The flip side

I'd like to sit in my quagmire of anger and depression. Not sure why exactly. What the appeal of that is. Perhaps I feel entitled to a pity party for myself. Perhaps I just don't want to muster the strength it takes to reshape my thoughts. But whatever the case may be, there comes a moment when it is time for me to put on my big girl panties and get moving again.
Today, I physically can't. My body is reeking havoc on me, and mentally, it was a doozy of a day too. I just didn't want to go on. What was the point? But I have decided to look at the good that this illness has brought, because as much as I don't want to admit it, it has come with some decidedly good things.
First, it has brought our family together. Because I can't go anywhere without someone taking me, we have had to do a lot more as a family than we used to and this has already allowed for a couple of really good memories already. Because I can't drive, we have to go everywhere in one car, creating more family time with all four of us.
Secondly, in our marriage, it has reinforced the knowledge I had that Jason will stick by me through thick and thin. The man has been tender and loving and incredibly supportive and I know he loves me unconditionally.

Thirdly, we have reached our family medical deductible so all medical expenses from here on out are fully covered, LOL!! No more stress in that regard :-).
Fourthly, I have learned to cherish the little moments I get with the kids. Instead of stressing about getting them to bed, getting the dishes done, etc, Jason gets to stress about that (just kidding), and I get to value the few minutes I get to snuggle with them in bed, to stroke their faces and let them know how much they mean to me.
Fifthly, (and I struggle with this blessing still), this illness is teaching me to look at my life, keep what is important, uplifting and wholesome and get rid of the activities and relationships that didn't need to be there. I struggle with this one daily because I like things to be "normal" and when the apple cart gets upset, it is challenging for me put back the pieces, but good definitely does not mean painless, so this one goes on my "good" list.
Sixthly, past friends have come out of the woodwork and old friendships have been renewed. Blessings that were there all along, but just hiding around the corner.
Seventhly, my larger family, as in my sisters, brothers and parents, has show way more support than I would have ever deemed possible! I have been very loved and supported.
I could go on, but my body's getting mad at me for sitting up for so long so I must go lay down. Until next time :-).

DABDA

In one of my college courses, I learned the acronym for the five stages of grief: DABDA. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.  Currently, I sit at the first A. Anger. I am mad as a hornet right now. My denial stage ended Tuesday of this week when I tried to scale back on my meds, hoping that all of this would have just been a fluke, a bi-product of the antidepressants I had been taking or something. I cut back by only a third and that night I was convulsing again. Stubborn as hell, I decided "FINE! I'll take the meds but I'll be damned if I sit back and let this illness take over my life!" I took the bus. I walked in the heat. I went to coffee. I made dinner. Next day, my legs didn't want to work, but I forced it and went to farmers market, then to coffee with a friend. I pushed and pushed and pushed because I was NOT going to sit back and accept my limitations! A few minutes ago, I had several major convulsions, like the ones I had before I ended up in the hospital. The kids had to call Jason home from work and I am pissed as hell!
I missed my daughter's field trip last week, the first of my kids’ field trip I'd ever missed. James has had an incredibly poor school year because I've been so messed up with one thing or another that I haven't taken the time to figure out what's going on in his classroom and now I look back over the year and CRAP! What a mess! These stupid convulsions have taken away my ability to drive and therefore to shop by myself, or even drive around to blow off steam. I've lost friendships because the only thing that was keeping them alive was my ability to drive and now that I can't, they have fizzled into a shell of nothingness. Because I physically can't handle the demands of clothing at citp, I have left that role and the hours of social contact it was giving me, not to mention the self-esteem boost of being in a position of leadership. Yes, I do see how God is using all of these things to refine me, to point out my flaws and make me a better person, but it definitely isn't pleasant! I feel so out of control and mad, mad, mad!!! The crazy part is, what difference does all this anger make? None whatsoever. Absolutely none at all. And I despise anger with a passion! I hate the feel of it. I hate the sound of it. I hate the existence of it. I wish there were some miraculous pill they could give to take all that anger away. I can understand the appeal of drinking and drugs now, the ability to forget, to deaden the pain just for a little while. However, one of the things I also learned in college, along with the DABDA acronym, is that if a person does not work through the stages, they will get stuck somewhere in them. Sometimes people get stuck at that anger stage their entire lives, but I'm determined that I will not fit into that statistic and instead will look forward to the day when I reach the final A of acceptance.

Medical update

I have so many blog posts floating around in my head, but I'm either too busy or too exhausted to post them most days. Today, I thought I'd update what we know medically, since that's what I seem to get the most questions about. Some of this may be duplicate posting because I can't remember what I have posted already and what I have only thought about posting and I don't feel like reading back over my older posts to find out :-).
Currently, I am taking medication that keeps my convulsions under control, so I am no longer struggling with that aspect of the illness. I do have tremors at times, and get easily exhausted, but seem to be doing physically better and better. Emotionally, I'm struggling. Some days are better than others. I'm not sure how much of that has to do with my illness and how much of it has to do with the myriad of other things that have seemed to all hit at the same time, but I try to remember that this too will get better. One way or another, it will get better. As I peel each piece of the emotional onion away, eventually the pain will be gone and there will be victory and confidence in its place. Baby steps.
Back to the physical part of my life. One of the possible culprits we are looking at for my symptoms is MS. There are 3 tests that typically determine whether a person has MS or not. I've had all three, but am waiting for some of the results back. The MRI says I might have MS. So far, the results that have come back from the spinal tap (they come trickling in, every couple of days) are all negative for MS indicators, meaning my levels are normal in all areas tested so far. The third test is the Visual Evoked Potential. I had that done in Sacramento on Monday and do not have the results back yet.
I have an appointment with my neurologist on Wednesday the 16th to discuss whatever the results may be. If the VEP is negative for MS, I have no idea what our next step is. She wouldn't say last time I was in the office. She just said "Let's wait and see what the tests show." So we are waiting and looking forward to seeing :-).

At the cross

Today, I'm going to set the stage for a future post, because I know that for me, if blog posts are longer than a page or two, I say "forget it" and never read them, so I'm cutting this one up so you'll actually read it :-).
Four weeks ago, I went to Church in the Park in a wheelchair. My convulsions had gotten pretty bad by that point and I was regularly losing the use of my legs, hence the need for the wheelchair. During that time, if a convulsion was about to come on, I would get an "aura" of sorts, warning me of what was to come, and I could lay down and get into a safe position before my body decided to take on a mind of its own. That Sunday, I had sat through the service and someone brought me lunch so I didn't have to go through the line. I was sitting in the back, near the sound table. People were lined up within a few feet of us, waiting to get their food when I felt the "aura". I told Jason and Sonja who were standing next to me to get me out of there because with 200 people standing around, I knew someone was bound to call the medics whether we asked them to or not and the last thing Church in the Park needed was an ambulance trying to squeeze its way into the parking lot at lunch time. The problem was, I knew I only had about a minute before I couldn't control my body anymore and when Sonja turned the chair to get me out of there, she headed TOWARD the line of people. I knew there was no way we would make it past everyone before our time ran out, so I yelled at her "No! The Cross! Take me to the Cross!" She whipped the wheelchair around and headed down the hill, away from the crowd. We made it to the foot of CITP's portable cross right as my convulsion hit and I lay in the mud (it had been raining all week) until my convulsions stopped long enough to get me into the car and on my way home.
I didn't think much of the significance of what had happened until days later, when life got even more difficult and the reality of my illness hit home. I now had a vivid image in my brain of Sonja dumping me at the foot of the cross, and when the fear and the anger and the pain of my situation all rained down on me at once, I was reminded that I had been dumped at the foot of His cross and that the blood that He shed while upon that cross covered me utterly and completely. Even though that particular cross meant nothing in and of itself, the symbolism of it helped remind me of where I lay, each and every day, at the foot of the cross of the One Who gave His life for me.