, which some of you may have noticed (although probably not, I don’t kid myself that you are breathlessly awaiting the next installment of my life story!)
There are a couple of reasons I haven’t written. First of all, I majorly overestimated my time management skills and overcommitted. Like a lot. As in I decided it was totally doable to be a stay-at-home mom to twin 3 year olds, run a growing non-profit, write a blog, be on several boards and committees for other organizations, and manage my insane list of doctors appointments and health conditions.
I think that part of the issue was that I felt like my life was on pause for so long, that once I started to feel a little better I cannon-balled into a million activities rather than inching in and doing just a little to see how it went. And maybe that wasn’t the best idea.
And if I am being truthful, which is what I strive to be in this blog, in a lot of ways it was easier to fill my time with tasks I had to do, rather than to turn the focus inward and deal with my own crap- sometimes literally.
My recovery has not been what I hoped for. It is taking a really long time for me to get to whatever my “new normal” will be. I am coming to terms with the fact that I’m missing a bunch of organs, and that means life will never look the same as it does for other people. I am living with the fact that I had cancer and there is no guarantee it won’t come back. I am learning how to keep from yelling at doctors who tell me frustrating and semi-absurd things like I either have some amount of internal bleeding (which they can’t do anything to fix,) or a bone marrow problem (for which the treatment is worse than the problem so they won’t even test me for it,) that is causing me to be chronically anemic and get IV iron every month- probably forever.
And worst of all, I have had this “mystery pain” going on that I can’t trace to anything I eat or do. For a long time, I was always living with the uncertainty that at any moment I could be feeling perfectly fine and then suddenly be wracked with extreme abdominal pain that could last for hours and make it impossible to continue my day. Sometimes I could fight through it, and other times I had to lie on the floor of the bathroom crying and call my mom to come get my kids because I was physically unable to put them into the car and get them home.
I have also been dealing with a lot emotionally. I have discovered that my battle with depression and anxiety is directly tied to the amount of medical issues that I am having. So this summer, when I went through three weeks of extremely invasive and, in one instance, legitimately torturous testing to determine the cause of my mystery pain, I became, well, a big hot mess. It was hard for me to find joy even in the great moments I had with my family. I was just boxing up those yucky, unclear, unpleasant thoughts and feelings and sticking them in a closet to deal with later. I have gotten pretty good at that particular defense mechanism over the years, but at some point that closet can’t fit one more thing and when you open the door it all comes pouring out.
I spent a lot of time the past few months in therapy discussing the fact that part of my brain is always alert for the next thing that is going to go horribly wrong with my body. It’s exhausting. My mom once said to me that it seemed like I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yes. Exactly. Why wouldn’t I expect that, because in the last four years of my life, it always has. Every time I would just barely recover from a major blow, there would be something else to come along and knock me back down.
Boom. Miscarriage. Feeling hopeful because of a healthy twin pregnancy then Boom. Emergency hysterectomy when the twins were 6 weeks old. Start to come to terms with the fact that I almost died and had my uterus yanked out without my permission and then Boom. Find out that all the medicines I have been taking have caused me Osteoporosis, and then come very close to fracturing my spine. Boom. My ulcerative colitis flares so bad I have to have my colon removed. Boom. I have Thyroid Cancer. Boom. Three major surgeries in four months. Begin to slightly feel better and then Boom. Anemia so severe I could barely move and we were considering another blood transfusion.
It just kept coming, I mean how many effing shoes are there?! So when the doctors found a giant gallstone during all of those tests I almost felt relief. I thought, well here it is, the Boom that I can almost count on. One more surgery.
But then they decided that the gallstone was not the cause of my pain and surgery to remove it would be too dangerous with all of my scar tissue. That wasn’t so much of a Boom as a sigh…
So I go to my GI again, and try upping the dose of the medicine he gave me last time that is maybe kind of helping. Truthfully I am not really expecting it to work.
And then a miracle happens…my pain is gone. I realized one day recently that it has been almost three weeks since a major pain attack- I was having them 2-3 times a week. And then I start to feel like I have a little more space, more patience, more light. That’s when it hits me, not with a Boom but with a HAZAA! My background pain is gone too!
See, I didn’t really even count my everyday gut pain amongst my list of things to worry about because it had moved to the back of my brain. The chronic cramping and steady pain was just a hum running through my life that I could manage, it was the acute bouts of pain that I couldn’t live with.
But once it was gone, I realized how freeing it is to be without pain. How much space that pain took up in my head and my heart. How much anxiety and depression and hopelessness that pain caused.
The reason I haven’t written in so long is because I couldn’t. I didn’t want to share my feelings with the world because they weren’t good enough. Because I wasn’t good enough. Because my writing rang false every time I tried. Depression will do that. And some of you reading this who have suffered with depression might understand, all the rational thought in the world couldn’t overcome the ugly, nagging voice that was whispering quietly that I was destined to be sick forever, that I should just get over myself because so many people have it worse, that I had nothing of value to say.
But when my pain eased, and I got on the right combination of medicines to manage my pain, depression, and anxiety, that gloom started to lift. Yet again Xanax for the win!!
I’ll never forget the first time I realized that my hope was back. I was on the floor rolling around with my twins playing some sort of ridiculous game and the three of us were all laughing hysterically. And I looked at the two of them and my husband who was sitting across the room chuckling at our antics, and I felt like my heart would explode. I was hit with an overflow of gratitude for my life, for my ability to be present with my family in body and in spirit. It was a fleeting but absolutely perfect moment.
And with that moment, I started to find myself again…I started to get some of my sparkle back.
Yesterday was an amazing day. A Hallelujah, sing in the car, have a super-cool dance party with the hubs and kids sort of a day. Yesterday I got some incredible news- my Osteoporosis has not only stopped getting worse, it may actually be reversing itself!!!! I also had a great meeting with the wonderful folks at Cancer Support Community of North Texas. The work they do for people affected by and living with cancer is unbelievable. If you or anyone you know are dealing with cancer, please check them out as a resource. They have support groups, informational meetings, kid’s nights, social workers, counselors- you name it, all FREE to members (but that actually cost a lot of money, so if you have some extra cash laying around you might want to throw it their way!)
At this meeting I got invaluable ideas and support for Mommies In Need, and I also came away from it with my favorite new term: “Mitzvah Therapy”
When I explained the whole backstory of Mommies In Need coming from my struggles and said that it has really been a huge source of comfort and joy to me in my recovery, one of the women in the meeting said that was an example of Mitzvah Therapy. In its casual usage a “Mitzvah” is an act of kindness that you do for a person without expecting anything in return.
When I got home I googled the term and found this video:
The story told here made me cry in it’s simplicity and beauty. In it, Bill O’Hanlon describes what the late Dr. Sol Gordon coined “Mitzvah Therapy” and tells a lovely story about how it changed one woman’s life. Now, I am all for psychotherapy- I’m not canceling those appointments anytime soon! But as he says in the video, psychotherapy is all about you and Mitzvah Therapy is all about giving.
And I have a confession to make here, I have kind of become a giving junkie. Seriously, I am always looking around for my next fix. I actually keep some of it a secret (I guess until now) from my family because it seems a little crazy- well, crazier than usual. If I have extra cash I pay for the parking of the person behind me whenever I leave the hospital lot- someone did that for me once and it made me smile on a not-so-good diagnosis day! I have blessing bags in my car with protein bars, tissues, soap, etc. to give to any homeless people I see. We did a diaper drive for the twins birthday and I got a huge high when the woman picking up the donations was so excited about everything she was loading in the car to distribute to underserved families. I even carry around $5 gift cards to Starbucks that I sometimes give to random moms when I see them carting 3 kids through Target or dealing with a toddler having a stage 5 meltdown. I hand it over with just a few words, “One mom to another, you probably need to treat yourself” and walk away.
I tell you this, but please don’t go on about how awesome I am or anything like that. I mean, I’m pretty cool, don’t get me wrong, but I am not writing this for compliments! See for me, those acts are actually pretty selfish, because I get such a huge boost of happiness and even self-confidence from doing those things. When I walk away from that mom who has a little light of hope in her eyes that someone gets what she is going through, I feel pretty darn good about myself. And that feeling, really helps me get through the day sometimes. I have been forced to deal with a lot in the past few years- see A Brief Timeline of Crazy. And there are days when I can get pretty depressed or anxious or just plain mad that all of those crazy and terrible things happened to me.
And I need my psychotherapy to work on the root of that depression and anxiety and anger, it’s not something that just goes away when you ignore it- believe me, I tried that and wound up with panic attacks (which I really don’t recommend!) But for me, when I get in a dark place, being alone and thinking about myself is a surefire way to go even darker. And the quickest fix? A little Mitzvah Therapy!
So maybe I have taken this to an extreme by starting my own non-profit, but seriously, try to insert a little random kindness into the days you are feeling like crap. It’s hard to be grumpy when you are giving joy to someone else. Even just holding the door open for someone with a genuine smile on your face, rather than grudgingly doing it with no eye contact can brighten a person’s day just a bit.
Ugh, sorry if this whole post is a little Pollyanna, but I am coasting on a major high right now. Mommies In Need has officially accepted TWO new families to help! I am overwhelmed by the amount of support that this cause has gotten in such a short amount of time. Don’t get me wrong, my heart hurts for the women we are helping. I have been in situations like theirs and I know the kind of rough road they are going down. But I am filled with joy knowing that Mommies In Need is taking a huge burden off of them by making sure their children are well taken care of.
If you feel like doing a little Mitzvah Therapy of your own today, please consider donating to our campaign to support these Mommies in their journeys through cancer.
I’m in the middle of a 24 hour urine test today for my Osteoporosis. It will help give a progress report to my Mineral Metabolism specialist about how much calcium I am losing and what course of treatment we should pursue. I’m hoping for a “just keep doing what we’re doing” response since all of the Osteoporosis drugs have some pretty serious side effects, especially for someone as young as me. (Thank you Prednisone for giving me Grandma bones at 35!)
And this test is super annoying, because I have to collect all my urine for 24 hours and store it in a jar in my fridge. Then I have to bring it into the clinic tomorrow after fasting for 12 hours (that means no coffee in the morning- I may be a danger on the roads) and get huge amounts of bloodwork. So if you are someone like me who pees every 5 seconds, you basically can’t leave the house unless you want to carry a little mini pee jar around in your purse. Plus my in-laws are in town so I had to be all “please don’t touch the orange jug in the fridge, it’s full of pee.”
Flopsy has pink eye and ANOTHER ear infection. My Uncle, who usually takes our dog to play with his during the days, has been recovering from surgery- so my dog’s constant barking is driving me up the proverbial wall. My to-do list seems to be multiplying on it’s own and no matter how many things I cross off, it just keeps getting longer. And we are transitioning the twins to big girl beds, which means they are crappy sleepers again and it takes roughly 800 hours to get them to go to sleep each night.
I was pouring my pee into a jar for the fifth time today and feeling extremely annoyed when I stopped and laughed and realized for a moment just how lucky I am. I am so happy to be at a place in my recovery when my treatments, symptoms, and diagnostic tests are merely annoying to me. This time last year I barely noticed when I had to do the urine test because I was so sick and in so much pain that I wasn’t leaving the house anyway. And I wasn’t frustrated with my dog or my kids or my to-do list because I was completely incapable of doing anything. I was in survival mode: trying to manage my pain, discomfort, and depression just to get through the day.
Even though I still have rough days where I am clutching my heating pad with wretched cramps for 6 hours because I accidentally ate a vegetable, if I step back and look at it I am truly grateful. Because now I am in a place when every day is not full of pain anymore. Life is not always easy, but it is livable. And I have hope that it will continue getting better. I get extremely frustrated with setbacks in my health, and even though I understand rationally that I have to be patient with my body because healing (especially from as much trauma as I have been through) is not a linear process, I don’t wanna. I am so over being sick and just want to be “normal” again. I am working on being kind to myself and coming to terms with the fact that like it or not I am missing 3 major organs now and my body will never function the way it did before I got sick. Fundamentally I don’t trust my body anymore because so much has gone wrong with it in such a short time.
But I am working on that too. I am just starting to have a glimmer of confidence that eventually I will figure out this body and become comfortable with my new normal. It might not be on my timeline but I think it will eventually happen, and that’s a far cry from the days when I could not see any sign that I would ever feel good again.
I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and my friend Annie has just finished her chemo and is in the middle of that intense healing process. We are also opening up for applications for a new family to help with Mommies In Need. So I am hearing from people who are in that really dark and difficult place where I was hanging out a year ago. And my heart hurts for them. Because being really sick sucks. And it sucks for a long time. But if I can do anything for the people that are in that place of intense suffering right now, maybe it is to be a little shred of hope that eventually it will get better.
Maybe one day they will find themselves being annoyed by little daily tasks and laugh with joy because they realize that they are actually able to do those tasks again. They will realize that annoyance is actually a blessing because it means they are past the point where being sick consumed their entire lives. That perhaps everything they went through lead them to a life they never thought they would have but are profoundly grateful for.
Now if you will excuse me I have to go pee into a jar.
I would like to start this post by saying that I am not a doctor, or a scientist, or an astronaut. Although I do know many, many doctors (seriously, I have seen close to 50 different MDs in the last 4 years) a few scientists and one guy who did a summer internship at the Air and Space Museum- so by internet article standards that pretty much makes me an expert. I mostly get my news from Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and since his show returned a few days ago (hooray!) with a giant expose on doctors taking gifts from pharmaceutical companies I have seen even more articles pop up in my newsfeed about the dangers of “Big Pharma.”
I get that the pharmaceutical industry is a big money making machine and needs a lot more oversight in place. What worries me, however, is how this discussion feeds into the paranoia that leads people not to vaccinate their children because they believe doctors are only giving vaccines to get huge kickbacks. The doctors John Oliver is talking about are making bank pushing things like Viagra and Anti-Depressants. The Polio vaccine is not a big moneymaker, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have any off-label uses!
I will be the first to say that I truly understand that drugs can have horrible side effects- this is coming from a 35-year-old who has full blown Osteoporosis from all the Prednisone I took in the past few years. But I will also say that Prednisone was the only thing that actually controlled my Ulcerative Colitis. My doctors kept trying to get me off it, but without it, my flares were debilitating- I got Osteoporosis, but I didn’t bleed to death, so I count that as a win.
I would like to highlight here that I also tried everything else possible to control my disease. If you aren’t familiar with Ulcerative Colitis, it is an auto-immune disease where your body attacks your colon and causes these horrible ulcers that are intensely painful and come with digestive problems that I am sure you don’t want to hear about. It was like living with food poisoning for several years. Oh yeah, and I bled- a lot. So as much as I knew that steroids were not a long term solution, I kept begging for them because it was only when on a high dose that I got any sort of relief. I went through 6 or 7 other prescription drugs, multiple specialists, tried all sorts of diets, acupuncture, some wack-a-do thing called Total Body Modification (which did absolutely nothing and was stupidly expensive btw,) and spent months in treatment with a woman who is a highly regarded naturopath.
I did my research and found someone with excellent credentials, wonderful reviews and great recommendations. This woman was lovely and kind and I am sure that her methods work for some people, but it was the holistic supplements that she gave me that sent me into the worst flare of my life, and down the path where I eventually had to have my colon removed.
This is where I get really worried about people who choose to use Complimentary Alternative Medicine instead of the opinions of actual doctors. Because medical specialists exist for a reason. I have a GI Specialist, Colon and Rectal Surgeon, Endocrinologist, and a guy who just focuses on Osteoporosis in young patients because no one person can possibly be a true expert in all of these fields- there is just too much information.
When I went to the naturopath and asked if she had ever treated anyone with Ulcerative Colitis, she said “I treat the whole person, not just the disease,” and then gave me some water that had been blessed by a Shaman to drink. But I bought into it because I wanted so desperately for something to work. Her months of treatment never helped me (she convinced me that all my problems were because of diet, but after 4 months on her strict and gluten free meal plan, my symptoms were no better) and when I got a cold, she gave me some herbs that probably work fine for people without a diseased colon. But because of my medical conditions, something about them triggered a life-threatening flare for me.
And then when I went on prednisone again, it no longer worked. So we pulled out the big guns and I went on Remicade. This is an iv immuno-suppresent with a host of nasty side effects but at this point I was willing to do anything to get some quality of life back. It looked like I was getting a little better for a few months and then it just stopped working. That was the point at which my GI had a long sit down with me to discuss options.
At that meeting he told me that if I wanted to continue to try various perscription drugs there were many left that we could attempt to use. But he flat out told me that in his experience patients that have proven resistant to multiple treatment options often don’t find a drug that works for them, and he referred me to a surgeon to discuss removing my colon. At first I was horrified by the thought, but after a lot of research and discussion with my family and doctors, I realized that this was the best option for my long- term health. I am happy to report that a little more than a year after the first surgery, the only thing I take for my digestive system is Imodium and an RX probiotic. I am pretty much drug free except for my Synthroid (because of the thyroid cancer, but that’s a whole different story!) and my Xanax- which you would have to pry from my cold dead hands!
I tell this lengthy story for a few reasons. First of all, while I don’t doubt that there are unscrupulous MDs that over-proscribe because of the perks they get from drug companies, I also KNOW that there are many doctors who do what they do because they truly want to help people. I’m pretty sure that my GI would have made a lot more money by keeping me on a string of different drugs- at one point I was coming to his office twice a week (and now I only need to see him once a year!) Also, Remicade is extremely expensive (around $7,000 a treatment) so he also could have pushed me to keep trying that for another six months. But instead, he referred me to a surgeon who CURED me! Granted, it was a horribly invasive cure that required 2 surgeries, weeks in the hospital, and close to a year of recovery, but long-term the drug companies are making a lot less money off of me!
Secondly, all of this concern about “Big Pharma” is just fueling the vaccine debate- WHICH SHOULD NOT BE A DEBATE.
As someone who has spent the better part of the last four years either with newborn infants or in a severely immunocompromised state, I beg you to vaccinate yourself and your children.
Measles and Whooping Cough are coming back because we can no longer rely on herd immunity to protect those that cannot be vaccinated because of age or actual medical reasons. Yes, some people have vaccine reactions- some people are also deathly allergic to peanuts. Are you not introducing your child to any potential food allergens because there is a small chance they might have a reaction? If so, fine, that doesn’t hurt anybody but your child who will just be eating boiled chicken and white rice for their entire life.
But choosing not to vaccinate does hurt people. Little babies are getting sick and you can prevent that.
I am truly shocked by some of the things that friends and friends of friends believe about vaccines. For example- I am 99.999% sure that vaccines are not, in fact, made from aborted fetuses. If that is why you don’t vaccinate your children, I am 100% sure that I just unfriended you on Facebook.
And then there are the people I know who are incredibly well read and educated, smart and articulate, who still refuse to give their children vaccinations. And that’s where I circle back to homeopathy.
Most people who don’t vaccinate cite individual examples of vaccine-injuries as one of their reasons. Well, if anecdotal evidence is enough to convince you, then your shouldn’t use homeopathy either because I just told you a story about how I was homeopathically-injured. Therefore, homeopathy must be terrible for everyone and evil and it is irresponsible to give to your children.
Oh wait, but there is a contingent of people who believe they can get full immunization just by using homeopathic products. So they are giving their babies all sorts of herbs and medicines that are not at all controlled or tested by the FDA. Is the FDA flawed? You bet. But it is far better than having no controls in place.
Here’s a fun tidbit for you: Hyland’s, a very popular brand of homeopathic medicine, uses Belladonna in it’s baby teething tablets. Does that sound familiar? It is a highly toxic plant, also known as Deadly Nightshade, that people used to poison each other with in ancient Roman times (I heard about it on a tour of the Getty Villa, but I digress.) Apparently it is such a small amount that it shouldn’t have any adverse effects on children. But there is no one but the company making it that oversees the process and makes sure that the batch you give your babies didn’t get a little extra POISON in it by mistake.
Look, despite my history, I am not an alternative medicine hater. I think that it actually has great benefits for some people if used carefully and with the knowledge and guidance of a person who has actual medical training. But it is called Complimentary alternative medicine because it should serve as a compliment to advice from your MD, not in place of it.
Find doctors that you trust and then listen to them. 10-15 years of medical training is not exactly a “get rich quick” scheme. Most people who go through that do it because they actually want to help, not so that they can secretly inject your littles with mercury and aborted fetus tissue while bathing in $100 bills from the makers of the whooping cough vaccine.
Please, don’t let your internet “research” guide you to leave your kids open to diseases that could kill them or that they could spread to others. Because anyone can write an article on vaccines… you just read mine and I fully admitted in the beginning that I get my news from a comedy program!
Seriously, stop asking Facebook. No, I do not want to share a montage of my life the past year with the caption “It’s been a great year!” Because 2014 sucked!
It has been nothing resembling a great year, in fact I can genuinely say it has probably been the worst year of my life. Now before I go on, I want to make it very clear that I have had bright shining moments this year. I have found love and support everywhere I turned, I have reconnected with old friends and made new ones. I have had some wonderful times with my family and been hugged a million times and laughed a lot. For example, today my husband taught Curly to do a dance routine that included “The Sprinkler” and ends with Jazz Hands. Well, to be fair, she is 2 1/2, that is pretty much the whole routine, but still… awesomeness!
But honestly, the best thing I can say about 2014 is that I survived it. I survived 3 major surgeries, the removal of my colon, 3 months with an ostomy bag, a skin cancer biopsy, a thyroid cancer diagnosis, the removal of my thyroid gland, panic attacks, depression, anemia, and being told by multiple doctors that my hemorrhoids will probably never go away. I survived 16 days in the hospital and countless more in recovery. I survived mountains of pain. Epic, horrible, screaming pain. Pain that was so bad that when I finally got the drugs (I heart you Dilaudid) that helped, I may or may not have tried to kiss the male nurse who gave them to me, with my amazing husband standing right next to me. Umm awkward!
I struggled with seeing my husband take on more than anyone should ever have to by caring for me and our kids. He stepped up in a major way but I hated having to watch him do it and not being able to help. I survived not seeing my little loves even by Facetime because all the tubes I was connected to scared them. And after months of being at home with them but being too tired, or sick, or in pain to play with them, I survived learning that I can’t always be Supermom.
That was a hard one for me. I have never been good at the home-maker part of being a stay at home mom. So having other people come around and help clean, cook, and do the dishes and laundry was perfect for me. But I’ve always been good at the “Mom” part. I love getting on the floor and playing silly games with Flopsy and Curly. I love teaching them, and listening to them, and reading with them, and wrestling with them, and cuddling with them. And for a good part of this year I couldn’t do those things, and when I did, it was not with my usual enthusiasm. I survived letting someone else take care of them when I did not feel up to it. And guess what? They survived too!
And I came out of this year a changed person. I really don’t think I could go through all of that and not be a little different at the end. I am much more anxious about everything, and I don’t really trust my instincts when it comes to my health. Finding out I had cancer when I had absolutely no symptoms and between two other major surgeries for a completely different issue, kind of made me into a nutcase. So now I tend to expect the worst, am kind of always waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I’m working on that.
I do like some of the changes in myself though… I have found this blog, a place where I can be truly honest rather than just “sucking it up” or pretending that I am fine when inside I am a giant hot mess. It has been wonderfully liberating to have pretty much everyone I know (and a lot of strangers) filled in on my struggles so people are kind of caught up to my drama and I don’t have to spend every moment talking to them discussing my health issues, because I Refuse To Be Old!
I also really like that I have become a resource to people who are going through a difficult time. Over the past year I have had friends come to me to talk about surgery, miscarriage, anxiety, depression, cancer, and lots of other issues because of how open I have been about my difficulties. I don’t want anyone else to ever suffer through the things I have had to deal with, but if they have to, I am at least grateful that I can be there for them. I can be a listening ear that lets them cry or a voice to tell them “that just sucks,” and allow them to feel their negative feelings, because pretending those don’t exist doesn’t make them go away… believe me I tried.
And I love that I have become more compassionate, because I understand that things can get really, really bad. And that I want to make it easier on people going through a difficult time in any way I can. So I started a non-profit, Mommies In Need, that helps sick moms have temporary in-home childcare so they can focus on recovery rather than constantly worrying about who is taking care of their children. I may have done it with no plan in place and in a very fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants manner, but hey, we got 501(c)(3) status in just 2 months, so I must have done something right!
So I guess that 2014 hasn’t been all bad, just… complicated. There is no way that a Facebook algorithm is going to be able to sum up my year, so I did it here instead.
Friends, family, and virtual friends, I wish you a very Happy New Year and a wonderful 2015. To 2014 I say, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!”
** If you want to help other mommies out there who are sick and need help with childcare in 2015 and beyond, please consider donating to Mommies In Need here or share that link wherever you can. We accept Paypal and all major credit cards (or you can mail a check) and you can get a last minute 2014 tax deduction! If you ever wanted to do something for me when I was sick and didn’t know what to do, you can help now. I am really passionate about this cause, and starting Mommies In Need has been a huge source of healing for me. It helps me understand that maybe all the crap I went through in 2014 can lead me to something positive in 2015 and beyond!
So here it is, yet another post about the Elf on The Shelf for your Facebook feed. I have read a lot of these blogs and articles advocating how the Elf brings a smile to their kids faces or about how the Elf is super creepy. (Personally I go with super creepy but that is probably because my #1 nightmare as a child was about my dolls coming to life to move around the house when I slept.) What bothers me is not that people are voicing their sometimes very hilarious takes on the whole Elf thing, but that in the comments sections Moms are waging war on each other.
Over an eff-ing Elf. Seriously people, let’s take it down a notch. Move a little Elf around your house and tell the kids it spies on them and Pintrest it every day in excotic locales and/or hilariously ironic settings. Or don’t. I really don’t care. I certainly don’t think it reflects poorly on your parenting one way or another. It’s just a holiday tradition. I don’t get up in arms about what kind of Cranberry sauce you use on Thanksgiving (BTW the proper answer is none, it’s disgusting) or what kind of Halloween candy you give out (but seriously Dots lady, those thing are like gobs of Kool-Aid flavored cement) so why are we so defensive about our position vis a vis Elfgate?
It’s just another way to get all up in each other’s grills, because that is a lot easier than doing something productive. And I get it, I am a stay at home mom, so I often feel the need for righteous vindication. I stopped breast-feeding and supplemented with formula because of health reasons. My babies never slept in my room because every noise they made woke me up in a panic, I learned that with the monitor on the lowest setting I could hear if they really cried but not every whimper and that is what I used. And we did a modified cry-it-out thing because I am terrible at instituting a pre-planned course of action that involves hours of baby crying, but we desperately needed the twins to sleep. I sort of wore my kids but only because it meant I might have one hand free. I give them every single vaccination that my pediatrician recommends and if they are sick they get Tylenol or antibiotics. I am firmly anti-spanking but also at a total loss right now because time-outs seem to be nothing but a joke to my littles. I made my own organic baby food for about a day and then gave up and moved to those packet thingies. I have spent many nights away from the loves of my life both because I had to (like when I was in the hospital) and because I wanted to (because getting a break makes me a better mom.)
I have made a lot of decisions that other moms might not agree with, and it feels incredibly personal when someone attacks the way you raise your children. So personal that it sometimes makes you want to leave a nasty comment on that someone’s shared article because you just had an XL glass of wine and a really hard day and how dare they flaunt their obviously wrong choices in your Facebook feed! Because being a stay at home mom means that a huge part of my identity is tied up in the parenting and lifestyle choices I make for my kiddos. And I personally have a deep seated insecurity that I am probably screwing my children up in a million small ways that they will one day work out in very expensive therapy.
I am just trying to figure this parenting thing out as I go, and every new study, or article, or child development book floods me with anxiety that maybe I have been doing this all wrong and these precious creatures that I have been entrusted to care for are going to be the worse for it. And then I try and take a deep breath (and maybe a Xanax) and realize that I know deep in my heart that my way may not be the “best” but it is the best I can do for my family given our circumstances.
So this holiday season, I would like to challenge us all to just be a little kinder to each other in social media where the easy thing is to only speak up when you are angry. Maybe do a little something I like to call Anti-Trolling. Instead of finding those threads that infuriate you and sparking up a rousing debate that is going to change no-one’s mind and will probably leave everyone feeling like crap. Let’s take that energy and instead use it to give some loving words of encouragement to something a person took the time and energy to write, or sing, or make into a video. It’s kind of a new hobby of mine. In fact a few of my consistent blog readers/bloggy friends are complete strangers who I Anti-Trolled because I read something of theirs that sparked a desire in me to compliment them or just send a little kindness their way. Give it a try, I promise there is a lot less remorse to drunk commenting to someone, “You are the greatest, I loooove your writing, I think you are super awesome and I want to be best friends and watch Mean Girls together,” than to actually being mean!
In a few days I turn 35! I realize that in the grand scheme of things, that is not old, but I have to say that in the past year I feel like I have aged 20! Seriously, old people love me because I can chat with them for hours about hospitals and doctors and drug interactions. My 85 year old grandmother and I are dealing with about the same level of osteoporosis and my grandfather and I both go to the same hematologist for our iron infusions! The final straw for me, however, is that both my doctor and my husband have suggested that I start drinking Boost or Ensure to help me get nutrients I need and to put on weight.
I understand rationally that this is a very practical suggestion and something that would probably be good for me, but still! It’s like how I refused to go full mini-van when I had the twins… I got a compact SUV so that I could hang on to some shred of (probably imagined) coolness. And so, I am refusing to go on a complete old people diet on principle. I will eat bland and mushy foods and stay away from nuts and all vegetables, but I am drawing the line. No Boost for me, I am still young, and hip, and funky fresh, or whatever the kids are saying these days.
Ok, yes, I have sort of thrown in the towel when it comes to getting ready. 90% of the time if I am not in yoga pants I am wearing maternity jeans, but comfort and ability to easily crawl on the ground with the toddlers is what matters right now. And I only wear makeup about twice a month. Seriously, a few weeks ago, Sebastian and I went to a formal event for Best Buddies and when we were leaving Curly said, “What’s wrong with your eyes?” I had on eyeshadow, she had just never seen it before!
And I go to bed before 10 almost every night and nap as often as possible during the day. I blame this one on the fact that I am still healing and anemic, which is true, but I also really just love to sleep.
My body may not be acting it’s age right now, but I REFUSE TO BE OLD YET!
So in order to feel better about my impending age shift to the over 35 bracket, I have decided to ask for your help. I have been talking a lot lately about Mommies In Need, if you aren’t up to speed, then you can read about it here and here.
Basically I have jumped into a major project of awesomeness by starting a non-profit corporation from the ground up in a very short period of time- let’s see my grandparents do that! (But if you are reading this Gaga and Gingi, please don’t be offended, I can only hope that I am as cool as you guys when I’m your age!)
For my birthday I am asking for everyone to help support Mommies In Need whatever way you can. Obviously, money would be amazing (we really need it if we are going to keep going) and you can either send a check to Mommies In Need at PO Box 601562 Dallas, Tx 75360 or donate on our website here, you can use a credit card or PayPal so no excuses!
If you can’t support it financially, I totally understand, but please take a second to share a link to the website at www.mommiesinneed.org on your facebook or twitter or email it to your friends in the hope that someone you know might want to help. And like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/mommiesinneed and share the status updates we post there (while you are at it, you can always like this blog’s page too!) Getting the word out is a huge part of building a charity, and I can’t do that by myself.
And finally if you have some other way that you can help, great! I am open to ideas and suggestions, and would love to get more people involved with Mommies In Need. Do you know a business who would like to help us financially or with in-kind donations? Wonderful! Do you want to have a garage sale and donate the money to us? I would heart you forever. Are you a web design wiz and want to help us spruce up the site? I seriously need some help on that front since I am deficient in both iron and technology skills. Are you or do you know someone who needs help caring for their kids in the middle of a major health crisis? If so, I am so sorry because I hate that anyone else has to go through this, but let me know, we aren’t quite ready to expand yet, but if the right situation came along I would be thrilled for MIN to step in and help. You can email me about anything related to Mommies In Need at email@example.com.
So, you have your request. I don’t need cards (although if you already send them, thank you!) and I don’t need stuff (although if a certain someone already bought me a spa massage I will not turn it down) but what I do need is support for Mommies In Need. This organization has given me an incredible sense of purpose and allowed me to find some meaning in all of the craziness I have been going through these past few years. So feel free to wish me a Happy Birthday on Facebook on December 4, but if you do that, please also consider giving a few moments of your time or a few dollars to a truly worthwhile cause. And know that with every donation or share of the link that I see I do a little happy dance. Please help me dance my way all through my birthday week, and know that the one time I don’t feel old is when I’m shaking my groove thang!
**I am clearly still young and hip as evidenced by my timely and relevant turn of a phrase!**
Oh and if you need any more incentive, If I raise $500 or more for Mommies In Need before December 7 (in the week of my birthday) I will post a truly ridiculous video of myself dancing with the dog taken by my husband when I had no idea the camera is on. It is fairly humiliating and probably quite hilarious to others, but I am willing to sacrifice my dignity for a good cause!