My Hindsight Is 20/20

When I first started this blog six years ago I was terrified. I felt like my whole body was failing on many levels all of a sudden and I didn't know why. Feeling like I had no control over what my body was doing was very scary. 

Looking back I can see little threads of struggles all through my life.

I was a very tired kid. I had serious sleeping disorders. Nocturnal panic attacks, sleep walking and talking. I fell asleep at school frequently only to be woken up by an annoyed teacher. I always had "growing pains" in my legs where my legs would just ache for no reason. My mom even took me to the pediatrician for pain in my legs. I remember it being dismissed as "growing pains" (which are not a "thing" anymore thank God.)

My back hurt almost all the time. When I would be roller-skating with my best friend (a favorite activity of mine) I would need to take breaks and she would rub my back for me. It was one of those things you don't know is abnormal because it's all you've ever known. Looking back now I see red flag after red flag that I had some kind of health issues happening.

As I grew so did my strange health symptoms. I had endometriosis so severe that I had five laparoscopic procedures to remove abnormal tissue by knife and laser. It grew on my bowels, bladder, intestines, uterus, ovaries, pretty much everywhere it wasn't supposed to be, causing me incredible amounts of pain. Now we know so much more about it and what a serious disease it is for women. But back then the male ER doctor just smirked at me insisting I had an abortion when I wasn't even sexually active. 

My thyroid failed, then my gallbladder. I had mysterious Fatty Liver Disease and just felt tired and drained all the time. I struggled to live a normal life and work 9-5. My physical stamina was never the best.

My one child was diagnosed with Autism very young. Researchers now know that women with autoimmune diseases are much more likely to have Autistic children. 

I had many moments before any official diagnosis or my brain tumor where I just felt like "I can't do this anymore. I can't go to this (class, job, meeting, coffee...) I'm just too exhausted." I'm not sure that's actually normal.

This was all before the TB. Before the craniotomy. Before I needed any mobility device. So was this just a sneaky genetic malfunction that has always been with me? Or did my propensity to health challenges hurtle me down a spiral of worsening issues? It's interesting to look back and follow the threads. Regardless of the causes, to me it looks like one massive web.

Embracing Change (or not)

Over the last eight years or so I was bit by the gardening bug. It started off with just a few tomato plants crammed into a little spot I cut out in our front yard lawn and grew to a huge garden where our front yard lawn used to be. Gardening brings me a lot of pleasure. It connects me to nature and makes me a better person. How? By reminding me that everything has its own time and patience is vital to survival.

During the last 3 years gardening has become harder and harder for me. I'd love to be the lady you see in the arthritis commercials who pops a few Aspirin and runs out to pull weeds for hours. But my body just won't cooperate. My stamina is crud, my hand strength is minimal and now with the Plaquenil I can't be in the sun. Dang!

My garden in 2014

This is how my garden used to look. Ordered, planned, structured with just a HINT of wild. And this is how it looks 4 years later...

My garden today - April 26th, 2018

This is mostly lettuce that we've been enjoying.

It bolted very fast!

I've cried a lot about my garden. I know that sounds lame, but it's very frustrating for me not to be able to do all the things in it that I have in my head (or that I used to do. ) When I was being treated for Latent TB I'd try and garden like I used to and I'd end up vomiting every time. I'd push myself way too hard. Even though that doesn't happen anymore, tears aren't much better.

Apparently I still have a lot to learn about "patience" from my garden. Now she's turning into a wild space. I was looking out the window this morning thinking how beautiful it is. It's not "structured" like it used to be and I'm still frustrated that I can't do all the things I want to do with it, but it's beautiful and full of life.

That's a bit how I feel about myself right now. I can't do all the things I want to do, or how I used to do them. I'm learning a new kind of living and a new kind of beauty in life. It's not easy. Not at all. And I'm sure I'll still have moments of crying. But I see that it's also important for me to sit back, drink my coffee and notice the good changes too. Just like my wild garden.