run. pray. - Grieve & Then Soar
Let me start with a quick recap:
About five years ago, I started having chronic lower back and hip pain. Last year, it was at it's worst. There were days I could hardly walk. I blamed it on exercise and my running form (which definitely didn't help at all). After several years of chiropractic care, several visits to an orthopedic doctor and sports orthopedic doctor, physical therapy, massage therapy, and a running coach, things started to look up. I was having minimal pain in my lower back and hips for awhile - until it started again (much less invasive pain this time around). Without the help of my chiropractor and running coach, I wouldn't be running today. To them, I owe my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude.
I promise I'm going somewhere with all this gibber jabber...
For those of you who have been reading from the beginning, you know the past twelve months have not been the healthiest twelve months of my life. Last March, I was lucky enough to experience both strains of the flu, 4 or 5 sinus infections, and chronic fatigue. After numerous visits to my doctor's office, he referred me to a immunologist. After a billion tests, I didn't get too many answers. I found out I'm allergic to dust mites, had resistant bacteria in my nose, chronic sinusitis, and my immune system was shot, non-existent. My immunologist is amazing and got me fixed right up with the proper antibiotics and a pneumonia vaccine. I started feeling like myself again, and I thought I was in the clear.
From August to about mid-October, I was on the up and up. Everything was under control - until it wasn't. Chronic fatigue, more sinus infections, chronic nausea, low back and hip pain, major (and quite disgusting) intestinal/digestive/bowel issues, chronic abdominal pain, crazy emotions, terrible anxiety, excruciating menstrual cramps and ovulation, and other weird and worrisome issues that would be way TMI. Back to the doctors. After several visits and tests, my emotional, anxiety ridden self was diagnosed with endometriosis. Finally, there was an answer. I wasn't losing my mind. I'm not a hypochondriac. I never thought I'd be happy to "have something." Which, don't get me wrong, I'd rather not "have" anything, but at least now I know there's a cause to my angst and misery, and I wasn't just a wuss imagining these things happening in my body.
For those of you who have never heard of endometriosis, endometriosis is characterized by the presence of endometrial-like tissue located outside the womb, where it doesn’t belong. Endometriosis is, in fact, “a wound so profound and primal in nature it has the potential for pervading and negatively impacting every aspect of an individual’s life – and the life of those who care for that person; from the ability to go about a normal routine, to intimate engagement in an enjoyable sex life, to the ability to control reproductive choices.” (CEC) (taken from the Endometriosis Research Center's website).
If you're still with me, thanks for hanging in there, for being patient, and for reading. I've contemplated for some time now whether or not I wanted to write about this and share it with the world wide web. I've joined an online support group and have been researching the disease more and more. March is endometriosis awareness month and after speaking with several women I've learned this disease is widespread and many women suffer from it. It isn't talked about in public forums much or in society in general. The lady parts and one's sex life isn't really the number one dinner conversation, but I'm starting to feel like it should be discussed more, because millions of women are suffering in silence.
Though I was relieved to learn I wasn't crazy, and my body really was experiencing abnormalities, I left my doctor's office feeling a really strange way. When I got to the confines of my car, my emotions took control, and I cried, alone, for about ten minutes. No, I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer nor had I been given a limited time frame at life. Yet, inside my heart, I felt like I needed to grieve, because I knew this diagnosis had the potential to change my life dramatically.
Forgive the frankness and sight into my intimate life, but one symptom I've experienced is dyspareunia. When being intimate with your spouse becomes physically painful, it's really difficult to deal with emotionally. I feel like a disappointment. Though, I know he loves me no matter what, it's agonizing. It's wearisome and worth grieving. Luckily, my husband is the most loving and understanding man ever, and without him by my side the past few months, life would have been nearly unbearable. Unfortunately, not all women are married to men like my husband. They suffer from dyspareunia, and their husbands don't understand, and it leads to broken marriages.
Also, anyone who knows me, knows I've never much cared for the idea of giving birth. I love children. Children are amazing little human beings. I have loads of love for them. But, I like them better when I can hand them off to their mom and dad when they get whiny and cranky. Not to mention, the whole birthing process really terrifies me. And, I'm really selfish. I like doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. On the flip side, if I were to get pregnant, I'd embrace it and love it and cherish every moment, because that's who I am. And, I'm married to a man who would be the most phenomenal father, and parenthood would be an exhilarating adventure with him. So, when my doctor told me there was a strong possibility I could be infertile, or have a tough time getting pregnant, and if I had the smallest desire to be a mom, we needed to start trying within the next year or two, because as I age, my chances of getting pregnant will diminish significantly, my heart broke a little. I realized I've taken advantage of the fact that I had a choice in the matter. To think the choice could no longer be a choice, or the ability to control my reproductive system could suddenly be out of my control, was worth grieving.
Running and rigorous exercise that causes my body to sweat like an ice cold glass on a hot summer's day is my therapy. It keeps me off anti-anxiety medications. It steers me clear of depression. I'm a nicer, more kind person because of running and exercising. Recently, intense exercise and long runs have caused severe nausea and abdominal pain and cramping. So, to think endurance challenges could potentially be a non-negotiable is worth grieving.
During certain times of the month, I experience such grueling pain that narcotic pain meds don't work, and I wake up in the middle of the night curled in a ball crying and stressed out because I have to wake up in a couple of hours to teach kids with little to no sleep - knowing my patience with my students and colleagues are going to be short, and I may not be able to handle my emotions. There are days and sometimes weeks that I feel so fatigue that I'm not sure how I will make it through an entire work day. I can sleep 12 hours and not feel rested or have the energy to shower. There are moments when I move a certain way and it feels like a golf ball gets stick under my ribs, or when I stand up it feels like a knife stabbing me in my lower left pelvic region. All of this is worth grieving.
There is no cure. I've found ways to manage the symptoms with my diet. I've found alternative treatments for pain other than narcotic pain meds, such as chiropractic care and massage therapy. I've connected the dots and learned my migraines and IBS are most likely linked to endometriosis. I've learned when my body yells at me to slow down, then I should listen to it. I've learned it's okay to be weak sometimes. I've learned though one may look like they have it all together on the outside - they may be crumbling on the inside. I've learned those who experience chronic pain and chronic illnesses are some of the toughest people I know mentally, emotionally, and physically. I've learned when you think you've got it all figured out - you don't. I've learned choices are a lot easier to make when you feel like you have control in making one. I've learned exactly how precious a strong support system is. I've learned to take full advantage of the good days or weeks and to indulge in the present moment. I've learned grieving losses, or even change, is necessary in order to jump back into the game and in order to live a full life. Do not hide from grief - no matter what you're grieving - grieve. I promise your spirit will be lighter. And, when your grieving is done, soar like never before.
For more information and research check out: https://www.endocenter.org/
About five years ago, I started having chronic lower back and hip pain. Last year, it was at it's worst. There were days I could hardly walk. I blamed it on exercise and my running form (which definitely didn't help at all). After several years of chiropractic care, several visits to an orthopedic doctor and sports orthopedic doctor, physical therapy, massage therapy, and a running coach, things started to look up. I was having minimal pain in my lower back and hips for awhile - until it started again (much less invasive pain this time around). Without the help of my chiropractor and running coach, I wouldn't be running today. To them, I owe my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude.
I promise I'm going somewhere with all this gibber jabber...
For those of you who have been reading from the beginning, you know the past twelve months have not been the healthiest twelve months of my life. Last March, I was lucky enough to experience both strains of the flu, 4 or 5 sinus infections, and chronic fatigue. After numerous visits to my doctor's office, he referred me to a immunologist. After a billion tests, I didn't get too many answers. I found out I'm allergic to dust mites, had resistant bacteria in my nose, chronic sinusitis, and my immune system was shot, non-existent. My immunologist is amazing and got me fixed right up with the proper antibiotics and a pneumonia vaccine. I started feeling like myself again, and I thought I was in the clear.
From August to about mid-October, I was on the up and up. Everything was under control - until it wasn't. Chronic fatigue, more sinus infections, chronic nausea, low back and hip pain, major (and quite disgusting) intestinal/digestive/bowel issues, chronic abdominal pain, crazy emotions, terrible anxiety, excruciating menstrual cramps and ovulation, and other weird and worrisome issues that would be way TMI. Back to the doctors. After several visits and tests, my emotional, anxiety ridden self was diagnosed with endometriosis. Finally, there was an answer. I wasn't losing my mind. I'm not a hypochondriac. I never thought I'd be happy to "have something." Which, don't get me wrong, I'd rather not "have" anything, but at least now I know there's a cause to my angst and misery, and I wasn't just a wuss imagining these things happening in my body.
For those of you who have never heard of endometriosis, endometriosis is characterized by the presence of endometrial-like tissue located outside the womb, where it doesn’t belong. Endometriosis is, in fact, “a wound so profound and primal in nature it has the potential for pervading and negatively impacting every aspect of an individual’s life – and the life of those who care for that person; from the ability to go about a normal routine, to intimate engagement in an enjoyable sex life, to the ability to control reproductive choices.” (CEC) (taken from the Endometriosis Research Center's website).
If you're still with me, thanks for hanging in there, for being patient, and for reading. I've contemplated for some time now whether or not I wanted to write about this and share it with the world wide web. I've joined an online support group and have been researching the disease more and more. March is endometriosis awareness month and after speaking with several women I've learned this disease is widespread and many women suffer from it. It isn't talked about in public forums much or in society in general. The lady parts and one's sex life isn't really the number one dinner conversation, but I'm starting to feel like it should be discussed more, because millions of women are suffering in silence.
Though I was relieved to learn I wasn't crazy, and my body really was experiencing abnormalities, I left my doctor's office feeling a really strange way. When I got to the confines of my car, my emotions took control, and I cried, alone, for about ten minutes. No, I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer nor had I been given a limited time frame at life. Yet, inside my heart, I felt like I needed to grieve, because I knew this diagnosis had the potential to change my life dramatically.
Forgive the frankness and sight into my intimate life, but one symptom I've experienced is dyspareunia. When being intimate with your spouse becomes physically painful, it's really difficult to deal with emotionally. I feel like a disappointment. Though, I know he loves me no matter what, it's agonizing. It's wearisome and worth grieving. Luckily, my husband is the most loving and understanding man ever, and without him by my side the past few months, life would have been nearly unbearable. Unfortunately, not all women are married to men like my husband. They suffer from dyspareunia, and their husbands don't understand, and it leads to broken marriages.
Also, anyone who knows me, knows I've never much cared for the idea of giving birth. I love children. Children are amazing little human beings. I have loads of love for them. But, I like them better when I can hand them off to their mom and dad when they get whiny and cranky. Not to mention, the whole birthing process really terrifies me. And, I'm really selfish. I like doing what I want to do, when I want to do it. On the flip side, if I were to get pregnant, I'd embrace it and love it and cherish every moment, because that's who I am. And, I'm married to a man who would be the most phenomenal father, and parenthood would be an exhilarating adventure with him. So, when my doctor told me there was a strong possibility I could be infertile, or have a tough time getting pregnant, and if I had the smallest desire to be a mom, we needed to start trying within the next year or two, because as I age, my chances of getting pregnant will diminish significantly, my heart broke a little. I realized I've taken advantage of the fact that I had a choice in the matter. To think the choice could no longer be a choice, or the ability to control my reproductive system could suddenly be out of my control, was worth grieving.
Running and rigorous exercise that causes my body to sweat like an ice cold glass on a hot summer's day is my therapy. It keeps me off anti-anxiety medications. It steers me clear of depression. I'm a nicer, more kind person because of running and exercising. Recently, intense exercise and long runs have caused severe nausea and abdominal pain and cramping. So, to think endurance challenges could potentially be a non-negotiable is worth grieving.
During certain times of the month, I experience such grueling pain that narcotic pain meds don't work, and I wake up in the middle of the night curled in a ball crying and stressed out because I have to wake up in a couple of hours to teach kids with little to no sleep - knowing my patience with my students and colleagues are going to be short, and I may not be able to handle my emotions. There are days and sometimes weeks that I feel so fatigue that I'm not sure how I will make it through an entire work day. I can sleep 12 hours and not feel rested or have the energy to shower. There are moments when I move a certain way and it feels like a golf ball gets stick under my ribs, or when I stand up it feels like a knife stabbing me in my lower left pelvic region. All of this is worth grieving.
There is no cure. I've found ways to manage the symptoms with my diet. I've found alternative treatments for pain other than narcotic pain meds, such as chiropractic care and massage therapy. I've connected the dots and learned my migraines and IBS are most likely linked to endometriosis. I've learned when my body yells at me to slow down, then I should listen to it. I've learned it's okay to be weak sometimes. I've learned though one may look like they have it all together on the outside - they may be crumbling on the inside. I've learned those who experience chronic pain and chronic illnesses are some of the toughest people I know mentally, emotionally, and physically. I've learned when you think you've got it all figured out - you don't. I've learned choices are a lot easier to make when you feel like you have control in making one. I've learned exactly how precious a strong support system is. I've learned to take full advantage of the good days or weeks and to indulge in the present moment. I've learned grieving losses, or even change, is necessary in order to jump back into the game and in order to live a full life. Do not hide from grief - no matter what you're grieving - grieve. I promise your spirit will be lighter. And, when your grieving is done, soar like never before.
For more information and research check out: https://www.endocenter.org/
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