​On June 24th and 25th, 2019 a #DCGreen2019 rally will be held to bring awareness and knowledge about #Gastroparesis and #FunctionalGImotilityDisorders to Washington, DC. This will be held in conjunction with IFFGD (International Foundation for Functional Gastrointestinal Disorders).

For those that are unable to physically participate in person, a virtual march will be held as well. Everyone will be able to participate, whether in person or from the comfort of your home. 

Thank you to all involved in the planning phases! If you'd like to join in the planning please feel free to join us at https://www.facebook.com/groups/GPMarch/?fref=mentions&__tn__=KH-R! More specific details will be available at a future date. 

The tentative schedule in my friend Melissa Adams VanHouten's words:
"Monday will consist of an IFFGD-sponsored speaking event focused on Gastroparesis-related presentations in the morning (at a central hotel conference site) and our Gastroparesis rally (at the Capitol, within walking distance of the conference site) in the afternoon.

Tuesday will be the day we meet with legislators. We will meet briefly with the IFFGD in the morning to cover tips on engaging and conducting a successful office visit and then break up into small groups and head back to the Capitol for meetings with our individual representatives. At the end of our sessions, we will meet back at the conference site for assessment and some closing remarks.
Please keep in mind the itinerary is tentative, but the dates are now concrete. You are welcome to attend any or all of these events. Additional details to follow!

Let's go create some change!"
​

I know that I have not written quite as often over the past few months, or to be honest, last year as a whole. It's not that I didn't want to, in fact I really felt the need to share and process the mental anguish that I have been dealing with as a result of my physical illness, medicine side effects, trust issues, and complete exhaustion. I just have not been able to find the right words to accurately express my thoughts and experiences.

During 2018, I tried to persevere through my low moods, discouraging seemingly unbearable days, fears, and sadness for the sake of my children and family. I tried hard to focus my attention on the "more tolerable" days and the creation of positive memories on those days, to help me survive the unfavorable and undesirable days. I attempted to be present with my kids and family as much as I could, accept and respect my body's limitations, and pursue the highest quality of life that I could, regardless of the side effects I would face later. (And yes, they have been and continue to be brutal and last for days.) But what is the point of being alive if I don't allow myself the opportunity to live and experience moments with my family?

During 2018, I lost touch with an important part of me. I spent months feeling numb and lost, but during the foggy moments I still tried to remain true to my goals and intentions. Yes, it was incredibly hard and at times I wanted to quit, wanted to give up, wanted to disappear - but the love from God and my family, as well as some a few close confidants, didn't allow me to drown. They remained by my side and gave me the encouragement to hang on just one more day, to strive for the beautiful moments in life, and to relive the meaningful and special memories in my mind when days seemed too dark or painful to continue. 

The final month of 2018 ended up being a realistic summary for my entire year. Health issues. Mental worries. Emotional lows. Physical and emotional exhaustion. The feeling of living in a daze. Injuries, from falls, that I was determined to handle on my own. Ignoring medical needs momentarily as I tried to "figure it out" or "allow it to fix itself" on my own. Challenging and taking risks outside my comfort zone, in search of treasured memories with loved ones. And days of consequences that made me rethink and appreciate the meaning behind each of my chosen actions. 

I ended 2018 with my kids, husband, and dad at a football game. My youngest kids are high school students, avid sports fans, and have attended numerous ball games with their father and grandfather. However, I decided to attend this game with them. It was the very first time that I have ever been with them to a football game. Was it easy? Definitely not! I was beyond exhausted. I was nauseated. My body ached all over. My heating pad was necessary at the hotel. I humbled myself and agreed to riding in a wheelchair from the parking lot to our seats. With the exception of the game we remained and rested at the hotel. (Which admittedly was more than worthwhile, because it helped me reserve that much needed energy to sit at the game and bring in 2019 with them by my side!) Due to my feeding tube splitting and leaking, I had to go a few days without running my tube feeds - which added additional strain to my body. My IV fluids were infused in the hotel room and during the car ride. My body definitely hated me, my mind questioned and partially criticized me, while my mind, spirit, and heart were full of love and pride! My life is not ideal, that is for sure, but miracles still surround me, and for that I am most grateful. 

2018 has had its ups and downs, achievements & letdowns, laugh & tears. Every year will. Emotionally & physically I have been challenged, but through it all God & family have remained steady. My goal for 2018, will continue throughout 2019; Striving through difficult days with the memories created during the more tolerable ones. One thing I’ve learned through my experiences, through saying goodbye to friends & loved ones that have rejoined Christ in Heaven, is that life is too short and treasured memories are too important to waste. (Even if I have to deal with terrible physical consequences afterwards.) Our online GP support group said goodbye to 50 young souls in just 2018 alone, 50, and that does not include any of our friends that passed on prior to 2018. I'm sure that there are probably others that we are not aware of.  A friend I was close to in high school and another school classmate ended their lives at the age of 39 and 40 a few months ago. Family members and family friends have passed away this year, some of which were unexpectedly, due to illness and/or accidents. No one is promised tomorrow. 

Happy New Year everyone! I'm sure that we all will have hard and difficult days during 2019, but may we also be blessed with so many more enjoyable ones to share with our loved ones and friends.

I have learned that vulnerability scares me and chronic illness has added to the fears. Throughout my life, I have built walls and reinforced them more and more as the years have passed by. I avoid letting others get too close in an attempt to protect myself physically, emotionally, and mentally. I do not like to let other people know the most protected aspects of my inner self and personality. Being vulnerable, in my experience, often provides others with too much power that in turn ends up harming me in some form or fashion.

Vulnerability as a patient, literally scares the hell out of me, especially with doctors that have not earned any of my trust. Vulnerability requires transparency, reaching out from my comfort zone, and taking risks that I will be dismissed, doubted, questioned, or mocked from the very doctors (or nurses) that I am trying to receive help from. Past medical experiences that I've endured have led me to retreat further and further, and created new apprehensions, memories, and fears. 

I've been dismissed, ignored, told it's all in my head, etc various times since being a teenager. Those same doctors, the ones that were supposed to be treating me and helping me get better, instead told me that there was nothing else they could do to help me. I believed them, because what they said was supposed to be right. They had the medical degree, not me, so I tried to convince myself to work through the symptoms, stop complaining, and to stop being a wimp.

And you know what? After months of dealing with the same issues with no improvement and often worsening symptoms, I finally ended up seeing different doctors which eventually led to answers and relief. In some cases, I had to deal with the ignorance in emergency and/or hospital rooms until a new doctor was assigned to me or my vitals went haywire. Each of these times, I had known that my body was not right - but was simply not listened to or not believed - and taught to doubt myself and my reasoning when I had been right all along.

I get it, we can't expect to be "cured" or "healed" when we don't know what the issue is, but making patients feel like they are making it up or not experiencing what they most definitely feel within their body, is more damaging and sometimes downright dangerous. In some cases even life threatening. If a doctor doesn't "see" the problem, if the test(s) aren't discovering the definite problem, the least one can do is reinforce with the patient that you believe them and are going to continue trying to help them find a solution that will help them feel better. It may take a while, it may take patience, it may take monitoring or trial and error symptom management, and that's okay.

It appears at times that Doctor's will suggest a possible issue, may (or may not) conduct a test or two to rule out a possible diagnosis, may try a medication, but then if you don't improve, it comes back as being the patient's fault. The patient is blamed for how they are feeling or blamed for not getting better yet. Many doctors can't seem to accept that they may be full of knowledge, but they still don't know everything. Some (thankfully not all) doctors carry too much pride or arrogance to admit that they don't have the answer or the cure.

As a patient, most of us gain respect from a doctor that admits this and follows by saying that they will not give up on helping us find improvements, even if symptom management is all that we can do. And trust me, there are some rather awesome doctors around! I can admit that. 

A little suggestion from a patient, please don't tell patients that they are not feeling what they feel, or that it isn't real, and then send them away or drop them as patients. This doesn't help! Patients remember and internalize the way they are treated and begin to resist and doubt the intentions of doctors in the future. They begin to lose hope, withdraw, and at times give up on not only the medical field, but on themselves. When we begin to feel as if no one or nothing can help us, that we are at fault for being sick and feeling as awful as we do, we lose our perspective. Many of us carry around the weight of being (or feeling like) a burden to our families, losing the careers that we worked so hard for and even loved, watching our family worry too much, or even begin to feel worthless. Who wants to live like that? We are all different, how we think and process things may be different as well, but at some point the resiliency and desire to keep trying so hard diminishes. 

We are expected to trust our doctors, sometimes more than we trust ourselves. We are expected to expose our vulnerability. But how? 

According to urbandictionary.com, the definition of Vulnerable is
"Someone who is completely and rawly open, unguarded with their heart, mind, and soul. Being vulnerable happens when you trust completely. Rather its vulnerability by pain or joy, it's being exposed with all of the emotions that make it easy for someone (someone you trust) to really do some emotional damage or healing.. Vulnerability is the surrender of all control and personal power in regards to letting someone close enough to destroy you!" 

Vulnerability as a patient is most definitely daunting. and intimidating. Placing your self care in someone that you are expected to trust, when so many other medical encounters have proven otherwise, is a difficult challenge. The frustration of some doctors minimizing pain and sickness, condemning you for not "getting better" or allowing your disease to interfere with your life, condemning or blaming secondary gain if you try to hang on to blessings or portray optimism - is a no win situation. Unfortunately, some doctors create more harm than good. 

Don't get me wrong - there are magnificent doctors around as well. They are able to "see" and "understand" their patients, are beneficial, and truly make a difference in healing or improving their patients' health, and in return life.  

The thing is, when a someone is already struggling and falling apart from illness and it's impact on daily life, a doctor has the power to throw the life line to help or the anchor to make one drown faster. Sometimes the tide that moves us, is set in motion by the personality of doctor that treats us. Literally, our lives can depend on the luck of the draw or flip of the coin. 

For example, 
I spent months dealing with severe off and on lower back abdominal pain and nausea as a young 32-33 year old adult. I had extreme pain spells that would take my breath away and bring me down to my knees. My primary continued to tell me that if I lost weight it would help. According to him, my pain was a result of my eating habits and lack of exercise. I was told to take tylenol. There was nothing else he could do. Labs were fine. Could be a pulled muscle. Probably just stress. Etc.... (Chronic Patients know the routine.) I was made to feel like a fool. But once again, doctors are "supposed" to know best. So I continued teaching through the sporadic pain spells. Tried to ignore them. My young kids (a first and third grader at the time) massaged and walked on my back to help relax the muscles. Labor Day weekend 2011 my symptoms became too extreme to stand or sit. I couldn't stop throwing up and heaving. I could no longer ignore my body's messages. I could no longer convince myself that the doctor was right and that nothing, besides my weight, was wrong with me. Hours later, I gave up and drove myself in the middle of the night to the local ER. (I have no idea how I made it there in the condition I had allowed myself to get in.) Treatment in the local ER was inadequate as well. My pain level was off the charts. I couldn't stop vomiting. I couldn't find a comfortable position. The pain was making me extremely restless, dizzy, and weak. They discovered that I had a 9 mm kidney stone. We were told that I would be sent home with medicine and would just have to wait it out. While there my body was literally shivering out of control. My teeth chattering so hard that I was unable to get them to stop or even slow down. I was FREEZING internally. But I had no fever, so the nurse berated me, telling me that it was "JUST a kidney stone - stop being a baby." My husband left to go pick up the medication while they went through the discharge procedures. My mom was concerned and kept telling them that they could not send me home like this. Apparently, my coloring did not look good to her. Something was definitely not right. They ignored her. I was in too much pain to talk. They took my vitals one more time before discharge to find that my blood pressure had dropped to 60/30. I went from being rushed to discharge to raced upstairs to the ICU, had emergency surgery, and upon being placed in a recovery room, my blood pressure crashed again so I was rushed back to the ICU. A day or two later, after I stabilized, I spent nearly a week hospitalized in a regular room. My mom told me that it was like I was in a coma (though wasn't). I didn't talk, move, or open my eyes for days. The "just a kidney stone" that I was such a "baby" about was actually impacted and had caused a major kidney and bladder infection. My body was going into septic shock and my family was told that my kidneys had been in the process of shutting down. My doctors later told my family and I that I would likely have died if I had been discharged from the ER. I was fortunate. During the madness, someone did step up, listen, and take care of my needs.

I have other memories validating the fact of medical professionals doubting and dismissing my health concerns, only to later find out that I did indeed have something going on that could be corrected, contrary to their belief that "everything was fine."

From gallbladder stones, to severe constipation and impactions as a result of colonic inertia, pain and problems from pelvic floor dyssynergia, esophageal spasms from hypertensive lower sphincter, and central line infections (including bacteremia for at least 2 weeks while searching for answers and help while extremely sick), my experiences have varied over the past few years. Doctors have proven to me that vulnerability is a risk that I may NEED to take, but still fear greatly, because of previous medical experiences. Stating that, I must give credit to the doctors (and nurses) that did listen and help me in the midst of the negative experiences. Additionally, I must remember that, like us - doctors are human. Like us - doctors  choose how to react and will make mistakes sometimes. Like us - doctors have good and bad days. Which unfortunately doesn't make being vulnerable any easier.

I have had and currently have some wonderful and greatly appreciated doctors. Even though I may trust them, how much I actually open up or let them know depends, as I find it pointless to keep repeating the same issues/symptoms over and over when I know that there is no simple fix. But knowing that there are knowledgeable and compassionate doctors that are willing and wanting to help is most definitely reassuring.

So as one can see, vulnerability as a chronic illness patient can be very challenging and frightening. Our lives are put in the hands of others, we have to be transparent in order to have a chance of some relief and healing, while knowing in the back of our mind that we are placing ourselves at risk for additional harm as well as lack of understanding or relief. This is just a portion of the reason that vulnerability fears invade me in regards to healthcare.

Unfortunately, not everyone has been encouraging, understanding, or supportive. There are people, some that know nothing about me, and some that were responsible for helping me, that bring me down with their irresponsible judgements. Admittedly, I too, have passed harsh judgement on myself. Most of the time I can forget and forgive those that pass judgement because I know that they don't know what life behind my front door looks like; but the hurt of being judged still appears and is still unnecessary. Even more so, the heartache of people in the chronic illness community, being denied help or dismissed from medical doctors or nurses that lack compassion or willingness to truly listen is inexcusable; Which brings me to the other song I found today by Stine Bramsen, "Don't Judge Me." 

Cruelty and judgments, even when deceivingly done behind my back, hit hard. Not only does it devalue or minimize the impact of my illness, but it also sends me down a misguided path of shock and despair. Just because one does not have the capability of feeling my pain, feeling my nausea, living the negative consequences of my illness, or witnessing the decisions and choices that I make (disregarding the costs that I will have to accept later in exchange), does not give them the right to judge. Trust me, I would have no reason to pretend or exaggerate. There are no gains that would make it worthwhile. Why would I choose a life of torture? I can't undo the painful truth of how horrible my body feels, I can't undo the honest truth about how much pain food causes, I can't undo how much fatigue I experience, I can't undo the amount of nausea and lack of sleep that I endure. I can't undo the reality of my health. I can't undo the harm that some judgments have on my spirit.

As Stine's beautiful and powerful lyrics say,
"I can't undo the painful truth, I can't undo, God knows I wish I could.
Don't judge me, cause I can't have, I can't have your blame on me,
cause you were not there, you were not there;
so don't judge me, I can't take it anymore."

Sometimes, I "need to hide my pain away" to try to reclaim and live life. It doesn't mean that I am not hurting. Sometimes, when smiles and laughs are seen by you, inside I feel like I'm crumbling apart or that my insides are about to explode at any moment from pain, or feel like I will soon begin heaving by the aromas around me or intense nausea, but I choose to hide it in order to help those I love enjoy moments with me. I sometimes hide my miserable symptoms to strive for something meaningful and cherished in my life.  I choose to hide my symptoms, to protect others from worrying about me, or in attempt to protect my own mentality and spirit, if only for a few moments. So unless you live with this illness, you will never know how life-changing and terrible this illness can be on one's life.

"You'll never know how I hurt inside. You'll never know how I've cried and cried and cried."
Unless you live with the daily pain and consequences of chronic illness, don't judge me or others.
"I don't deserve you hate on me." Neither do they.

Trust me, those closest to me, know that "I am hard enough on me" already. I already downplay and minimize the symptoms I experience more than I should. I judge myself harshly by what I can't accomplish but desire so much to do. I judge myself for what I miss out of in life (especially when it comes to my kids), for what I have had to give up (like my career). I judge myself critically for why I am not better yet. I judge myself unkindly for judging myself on things that are outside of my realm, outside of my control. So please don't judge me, I can't take your judgement or blame anymore.

I do NOT write for sympathy. I do NOT seek sympathy from anyone.

I do NOT write for attention. I do NOT seek attention from anyone.

I simply write to record and process my personal experiences
and post in the off chance that they may help someone else.

I simply strive to discover a better quality of life;
to figure out a way to help my body feel better while living with illness.

If you do not understand and accept that,
then step out of my way, taking your false accusations and judgements.

​The morning was fairly normal, 
when compared to my normal at least.
My fatigue and nausea, more pronounced,
but in my experience they are always a beast.

I rode with my son on an errand
looking for where at his school he's to park.
Not knowing what lay just ahead
was my body preparing to spark.

I infused my regular lactated ringers
using my PICC line, like every other day.
Fueling my body with needed fluids
to keep my dehydration at bay.

But hiding beneath my skin
were embers that were no longer dormant.
Out of nowhere chills overcame me
with pain in my legs a boiling torment.

The internal blaze combusted
My body radiating such heat.
Intense freezing yet also burning
Fever scorching over 103

Unable to sit still or even to walk
I was in such tormentuous misery.
An infection was clearly simmering,
uncontrolled wildfire burning within me.

I tried denial and avoidance
For at home is where I wanted to stay.
I didn't want another line infection
My mind unsuccessfully tried to will it away.

But, my family saw through my anguish
urged me to get promptly checked out.
Sluggishly I made my way
for another hospitalization, no doubt.

Real Life Diaries: Living with Gastroparesis by Lynda Cheldelin Fell and Melissa Adams Vanhouten, includes personal heartfelt and thoughtful responses to inquisitive questions that other gastroparesis patients, as well as patients with chronic GI illnesses, family members, friends, or even medical professionals may have regarding life with Gastroparesisis and/or other chronic digestive disorders. 

The narratives provide readers with an inside view of the impact that chronic illness can have on one's physical, mental, and emotional health as well as their day to day lifestyle and the connections with those around them. Each of the stories are different, unique, and individualized while also sharing insight that others can appreciate and relate to. This book is not intended to diagnose or treat conditions, but rather an opportunity to learn more about some of the various symptoms, treatments, and knowledge that we've learned from our health experiences. The intention of the book is to make others more aware of their condition(s), recognition that they are NOT alone, and share ideas about treatments or procedures that one may choose to discuss with their personal medical team. 

If you are expecting to read a cure all, happy feel good, happy ending book - this is not the book for you. Instead, this is a realistic look into what patients feel, see, think, hear, fear, and even hope while learning how to live and cope with being chronically ill. Not only will you discover the impact that being sick may have on the patients' personal lives, but in some cases, how it impacts their social and family circle as well.

In addition to this book, I have also found the following books to be enlightening, educational, thought-provoking, encouraging, and/or helpful along my health journey. I will add to this list as I read and discover new books that I find to be beneficial.
(Clicking on the title will take you to the book's amazon page.)

Gastroparesis Healing Diet by Tammy Chang
Info regarding healthy eating and recipe advice from nutritionlist and patients.

Changes that Heal (Book & Workbook) by Dr. Henry Cloud
Book and workbook for deeper understanding in developing and healing yourself emotionally.

A Blessing In Disguise by Kristen Fox and Mel Kenaston
Blessings in Hidden Places by Kristen Fox and Mel Kenaston 
Both autobiographical books are from Kristen's personal perspective and experiences. Sadly, she has passed away since publishing her books. Kristen was also an online advocate, writing numerous articles for various sites, one of which was MTV.

After the Diagnosis: from Crisis by JoAnn LeMaistre
Written by a clinical psychologists, the reader is introduced to the six stages of emotional response to chronic illness that they, as a patient, may experience. The reader is walked through the stages of crisis, isolation, anger, reconstruction, intermittent depression, and finally renewal.
​
Gastroparesis: A Roadmap for Your Journey by Chelsey M McIntyre
As a pharmacist and person living with gastroparesis, Chelsey McIntyre shares what she has learned and experienced along her health journey. "Topics covered include foundational material on evaluating information, understanding what is happening to the body, and navigating medications, nutritional supplementation, and alternative therapies." 

Gastroparesis: My Personal Journey by Patricia L Rosati
Autobiographical book about Patricia Rosati's personal experiences with gastroparesis. As a nurse living with gastroparesis, she describes how gastroparesis entered her life and how she managed to accomplish her goals while dealing with symptom management on a daily basis. "From doctors who told me it was all in my head to doctors who took the chance and gave me a new lease on life."  
​​
After the Diagnosis: Transcending Chronic Illness by Julian Seifter and Betsy Seifter
Dr. Julian Seifter was awakened to life with chronic illness when he discovered that he had diabetes. His life changed in many ways as he began seeing and experiencing the patient experience. In this book he "teaches you how to contend not only with the physical problems, the social stigma, and the emotional fallout of illness, but also with the medical establishment. Convinced that a deeper understanding of the spiritual, emotional, and physical challenges will bring not only comfort and support but also better care, he emphasizes truths rarely acknowledged in medical writing."

Eight Days by Scott Thompson
This book is not about illness itself, but I found it to be spiritually comforting as you journey with the character through thinking back over his life, prior to death. "Life's short when compared to enternity, but eternity is only worth it because of life."

30 Days of Hope for Strength in Chronic Illness by Elizabeth Evans
Daily devotionals and prayers about life with chronic illness.

​Miracles from Heaven by Christy Beam
This book, also made into a movie, was a true account written about Christy's and her daughter's experience with Chronic Intestinal Pseudo Obstruction and a form of gastroparesis. She describes not only the physical impact that illness had on her daughter, but also the emotional toll that it had on her and family, the dismissive attitudes from medical staff. The mission and advocating she had to do for her child  as a result. But all is not bad, when faith is involved and certain people enter your life.

If you have a book that you have found to be effective with coping and/or understanding life with chronic illness, please post in the comments below. I'm always looking for new thoughtful and helpful books to read.

​Video from my friend Melissa VanHouten, urging the medical community and public to listen, hear, and support the GP communities need for awareness, care, and better treatment options.
​It can be shared from the Youtube link.

"I know my storms are not over, but I also know that my God is faithful. With every storm, there will be a rainbow. What an awesome God we serve! Just when we think we have had all we can stand, the clouds break and the sun shines through. It's as if God is sending us a hug, to encourage, strengthen, and bless us on our journey."
(30 Days of Hope for Strength in Chronic Illness by Elizabeth Evans )

How fitting this quote is! As I was riding down the road, with my kids in the back and my dad driving, I came across these words in the book I was reading. I stopped and reread the quote to myself, taking it all in, before I shared what I had read out loud. 

God is Great! God has so much Love and Grace for each of us, every single day! Life is not perfect for any of us, some roads are trickier and bumpier than others, but we all have obstacles that we will face. I feel like I've been through the ringer physically, emotionally I have been pained, and mentally I have been exhausted. But through all of this, no matter how it feels at the moment, deep down I know that I am not alone! God is with me every single step along the way. I may overly doubt myself and mistrust others, but God is loyal, loving, dependable, and constant. 

The devil tries his damnest to bring me down, to help me cast negative judgements against myself, and attempts to make me feel like I'm running solo down a path of pain, sickness, and heartache. 

But GOD is UNSTOPPABLE. HE pulls me through time and time again. 

The past couple of weeks my fear about an upcoming trip was becoming louder and louder, almost causing me to freeze and cancel. I wasn't expecting to feel "well" for the trip, but became fearful that it was going to be too much on my body. My husband tried to warn me, make me rethink my decision. But I held steadfast. I put my Faith and Trust in God that the trip would be not only memorable, but positively treasured. Physically, I was expecting to have my normal symptoms and illness related restrictions and challenges, but mentally and emotionally, I needed and wanted this trip. 

You see, this was the first vacation that I would be partially sharing with my children, my dad, my brother, his wife, and my adorable little nephews. I, personally, have never been on vacation with my nephews, who are 4 and 6. The weather was perfect with nice breezes and little/no humidity. My family was so accepting and mindful of my personal needs. Early on we saw how easily my body would give out on me as we walked from the parking lot to the museum. But my family didn't let it bother them at all, which kept me feeling comfortable and at ease. My afternoon and evenings were spent at the hotel running fluids and relaxing, while they did other things together - such as swimming or walking around the town. My dad and son even went on a ghost walk together. My kids stayed up late with me to make sure I didn't fall asleep while running my IV fluids since my PICC line wasn't cooperating at all! When I was out with them, I was in a wheelchair/scooter, kept in the shade, or sitting in the AC of the car while they explored some of the sites we stopped at. No pressure, no judgements, and no expectations were placed on my body or me. I was truly able to enjoy and live in the moment, carefree of what anyone other than my family and me thought.

We had fun! My nephew took charge of pushing me in the wheelchair as he enjoyed it so much! Must admit, he made the ride very interesting. The sickness I experienced was typical, the recovery period a little more than expected, but the experience of this vacation was oh so worthwhile! We all enjoyed the vacation and the memories from it will most definitely remain for a lifetime!

I believe that God knew I was in desperate need of some encouragement and motivation, so HE ensured that a comforting "rainbow" was sent to me during the "storm" in the form of a wonderful vacation. My body may take time to refresh, but, emotionally my heart and mind was rewarded.

Look at the outer me, 
really look! 
Do I look fine, to you?
In some ways I am fine,
but not fine as well.

Moving around the house,
tube feeds for nutrition,
IV hydration, 
Couple sips or spoonfuls here or there.
So yes I may be fine,
​But not fine as well.

Do you see what's beneath the cover,
what's in my soul,
the scars upon my body,
physically and deep within?
Yes, I may be fine,
But not fine as well.

Have you experienced my pain, 
my nausea, or constant fatigue?​
Silently trying to avoid outsiders
from seeing my inner struggles.
Yes, I may appear fine,
But not fine as well. 

Have you ever given up, 
not wanting to bother talking to a doctor?
Already knowing there's no relief to be found,
no new way to describe or explain.
Yes, I may act fine,
But, I'm not fine as well.

So when you see me
smiling, laughing, joking, loving
Know that I'm also
crying, struggling, pretending, trying.
As sometimes I may be fine,
​But, also not fine as well. 


​
​

Mystery Evening, hazy and blank.
Hour or more simply forgotten.
Apparently watched TV and conversed with kids,
while snacking on Italian Ice, they thought I was alert.

When all of a sudden, my words and actions were slurred. 
They couldn't understand a thing I was saying,
and noticed when standing that I was weak and unstable.

Kids told me the following morning that they had been worried,
especially when they witnessed me weak, confused, and jittery.
My daughters had called my son in to help, 
scared that I'd fall since I wouldn't stay in chair as instructed.

The following morning
I tried to reflect on the night prior,
How could I be present and semi-normal with my kids,
while having no recollection of the evening at all?

​

Where do I go from here? 
What do I envision my future to be like?

I can question my medical issues, trivialize, ignore, avoid, or tolerate them,
but that isn't all my life is meant to be about. 

Life is much more complex than just my symptoms. Will I ever physically return to feeling good on most days? Will I ever be able to nourish my body with the nutrition and hydration that it needs on my own, without requiring the use of medical devices, lines, and pumps? 

I don't know, possibly, but also likely not, but shouldn't that be okay?
Does it matter how I fuel my body, as long as it gets fueled? 
Should I have to keep putting myself through torturous and painful attempts,
just to try and be more normal in the eyes of others?

It's such a tricky slope.
At times, I honestly want to stop everything for a break and to masquerade in normalcy,
if even only for a few moments. 

Of course, it always seems to catch back up to me. The consequences I face can be harsh, physically and emotionally. BUT, at least during those moments it's from my choice and fault.

Sometimes, I put way too much effort at following doctor orders and trying to be an "ideal" patient, that I end up losing myself. I'm not saying that I shouldn't listen to or consider what my doctors say, but if it doesn't help or it if creates more pain and problems, then I have to figure out how to be REAL and concentrate on LIVING my life the best I can as ME. No one knows how it feels to live inside of my body better than me - so it's my duty to try my best to listen to what my body tells me.

I guess it's kind-of comparable to the automotive world.
I mean, for a vehicle to function properly and efficiently,
it has to have not only a charged battery, but also an alternator to help keep it running smoothly.

Have you ever payed attention at the various vehicles that surround you throughout each day? 
Ever considered the story that they tell? 

Some appear to be perfect with all the bells and whistles, but have only experienced the same predictable routes day after day to maintain their pristine image. Other cars appearing to be perfect, may actually run like crap, if they even crank up at all, simply because the owner failed to take care of the soul of the car. Instead, too much time, attention, and effort may have been placed on their visual appearance or internal mechanics were avoided or ignored. 

On the other hand, there are some vehicles missing bumpers, with dents and dings on the outside. Maybe even spots of rust. The interior may have holes in the seat cushions or cracks in a window. Likely, many of the "extras" that are desirable, but not essential, may not be present, but the vehicle runs like a charm. The purpose of the vehicle is still successfully achieved in the eyes of the driver.

Then of course, there are some vehicles that are somewhere in the middle. They started out like every other vehicle, shiny and new with zero miles of experience. They function well for the most part, but may need more attention or support along the way. Maybe a tune up has been required more often than most, maybe some recalls requiring corrections, tires or other materials possibly replaced, a defective radio or aggravating imperfections ignored, an engine rebuilt, or so on. However, the SOUL of the vehicle is strengthened and treasured for the many memories that it has been a part of and for the positive experiences it has helped provide. 

I envision myself as being in the "middle" category. My personal body being like a vehicle that is no where near perfect, requires more adjustments and tune-ups than I'd prefer, but also is full of valuable memories it's helped create along my journeys. Spills on the floor from unexpected mishaps, scratches on the exterior from bumps and accidents along the way, replacement parts for areas that experience malfunctions, and creative alterations to maximize performance. Memories of traveling with and visiting loved ones, special events like graduations, marriages, new babies, and vacations appreciated. A vehicle filled with sounds of singing, crying, laughter, worry, and yes even disagreements, but also the comfort of knowing that whatever the outside looks like, whatever negativity my body has experienced, that I have survived and remained true with all of the memorable history and all of my soul. My body, a vehicle that may not be the most dependable or beautiful one on the road, a vehicle that other's can't comprehend or understand how it functions, (including me at times), but a vehicle that keeps on traveling in search of more positive and memorable adventures with my family. A vehicle that maybe one day will discover the secrets behind how to make it work more effectively and reliably on the inside or, who knows, maybe one day my vehicle will be revitalized,  better than ever anticipated.

Therefore, my current focus is not only on my outward appearance, but most importantly, on my overall functionability. Some days will be a bumpier ride than others, some much more daunting, but thankfully there will also be some days that I'm able to cruise along in the wind. 

Shawn Mendes just released a new song that I can relate to. His heartfelt and emotional song, "In My Blood" is so on point. Our contexts or experiences that lead to the feeling of giving up may be different, but it still pulls at my emotions. Everyone, sometime in their life, has felt like giving up. Whether it be because of anxiety from relationship mishaps, financial distress, personal conflicts, health, or a mixture of all the above, the thought of giving up seems to find a way to creep into our lives one way or another.

I admit there are times that I have felt like giving up. Some more serious than others. Sometimes I've wanted to quit physically, sometimes emotionally, sometimes I have wanted to quit the whole damn situation. 

Sometimes, I simply want to give up on my search for improvements. I want to give up trying to explain or figure out a way to feel better. I want to give up playing with trial and error treatments and medications. I want to give up rolling around a damn pole or carrying formula around on my back. I want to give up playing the wait and see game. I want to GIVE UP because of these freaking painful and relentless symptoms that haunt me day after day. I want to give up because I'm frustrated from trying to help my body with needed nutrition, only for it to lead to a flare of sickening and intensifying symptoms.

I feel like giving up because I feel selfish for trying so hard to feel better, when my sole focus should be on my kids. I feel like giving up because I'm tired of pretending to be strong. I feel like giving up because I fail at finding the right words to adequately describe how I feel. Sometimes, I want to give up instead of trying to connect with others. 

I want to give up because my health can make me so undependable and unpredictable. I want to give up because it can make me feel useless. I feel like giving up when I am forced to passively watch life's moments pass by. I feel like giving up when I continuously have to battle ridiculous fatigue for attempting to participate in life. I feel like giving up when tears start flowing due to feeling broken, like today. Feeling numb and dazed can make me feel like giving up as well. 

Hell, I want to give up for having the idea of wanting to give up. I want to give up because I can't seem to be me, even if I'm not sure who I'm suppose to be anymore. Giving up sounds so easy, but damn, it adds fuel to the next fire!! It makes me ANGRY after I feel like giving up. Angry, ashamed, and disappointed with myself for letting it cross my mind, even if only for a brief moment.

When I speak of giving up, it doesn't necessarily mean I'm giving up on actual life itself. It may be giving up for a particular moment in time and then eventually reverting back to a more optimistic or more productive outlook.

​The key is that I may FEEL like giving up sometimes, but I DON'T GIVE UP. I CAN'T GIVE UP! I have too much to live for, to strive for, and owe it to God and my kids to keep giving my all, regardless what obstacles I face.

Guess that's why I absolutely love Shawn's message and his lyrics.......

"Keep telling me that it gets better. Does it ever? Help me. It's like the walls are caving in. Sometimes I feel like giving up, no medicine is strong enough."   

"Sometimes I just feel like giving up, but I just can't. It isn't in my blood. It isn't in my blood."

​

Shivering, cold chills tingling through my frigid bones and muscles
Exhausted and as cold as an icebox in the midst of winter. 

Intense desire of crushed ice piercing through my body. 
Full and bloated, yet cannot calm the raging cries for ice!!

Starving and thirsting for the freezing crunch to be felt between my teeth.
Wanting to relieve the burning sensations in my mouth. 

Goosebumps running along my arms and legs as I shudder and quiver under my heating blanket.
Whether I'm on the recliner or in my bed, the blanket is set to high.
At times, even needing the assistance of my heating pad.
Sweatpants, sweatshirt, and thick fluffy socks should be enough to keep me warm.
My stomach bloated, full, and nauseated but something inside still demands ICE! 

Nothing seems to make it calm down.
Agreeing to listen to my inner craving calms just a little when I give in to chewing ice. 
Annoying my family to the max and setting my other symptoms haywire.
Literally freezing the interior of my body, risking my teeth, in search of what?

ICE??
​
Ice from Sonic, Chic-fil-a, Hwy 55, or my favorite Cookout
​are preferred due to texture.
Crushing ice in a blender at home is a possibility as well. 
I've also tried frozen Italian Ices from the grocery store and can't leave out an occasional Pelican's shaved ice. 
I don't want the sugary syrup, don't want any soda or drink, just want lots of extra extra ice. 

I attempt to avoid the constant desire for ice.
Allowing myself to cave only once or twice a day & limiting the volume.
Whatever ice I place before me will eventually be chomped away. 
Leaving me with even more coldness and stomach discomfort to endure. 
An endless cycle of madness that I can't seem to alleviate. 

A paradox of ......
craving and chewing ice when I'm already experiencing cold tingling shivers that I can't warm up.
a stomach being crammed and forced to deal with ice, when it's already fighting against any intake.
listening to my body's a win-lose situation. Part of me wins while the other is denied & punished.

How do you have a date night,
when you live in a small town where everything revolves around food? 

Trying to be a "good" wife,
by spending a couple of hours with husband away from the house.

Aware that my energy is sparce,
that at any moment my symptoms and fatigue may become intolerable.

As a family we went to a restaurant for me to watch them eat;
But hey, it was still nice  to actually be out with my family.

Then we dropped the kids off at home,
deciding to attempt spending some 1 on 1 time together.
(I honestly can't remember the last time we went out, just the 2 of us.)

But remember, we are in a small town. 
So we went to the Ale House for him to have a couple beers.
It was completely dead and from my standpoint, boring. 
Beer, hotdog, and pizza aromas to fuel my nausea,

He finally decided that he would rather go somewhere else.
We left after he had 1 lonely beer.
Next stop, a local restaurant with bar. 
This time there was the option of beer and chicken wings.
Fun right? (full of sarcasm)

Our night literally consisted of me smelling food and watching others eat and/or drink.
Did I complain? No way.
I was proud of myself for actually agreeing to get out, even if it was to only be a spectator.

I wanted him to have a great night,
however,
he was left snacking and drinking by himself as I simply just sat and watched.
The night ended early on account of me, 
back home and in bed before 8:00.
Days of fatigue for me to overcome as a result.
What a disappointment and horrible wife I must be at times!

I wanted my 40th birthday to be not only memorable, but also meaningful. Therefore, I chose to use Facebook as a way to raise money for IFFGD. 
(International Foundation for Functional GI Disorders) 

You can still participate by donating HERE.

This fundrasiser was done in honor and memory of those impacted by GI disorders such as gastroparesis, colonic inertia, pelvic floor dysnersia, achalasia, reflux, and more. I promised to let my kids slime with me green goo on Facebook Live if we successfully raised $400 or more. Since the goal was met, my mom and I were slimed. Click here to see the video. 


​Learn more about IFFGD at their website: https://www.iffgd.org/​

I am worthy, like everyone else is, for effective healthcare. I have had, and continue to have, experiences with a variety of doctors in different locations and specialties with varied ranges of satisfaction. Some have been dismissive and uncaring, some friendly, compassionate and willing to help, and some have exceptionally gone above and beyond to help me discover improvements and regain a better quality of life. Below are a few of my personal thoughts about healthcare. They are not directed at any one specifically, but coming from concerns and fears that I currently have or have had during my health journey.
​
So how can a healthcare provider demonstrate effective healthcare for me?
What are my expectations?

1) Acknowledge and convey that I am not crazy, my symptoms are not in my head, I am not exaggerating, and what I experience is real! Unless you have seen me during the extreme symptomatic times or personally experienced the pain and nausea on a daily basis every time YOU try to eat or drink something by mouth, do NOT judge or patronize me. 

2) Treat me as an individual PERSON, not as a textbook example or just a case to deal with. Listen, truly listen, and hear what I am saying. Imagine yourself in my shoes. Respect that I know my body better than anyone else. If you respect me and understand my medical narrative, then I can better trust you and your suggestions. If you don't know how to best explain or understand my issue, please be honest with me. I'd rather know that you're unsure but willing to "think outside of the box", talk to colleagues, or conduct more research to learn alongside me, than be brushed off, ridiculed, or given up on. When you walk out the door, you may be able to put the paperwork aside and not think about it again. Unlike you, I have to deal and LIVE my life, with symptoms, every day. I can't close the door and forget what's ailing me. It's encouraging when I know I have a doctor that is dependable and invested in actually helping me when the time arises, even if they don't have all of the answers all of the time.

3) If labs come back abnormal and need immediate attention, please contact me. Don't make my primary or I jump hurdles or go on a scavenger hunt to find information that was needed as soon as possible. For example: Positive lab cultures for a central line and/or blood infection should be relayed to us immediately, not held on to for a week or more. I shouldn't have to keep asking over and over just to receive a copy of my own culture and lab results, ESPECIALLY if they were positive for an infection.

4) I'm aware of my risks! I do not take my health lightly. So, please value my needs and wants for an improved quality of life. In just this past year, our online support group lost more than 53 lives due to health complications including suicide, malnutrition, sepsis, and organ failure. Too many were dismissed or not listened to when they reached out for help from their personal doctors or were unable to find a doctor willing to take the time to help them because they were considered too complex! Friends that went to the ER for fluids because they were dehydrated, were mocked, judged, and blamed from the doctors and nurses that were suppose to take care of them. Some were even sent away with no help or answers, only to end with confusion, uncertainty, and unfortunately, even devastating outcomes. I realize the negative impact that chronic illness can have on all aspects of one's life, including dangerous risks and complications. So please respect my knowledge and help me understand what is the best possible treatment plan for me when taking EVERYTHING into consideration. I realize how important it is to have a medical team that communicates well. Yes, I may come with some fears or be hesitant at times, but I'm not being uncooperative, instead just being cautious because of similar past experiences that I or my friends have been through. In order for me to gain confidence or comfort in the treatment plan we discuss, I may need to ask questions, share concerns, or simply have time to think about it.

​5) I respect that doctors have their own colleagues that they know and work alongside. I don't mind a doctor asking me or sharing information with me in the case that I may be interested in meeting or working with one of them. I promise that I will always listen to recommendations, along with reasoning, and consider my options, including doing my own research if necessary, before making a decision. In the case that I don't feel like it's the best choice for me at the time, if something changes, I will once again reconsider my options and the recommendation. Just give me the same respect if I share how I already have someone in that profession that I have developed a trusting bond with. One whom works extremely well with me, understands and has witnessed my health scenarios, helped me handle them for numerous years, and is an essential member of my health team. Trust me, finding caring trust-worthy doctors is not easy. Starting over with new doctors that are not familiar with where I've been, what I've experienced, the progress made, or the struggles that I still face with my health day after day for 5 years come February, is stressful and intimidating. I shouldn't have to keep being put on the spot to "prove" what I deal with. I deserve to have a medical team that knows me and understands me, that I feel comfortable with, and that I can have open, honest, and trustworthy communication with.

6) Do I want to roll a pole around all day with IV hydration or carry around my tube feeds all day? NO!  They honestly can be a pain in the ASS some days! However, I am aware that they help me. They are keeping me stable, allowing me to function better at home, get out of the house for a few minutes with family on some days, and keep me from wobbling around in dizzy weak lightheaded spells. More than many may realize, I'd love to be able to eat or drink an adequate amount to meet my nutritional and hydrational needs. I'd love to be "normal" or even semi-normal again. But my body isn't there and likely never will be. I'm not dealing with a simple stomach bug! Saying that we're going to get more fluids in and remove the central line sounds easy enough in theory and looks great on paper. I understand that you are concerned. Even though it may not be true, when dealing with the consequences of minor attempts causing so much distress, it SOUNDS like I'm being told that I'm going to be stranded, left in a dehydrated state, and have to return to ER visits on a regular basis for fluid intervention. It SOUNDS like, I'm not being believed, that I don't know my body, that it's ok if I'm stuck at home lying on the couch like a lifeless log. It SOUNDS like my concerns and fears are not being heard. Will I try to follow my doctors' ideas and suggestions? Absolutely. I will continue to keep pushing limits and dealing with the painful nauseating consequences again and again, even if I'm already trying. Nonetheless, it is terrifying to consider that my fluids may be taken away and I'll have to return to the hell I faced prior to receiving them and when I attempted ceasing them during treatment with my prior GI. Yes, I get it, the medications are different and still being adjusted. Maybe, something will improve. We won't know unless we keep trying.  I admit all of that may be true; The new medications may eventually help me improve my nutritional input with less severity in symptoms. What appears to be missing is that I DO TRY ALL THE TIME, which I vow to continue doing, and I STILL STRUGGLE with symptoms. The thought of being stranded and dehydrated or being forced to hesitate on a regular basis if the ER is necessary is terrifying. I hear you when you say that we will do it gradually, and appreciate that. Slowly decreasing fluids will be more helpful than a drastic halt. But, please hear me when I say that almost feels like a self-punishment, even when I AM keenly aware that it is being done with the best intentions and in an attempt to decrease my chance of a life-threatening infection.

​7) Remember, I am me! My body works based on my health, my organs, my muscles, etc. I live with my body 24/7 while you may only see me for about 30-45 minutes every 3-4 months. There is no need to compare me to other people, especially ones with other illnesses. It is not reassuring. They are not me and I am not them.  We are all individuals. The way my body reacts to treatment plans may not be as effective as it is for others. Similarly, certain treatments may work better or help me more than they help someone else. I've learned that treating my illness takes a lot of trial and error attempts and I can't help but become leery of changing something that is notably helping me. Saying that, a doctor can help me understand their point of view and/or reasoning by taking the time to explain exactly how the newest treatment plan(s) we discuss will be more reasonable than the current one for MY health, now and in the future.

8) Realize that ALIVE and LIVING are 2 different things: 
If it takes feeling unbearably awful to stay home pushing fluids in an uncooperative GI system, without help from IV fluids, just to stay alive, what's the point? If I become more miserable every day, and am literally just here surviving in discomfort, hope is lost, and the desire to be around decreases. If I must take risks to have some relief and energy, so I can actually LIVE with my family, go to the store with them, interact and help them around the house, attend church on some Sundays, etc.. is it not worth it? IV hydration has definitely helped me become more balanced. Being hydrated gives me a reason to keep striving forward with some hope that tomorrow or the next day may be a decent day to enjoy with my family, while also providing me time and limited energy, but energy nonetheless, to create family memories that help me face the consequences after or during the awful symptomatic times. At times I may choose to place emphasis on Quality of Life over Quantity of Life or vice versa. To be quite frank, if Quality of Life diminishes to levels that are hard to recognize or accept, that's when people are more likely to give up on life itself. That's when health seems to take a nose dive, hope disappears, and suicidal thoughts or worse become more pronounced. This is what I want to AVOID at all costs! However, I also don't want to take unnecessary risks for things that may be avoidable, such as infections or blood clots. It's a difficult line to draw in either direction. So PLEASE be PATIENT with me when situations like this occur, whether it's regarding IV fluids, tube feeds, new medications, side effects from medications, surgical interventions, etc. I am not being difficult! I may just need some time to adjust to the idea or figure out my personal comfort level. 

9) While I need and want my health providers, regardless of specialty or level, to be comforting and encouraging while providing me with effective medical care, I don't want to be plagued with false hope. My hope has been crushed too many times and I now feel compelled to try and remain neutral. I try not to let my hope build too much, as I don't want to set my family or myself up for more disappointments or failures. I need realistic expectations and goals more than overly optimistic hope. I'd much rather be pleasantly surprised with unexpected positive results once in awhile, than repeatedly discouraged or hurt by expected improvements that do not occur and possibly may never be obtained. 

10) Being friendly, smiling, and laughing are part of my character, even when I feel awful. These characteristics help me cope with feeling miserable. It is also my way of trying to comfort my family, especially my kids, so they do not worry about me. When you get to know me better, you will likely catch me trying to put on the "brave mask" as a way of protecting myself. I do not intentionally downplay my symptoms, but have been told that I do so quite often. For this hurdle, I apologize. However, if you actually listen to what my family and I describe, watch my body language, and try to relate, you will likely be able to tell the difference between my "coping positivity" and my genuine feelings. Eventually, with time and after trust is gained, I will feel more comfortable and become better able to be authentically vocalize my reality.

In short, effective healthcare is seeing me as an individual PERSON, treating me with respect and empathy, providing me with honest medical care and knowledge of the positives and negatives regarding my health and treatment options, while also developing a relationship built on open communication. Together, my healthcare team and I can determine what the best course of action is for my personal health circumstances. When effective healthcare is provided, a healthier future can be made possible. And isn't that the ultimate goal?