for the holiday…a drug holiday

Dec 28, 2015 by

In the world of the chronically ill, there is a fantastic sounding phrase called "the drug holiday." To me, this always evokes images of sun-drenched beaches where all the overworked pill bottles and syringe dispensers go to relax and take a break from the demands of their patients. And maybe another sun-drenched beach where those patients go, free from the confines of schedules and side effects and careful meal balancing and the math gymnastics involved in every Daylight Savings Time switch.

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Milestones and Memories

Oct 19, 2015 by

8 years and 12 days ago, a ticking time bomb went off in my brain. If you had asked me before it happened if I felt anything coming on, I would have said no.

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Searching for Peace Amidst Despair

Sep 30, 2015 by

It’s been 46 days since I’ve run.

So sad. So lonely.

So sad. So lonely.

Forty-six days ago I hurt myself while training for a half marathon.  I was devastated.  I read up on running injuries and followed all the advice – I iced, I took ibuprofen, I stretched, I rested, you name it.  After a torturous week of “rest” I laced up my sneakers, set up my running playlist, walked out of the front door, begging my body to cooperate.  To my utter disappointment, I barely got to the end of my street before I was forced to limp back in tears.  I tried week after week after week but my body was just not healing.  The half marathon came and went.  My Facebook feed was flooded with posts and pictures of my friends’ beaming faces and their medals.  I was supposed to be gloriously crossing the finish line with them.  Instead, my increasingly-not-so-firm butt was forming an in increasingly large dent in the couch.  Just a few months ago I was in one the best places in my life, both mentally and physically.  Then boom!  In one day, one morning, one run, everything changed, literally ONE DAY after hitting my goal weight.  I felt myself sinking into a depression.  I knew I was.  But acknowledging it didn’t do anything to escape it.

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you’re neither fish nor fowl when you’re chronically ill

Aug 24, 2015 by

There's a certain amount of attitude that goes into having a chronic illness. You accept that this is your body and that you have limitations. It really isn't the kind of situation where you can grit your teeth and pull yourself up by the bootstraps and you will overcome. The American Dream doesn't work on chronic illness. But you can give your chronic illness a big old middle finger and have fun with the things you can do.

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Down. Discouraged. Disappointed.

Aug 19, 2015 by

After having my sons I started running with the sole intention of losing the baby weight.  Since then I’ve had a love/hate relationship with running. I ran a few 5Ks this spring and felt pretty good about myself, but then something inside of me changed and I started to question, “If I can run 3.1 miles, could I run 4?  5?  Maybe a 10K?”  Well, I wanted to find out.  So that’s how it started, and I began to push myself like I never have before.  I started running further and faster and when I was done, sweat pouring out of my body, hair drenched, I felt it – the ultimate reward: runner’s high.  Don’t get me wrong, while I was running I was cursing under my breath, questioning why I was doing it, feeling nauseous, swatting at bugs, hating every second.  But when I was done?  Wow.  It was worth every second of pain.

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