When you are afraid of everything

Every once in awhile I emerge from the fog of battling serious, ongoing illness and realize that the way I view the world is not the same as that of others around me. I am often afraid of everything!

Folks are dressing up for special Christmas celebrations and with it comes perfumes, colognes, hair spray, and lots of pretty/smelly stuff. I just practice what I call a “virtual hug” during greetings and keep my distance from any close contact where something might rub off on me. It’s awkward but works better than being triggered.

Venture out to a social gathering and I’ll wonder what particulate matter rests in both the upholstered seat upon which I am sitting or the coat that the person next to me is wearing. The mycotoxins from mold persist forever and easily transfer from one cloth surface to another. How many of us have our winter coats dry cleaned each year or launder them? Our vehicles and outerwear can carry with them the toxins from anywhere we have visited in the past. Some items simply cannot be cleaned of these toxins. And even if they can be cleaned, who else but another “mold avoider” uses anti-fungal agents like we do when washing clothing? Or tosses coats in the dryer under the sanitize cycle before putting them back into the closet or wearing them again? Probably nobody I know!

We brought a nasty scent home with us inside our new-to-us truck, from a recent trip. The sour smell is from a water-damaged building where any contact has the potential to trigger a violent convulsive episode. Maybe this low level of exposure that remains will somehow de-sensitize me to this type of mold? Yeah, right. The portable ozone machine that we really can’t afford right now, came in the mail from Amazon today. I’m going to try to zap that stinky smell out of there soon and hope that the remaining fragrance in there from the dealership goes with it. Cleaning, vacuuming, essential oils, charcoal packs, or baking soda haven’t worked on the latter. Driving with the window slightly open hasn’t been enough to ward off fatigue and the risk of pre-tic symptoms when I am in there. I need to drive to medical appointments. We will fix this soon, Lord willing.

Sharp, loud noises have become an instant trigger again and quite a nuisance. Twice in the past 10 days, my husband initiated an innocent action that resulted in a high-pitched, short, loud “olfactory stimulus.” Immediately I felt my ear drum move inward and a convulsive episode ramped up quickly thereafter. These are really bad. One happened last weekend as I was riding home with my beloved from a sweet date viewing Christmas lights, listening to music on the radio coordinated with each display. I could barely open my eyes for the last display as the head-banging had not yet subsided; my biggest fear was that the hand I struggled to push near my head wouldn’t adequately stabilize the wrenching of my head/neck. Steve fed me a rescue remedy when we got home while I still sat in the frigid air on the passenger seat of our truck. My left leg dragged as he was eventually able to guide me into the house (with me struggling yet determined to try and walk under my own power and not be carried). We removed my outer layers of clothing in case the scent of the truck was on them; I crashed into bed and slept for over four hours. I woke up in the middle of the night very hungry, ate a very late dinner of sorts, and was not able to sleep again until after sunrise. The new day was trashed. We had already cancelled attending the Holiday Pops concert downtown to avoid loud music. But I love Christmas decorations and music! This really sucks man.

Everywhere from public restrooms to the open door of a neighbor’s home exudes air fresheners these days. A package of new neighbor was accidentally delivered to our home so I thought, neat, I’ll take it over and get to meet them. A waif of something fragrant washed over me as soon as the sweet gal opened the door; “c’mon in!” she offered in a friendly tone. A quick, I can’t due to sensitivities nearly killed that friendly encounter. Fortunately the late fall day was a little milder and she didn’t mind chatting on her front entryway outside of her home. Sigh.

I would LOVE to invite all of our new neighbors over to get acquainted later this Winter. We did this very thing with our neighbors before I got sick and it was a sweet time of fellowship. FOUR of the eight homeowners have turned over in our neighborhood court in which we live. Someone needs to organize a get-together and I wish it could be me and my hubby! I simply cannot do that. I’ll have to wait until the warmer weather comes and we can sit outside on our patio. I guess that’s alright too . . . five months from now when the weather thaws and warms.

We still practice a relatively high level of extreme avoidance that is getting OLD after all these years. Perhaps progress on treating a particular type of sinus infection will reduce my sensitivities. Let’s repair that blood-brain barrier already! I am grateful that I can finally treat the chronic MARCoNS infection that is characteristic of biotoxin illness. This makes me hopeful that maybe more than the olfactory cranial nerves will heal as well. Over time, of course. More time. The trigeminal nerve that gives rise to TMJ pain and had triggered episodes has already healed quite a bit with my specialized dental appliances from a craniomandibular specialist.

These are only a few of the examples of how chemical sensitivity, mold sensitivity, Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome (CIRS) play out in a person’s life. Gene expression gets turned on for persons with particular HLA types for mold illness, contributing to abnormal responses to everyday sensory stimuli. Turning it off or lowering it requires removal and avoidance of triggers, various types of testing (home/work/school environment then specific lab testing), dietary changes, and a hierarchy of expensive treatment protocols. I am grateful that not only am I able to tolerate a complex combination of nasal treatments, there are fewer food triggers of symptoms now than in the past. Some of the labs used to diagnose CIRS have normalized or are only slightly elevated. My local Functional Medicine Doctor versed in these protocols will re-test me for MARCoNs early next year. I am hopeful that I can finally clear this infection; the sinus headaches have already subsided. (This Doc is so very nice to me as well! Love that!) The laundry list of other medical conditions that has come alongside this nightmare are not nearly as disabling as CIRS. I never lose hope that many can get better or even be cured this side of heaven, Lord willing.

When you are afraid of everything, it is really really hard to want to try new things, meet new people, or go to new places. My confidence in virtually every aspect of living has suffered. Expertise, proficiency, and tolerance for the work environment of my profession of occupational therapy have eroded and I am not sure that I will ever be able to get it back (or even tolerate working with all of the potential exposures of a clinical setting). Indeed I have developed new skills during this period of time and you are reading one of them right now. I am grateful to have designed several websites and am the editor/assistant editor of 2 publications. Medical research has become a necessary pursuit. These are worth something I suppose and can be done in the middle of the night when needed. Gardening has sustained me throughout these 8 years of battling a serious illness and 6 of them with biotoxin illness in particular. Sometimes I am taking care of our yard or a public rain garden after dark when I feel better but hey, that’s what flashlights are for, right?

Perhaps I need to re-read John Maxwell’s book entitled, Failing Forward. While this time in my life is not my failure per se, the effect of repeated trials and traumas is very similar. Better pull it out again. In life, the opposite of fear is courage and perseverance is a requirement to succeed thereafter. Somehow I do although this has been one of my greatest challenges when feeling like a beaten puppy. Further, some would say that the opposite of fear is love as in the perfect love that comes only from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. For if we truly know His love then nothing in this world can separate us from it, including the powerful tool of fear, fear of failure, fear that things will not change, fear that we are alone to suffer, and so on. The truth is that those in Christ will never again be alone, the same again, or away from the Divine plan and purpose He has for our lives. Knowing this truth brings not only courage to go on but hope. And my Jesus’ love and care has helped me move forward to even get to this day, to think that one day even if it’s in heaven, all will be made new, right, and good. That’s the kind of love in action that obliterates fear.

Sigh. I’m tired tonight. The shingles is healing. Some medical questions are now answered resulting in closing some doors and leaving others precariously open. I’ll need to meditate on these topics some more. Still, I think I have a better perspective, more hope than when I started writing to you, Gentle Reader. Do you deal with fear too? JJ

An Involuntary Adventure into a Type of Retirement

Cara Brown, BMR (OT), MSc* recently studied the role of occupational therapy practitioners in enhancing the quality of life for people in work-cessation transitions.  She was particularly interested in folks like me who made this transition when not of traditional retirement age.  Although I am still not convinced that my working days are over, I felt compelled to introduce my own involuntary adventure into a “type” of retirement.  My letter follows:

Thank you for your recent article in AJOT on Expanding the Occupational Therapy Role to Support Transitions from Work to Retirement for People with Progressive Health Conditions.**  I found it useful and respectful of persons facing both situations in life.  There may be another category to consider:  those with sudden loss of work roles who enter into “retirement.”

I am an Occupational Therapist who worked over 30 years before entering into this latter category within one night:  October 11, 2011!  I continued to work part time for a short time then decreased my hours to a few home health visits per week.  When it became clear that the onset of a serious illness made it a struggle to focus on the needs of my patients and direct the care of our Occupational Therapy Assistants, I had to stop working altogether.  My last day of paid employment was February 2, 2012.  I spent the next 2 years being my own OT by researching my condition and seeking various medical and alternative health interventions.  Energy conservation and work simplification were my way of life.  Returning to work was always my intention.

It is now 7 years since the onset of a biotoxin illness and numerous other medical conditions that continue to restrict my ability to function.  It took me those first 2 years to realize that the daily convulsive episodes and other illness factors were not going away any time soon; just the orthopedic injuries and deconditioning made it difficult to care for my activities of daily living.  Several times per week I needed to be carried to the bathroom, assisted with bathing after the worst of those episodes.  I developed, by the grace of God, dozens of new coping strategies (e.g. making my breakfast the night before and putting it bedside in a lunch bag in case I couldn’t get out of bed in the morning).  Still, I missed working.  I started making jewelry in the middle of the night and selling them online to keep my brain stimulated and some adaptive role involvement going since I was up all night long anyways.  It was the only way to avoid more seizure attacks.  My life was upside down in many ways for sure.

It took me weeks not days to eventually sell my jewelry business and start to develop a professional website akin to my occupational therapy practice in home health.  I designed a bathroom safety product and began to develop the concept while networking within every aspect of this new venture hoping it would be a transitional activity  back into practice.  In doing so, I could monitor my activity level, continue to challenge my brain, learn new computer and marketing skills, and get excited that what I had learned when off of work was not “wasted.”  After about a year in this new direction, I had to stop.  Things got even worse before they got better.  The convulsive episodes progressed, aggressive treatment took its toll, and just caring for my basic needs was all I could do.  My spirit was crushed.  That was 2016.  By the end of the year I was hospitalized with shingles.  The stress was unbelievable and my body was breaking down further.  I changed the focus of Two Step Solutions several times; my personal blog (www.justjuliewrites.com) tells the medical and emotional story.  Gee, I did learn how to blog and design simple websites (and helped 2 others with theirs)!

But my personal financial resources in addition to my physical and emotional resources (of which you mention in your article) were gone.  The isolation was staggering even with a plethora of online support groups and a Prayer Group I started with two other largely home-bound gals.  Eventually some specialized care funded, in part by a Go Fund Me campaign and an unexpected tax refund, improved my condition enough to start some volunteer work this past year.  I hoped that the volunteer work could progress to part time employment whether within or outside the field of occupational therapy but later in the Fall my health started to slide again and new medical conditions emerged that required my energies, my attention such as it remained!  I needed to keep things low key despite any “goals” I continued to set every morning, 7 years later.

The underlying message to sharing my story with you is to express the extreme difficulty I had as an Occupational Therapist to go through all of this who not only loved her profession but loved OCCUPATION.  Every day when I got out of bed since college, I set goals.  This continued through my time of disability.  The items on the list got fewer as time went on and the complications, unpredictability of complex illness continued.  I never stopped trying to find solutions for either the medical conditions or functional limitations posed by them.  If I needed to wear a charcoal mask in public to be able to shop at the grocery store then so be it.  If I needed to sit in my vehicle to rest or in the cafe of a store pretending everything was o.k., I did so.  I never felt ashamed to be online instead of in-person meeting people; genuine friendships came from meeting fellow bloggers with whom I have now met or “Skyped.”  

Dear Cara, I hope that you will keep seeking to understand the role of occupation in the lives of person with not only progressive but sudden, serious medical conditions or traumatic accidents.  Perhaps the cancer literature has studies to further your investigation as many cancer survivors do return to productive lives.  And note as you go along that there are tens of thousands of folks like me out there just hoping for the opportunity to do the same; we just don’t know if that will be our outcome . . . yet!  In the meantime, I am not giving up.  If I did not have my faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ, I would have done so by now.  Not even my drive for meaningful occupation can come close to keeping me going as knowing my future is secure in eternity because of my faith (regardless of the simplicity, setbacks, and sometimes messiness of my daily life). I submit to you that those facing progressive and sudden loss of primary occupations will require assurance from the Creator God to ultimately succeed in this involuntary type of retirement. 

Godspeed lady in life and in your work,

Julie (MS, OTR/L)

Advanced Master Gardener

Editor and Asst Editor of 2 Publications

*Instructor and PhD Candidate, Department of Occupational Therapy, College of Rehabilitation Sciences, University of Manitoba, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

**American Journal of Occupational Therapy, November/December 2018, Vol 72/No 6, p 347010

What becomes normal

Truly none of us are normal deep down inside.  We all have our crazy stuff, some more than others of course (myself included!).  Better for most of that stuff to stay buried you say?  Maybe so.  Then again, why ever lose hope for becoming more whole, getting well?

For some of us, we don’t get to choose what will be normal for us and our loved ones.  This is particularly true when someone gets sick or suffers a serious accident affecting them for say, 6 months or longer.  After 6 months the healthcare profession changes your status from acute to chronic.  By then the “normal” way of life has broken down and often looks a lot different than before the event.  Expectations can change for the future; often people look at you or treat you differently as well affecting many, many relationships.

When living with a serious, ongoing illness or disability, new norms for life get set in motion and become habit.  At some point we have to adapt to the changes in routines, levels of functioning, finances, symptoms, emotions, social dynamics, recreation, work, and more.  If we don’t adapt then we would spend incredible amounts of energy and resources repeatedly trying to figure out how to cope with the changes.  Instead, new daily activities get strung together as new habits, eventually become routines and may even become a new identity as they combine into roles such as “patient,” or “caregiver.”  The phrase, “new normal” comes to mind when such profound changes affect both our lives and the persons around us every day.

We don’t necessarily like where we have landed when it is undesirable.  Sometimes we can’t change things for awhile; other times the changes become permanent.  We do have to make a choice about how we cope with all of it emotionally and in our thought processes including our self-talk.  Will we be angry or find peace perhaps in the promises of our Lord, Jesus Christ?  Will we give up or keep seeking for answers to aid our recovery?   Who will we blame for our lot in life at any given moment?  Acceptance may come or it may never arrive on our doorstep.  However, some semblance of acceptance is key for moving forward.

The process for me in finding a new normal has occurred slowly over 5 years of battling a serious illness.  If I were to summarize the 3 tests noted above of adaptation, emotional adjustment, and thought processes I would admit that I do not like most of the current outcomes.  I don’t like the myriad of mold and chemical-avoidance strategies that everyone in our home must complete every day to minimize triggering a seizure attack episode for me.  But we do them anyways.  I used to cry just about every day and now it’s much less, mostly when discouraged by roadblocks in my care. But I keep searching anyways for answers.  Lastly, I don’t and have never doubted that these daily wretched episodes have a biological (NOT psychological) cause that can be treated.  So I use the tools I have to help myself get well.  I don’t know when or how or why the episodes will stop.  I do believe that one day they will stop completely.

And when the seizures stop I will embrace a new normal.  Things won’t be the same as they were 5 years ago when I was working as an occupational therapist in home health care.  My physical frame is weaker and injured from all of the physical trauma and I’m not sure how much I can get back.  I will try, however!  I can no longer attend our church, contributing to the loss of many relationships that were just getting started when I got sick.  Travelling is restricted to camping in the Tin Can Ranch (on wheels!) for the foreseeable future.  On the flipside, a few positive outcomes include having tremendously increased my computer skills, renewed my interest in entrepreneurship, and desire to support my husband’s growing paddling dealership.  Being his helpmate has given me purpose on my sickest days when making his lunch when I am awake in the middle of the night was all I could do for my Stevers.

What becomes unpleasantly “normal” may not have to stay that way forever (and usually doesn’t).  Those of us who learn to trust in the plan that the Lord has for our lives may find it easier to accept the changes when they come.  We let the Holy Spirit guide us, comfort us along the way.  We keep our eyes fixed on Christ and our hearts and minds soaking up His Word.  We are then better able to let go of wanting things to be as they were and are better ready to grow into the possibilities of a more meaningful, maybe even more fun, tomorrow.  I never thought I would be the Assistant Editor of a national canoe and kayaking magazine nor blog or help an artist friend complete her website.  I just did what I could with what I had, where I was (as Theodore Roosevelt once said) and have landed in a better place in many ways.   Better yet, I trusted in knowing:

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

You will be the first to know about those plans for sure, Gentle Reader.  We have come a long way together, you and me.  I thank you for sharing my journey.  Feel free to share your thoughts about the “normal.”  We are going to be alright no matter which side of the spectrum we are on, eh?  JJ

After TriAdventure Race
Steve and I celebrate his team win at the 2010 Maumee Tri Adventure Race

Slow But Sure

What will it feel like to be almost normal again?

Will the days fill with meaning, the nights rest with pleasure?

Alas I know not what tomorrow will bring —

So it’s it will be in the smaller moments that I will define who I am, who I will be.

At least as long as it is up to me . . . and little is of course . . .

*****************

An important decision came to me today that surprised me.  Oh there were the impossible ones that came in the hours beforehand which could be the subject of a tragic drama-blog here (ie. how to handle the seizure attacks overnight, sleep deprivation, heavy burdens, pain) but all that changed when I was catapulted awake at 8:17 a.m.  Could I make it to that appointment after all to the eye doctor?  They didn’t really cancel my appointment from that frantic message I left at 4:57 in the morning did they?  Well I was about to find out!

I pulled on some clothes; rushed back and forth throughout our humble abode; threw together the records, food, and drink I had loosely assembled the night before; and was practically out the door before my hubby emerged from shaving in the bathroom!  I’ll call the office on the way, I thought to myself.  And lucky for me my appointment time was still open for 8:45 a.m.  Holy cow.

Lord only knows how I function on days like these.  The headache pressed sharply into my skull with the plethora of medical testing and related tasks that fill my very full (medical) “work days” lately.  (That is a story for another time!)  Diarrhea delayed the first few steps of my eye exam as the technicians escorted me to rooms with various equipment, administered those dilating drops, etc.  So now my vision had become as blurry as my mental status.  Neat huh?  Sish.  Soon it was time to make some decisions about contact lenses and the potential replacement of eyeglasses.  Three years had passed since my last exam.  Clearly vision care has not been my priority of late!

I don’t even know her name yet her face will be memorable for many weeks to come.  The Optician in the big room with all those designer frames was an older lady with exquisite taste, professional temperament, mastery of her craft.  She quickly knew that I would benefit from some coaching in my selections and did so with style and grace.  I liked her eyeglasses, Silhouettes she called them, and decided it could be a new style that would work for me.  But was I ready for it?  Suddenly I realized that I was deciding about more than a functional facial dressing . . . no, I was crafting what presentation did I really want to make with my eyes, my facial expression to the world these days?

Makeup doesn’t work for me most of the time.  I do keep my hair colored and trimmed fairly regularly, styled about half of the time.  My clothing is rather casual favoring comfort not the fashion trends of the last decade.  Rarely do I adorn jewelry even though I had my own business making and selling colorful macramé jewelry for almost 3 years. My face has aged considerably.  The summer tan has faded.  I no longer wear contact lenses which used to give others direct visual access to my eyes, my soul.  My current eyeglasses with red and black frames are my only adornment, providing a little bit of covering behind which I can hide.

Soon I excused myself to the bathroom yet another time for a little moment of reflection.  Would I choose a new style behind which to mask my true self a little longer?  Yes it really does feel like that.  Would it be frames where the focus is on the shiny rhinestones or metallic finishes instead of the tender woman peering out from behind them?  Only after a few tears later did my choice become clear.  I selected the ones like those my teacher was wearing today.  Kind of like I did with Mrs. Heitkamp back in the 5th grade.  (Oh how I loved her so!)

Far be it from me to miss a moment where I can slowly but surely find a little extra meaning in what is happening and move forward too.  I really do want to be well some day and by golly I hope that my attention to the little things will help me to get ready for that day.  It’s just a pair of eyeglasses right?  Maybe so.  Behind them this time will be a little more of me and a little less of something else blocking the view of the woman inside coming back into view.

1 Peter 3:3-4 New International Version (NIV)

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

If you are in a battle right now too, Gentle Reader, please do not lose hope.  Please don’t hide.  Our Lord Jesus Christ yearns for fellowship with each of us as He dresses the heart, infuses the spirit, loves the broken, and leads us to His throne of grace full of splendor beyond compare.  We are beautiful in His sight!  One day I pray that we will see these truths ever so clearly as the pains of this world give way to His richest glory forevermore.

And for that we are definitely going to need sunglasses, eh?  JJ

sunglasses, hiding, worth in Christ, Christian, woman, identity, self worth, self esteem, illness, disability, overcoming, recovery, getting well

 

 

 

 

When the healing comes

Sure has been a wild ride of late.  Here’s a treatment update.

After almost 4 months of treatment, I have improved 28 points on the Multiple Systemic Infectious Disease Syndrome Questionnaire of Lyme Literate Medical Doctor (LLMD), Dr. Richard Horowitz!  Thank you Jesus.

Lord willing, later this week I will transition from IV infusions of antibiotics from an outpatient clinic to home health care.  Our insurance company denied treatment beyond 28 days, leaving us with a massive bill if my secondary insurance will not cover ongoing treatment.  Since it will take several weeks to find out the verdict, we cannot keep paying $900 per treatment, 3 times per week while we wait!  Hiring nurses (from a home health care agency and one in private practice) on a private pay basis plus ordering supplies and medications online will reduce the price to around $300 per visit.  Planning this transition has required considerable time, stress, attention to endless details, and work!  The orders are in process with many steps to follow in the next 2 1/2 days.  A LOT HAS HAPPENED IN THE PAST 5 DAYS to make this happen.  Thank you, Lord, that my brain has come back online just in time.  Whew!

I just found out that DNA testing from Fry Labs shows that I do have the FL 1953 protomyxzoa rheumatica (a fungal infection) that can be found in 50% of patients with chronic illness.  This parasite survives in the body in the impervious gel-like biofilms that also make Lyme bacteria difficult to eradicate.  My LLMD has recommended a combination antifungal (prescription) and biofilm-busting (nutraceutical) protocol that he says could render me very sick for a minimum of 4-5 weeks.  Most patients have tremendous recovery thereafter; gratefully I am hoping that the binding agents I have discovered will be an effective adjunct to this treatment plan and reduce the die-off or “herx” reactions.  Steve and I are prayerfully considering how to proceed as we were hoping to visit family for an important event out-of-State in a few weeks now that I am “not as bad.”  Please pray too!  I am soooooo ready to start living again!

Working with a brilliant naturopathic physician via Skype to review my epigenetic data, lab tests to date and medical/treatment history has finally led to some nutraceuticals that I can actually tolerate.  Soon I hope to add specifically formulated IV and injectable nutritionals to the home infusions (instead of driving to a clinic we were considering far from home twice per month).  And the excitability of my central nervous system is starting to come down at last:  generally fewer and shorter convulsive episodes every day for the past 2 weeks.  This has not happened in the past 4 1/2 years until now!  PRAISE THE LORD!  Experimentation with an Iodine Loading Protocol has further enhanced my results.  I have to think that I am on the road to recovery at last . . .

Steve and I are encouraged, humbled, grateful, and watchful as the events of these past few weeks have unfolded.  I have been able to get out for a walk once per week and work in the gardens around our home some.  Some of the pain and headaches that I battle every day have improved; I don’t really complain when it’s related to digging in the dirt as the sun is going down . . . I feel blessed to have had the friendship and support of a couple of friends here for rides to-and-from the hospital for treatments lately too.  And we are starting to plan some of the activities again that we used to take for granted in the past:  think Steve’s kayak races, the Tin Can Ranch (travel trailer), and the pup in tow as well.

When the healing comes by Lisa Bevill

Enjoy this lovely song that reflects the hope that is becoming clearer for me.  I hope that if you are struggling, you will lean on the Lord, Jesus Christ to see you through and keep your eyes on the goal what ever that may be for you.  He knows and loves you, cares for the desires of your heart too, Gentle Reader.  There are sprinkles of His goodness all around us no matter what the circumstances.  Let not the first time we recognize this as only when the healing comes.  Let today, this moment be a reminder that the waiting, the “pressing on” as Lisa sings, is an important part of the journey too.  Praying for you this night.  JJ