It's difficult for me to be so open about these kinds of things. I think it's important though, so here we go. Once in awhile life sucks. There are teachings based on overcoming struggle that say being negative is not helpful during difficult times. I have read the power of now and loads of other spiritual books that speak on staying present in the moment, questioning your thoughts and maintaining a level of clarity when faced with something that seems hard to overcome. I have endured my fair share of hardships and struggle, as we all have. I have learned to take bits and pieces of ideologies and spiritual practices that feel right to me and utilize them in ways I see fit to help me endure. Sometimes though, you just gotta feel sorry for yourself. I think there is beauty in not candy coating struggles. We are all going through things in our own ways. Pain is pain, no matter what it seems like in comparison to anyone else's. This is a candid depiction of my health struggles.
When I was 16 years old I was diagnosed with Arnold Chiari Malformation Type 1. I have had three brain surgeries. The first surgeon took out too much of my skull and broke one of my vertebrae. The surgeon didn't tell me about the broken vertebrae. My symptoms escalated to the point of needing treatment and after seeing multiple doctors (one who wanted to fuse my spine) I found a specialist out of Wisconsin. He is the one who discovered that my brain was prolapsing out of my skull 6 cm and the broken vertebrae had healed incorrectly and I was then diagnosed with cervical myelopathy (a degenerative disease of the spinal cord commonly found in the elderly). He fixed the prolapsing of the brain and I came back to Michigan. Within a week I felt as though I was dying. Little did I know a concoction of infection was brewing in my brain. 3 different types of bacteria had made their home in my head. I consulted two different doctors explaining how terrible I had felt, both prescribed a dosage of antibiotics and sent me on my way. I remember thinking to myself that maybe I would end up dying because nobody seemed to believe me when I told them how terrible I felt. My condition worsened and I flew out to to Wisconsin to see the surgeon. He did an emergency surgery, explaining how life threatening this was. I was in the hospital for a week on IV antibiotics before being sent home with a surplus of hulk strength antibiotics that I took for the next three months. They kicked the infections ass. I have had strange periods for as long as I can remember. One day I went to pee and I couldn't. It felt like someone was stabbing me. I retreated to the floor, bladder full. The pain became so intense I could not move. My brother and mom carried me to the car and I ended up in the ER. The doctors ran a bunch of tests and found cysts on my ovaries. While explaining to the doctor the intense pain I felt, especially the overwhelming pressure I was experiencing in my lady parts, he laughed. They told me the cysts would burst and it would be fine. I left feeling upset and pretty embarrassed by the whole ordeal. I didn't feel satisfied with this and made an appointment with my doctor. She explained that I did NOT want these cysts to burst and that we would monitor them. I left for Europe a week later. While adventuring Scotland I had such incredible pain in my hip that I could barely walk, sometimes I couldn't walk at all. This entire time I had been an emotional wreck, feeling completely out of control of my emotions. I came back from Sweden and had follow up tests and appointments. The cysts had grown so rapidly the doctors were talking about referring me to an oncologist. Losing ovaries. Cancer. The tests came back negative for cancer and I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. I didn't feel relieved. I didn't know what endometriosis was and after doing research I realized that this was yet another incurable disease that I was going to have to deal with, that may even affect my ability to reproduce. I had surgery to remove the cysts, because of their massive size, they were displacing organs and pushing on my bladder. The surgeon opened me up and realized that one of the cysts had begun leaking and had covered my insides with a thick tar like mixture of blood and endometrium. I had lesions on the inside of my abdomen. He successfully removed the cysts and lesions and managed to save both of my ovaries. I now know that I have stage 4 endometriosis and that putting me into a medically induced menopause is the treatment the specialist sees as the best way to slow down the disease. I have found diet based natural healing treatments and anyone with endometriosis should know these kinds of treatment methods exist and some people fully believe in the success of diet based endometriosis therapy. When you are facing health problems sometimes you have to be your own advocate. You need to research and know what is right for you. I have been mislead, misdiagnosed and let down by so many doctors to know now that they are not gods. You cannot take everything a doctor says as the absolute truth. They are wrong sometimes, probably more than they should be. Sometimes they don't care and sometimes they mock you or make it seem like your symptoms are illegitimate. You are the only one who knows your body. You know when something isn't right and you have to make sure you are getting quality and accurate care. The thing that I hear the most from people is how strong how I am. I am not some kind of phenomenon. We are all far stronger than even we know. We are such resilient beings. Some of us have family members taken from us too soon, some of us are dealing with terminal illnesses, abuse, hunger and so many other adversities. We all have this well of strength that becomes uncovered when we reach a point where we think there is no possible way we can carry on. Some say it's the strength of god, some have no idea where it comes from and there are some of us who do give up. It's all okay. I think it's okay to get down and feel like the weight of the world is upon you. I think it's okay to feel miserable and overwhelmed by struggle. That's what it means to be a human. The beauty is allowing yourself the time to have a massive pity party, get that shit out of your system and then get back on that horse and ride. I have gone so deep into myself, shutting out everyone and everything in order to sort things out for myself. Everyone has their own way of dealing with things. We are all struggling and as long as we have humility, openness and compassion this world will feel a hell of a lot less lonely. Nobody is truly alone in their struggle, no matter how isolated we can feel. Struggle can be used as a tool for growth. It can bring us back from being caught up in money, power, keeping up with jones'. It can remind us what is truly important in life and give us a deep sense of gratitude for when things are good and hope for when they aren't. I can appreciate the struggle now for what it offers. I assumed the laparoscopy surgery would be a breeze. I figured in three days I would be fine, nearly two weeks later I am still not fully myself. I told my mom one day that I didn't understand how I could be in so much pain. "When you think about it, there were people inside of your abdomen doing the Watusi!" http://www.conquerchiari.org/index.html http://www.columbianeurosurgery.org/conditions/cervical-myelopathy/ http://www.endo-resolved.com/
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Mary is probably the most fearless woman I have ever met. She doesn't just pretend to be brave, she actually is. When I was young and a tornado was tearing through the neighboring city she reassured me that nothing would happen to us. She didn't go into the basement. She wasn't in the least bit scared. She will save me from spiders, cup and paper in hand. She doesn't kill them, she takes them outside. She says spiders don't deserve to die just because I am scared of them. This mom of mine is a fountain of wisdom. When Y2K hit, she didn't buy anything extra on her weekly shopping trip. Most families were stocking up on water and canned foods. Not us, we were checking out with only our usual food items. She said these people were crazy to think the world would end. I have never seen my mom scared in my entire life, except once.
It was just her and I home one night. We share a bathroom. I'm taking a pee and brushing my teeth at the same time when I hear this incredibly loud bang come from the basement. It's late at night and I am usually pretty jumpy. This noise was louder than what I am used to hearing when I'm up late by myself. I get this ping of terror in me. I hear my mom coming into the bathroom, figuring she will tell me that I am just being paranoid and there are no ghosts or axe murderers interested in killing me. She doesn't reassure me. "Sarah, was that you?" "No, I was peeing. I have no idea what that was but it was loud as hell." "I'll be right back." "No, there's no way in hell I am letting you go by yourself." We go down the stairs to the main floor. Adrenaline rushing. She wasn't scared in the usual way a person would be scared. She was ferocious. She was in mama bear mode and someone might be threatening her cub. She goes over to the fire place and picks up the axe that Mark uses for splitting logs. I am extremely amused and terrified at the same time. She's yielding an axe, standing at the top of the basement steps. She yells out to whoever might be down there. "If you are in my house, you are going to die motherfucker!" I burst out into laughter. If you know my mom, you will understand how hilarious this is. I have a fire poker. We go into enemy territory, armed with some extremely deadly weapons. My mom is going to chop someone up. She turns the light on. There's nothing there. She turns the next light on. Nothing. She checks the door, it's locked. No broken glass, no signs of anyone breaking in. She walks casually back up the stairs, sets down the axe and tells me she loves me. Fuck, she's good. In the spirit of mothers day allow me to brag about how awesome my mom is. I'm not going to brag about her amazing cooking, her hilarious tendencies to flabbergast me with her outrageous actions and the witty things she says. I'm not even going to brag about how supportive she is of my vagabond tendencies, or how loving she is. She's all of those things though and so much more.
I got a little crotch rocket for christmas one year. That's right. My mom bought me an incredibly dangerous miniature motorcycle when I was in middle school. She's that cool. Not only did she buy this thing for me, she wanted to ride it. My brothers and I take our turns riding it around the neighborhood. It's my moms turn now. We are waiting for her at the end of the driveway while she is off being a total bad ass. Some time goes by and we wonder, where is this daredevil mothers of ours? We start walking down the street in search of her. My brothers are ahead of me and suddenly they burst into a full on sprint. Paul is taking his shirt off mid run. I am freaked. I turn the corner to see my mom laying on the ground, crotch rocket parts are littering the road and my mom is covered in blood. I freak the fuck out. She's dead. She isn't really dead, mind you, but in my mind she is going to die and I am screaming. My thoughts are racing while Paul is in full on action mode. Paul is notorious for being the best person to have around in an incredibly hectic moment. Her leg is cut to the bone and Paul has his shirt around her deep wound trying to get it to stop bleeding. The ambulance shows up and she's taken to the hospital. She comes out of the hospital with something like 40 stitches in her knee. She has road burn on her face, shoulder, and her hand, as well as the most badass story I can think of a mom telling her kids friends. I would like to think I'm even half as great as she is. |
WARNING:
Usage of tasteful profanity which you might not consider tasteful. Some stories are vulgar. Colorful language and descriptions included. Reading these stories may cause you to become offended, appalled and uneasy. You have been warned. Read with caution. Categories
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