My Life Went to POTS

 

 

Do you remember a few years back the big recall that happened with Toyota/Lexus vehicles? You know, the  scandal that some of their cars were careening off on their own causing dangerous and sometime deadly havoc on the roads leaving helpless drivers unable to control the gas and breaking function.  There was a big investigation, Toyota denied any wrong doing, and the exact problem was a little sketchy because the problem was inconsistent.  Sometimes the vehicle worked fine, and sometimes it just slammed on the gas with no way of controlling or stopping it.  I remember thinking how truly terrifying that experience would be.  Now imagine your body did that and you have the beginning glimpses of what it's like to have Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) 

It's helped me so much to have a diagnosis of a condition that has haunted me since my 2009 hysterectomy.  My health has plummeted out of control since then and doctor after doctor, test after test, couldn't explain why until recently.  Mayo Clinic explains that  POTS is a extremely rare condition, only 500,000 cases diagnosed in the US, which occurs when the autonomic nervous system (the involuntary or automatic part) doesn't work as it should. The autonomic nervous system, made up of the sympathetic division (the accelerator) and the parasympathetic division (the brakes) controls most of the vital body functions like heart rate, blood pressure, digestion, bowel and bladder function and POTS is a collection of chronic symptoms that occur from this malfunction.  Symptoms often include tachycardia (rapid heart rate), chest pain, light-headedness, brain fog, skin rashes, dizziness, fainting, tingling/electrical sensations, shortness of breath, vision changes, vision loss, excercise intolerance, fatigue, headache, migraine, nausea, bowel irritability, bloating, sleep problems, heat/cold intolerance, excessive sweating, clamminess.  I have had all of those, except for vision loss. It affects mostly young females and is thought to be caused by chemical imbalances in the nerves controlling blood flow.  Viral infections, trauma, surgery, pregnancy, are all possible triggers.  In about half the cases, the cause is unknown.  Treatment is individualized because every POTS patient is different, and is focused on symptom management. There is no cure but roughly 50% of POTS patients recover to a good functioning state.  Many exhibit a relapse/remit format for the condition.  It is often disabling and extremely challenging.

So that's the clinical explanation.  Here's what it's really like to live with POTS:

Every day is uncertain.  You wake up to a disproportionate rush of adrenaline.  Your heart starts racing but you think it might be an ok day (not great) because you can actually move rather than feeling locked to your bed. You think maybe you can get some long overdo chores done so you get up and then your heart races, increasing 30bpm or more, turning your upright position into an instant sprinting condition, according to your heart function.  It's ok, happens all the time, just get dressed maybe take a shower and see how you feel then. You have to watch the temperature in the shower as heat exacerbates your condition.  A simple shower feels like a 5k race.  Get out and the blood is starting to pool in your abdomen (and/or legs) and  likely starting to change color from it.  Your brain is screaming for your body to pull the blood back up to it, so your heart pumps faster trying to accomodate.  Your face is flushing, you start sweating profusely and you probably haven't even dressed yet.  Maybe your spouse, your parent, your child sees you in this distress and they start to fear for your safety.  It's ok, it happens all the time.  It won't kill you.  You start thinking maybe that trip to the grocery store won't happen, maybe that load of laundry will have to wait because an overwhelming need to lay down (not necessarily just sit) overcomes you. Why?  Because if you don't you know you will eventually start shaking uncontrollably, the electrical pulsations will storm, you'll have disrupted vision, be unable to focus, have difficulty speaking, your bowels or bladder will cease up or just release and eventually you will faint.  Maybe you push through it anyway, gut your way to accomplish something in your day, while your mind constantly evaluates and negotiates with your body.  Maybe you actually accomplish what you spent months or days contemplating and talking yourself into doing because it is simply that challenging to work with an out of control body.  If you do, you pay for it. You are sick and bed ridden for days, sometimes weeks afterwards.  Then you start again from scratch.  Building yourself back up hour by hour to accomplish another task in the future, maybe a few hours from now, maybe a few days from now, maybe a few months.  It is a slow condition to work with.  You don't just bounce back. You work and gut and claw your way back to normal, never quite reaching it.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.  Maybe it will be worse. And in the meantime, you put a smile on your face and you pretend like you are ok enough and fight to hold on to the person you are deep inside while simultaneously mourning the loss of what you used to be able to do with ease.   A constant battle inside a broken body.   And that's how my life went to POTS.   

Are You There Blog? It's me, Barbara...

Six months.  Almost to the day.  It's been 6 months since I last posted on my beloved little blog.  Why?!  I've been asking myself that a lot the last few weeks.  Why did I just stop writing?  Something that was bringing me so much pleasure and was so cathartic in my healing.  I just dropped it like a dead weight, never to return again for six long months.  Why?!  Why am I just now revisiting it?  Picking it back up like a long lost teddy bear, turning back to it after all these months of neglect.  Why?!  Because I need it...

I've been thrown for physical loop, and I've tried for a long time to just ignore it.  Mind over matter.  Go about my business.  I'm ok.  A jedi mind trick of epically failing proportions.  Just because dozens of doctors missed it, and couldn't see it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist.  I am sick.  I've said that for almost 3 years.  I am not well. Something isn't right.  My body doesn't work like this.  What's wrong with me?  And I took it out on my blog.  If I stop writing about it, I take away it's power.  If I ignore it, it will just go away.  I was lying to myself...

So now I know.  Now I have a diagnosis (POTS and NMS and Hashimoto's Thyroiditis) and all the nasty honesty that goes along with it.  Some good news (I'm not dying,) some not so good news (I'm being regularly tortured by my own body,) and lots of uncertainty (very rare, recently researched, no cure, lots of hit and miss treatments.)

So where do I turn to?!?  My blog.  Because Judy Blume didn't write a book about me and dysautonomia, the utter breakdown of my autonomic nervous system.  So many questions.  So much stress.  So many unknowns.  So very scared about what this really means for the rest of my life.  The overwhelming impact it has on my poor husband and my young child, not to mention the rest of my family and friends.  I should reach out.  I need to reach out!

So here I am again.  Are you there, blog?  It's me, Barbara, and I need you now...

Just Say No!

 

Let me just start off by saying that I think most people in American society are prone to some type of overindulgence.  The freedoms afforded us by our Constitution lend an atmosphere of doing what you please because you have free will and excessive access to just about anything your heart desires.  Addictions arise when those habits, or indulgences that we allow ourselves are abused and turn harmful to our well being. 

That being said, I have a confession.  I have an addiction.  Now, it might be a "soft" addiction (thanks for the term Reader's Digest), but it's been harmful none the less.  As a matter of fact, I partially blame my addiction for my health woes and the worst part, everyone who knows me, knows I was addicted!  Now's the time to openly put it out there because admitting it is the first step to recovery.  So here goes...

I'm addicted to "yes."  That's right, I have a brutally hard time saying "no!"  Don't laugh, I'm serious (ok, you can laugh a little.)  I have led most of my life trying to be a  people pleaser, and being the go to gal for just about anything and everything people asked of me.  I didn't see the harm in being like that.  How could you be too accomodating?!?   That never made sense to me. Until I got sick. It literally stopped my life in it's tracks and yet even then, I still continued the habitual drive to say "yes."  

It was a "yes" to a doctor I never completely felt comfortable with that cost me the worst mistake of my life...my hysterectomy.  It was a "yes" to another doctor that caused me to experiment with biodentical hormones for over a year that ultimately landed me in the hospital and a subsequent 3 week stint at Mayo Clinic.  It was a series of "yeses" that brought on way too much volunteer, social,  and commitment workload that overtaxed my body.  Everyone around me could see it, but it took a major life altering upheaval  for me to acknowledge it. 

Are you skeptical?!? Not buying into the burden of "yes?"  I don't blame you, I was the same way.  How could being helpful be a bad thing?  A person who says "yes" has a can do attitude and can't that only make the world a better place?  Sure!  When it's in moderation.  Like most things bad for you, a little is good, but a lot is not.  

Now that I've had some time to step back some from the addiction, I can see how I derailed from the positive aspects of saying "yes" by taking on way too much that it really was affecting my health and taking away from what's most important to me.  You see, I hardly ever said "no," so I kept adding on and adding on and adding on until I was running through my days at lightening speed, barely slowing down enough to breath. It took my health collapsing for me to physically stop and forcing me to start using the word "no."  

I doubt I'll ever be comfortable with that word.  When I was a "yes" gal, I was a team player, I could make things happen, I was a doer.  Saying "no" means I can't do it all.  And you know what?!?  I can't.  None of us can.  It took this type of intervention to see that my addiction to "yes" was robbing me and my family of quality of life. Just because you want to do it all, you wish you could do it all, doesn't mean you should.  When you stop the cycle, you start replacing quantity with quality.  One of the toughest lessons I've ever had to learn.

So,  I take life one day at a time now.  I'm not totally comfortable with that, but I know it's the right thing for me and those I love most.  Just because I'm trying not to be a "yes" gal anymore, doesn't mean I still don't have a lot to offer and that a sprinkling of "yes" here and there ultimately lends to a happier and healthier lifestyle.  What do you think?!?  I'd love to hear your feedback and maybe, this just might be your intervention too!

T.A.B.O.O. ~ Talking About Being Open with Others

I need a support group. I need a surgical menopause, medical mistreatment, premature sibling deaths, autoimmune diseases, hormonal hell, Mayo Clinic patient, marathon tackler, life affirming but it will never be the same Support Group. Big problem: can't find one in my area.

So, I start walking (best physical and emotional therapy), but it doesn't always help. I get lonely. So I go on Facebook. I write a blog about my experiences and lessons. Still lonely. I like to actually talk to people. I talk to my dear hubby (for the 5 millionth time), I talk to my friends (the ones that are still around). They're kind of at a loss. They have witnessed my traumas the last 2 years, they see I'm still not the same, but don't have the foggiest idea of what to do to help. I know that sometimes there isn't anything that makes it better, sometime it just is. I keep fighting on, trying to develop a new sense of "normalcy." I have victories that bring me great happiness. I have moments that drop me back on my knees. I am frustrated.

I search for a support group...again. No luck. They don't even have a surgical menopause group for my age in all of Southern California tha I can find. If I want to discuss some of what I'm facing, I can hit the senior center, but I'm only 40. So what's my point?!?

I've come to the conclusion lately that we still have taboos, things we just don't want to discuss. I can see the physical recoil in the people I know, who genuinely care about me, when I bring up some of the things I've gone thru recently. It's hard for them to relate. It's hard to know what to say. Because many of us don't talk openly about the really tough stuff: illness, divorce, war, death, prison, financial hardship, mental disease, job loss, suicide, murder, rape, betrayal, and so on. When we go thru it, we brush it under the table, just wanting to fit in and be "normal." When we have not experienced it, we want to pretend it does't exist, like it can't be so close to our lives that we can almost touch it. That's why support groups pop up for almost everything from diabetes, to fibromyalgia, bereavement groups, to cardiac care, because sometimes people can ban together to support each other during an especially difficult time of life.

But I'm still searching for my support group. In the meantime, I'm going to keep on sharing my experiences, victories and frustrations right here on my blog. Encouraging not only myself, but others to Talk About Being Open with Others (T.A.B.O.O.s) I know I'm not alone. I hope my openness will touch another person who needs to feel that we all have struggles we deal from time to time. No life is untouched by some pain and sadness, it's just a matter of how you choose to tackle it.

The best advice I've heard online recently that really touched my heart and bolstered my spirit, "Trouble is a part of your life. If you don't share it, you don't give the person who loves you chance to love you enough." ~Dinah Shore

Pretty In Peeps

 Pretty In Peeps:  1 part Raspberry Vodka, 2 parts Blood Orange Italian Soda. Add with ice to a shaker, twist and shout, and pour into pretty glass.  Add pink Peep to top of glass with a straw and enjoy the instant sunshine!

Springtime is in the air (in theory- it's been cold, wet, and frigidly breezy most of this spring so far where I am, but hey, I'll play along!)  A renewal of life (well, I mean let's not go crazy here, I'm renewing life and all, but let's keep it in perspective, this ain't no cake walk.)  Easter hops to us like a cute fuzzy little bunny (that sometimes craps on you) with the warm glow of rebirth, and a spiritual awakening.

So speaking of warmth and spirits, I made up a special cocktail for the occasion while staring at an 18 pack of Peeps wondering what the hell those are really good for (not a fan!)  I've been thinking about how different this Easter will be then in the past 8 years.  No Easter party at our house, no epic egg hunt, surrounded by friends and family.  Instead, this year my small little family of 3 will be muscling our way through the buffet line at a mexican restaurant and hanging out at the Angel's game trying to pretend that summer is getting closer and closer.  I've had to come to the conclusion that sometimes, I just don't have the umph to do what I used to and what I still might want to do.  Yup, the old grey mare ain't what she used to be (hate that expression, by the way.)   When life sidetracks you or points you in a new direction, it's good to take notice and adjust to the new course ahead, never giving up on yourself, but realizing that change is not only a part of life, but a necessary one. Which brings me back to spirits and warmth.

I love a good cocktail here and there (wherever I can grab one!)  While I am mainly a beer and wine kind of gal, I am a sucker for a festive martini.  Mind you, I said "festive" not "tasty" "strong" or "stiff."   The one thing I love most about martinis is the look.  It's like picking your wine by the label,  I adore a great looking martini.  The glassware, the garnishes, pretty colors, and yes, it should be delish, but after a few sips, I can overcome that if it looks great.  Why, you may ask?!?  Because this Queenie loves a splash of color and liveliness in her Queeniedom.  It's so easy to get bogged down with the machine of life, but a great cocktail can magically transport you to another time, another era, another place, even if for a bit.  Mind you, 2 or 3 martinis can really transport you somewhere else, that might not be so pretty, so I'm not advocating that necessarily.  But, at the right moment, a fabulous martini can take the place of a bubble bath, a massage, or a spur of the moment jet away to Europe.

Which, once again, brings me back to warmth, spirits, springtime, Easter, and those dang Peeps that are everywhere this time of year.  While this year's Easter holiday will be different, I'm still a creative gal who misses the outlet of prepping for the big Easter bash.  Soooooo, I made up a new cocktail instead:  Pretty In Peeps!  A fruity, yummy splash of spring guaranteed to melt away the chill in the air and transport you to a land of sugary happiness, if only for an hour of the day!  Perhaps, you too, will find yourself knee deep in marshmallow nastiness and vodka and in need of a little vacay on your Easter Sunday.  If so (and you're of age, of course), stop what you're doing,  make a Pretty In Peeps and count the blessings that surround you (we all have them!) 

Now this is just my simple recipe that I found extra divine, but you may have your own favorite Easter or spring cocktail and I would love to hear about it!  Bonus points if it includes Peeps (did you know Peeps soaked in booze are MUCH better-true story, try it for yourself!)  There's even a great website for Peep Cocktails if you're interested: http://www.peepdrinks.com/about/  Check it out!!  Cheers to good health and happiness to all of you in Queenies & Martinis Land!!

The C.R.A.P. Is Back!

I'm loving the feedback from my friends on blog tips and suggestions.  It spurs the flow of creativity, which has always been a part of me.  I was reminded that back in the day (like last year), when I was in the middle of my undiagnosed and improperly treated illness hell, I used to post occasional quips I called my Calming Reaffirmations And Positivities (C.R.A.P.)  Being a sarcastic Queenie, I would zing out little bits of humorous bullsheesh in an attempt to keep me out of the depths of despair in the midst of some seriously scary medical frustrations.

Well, this year is different for me.  I can't help but carry the wounds and scars (many of them literally after 3 abdominal surgeries), but I am desperate to look forward, rebuild, heal, move on, get a grip, think of something new, get over it,  yada yada yada... So when I got an email requesting some of my C.R.A.P. and S.H.I.T. (Serious Health Interest Topics) be posted on my blog,   I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I had forgotten all about them.  They were part of my small lifeline to sanity, along with the Dolly Lamba (stuffed animal) and the Medical Magic 8 Ball (medical decision aid) that I used to navigate the scariest years I hope to ever know.  Shame on me for tossing my loyal aids aside now that I'm not in dire health needs!

It's time to bring back the C.R.A.P.!  As soon as I figure out how to separate it from the blog pack, it will have it's own space of honor on this site.  Little quips and ramblings that I come across or pass through my head that I'd love to blurt out in public if I thought anyone would listen.  I hope you like them and feel free to add a tasteful C.R.A.P. of your own if the moment so moves you :-)

Today's Calming Reaffirmations And Positivities (C.R.A.P.) ~  "Stay busy, get plenty of excersize, and don't drink too much.  Then again, don't drink too little."  ~Herman Smith-Johannsen

Don't Be A Drag, Just Be A Queenie!

I've had lots of blog ideas rattling around my Queenie brain the last couple of weeks, but I've been extra cautious to publish anything.  To be honest, I've been in somewhat of an emotional and personal slump since I walked the LA Marathon a couple of weeks ago.   It's a lot of things, all playing at once, LAM didn't provide the "feel good" factor I had hoped for because of it's horrific weather conditions.  The anniversary of my brother and sister's deaths have been weighing heavy in my heart.  And sometimes, the enormity of all that's been lost the last 2 years hits me randomly and overwhelmingly.  My health,  family, deaths, finances, friendships and social support have all been dramatically altered and while I am working to piece back my life in a healthy, positive way, there are days when I'm just not feelin' it!  I feel like a drag.  I don't feel like a Queenie. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not sulking in a corner having a non-stop pity party, unable to cope.  But I'm also not always my vibrant sunshiney self that is my true inner nature.  I'm a doer.  I'm positive.  I'm goal oriented.  I'm optomistic.  I'm energetic.  I'm happy.  I'm a Queenie. But while those personal attributes are not gone, they're also not at the surface as much as I like.  They are constantly negotiating with my other "newer" self.  I'm stressed. I'm overwhelmed.  I'm sad.  I'm scared.  I'm lonely. I'm tired. I'm confused.  I'm impatient.  I'm mad.  I'm frustrated.  I'm a drag.

I talked to a friend today who was asking about my blog and commenting on how she enjoys it. I mentioned that I have lots of ideas I'd love to jot down, but have been a little blue off and on the last couple of weeks and didn't want the blog to turn into a whine fest (a wine fest, on the other hand, would be totally appropriate and VERY ok!) She told me "but that's what a blog is for...to tell your story."  You see,  I've been concerned about dragging  people down or giving eveyone the wrong impression that I'm not grateful for my many, many blessings and ultimately I see my recent experiences as a life changer for the better.  I always hope for a positive purpose even under the ugliest of circumstances.  As Lady GaGa says, "Don't be a drag, just be a queen!"  But, my friend had a valid point.

I'm going to amend that quote to "Don't be a drag, just be a Queenie!"  I'm still a work in progress. I'm still mourning a mountain of losses.   I feel guilty for the sadness and fear my health and it's consequences has instilled in my family and myself.  I'm vulnerable.  I'm not pitiable.  I'm uncertain.  I'm not weak. I'm a fighter.  I'm still positive.  I'm not a quitter.  It's ok to sometimes be a drag. I am STILL a Queenie!!

I share my story and experiences knowing I can't be the only one feeling this way.  Hoping my honesty will shine the light for someone else who might need it, all the while helping myself on the road to recovery.  Please feel free to share if you know someone who might need the support. 

Long Live the Queenies!

What's a Queenie?!  I've been asking myself that for a few days now.  I mean, I know why I named my blog Queenies & Martinis ~ I like martinis... and it rhymed. Thinking about what to write and what not to write here, has caused me to put a little thought into what I mean by a "Queenie."

I know what I don't want it to mean.  I don't want it to stand for someone too superior, someone too proper, someone who's out of sync with the real world, someone who's experiences are not relatable or are just resting on their laurels, and to be honest... someone's who's old!  Don't get me wrong, age is a perfect way to gage the mileage and milestones of your life.  I am not now, nor have I ever been afraid of aging...naturally.  It's the unnatural aging that has gone on since my hysterectomy that I'm afraid of.  You know, showing more miles on the car than what's been actually driven. 

I guess that's why I like the term "Queenie."  It makes me think of a woman no longer a princess (thank goodness!) and not quite a full blown Queen.  A gal stuck in the middle of thinking life is figured out, and then being hit with the big girl problems that shows her she still has no clue.  "Queenie" perfectly denotes the balance that my friends and myself are facing now~ juggling multiple aspects of life all at one time.  Making sure you have enough time and energy for your kids, spouse, job, volunteering, friends, family, and of course, yourself  (which always seems the hardest part to balance.)  It's the ying and yang of the world constantly at play within your own body, mind, and life.  I think that's why many of us struggle when extra pressures and stresses present itself during these "middle" years (hate that saying by the way.)  In many ways, I feel the strength and experience to competently reign over my Queeniedom, but in a split moment, I can instantly feel utter vulnerability that I haven't been in touch with since adolescence.

To me, a Queenie is just trying to keep her head up, and crown on straight, while trying to balance everyday life, and navigate the new issues that naturally come up (whether you're ready or not.)  Luckily,  I know a lot of fabulous Queenies!  Women who are keeping a positive and "can do" outlook on life even in the face of challenging health problems, kid drama, marriage ups and downs, friendship changes, aging parents, death of loved ones,  money crisis, and career changes.  It's those Queenies I see everyday on Facebook and at the ball park, the soccer field, the coffee shop, or my son's school, that let me know I'm not alone as I navigate my own life changes and challenges.  When a Queenie slips or falls, she knows that it's not the end of the world, no matter how bad it looks!  Just pick yourself up, dust your crown off, and keep moving forward!  So, Queenies Unite!  Long live the Queenies!!

Sleepy Ladies (Tylenol PMd It)

 Sleepless nights suck!!  I've been having a bunch of them lately so thought I'd take Beyonce's "Single Ladies" song and revamp it to better suit my needs.  Sing along if you're feeling me...  

All the sleepy ladies! (all the sleepy ladies) 
All the sleepy ladies! (all the sleepy ladies)        
Now throw your covers off!                                                                                                     Up in the night, just woke up, I'm sweatin' like it's 115!                                               Did I set the alarm code? Damn I feel old!                                                                     
Guess I'm watchin' some mindless TV.                                                                              
I'm up all night. Makes me quite a morning sight.                                                    I'm livin' sleep dep-ri-va-tion!                                                                                                 
Been cryin' my tears, for 2 bad years,                                                                                 I deserve sleep to come nat-ur-ally!!   
                                                                                                               
 If I want it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!                                                                      If I like it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!                                                                Martini or Margarita might do  it...                                                                                But if I need it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!!         

WUH-oh, oh, oh, oh, oh oh!  NOW I'm cold, Uh, oh, oh, OH!                              

 I had a margarita on my lips. A burrito's stickin' to my hips.                               And now my pants are always tight on me!                                                                  My gut's actin' up cause I had drink in my cup!                                                             Hey, don't sit there and judge on me!                                                                                  I need no permission, didn't I mention,                                                                                I've got major sleep dep-ri-va-tion!                                                                                     My tummy takes a turn, and I'm startin' to learn,                                                 Sleeps the one thing I miss 'bout being 20!!                                                                                               

If I want it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!                                                                       If I like it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!                                                                            Martini or a Margarita might do it...                                                                              but if I need it, then I shoulda Tylenol PMd it!!  

WUH-oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!  Laundry I'll fold...Uh, oh, oh, OH!                                        

 (My big diva solo...)                                                                                                              DON'T push that homeopathic stuff onto me world!                                                                                                                                                  I'm not that Suzanne Sommers girl!             
OTC meds are what I prefer.  What I deserve...                                                             Is a pill that's easy on me... then takes me... and delivers me                                 To a dreamland destiny to infinity and beeeyoooond!                                                Eight hours ain't so long. Sweet sleep inside my home.                                          But if I don't...                                                                                                                          "Was that a noise? Ugh, IT was a snore!"                                                                        And then Poof!  Sleep is gone!!!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          (Now everybody..)  
        
All the sleepy ladies! (all the sleepy ladies) 
All the sleepy ladies! (all the sleepy ladies)     
Now your covers back on!                                                                                                      WUH-oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!  THIS GETS OLD, oh, oh, OH!!                     


Good night everybody!  Sweet, sweet slumber and happy dreams!!

Mourning Tribute

April 5th marks the one year date that my mother, two sisters, myself and the rest of our family buried my brother, who passed away of a heart attack in the car while traveling with another sister to visit my other sister, who died just three days later from Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Meanwhile, in another state, I was undergoing multiple MRIs, CT scans, and visits to a Neurologist and several other specialists to help diagnose why my brain and body were spinning out of control.

I received last minute medical approval to travel to their dual funerals.  The sadness of that time is still overwhelming. Our family was forever shattered, and my mom was forced to suffer the unthinkable, not only burying one child, but two at the same time. With the death of another sister, a baby girl who lived to be a year old with a heart condition, my mother had the horrific honor of placing half of her six children into God's eternal care.

My two sisters and I spoke at their funerals. As the one year anniversary approaches, I'd like to share my sentiments that I spoke on that heart wrenching day...

"Being the youngest of my brother and sisters, by a few years, has given me a different perspective. Much of their early years were gone. Paul was a young adult and Malinda a teen by the time I was fully aware. Hearing them talk about the old house, the fun family parties, family trips, and of course, church pageants and events, always made me wish I could have been there and enjoyed the youth of my bright eyed, super intelligent brother, and my toe haired and very nurturing older sister. But the truth is, that while I might not remember their youth, my brother and sisters have always remembered mine. Each of them, whether they ever knew it or not, have been my teachers as I've grown and developed. I have looked up to each and every one of them at some point in my life. Like when I visited Paul at the University radio station, watching him engineer the Big Board...I was so mesmerized. He was so very smart, just naturally. Or when my sister Malinda took my five year old body and hoisted me on her shoulders for a pageant routine. She was so shaky at that young age, but she gritted thru and pulled it off on shear determination. I've watched and learned so very much from my siblings...my teachers. They each have played a pivotal role in the person I am today. I am painfully sad that our family is so dramatically altered, but I am so grateful for the lessons taught by my brother, Paul, and sister, Malinda, and I am comforted that they can both now Rest In Peace. I love you both."

Merry Menopause: How I Went From Ginger to Mrs. Howell In 90 Minutes

What's the difference between these three icons from Gilligan's Island?  Oh sure, about 20 years, but guess what else?  Menopause!!  Yup,  I'm now convinced that's what made Ginger and Mary Ann the stars in the battle of the beauties while Mrs. Howell was trying to fit in!

I know because I used to feel a lot more like Ginger. But since my surgical total hysterectomy two years ago, I can now relate a lot more to Mrs. Howell.  Look, I get it, women have been griping about their menstrual cycle since they first got it, and it doesn't stop until they don't have it anymore. Then they complain about the after effects of not having a period.  It's an old story, but frankly, women (like me, and my family, and my friends, and the neighbors, and those with daughters) need to know that the insanity that can be your female organs, or lack thereof, is not all in your head.  I now am living proof!

Before TAH/BSO (hysterectomy), I had tons of energy, felt vibrant and useful taking care of my family and everyone else around me whether they wanted it or not, taking on the world and never saying "No!" - Ginger.  Since instant menopause at the age of 38, I struggle to maintain any form of energy, I focus on taking care of my family and worry less about taking care of everyone else, and "no" has become a regular part of my vocab- Mrs. Howell.

In my Ginger days, my hair and skin was healthy and glowing.  My eyes were bright and shiny.  In my Mrs. Howell stage, my psoriasis is going nuts, my hair and skin is drier than the Mohave Desert,  keeping my eyes hydrated is a full time job.  Ginger days- I could keep tabs of not only my tasks and events, but those of everyone I knew and their family, all at the top of my head!  Mrs. Howell days- I'm lucky if I can remember...wait... what was I saying?!?

The Ginger in me relished the thought of not having to deal with a period anymore.  No more female products to pay for, don't have to worry about unplanned pregnancies, no more cramps, mid-month bloating and PMS.  I could wear all the white I wanted!  The Mrs. Howell in me has been juggling hormone replacement therapy, acid reflux meds, bone density screenings, mammograms, newly diagnosed thyroid disease, sleep deprivation,  menopause supplements (that don't work), crying like a baby, bloating ALL THE TIME, and being so bitter about not being a Ginger, that I haven't  even had time to think about not having my period anymore.

I spent many, many months working hard and raging against my body's new reality, desperate to get my Ginger back. But you know what?!?  I finally came to the conclusion that I might not ever get back to my Ginger stage, but being Mrs. Howell isn't all that bad.  Mrs. Howell always had herself together. She was the matriarch of the group, still very fashionable, and did you ever notice how relaxed she always was?  She was always so calm and didn't take the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was the Queen of K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Stupid).  I think her and Thurston were the only ones who felt like they were really on vacation. She could keep up with everyone else, when she chose too, but didn't get sucked into the duties she didn't want to.  Some of it comes naturally with age, but being 40 with a hysterectomy, I know a lot of that comes from menopause! 

One of my big lessons learned:  Don't always wish for what you don't have or what is now lost, embracing what you are left with can save a lot of time and frustration and just might be exactly what you were meant to experience and be at this moment anyway!

What do you think?  Your comments and feedback are always welcomed!

Suck It Up Kiddo!

So, I'm a middle aged mom.  VERY stereotypical...I guess.   I've got a great husband, a fabulous kid, wonderful friends, perfect dog, nice home, I stay at home, I am on the PTA, I drive a whatever those new SUV type cars are.  Basically, I'm average.  I started this blog, however, because the last two years of my life have been anything but magical. The last two years have properly plucked me out of my quaint, sheltered, suburban lifestyle and dropped me on my ass in the middle of what I often thought must be a form of hell.  I know I am not alone.  I know the last couple of years, maybe more, have thrown a ton of challenges to most of you out there.  You might not have my circumstances, but I bet you can rattle off a whole slew of issues that have come into your life that you didn't quite think you had signed up for. 

I've had to strip down life and reflect on what really, truly matters.  I guess it must be different for everyone, but for me it really clarified what is and what is not important.  As a side note, I've got two years worth of complaining and analyzing that I can share with you, but I thought I'd start out simple with an expression my mom used to always tell me (and I frankly hear myself tell my kid): "Suck it up kiddo!" "Develop a tougher skin!"  "No one said life would be easy...(now everyone chime in with me)...or FAIR!"  Yup, I'm sure we've all heard it, and when you get to my age, you think you kind of figured it out. Well, I quickly learned that I didn't quite have life down pat like I thought I did. 

It makes me think, how do you "suck it up?!?"  Since my early 20's, I've turned to walking, more specifically, long distance walking.  It's been a coping mechanism that I can always turn to when I need to clear my mind, work the kinks out of my body, and feel like I have control and can accomplish something great.  I've done 2 marathons and one 1/2 marathon, all with my loving husband before my surgical hysterectomy and subsequent health decline 2 years ago.  During these last couple of years, while trying to find answers and help for my rapid decent into immobility, the one activity I could always count on, walking, was not available to me.  I would try and try, but my body just couldn't respond. It forced me to look elsewhere for help and support to get me through my dark days.  That's when I discovered not only the strength of my immediate family and closest friends, but the power of social networking.  It became a lifeline for the long and lonely days I would be laying in my bed.  I had no interest in electronic socializing before, but when my world came crashing down, I couldn't get enough of it!  It never replaced my beloved walking, but Facebook became my new BFF!  I even hosted Virtual Happy Hours when I couldn't talk (ugh) or maintain any form of stamina (double ugh)!!  It was a blessing that no matter what I was going through, someone on the other side of the iPhone or computer was there to help me "suck it up" and get on to the next day.

I'm happy to report that I eventually found the medical care I needed that is helping me get back on track, thanks to the Mayo Clinic.  I'm also thrilled to be out walking again and happy to report that through determination and grit, I finished another marathon (that's a whole other post).   It's good to take stock of what you need to do to "suck it up" when hard times come.  I know a little more about me now as a result.  I'd love to hear what helps you stay strong when times are hard and any feedback you might have on the subject.