chronic illness

Finding Comfort and Filling Voids

Finding comfort when living with chronic illness is imperative. Like it is important to get cozy in your favorite chair, feeling comfort in your soul will put you at ease during uncertain times.

Not only do I live with multiple chronic conditions, I also have debilitating anxiety. I have many coping skills that allow me to go to work, be with my peers and appear to be a normally functioning adult. However, about a year ago, my anxiety began to spiral out of control. So much so that I brought it up to my primary care physician. He wrote me a prescription … it wasn’t for Valium or some other anti-anxiety medication. It was for a dog! Yes, you read that right. He told me I should get a dog. And he was serious.

The following day I sat down with my husband, who just so happens to be allergic, and told him about my doctor’s orders. He didn’t say no (which I was surprised about) but asked me to research hypoallergenic options. Within a few weeks time we had decided to “pull the trigger” and went to pick out this sweet boy!

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Not only has our little Zoro helped me with my anxiety, he’s helped me fill a void in a way I didn’t expect him to.

As you know, I struggle with infertility due to my Endometriosis, PCOS, and Adenomyosis. Not being able to conceive has been a heartbreaking experience. While I am a stepmother, I did not have the opportunity to raise my stepson as a young child. He does live with us full time and has for years; however, I didn’t get to experience him as a baby, toddler and young child.

A couple days into having Zoro, my husband referred to me as “mom” to Zoro.  I can’t tell you how good that felt in my heart. While I fulfill a mother’s role with my stepson, I’ve never been called “mom”. I didn’t know how much I longed to be called that until I heard it.

Lately I’ve seen some memes circulating making fun of people who compare being a parent with being a pet parent. Trust me, I know it is not the same thing. Not even close. But he is my baby! I care for him every day and he depends on me. He loves me unconditionally. He brings me comfort, laughter and joy. And what’s more, he may be the closest thing to a “baby” I may ever have and that’s my reality, as it is for many other women.

If a woman finds comfort and joy in referring to her pet as her “child”, how does that adversely affect actual parents? Does it make them feel diminished or are they just being mean-spirited? Or, quite possibly and most logically, they probably find it humorous that someone would compare pet parenting to the experience of someone with a human baby. Either way, sometimes I feel like the old adage is true, “if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all”.

It is important to note that I have the utmost respect for parents, especially mommas! The sacrifices you make, the innumerable ways your lives have changed, all the ways you give to your babies day in and day out is amazing. Trust me, the fact that people compare parenting and pet parenting is not lost on me. However, it shouldn’t be lost on moms that some of us will never have the opportunity to know the difference like you do. As such, keeping your thoughts to yourself may be the kindest and mom-like thing you could do.

As I stare into the abyss of my somewhat inevitable void, having my little fur baby by my side makes it easier. I know it’s not the same as being a “real mom”, trust me –  I know this in the very depths of my soul, but he gives me comfort and joy in a way that is very meaningful for me. When Pat says to Zoro, “go ask mom!” and he runs over to me and looks at me with those sweet puppy eyes, for a moment I feel fulfilled, normal, and yes, I feel maternal. It makes the void feel a little less scary and all-consuming.

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So yes, I’m a dog mom AF! And I’m not ashamed of that. I’m proud of it. He is my little bundle of fur and love and he’s gotten me through some of my darkest of times. Zoro is my child in his own way and I’m glad to be his momma.

At the end of the day, I hope you all find comfort in the midst of your own voids. Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are and what makes you feel well in your soul. Whatever that is, do that without abandon and be authentically you!

 

Friendship and Chronic Illness

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Those of us with chronic illness know all to well how our disease{s} have changed our social lives.

We often don’t feel up to social visits – we barely survived the week, our weekends are for recouping. Not to mention that we have stacks of medical bills, so our “fun” budget may be limited. Those of us with chronic illness often prefer to be nestled at home, on our couch, resting up before facing another week.

In my early twenties, I had so many girlfriends. I was footloose and fancy free, a social butterfly if you will. As my Endometriosis and PCOS symptoms began to rage in my late twenties, I began disengaging from a lot of social activity out of neccessity. It didn’t take long and many friendships weeded themselves out of my life.

Now, at 34, I’ve learned that at times I have to back out of or say no to social activities. It isn’t that I don’t want to be there with my friends (I do!), but I know that if I don’t rest when I’m having a bad day or flare up, my week will be shot. I only have so much energy and when it’s gone, it’s gone. My weekends are for recharging my battery.

Having severe anemia and hypothyroidism only complicate my low energy levels. When I say I’m tired, it’s the real deal people.

The guilt I feel when backing out of a planned social activity is immense. I struggle to make the call or send the text to my friend for fear they will be angry with me or worse yet – hurt by my absence. I have felt the coldness in their responses and I just know I’ve disappointed them. And I can tell you my friends, that feels worse than my pain. The pain of tissue that grows in my body and attaches to organs, the pain of cysts bursting in the middle of the night, the pain of multiple surgeries, the pinching, burning, stabbing, aching pelvic pain is no match for the hurt I feel when someone I love has little to no empathy for me. That my friends is pain. 

This past weekend is a perfect example of how my chronic illnesses limit me. I hit the road at 6:15 am on Saturday morning to meet my friend in Green Bay for a boot camp lead by Peter from the bachelorette 🌹. I was PUMPED. When I woke up I knew it was going to be a rough day. I had pain and was feeling lightheaded. But I wasn’t about to miss yet another event, no sir!! By 6:45 I was nearing Pembine and had to pull into a gas station. The pain was so intense I thought I had to vomit. I went into the gas station, did my thing, and went back out to my car and literally sat there for about 15 minutes before I could even bring myself to tell my friend I was probably not going to make it. Probably? Yes, probably. I was trying to see if maybe I could still make it. The average person would not hesitate to go home with pain like that – many would head to the ER! Not me. I was fearful of upsetting my friend.

When I text my friend, I was met with nothing but kindness and empathy. No judgment, only concern. I’d like to say this is the typical response, but I’d be lying. Many people in life could take a page out my friend’s book.

Often my friends will say that it’s okay, but I can tell and I just know they are disappointed in me. They are unusually brief in their responses. I just know. I know they are upset. And that is what breaks my heart.

So how can you best support your friends who have chronic illness? Expect that they may cancel – have a back up plan so your friend knows they didn’t ruin your day and you’re still having fun. Respect your friends need for rest and believe them when they share with you that they are not up to it. Do not take this personally! It literally has nothing to do with you and everything to do with their disease. Offer a response that shows empathy and compassion. Offer to go to them! Go sit with them on their couch – chronic disease is lonely. I’ve never felt more alone than when I was supposed to be with friends and instead I’m all alone in my bed in pain. Don’t be afraid to go into the trenches and just be with your friend! 

With that being said, friendship isn’t one sided and it’s okay to expect that your friend still contribute to the relationship. Allow them to show you support in other ways – frequent texts or phone calls allows them to continue to be connected to you, even if they can’t see you in person.

At the end of the day, friendship is a two way street. However, you have to be willing to meet your friend half way. Just because this relationship is different than your other friends, doesn’t make it less valuable. Be willing to be creative, extend the olive branch, be kind, and let your friend know you still love them no matter what! Trust me, it makes a world of difference. I’m forever thankful for those friends who have shown me the above and I’m learning to let go of those who don’t. Friendship is about connection. We are bonded by our experiences and our mutual love and admiration for one another. That is worth preserving.

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Welcome

Silver Lining Logic

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Often times people will tell us folks with chronic illness, there is “always a silver lining” as a means to provide us with comfort. I can tell you that I used to want to tell those people to take a flippin hike because literally you have NO idea people! They wanted me to believe silver lining logic. I wanted them to buzz off.

I used to think the silver lining metaphor was a bunch of malarkey honestly. What good is there in suffering? I would be thankful to survive whatever health crisis I was enduring but I wasn’t thankful FOR the crisis. I felt burdened by it. Angry that I had to experience it. Jealous of healthy people. Lonely in my fears. Silver lining logic was lost on me.

However, following an extensive surgery for my endometriosis and PCOS in the summer of 2016, I started to see things differently. It was a six week recovery and let me tell you – the first few weeks were torture. I couldn’t sit on my bottom, could barely stand up straight, and had to wear an adult diaper for the first two weeks because I was bleeding so much. I won’t get into details about my operation, but I will tell you I was miserable. Embarrassed. Sad. Pissed. I felt broken and like “why does my body hate me so much?”. I felt thankful for my family and friends, but I also felt lonely in a strange way. Lonely because I couldn’t tell anyone just how much I grieved being a “normal” and healthy person.

When I would attempt to tell people where I was REALLY at emotionally, they would say things like: “well at least they got all of the endometriosis” and “you should be glad they saved your ovaries” and “it’s only up from here”, and my personal favorite “at least it’s not cancer!”. All well-intentioned statements filled with silver lining logic. I wasn’t ready. I was lost in my own loathing.

Following my surgery, as I lay recovering and bored out of my mind, I started receiving messages from women telling me their stories. Some were women I knew personally, and had no idea suffered from chronic health issues. Some were women I’d never met. Each came to me with words of encouragement fueled by empathy and a sisterhood I cannot explain. We bonded together and I began to realize I wasn’t alone. In fact, there was a tribe of strong-ass women feeling just as broken as I was.

In those weeks following surgery, something clicked for me. Was it that I magically saw this metaphorical silver lining and lost all my resentment related to my chronic illnesses? Definitely not. But I did see that there was something magical that I experienced as a result of my suffering. I realized how connected I was to other women and I learned that in some way we could help each other find strength. There was a power in my story and a gift in the ability to share it.

A year in a half later here I sit. I still have moments where I’m ticked that I have these conditions. But there are many more moments where I feel a greater calling to connect with other women like me. That our strength is in our stories. That maybe there is this silver lining people speak of. But it’s more than that. It’s a line that draws our hearts together and connects us to one another in a beautiful and profound way.

And for that, I’m blessed. And cursed. Tragic. And magic. Connected. And therefore, powerful.

Xoxo,

Kelly

finding magic

WelcomeWelcome to my site! This is my first “official” blog post 💗

I’ve created this space as a little nook for those of us struggling to find meaning in suffering, strength in weakness, joy in sorrow.

Living with chronic health issues can feel dark, lonely, and dare I say, tragic. But in that tragedy, there is magic. I know, I know. How the hell do you find magic in something that feels tragic?

The magic is something you have to create – and it lives within you! Most people get a cold and they think their world is crashing down, but not us! We deal with pain, stress, and anxiety every day but yet we continue to show up when most would not. We show up to life. We get out of our damn bed (most days) and still contribute to our families, our communities, and the world. We have a secret sauce, a strength that many cannot even imagine. If you ask me, that’s magic!

While you are not Houdini or Cinderella’s fairy godmother, you do possess something just as powerful (if not more so). You possess the unique ability to overcome obstacle after obstacle with sheer willpower. But there is more. There is your magic. The something special you have in your heart that makes you strong in the face of adversity. It gives you the power to look at each new challenge square in the eye and know that day by day, you will not let it overtake you. You will not be overcome.

It is time to celebrate this magic that lies within you! You are a warrior, a hero, a force of nature. You are pure magic.

finding magic

WelcomeWelcome to my site! This is my first “official” blog post 💗

I’ve created this space as a little nook for those of us struggling to find meaning in suffering, strength in weakness, joy in sorrow.

Living with chronic health issues can feel dark, lonely, and dare I say, tragic. But in that tragedy, there is magic. I know, I know. How the hell do you find magic in something that feels tragic?

The magic is something you have to create – and it lives within you! Most people get a cold and they think their world is crashing down, but not us! We deal with pain, stress, and anxiety every day but yet we continue to show up when most would not. We show up to life. We get out of our damn bed (most days) and still contribute to our families, our communities, and the world. We have a secret sauce, a strength that many cannot even imagine. If you ask me, that’s magic!

While you are not Houdini or Cinderella’s fairy godmother, you do possess something just as powerful (if not more so). You possess the unique ability to overcome obstacle after obstacle with sheer willpower. But there is more. There is your magic. The something special you have in your heart that makes you strong in the face of adversity. It gives you the power to look at each new challenge square in the eye and know that day by day, you will not let it overtake you. You will not be overcome.

It is time to celebrate this magic that lies within you! You are a warrior, a hero, a force of nature. You are pure magic.