Oy... Would You Like to Read an Overshare?

I'm often surprised since realizing how sick I've been/am to also realize how lucky I've been to feel as healthy as I have. Don't think I'm not thankful for it.

I've been reminded how thankful I should be over the last few days. We'll start with Thursday morning sometime around 4 a.m. That's when I realized I was awake. And I realized I had a migraine. A really bad migraine. I haven't had one of those in a while (thankful note: before going Paleo, they were happening about once a week. By the time I recovered from one migraine, I'd get another). I took my medicine after breakfast (thankful note: I know there are tons of migraine sufferers that would throw up at the thought of food. While it was a SMALL breakfast, I'm glad I could eat!) and went to work anyway.

That may not have been the best idea. Here's part one of oversharing. My medicine sometimes makes me sick. And this time it did. I threw up a little in my mouth shortly before lunch time. :( Yuckie. I went home after that. By then, my medicine had taken the edge off the pain, but I was still hurting. I drank some bone broth and ate some bacon when I got home because in this situation, if I don't eat, I will get even more sick. Side note: I have a feeling I'll have to be the forever snacking lady should I ever be pregnant. Anyway, I then laid down on the couch with my trusty heating pad on my neck and back and tried to nap. I was very unsuccessful. So I watched the first 3 Harry Potter movies and went to bed.

Part two of oversharing. There's only 2 parts, don't worry, but this is the super overshary part. I woke up the next day. Migraine gone, but migraine hangover in full effect (sore muscles, glassy eyes, very tired, minor headache. Kinda feels like having been beaten up by a ninja with a wooden club a few days prior.) Here it comes. I went to the bathroom. "Oh my god, that's not normal. I'm going to die." I had this thought. I won't go into it, but when I asked The Google what was happening, it said I wasn't going to die but I should go to the doctor because I probably had a UTI or bladder infection. I have never ever had either of these things. Chalk that into the thankful column as well please.

So I left a message at my doctor's office and went about my day. They were able to get me in at the end of the day. Through the day, my symptoms were less and less and I actually thought maybe I should cancel my appointment. But I decided that I would go, get a Rx for some antibiotics, try the home remedies The Google found for me, and if those didn't work, then I'd take the poison.

I've worked so hard to get my SIBO/gut dysbiosis under control (and I'm still not there yet) that the idea of taking antibiotics is really non thrilling to me and I'm trying my best to avoid it.

I get to the doctor's office, and give them a sample. I'm talking to the PA and telling her my symptoms. She's looking at me kinda like I'm growing a second head and I'm thinking to myself "oh come on lady, I know I'm not the first woman you've seen with this problem." Then she tells me my sample is negative. No bad guys in there at all. Hence the 2nd head growth stare. I have some mild symptoms of UTI/Bladder infection, but no infection. She decides however that because of the symptoms, and because I came in the same day they started, that it could just be too early for the test to detect anything and my planed course of action is most wise. Of course it is! This is me after all ;)

That means today I have to leave the house and interact with weekend shoppers to purchase home remedy stuff. That's a bummer because most weekend shoppers are: 1-decidedly not on a mission and 2-entirely unaware of their surroundings. I don't like weekend shoppers because I am always on a mission when shopping, and I'd really like for people to not be in my way. Missions should be accomplished as quickly and efficiently as possible, and people standing in the middle of the isle with their carts sideways staring at (but not seeing) the items on the shelf in front of them do not help accomplish missions.

The things I'll do for my health... My body better thank me, because my brain will not forgive me for a few days.

Thankful

I want to start out by saying, I won't talk about this. You and I feel the same way about it, and words are just not good enough.

I just got off the phone with my dad. As I've mentioned before, my Grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's (which she's all my life called Alltimers) a while back. She is progressing steadily down that road, and there's nothing we can do about it. The worst part about it is not that she's deteriorating (yes of course that's terrible in and of itself); it's the fact that she doesn't know it. In a way yes, that is a good thing. Who wants to know they're falling apart bit by bit? But when you don't know you're falling apart, you don't know you need help. Both my father and I have made mental notes to listen to our children should such a situation arise. If they say we need someone to come and check up on us then it must be true.

That situation has lead me back to how difficult it can be to accept that which you cannot change. No matter how much I know about health and nutrition (or how much I've relearned over these last several months!), at the end of the day, I cannot make my Grandma the person she was. This is hard to accept. No matter how much coconut oil I could try to shove down her throat, I cannot make her remember that she and my Grandfather have been divorced for decades now; his betrayal is not a new pain, but one she'd healed from long ago (she brings that situation up a lot). Or even make her use a cane, because she still insists she can get around just fine (she can't). She can't even hear me when we talk on the phone anymore, so now I don't call. However, she does not know the difference. I guess there are some small blessings mixed in. And for those small graces, I am thankful.

Which brings me back around to my health. Obviously, it is not perfect. Psoriasis. Psoriatic arthritis. Leaky gut. Migraines. Hair falling out. Gluten intolerance. A bad back/hip. IBS. Chronic anemia. Allergies. I have hives as I'm typing this because I reacted to something I ate last week. Have I missed anything? Probably. But I am thankful.

I am thankful.

I am thankful that after years of suffering from all of the above and more, I've found healing. I am thankful that because of my suffering, I learned more of what compassion is. (I need to work on being a more compassionate person, we all do.) I'm thankful that I don't suffer from migraines any longer. I'm thankful my fingers don't hurt when I type now. I'm thankful that my body is making enough hemoglobin, so now I don't get winded walking up the stairs. I'm thankful walking up those stairs doesn't involve feeling like my back and hip will break to pieces! I'm thankful that I don't have to carry around pink tabs and white pills or blue capsules, and that I don't have to worry I'll get sick after eating anymore. I'm thankful I can lift more than 10 pounds. A lot more!

I still have a long way to go, and I don't know that I'll ever be completely healed. That is something I'm learning to accept as well. And accepting that fact is not giving up on my healing (as has been suggested). I will never give up hope that I can put my autoimmunity into remission; I will never stop working towards that goal. But I am willing to accept that better is better than the same. That some damage cannot be undone. I look at where I've come from, and I look at where I am. It's night and day. So I am thankful.

I am thankful that I know what I now know. I'm thankful I've been able to introduce these things to my family. Maybe my father will never have to remember that mental note. Maybe my mom will not have to suffer through another cancer surgery. Maybe my mind, which is the thing I've always valued most about myself, will stick with me all the way until the end. Maybe we'll never live in fear about another heart attack. Maybe my last few months of life won't be spent in pain at the hospital (as was the case with my Mom's Mom). Maybe my (future) children won't feel uncomfortable in their own skin, the way I did for so much of my life.

This was supposed to be a Christmas post. So I guess my gift to myself is one of gratitude. That's a pretty awesome gift in my eyes!

Merry Christmas!