So here I was with a prescription to go to another doctor and still no closer to finding out the cause the headaches or shaking. The new year had started and my shaking seem to have subsided a little bit. My headaches were all but gone so I figured it was Christmas stress and all was good. I put off calling the doctor, my business was picking up, and I was busy with kids. Besides, Rick didn't have insurance with his work and we really couldn't afford all these visits. (Excuses, excuses, excuses)
January came and went. February began, and I noticed my vision started doing funny things. I'd see what looked like a rain drop out of the side of my eye. I would turn my head or blink and it'd be gone. Hmm... Strange. When I'd look out our big picture window of our apartment, it would be several water spots. Dang, filthy window! Winter was messing things up. I scrubbed the window inside and out. The spots came and went. I blamed the kids and their fingerprints. When I was driving, I thought it was my glasses or the windshield. I washed both.
This scared me and I finally decided to call the neurologist and make an appointment. Surely, a visit with him couldn't cost that much. It was a good thing I called when I did; he was booked out into March.
In March, Rick got a new job and with it health insurance. I would be covered for my appointment with the neurologist in a few weeks. Even this first appointment was going to cost us a pretty penny.
I remember walking into his office that first early spring day: calming browns and tans; soft seats with large fake trees in the corners of the room, tables here and there with reading materials; and large rectangle, floor-length windows that let in the sunlight. The reception desk was directly across from the door and the elderly receptionist smiled brightly, "You must be Brenda."
The few patients in there looked up at me and went back to their reading. I tripped over my feet and mumbled a yes as I went up to the open desk. The grey-haired, happy-camper rattled off everything she would need, gave me five forms to be filled out in triplicate, and waved her bejeweled-hand and telling me to be seated anywhere. I would be called back shortly.
This was to be the first of many trips to doctors' offices where I would have to fill out many, many forms asking me everything from what my grandparents' health was to what I am allergic to to what my health history is to you name it. The forms give me about one inch to fill everything out on and the doctor's office gives me about 10 minutes to do it in. At this particular appointment, I was able to do it in about 5 minutes and fit it in the space given. Now, it'd take me about 30 minutes, and there is NO WAY on God's green earth, I could fit it on ten 1" lines. I learned many years ago to keep all my medicines, surgeries, hospital visits, health history, allergies, etc., on a computer sheet that's updated frequently. I run a copy off before each visit and attach it to these forms with the words in the 1" line See Attached Sheet. Saves time and headache for all involved.
When I was finally called back to see Dr. So & So, I went through all the embarrassing tests I had to do with Dr. Clinic plus a few more on the extensive list I lined out for you on the previous blog. He actually used a sharper tool than a toothpick and ran it up the length of my foot. He also held up a red Sharpie pen and asked me how bright the color was. In comparison to what? Really what was he trying to get at?
He stopped and scribbled a bunch of notes down, made a few grumbling noises, left, and a nurse came back in. She took my vitals. She left and I was alone, freezing and wondering if I could put my shoes and socks back on. After what seemed an eternity, he came back and told me I'd need to come back in six days for an EEG. I'd have to be sleep-impaired for this and needed to get up at 2 am the morning of the appointment-no caffeine, no naps the day before, and no chocolate. http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/eeg/MY00296
The day of the appointment, I was dragging. I felt like telling Dr. So & So he should try having two active toddlers and be sleep-deprived. My husband took the day off work and drove me. It was all I could do to stay awake.
When I got there, I was hooked up to many electrodes and told I could NOT move for the duration of the test, which was about 20 minutes. And of course, being told that, immediately my nose, my ears or something, started to itch. I tried to use my meditation techniques from pregnancy to keep from moving and scratching the persistent itches.
Just when I thought I was done, the technician came back in and told me they had to run another test. I decided I would just go to sleep. I couldn't take it anymore. But then, I was asked questions and there were flashing lights. By the time the test was finished, I was exhausted.
It was several days after the EEG when I received a call from the bubbly receptionist. She had made an appointment for me to have an MRI for 10 days out. Dr. So and So was on vacation and he would like see me mid-April with the results of the MRI. Would that be OK? Really?! What was I suppose to say? No, get him off of vacation. I want my results now.
Ten days would put us into April. Time was ticking, and I was no where near a solution. Nobody told me what I had. Nobody said what they were looking for. Technicians, nurses, or the doctor said nothing. By now every family member was asking if we knew anything. All we could say was, "No, not yet. Just more tests. More follow-ups."
April came and so did the MRI. I'd never had one before. I wasn't claustrophobic so that part didn't bother me. I found it rather curious with all the banging, knocking and rattling. Mid-way through the procedure, I was rolled out of the tube and injected with a blue dye in my veins. All in all, it took a little over an hour of freezing in the sterile tube. http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/mri/MY00227.
Mid-April arrived and with it my much-awaited appointment. I went by myself this time. I sat across from Dr. So & So as he shuffled his notes.
"Well, we can rule out, blah, blah, blah." I didn't understand any of his terminology. "But, I have it narrowed down to three things that will need further testing."
I figured out by now pills weren't going to do the trick. Bummer!
"Yes?" I was hoping to spur him on. I didn't want to leave my kids with the babysitter too long.
He must have decided to get it over with because he said quite bluntly, "You either have a brain tumor, Lou Gehrig's Disease, or MS. We will need to schedule you a lumbar puncture. That will rule out a few of them."
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/amyotrophic-lateral-sclerosis/DS00359
He must of seen the look of shock on my face and realized he had been rude. "Let's hope you have MS. It isn't always fatal."
Keep digging, Doc. You're making your hole deeper.
At the beginning of May, I went in for my lumbar puncture. This one I was worried about. I had to hold perfectly still while the performing doctor inserted this needle deep into my spine. I was on my stomach the whole time and got to watch the procedure through the monitor. It was fascinating.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/lumbar-puncture/MY00982
Afterward, the assistant rolled me out on the gurney, still on my stomach, and told me the dressing rooms were full and it'd be a while before I'd get in to change. 'Sit back, relax, and enjoy the atmosphere.' Right. White, sterile halls with orderlies rushing every-which-way; the intercom dinging now and then calling to this doctor or that; an occasional patient being pushed by for a surgery; freezing air being funneled in from the air vent directly over-headed; and me, left there on my stomach in a gown that was too small and tide in the back. I had to stay laying down for 24-hours to keep headaches at bay.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I, also, remember my appointment with Dr. So & So on May 16, 1996. The day before our 6th anniversary. It was the day everyone I knew, religious or otherwise, had been praying for an answer and a miracle. I was just praying not to die. I had two small children I didn't want to leave behind.
He looked at me and smiled. "Great news! You have MS."
OK...I wasn't going to die. But my aunt has MS and to me this wasn't great news.
"There are two kinds (at this time, that's what the grouping was)--Relapsing and Remitting and Progressive. So what do you think your symptoms have been? Getting worse steadily or getting better?"
Now, you should know, this doctor really didn't know much about MS other than the basic definition. I knew nothing of MS other than my aunt had it and she wasn't doing well. I also knew I had a few symptoms and to me they seemed to be getting worse and lasting forever. That is what I told him.
"I guess you have Progressive. Which means you'll just continue to get worse and worse until you're paralyzed or die. So sorry. "
I was stunned. My husband and two beautiful children were out in the lobby waiting to leave for our long trip to Great Falls, MT, and here I was with the horrible news I had to break Rick.
"I can't help you any further. I recommend you go to the University Hospital where they have a great MS Clinic. Prof. Garden. can take care of you. He is fantastic."
He gave me the card for the clinic at the university and I stumbled out to the lobby. Rick took one look at me and shooed the kids out to the waiting van. I whispered a small explanation to him as I buckled myself into my seat.
The ten-hour ride to my parents' house in Montana was the longest ride of my life. I cried. I was angry. I was scared. I was mad at God. I wondered what I did to make Him made at me. I kept thinking of all the things I had left to do. Somewhere along the way, Rick called my parents and gave them the news. He quietly told me my aunt would be there to help me with any information on MS I wanted. It was at this point I quit thinking about myself and got angry again. I went into a cold, icy silence.
How dare she swoop in on my misery and try to become my friend?!
* * *
(to be continued)
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Monday, December 2, 2013
My Story
Last week, I've had two different people ask me to share my MS experience with them. I've decided to finally put it down for everyone to see. I figured, if you want, you can share it with whomever you want and maybe that person can benefit (or not) from what is taken from this.
People have asked how I knew when to go in to get checked for MS. I didn't. Pure and simple. I thought I was stressed out from being a mother of two toddlers--age three and a half and one.
I knew what symptoms were showing up in early fall of 1995. My right hand was shaking uncontrollably. I was afraid to hold a glass or cup of anything in case I dropped it. My big vice back then was a big 44 oz. mug of soda, and it was a killer to hold, along with pushing the stroller my one-year old was still in. He refused to think he could walk on his own two legs at this moment in time.
I remember the look that passed between my in-laws when I laughed and blamed it on the heat of summer and the stress of the kids. I meant to ask them what "the look" meant, but we all got caught up in talking about how great Disneyland had been and the incident was forgotten.
Migraines showed up shortly after that--devastating, debilitating ones. I would lay down with the lights off and wish to die. My children would think it was fun when I'd let them watch movies all day or lay in bed with them and let them read books. They would fall asleep beside me and I would have the peace my exploding head needed.
Then, about Christmas time, both my in-laws and husband convinced me to go see a doctor. I was working as a Pampered Chef Director and having to either reschedule appointments due to these headaches or was driving through Salt Lake City rush hour traffic with them. Not a safe thing to do. And I could no longer convince them or me that the shaking or headaches was due to motherhood-stress.
I have often wondered if my in-laws had talked to Rick about MS. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had an aunt with MS-my dad's sister. I knew nothing about it at all. So this was the farthest thing from my mind. I can't even remember talking about all these problems to my parents before hand.
I went to the doctor's office with full hope expecting to be given a prescription for my headaches and something for the tremors and be sent on my merry way. You know, the "Take two pills and call me in the morning" type of thing. But that wasn't to be.
My appointment was three days after Christmas, if I remember right. We didn't have a normal doctor so I went to a clinic where you wait for the next available doctor. I sat for what seemed like 90-minutes for my scheduled 3 pm appointment (that's when Rick was able to get off work so I could go). After I was grilled by the doctor for not being seen by any medical person since I'd had Taylor, he got down to the business at hand. He listened to my symptoms, asked me some questions and did a bunch of neurological tests.
I'm going to share this with you since I had to then; and have had to since; and will always have to do these tests:
After I did what he wanted to and feeling quite ridiculous, he left the room. I just remember him leaving and thinking it was getting late and I needed to get home; it was getting dark out. He came back and had a prescription paper in his hand. I was thinking "Yes! I can just make it to the pharmacy and get out of here."
"Mrs.Segeberg."
Total silence. I could hear the buzzing coming from the lights and the traffic picking up from outside the clinic. Must be getting close to 5 pm.
"Yeessss." I was trying to get him to move this on. I wanted to get out of here. Give me the dang medicine so I could leave.
"I really can't help you here at the clinic. I am not really sure what you have for sure. I have written you a name of a really good doctor, a neurologist. Dr. So&So at such and such practice over by the mall. He is better equipped at helping with these issues. We are just a clinic. He can help you with your headaches."
He handed me my 'prescription' note and left, telling me to check with the receptionist on the way out. I was stunned. No pill. No fix. I had to go somewhere else. I came here to get relief and I was pawned off. It took me about 30-seconds for the shock to turn into anger. How dare he pawn me off?! What kind of clinic and Mickey Mouse place is this anyway? I wanted something for these stinking headaches. At least, he could have done was given me something.
I went to the receptionist and paid my bill. When she asked how things were, I told her. Believe me, I told her. But what could a poor receptionist do?
* * *
(To Be Continued)
People have asked how I knew when to go in to get checked for MS. I didn't. Pure and simple. I thought I was stressed out from being a mother of two toddlers--age three and a half and one.
I knew what symptoms were showing up in early fall of 1995. My right hand was shaking uncontrollably. I was afraid to hold a glass or cup of anything in case I dropped it. My big vice back then was a big 44 oz. mug of soda, and it was a killer to hold, along with pushing the stroller my one-year old was still in. He refused to think he could walk on his own two legs at this moment in time.
I remember the look that passed between my in-laws when I laughed and blamed it on the heat of summer and the stress of the kids. I meant to ask them what "the look" meant, but we all got caught up in talking about how great Disneyland had been and the incident was forgotten.
Migraines showed up shortly after that--devastating, debilitating ones. I would lay down with the lights off and wish to die. My children would think it was fun when I'd let them watch movies all day or lay in bed with them and let them read books. They would fall asleep beside me and I would have the peace my exploding head needed.
Then, about Christmas time, both my in-laws and husband convinced me to go see a doctor. I was working as a Pampered Chef Director and having to either reschedule appointments due to these headaches or was driving through Salt Lake City rush hour traffic with them. Not a safe thing to do. And I could no longer convince them or me that the shaking or headaches was due to motherhood-stress.
I have often wondered if my in-laws had talked to Rick about MS. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had an aunt with MS-my dad's sister. I knew nothing about it at all. So this was the farthest thing from my mind. I can't even remember talking about all these problems to my parents before hand.
I went to the doctor's office with full hope expecting to be given a prescription for my headaches and something for the tremors and be sent on my merry way. You know, the "Take two pills and call me in the morning" type of thing. But that wasn't to be.
My appointment was three days after Christmas, if I remember right. We didn't have a normal doctor so I went to a clinic where you wait for the next available doctor. I sat for what seemed like 90-minutes for my scheduled 3 pm appointment (that's when Rick was able to get off work so I could go). After I was grilled by the doctor for not being seen by any medical person since I'd had Taylor, he got down to the business at hand. He listened to my symptoms, asked me some questions and did a bunch of neurological tests.
I'm going to share this with you since I had to then; and have had to since; and will always have to do these tests:
- I followed his finger with my eyes, without moving my head, has he went left, right, up, down, diagonal, in, out.
- I was told to take my index finger, touch his index finger and bring it back and touch my nose. Repeat it several times. Now close my eyes. Try now. Switch hands.
- Skim one heel against the shin of the other leg. Switch.
- I had to do odd facial expressions-sticking out my tongue, raising my eyebrows, or puffing cheeks.
- I had to have my hands, elbow, feet, ears, knees, arms, legs, etc., checked for reflexes and pricked with toothpicks to test for nerve lost.
- I also listened to a tuning fork or snapping fingers to have my hearing tested.
- I've walked in a straight line-heel-to-toe, on toes only, and, then, heels only.
- I had to balance with my eyes closed and heel pressed together.
After I did what he wanted to and feeling quite ridiculous, he left the room. I just remember him leaving and thinking it was getting late and I needed to get home; it was getting dark out. He came back and had a prescription paper in his hand. I was thinking "Yes! I can just make it to the pharmacy and get out of here."
"Mrs.Segeberg."
Total silence. I could hear the buzzing coming from the lights and the traffic picking up from outside the clinic. Must be getting close to 5 pm.
"Yeessss." I was trying to get him to move this on. I wanted to get out of here. Give me the dang medicine so I could leave.
"I really can't help you here at the clinic. I am not really sure what you have for sure. I have written you a name of a really good doctor, a neurologist. Dr. So&So at such and such practice over by the mall. He is better equipped at helping with these issues. We are just a clinic. He can help you with your headaches."
He handed me my 'prescription' note and left, telling me to check with the receptionist on the way out. I was stunned. No pill. No fix. I had to go somewhere else. I came here to get relief and I was pawned off. It took me about 30-seconds for the shock to turn into anger. How dare he pawn me off?! What kind of clinic and Mickey Mouse place is this anyway? I wanted something for these stinking headaches. At least, he could have done was given me something.
I went to the receptionist and paid my bill. When she asked how things were, I told her. Believe me, I told her. But what could a poor receptionist do?
* * *
(To Be Continued)
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Better Left Undone
Hanging on to the edge of the kitchen counter, I was trying to get the last jar of apple pie filling ready to go into the canner for processing. My legs were about ready to give way as I dragged my useless foot "Igor-style" behind me over to the stove. I placed the last jar into the steaming pot, praying I wouldn't dump scalding water all over me and the floor.
As I looked around at the sticky mess left behind, my eyes welled up with tears. Angrily, I set the timer going for my last batch of apples and crawled over to the table. Years ago, I'd have cleaned as I went and would've now being getting batch twenty ready to pop into the canner. I was only on batch one.
This harvest season has given me a harsh reality lesson. I'm not superwoman. I can't do the things I used to be able to do. And I'm working on putting myself into an early grave.
As much as it pains me to set aside some of my passions, I have to do it for my own good. I've had to do this with things in the past-my violin, when I lost the feeling in my finger tips; my hiking days, when my balance and foot issues surfaced; my fun-in-the-sun days, when heat caused me to become ill and weak.
There are scores of things I love to do that require skills, strength, or stamina I'm no longer able to give without putting myself at risk. One way is by becoming overly tired or ill. This can lead to other accidents. I become clumsy and trip. Other times, I become irrational because of fatigue. I go from ranting and raving to crying uncontrollably. Not pleasant for those around me.
Or, in cases like above, I could create an accident and dump scalding water everywhere.
As I was sitting at the table recovering, I started thinking about all the things I could be doing if I didn't "force" myself to do things-if I left things, 'undone.' The list was quite long. I wouldn't have to waste so much time recovering between jobs, and I could do 'more.' I was starting to cheer up.
How many times in our lives do we 'force' ourselves to do things we feel we've got do or we should do? Are those things truly important? Or are they things better left undone? Does your family needs you at this moment, your spouse or child, rather than the project you are working on. Maybe your friend could use a call or your neighbor a helping hand. Are there things you can take from your list you are 'forcing' yourself to do. What things are eating your time?
We live in a world that is spinning out of control-faster and faster. We don't have time to waste. There are things to do and not do. Time to be spent using our hard-earned energy (and money) doing what we enjoy and love.
So take it from me (who has learned it the hard way), leave the trivial behind and finish the good stuff!
As I looked around at the sticky mess left behind, my eyes welled up with tears. Angrily, I set the timer going for my last batch of apples and crawled over to the table. Years ago, I'd have cleaned as I went and would've now being getting batch twenty ready to pop into the canner. I was only on batch one.
This harvest season has given me a harsh reality lesson. I'm not superwoman. I can't do the things I used to be able to do. And I'm working on putting myself into an early grave.
As much as it pains me to set aside some of my passions, I have to do it for my own good. I've had to do this with things in the past-my violin, when I lost the feeling in my finger tips; my hiking days, when my balance and foot issues surfaced; my fun-in-the-sun days, when heat caused me to become ill and weak.
There are scores of things I love to do that require skills, strength, or stamina I'm no longer able to give without putting myself at risk. One way is by becoming overly tired or ill. This can lead to other accidents. I become clumsy and trip. Other times, I become irrational because of fatigue. I go from ranting and raving to crying uncontrollably. Not pleasant for those around me.
Or, in cases like above, I could create an accident and dump scalding water everywhere.
As I was sitting at the table recovering, I started thinking about all the things I could be doing if I didn't "force" myself to do things-if I left things, 'undone.' The list was quite long. I wouldn't have to waste so much time recovering between jobs, and I could do 'more.' I was starting to cheer up.
How many times in our lives do we 'force' ourselves to do things we feel we've got do or we should do? Are those things truly important? Or are they things better left undone? Does your family needs you at this moment, your spouse or child, rather than the project you are working on. Maybe your friend could use a call or your neighbor a helping hand. Are there things you can take from your list you are 'forcing' yourself to do. What things are eating your time?
We live in a world that is spinning out of control-faster and faster. We don't have time to waste. There are things to do and not do. Time to be spent using our hard-earned energy (and money) doing what we enjoy and love.
So take it from me (who has learned it the hard way), leave the trivial behind and finish the good stuff!
Friday, October 25, 2013
Bright Days Ahead
My brother has a Buddhist friend who shared this advice with him, " Do not mourn for the past, worry about the future, but live in the present." My brother needed this advice at a time of turmoil in his life; he needed peace.
I recently read an article about the many times in our lives we may want to relive our glory days. Maybe days when we were healthier I do that sometimes, wishing I could walk normal-especially when I see a neat pair of sandals or fancy high-heel shoes. Or do you wish your kids were still at home; had a job; lived in a bigger house or different neighborhood; or just go back a few years when you were younger. "If only..." seems to be a game a lot of people play.
"You [should] not dwell on days now gone nor yearn vainly for yesterdays, however those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best we have experienced, then we look ahead." Jeffrey R. Holland
The article goes on to talk about being so dissatisfied with your present circumstances that you do nothing for your future. You stay yearning for the past.
What we're doing right now is what'll bring us peace and happiness. Not what we 'should-a, could-a, would-a' , as I always say.
What are we learning? What are we doing? What is making us happy? Are we going places?
It took me many years after my diagnosis with MS to pull myself out of the ashes and to move on. As you read in my last post , it also took me a while to get over moving away from my home state. Every time I go back, it is hard and it brings back a flood a memories, but that is all it is. They are 'glowing experiences' I can learn and grow from.
With my MS challenges, I went to writing school, took several gardening and advanced gardening classes. I volunteered for community and church groups. I was a camp counselor. I wrote children's books and now am compiling family histories for family members. I give gardening presentations to the community. I'm President of the Master Gardener's Association for our county. I've helped judged fairs and I've entered in fairs. I've taught preschool and helped out at my own kids' schools. I've traveled internationally and helped my husband with schools there. I've snorkeled and tried snowboarding (failed on that one, haha). I hike, camp, canoe, ATV, fish, garden, and all sorts of other activities other people would have said someone with MS shouldn't be able to do. I tell them-"Oh YA! Watch me."
I'm living in the present and am loving life.
Each new challenge in our life can be a learning experience, if we let it. It can bring growth and happiness, peace and comfort, in time if we work at it. It won't be easy. It can be brutal. But it will eventually be worth it. But like it says, no sense in dwelling in the past and mourning for the things that can never be again. No use worrying about things you have no control on in the future. Work on the things you can control, which in NOW. Make your own happiness by living in the present so you will have brighter days ahead.
I recently read an article about the many times in our lives we may want to relive our glory days. Maybe days when we were healthier I do that sometimes, wishing I could walk normal-especially when I see a neat pair of sandals or fancy high-heel shoes. Or do you wish your kids were still at home; had a job; lived in a bigger house or different neighborhood; or just go back a few years when you were younger. "If only..." seems to be a game a lot of people play.
"You [should] not dwell on days now gone nor yearn vainly for yesterdays, however those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best we have experienced, then we look ahead." Jeffrey R. Holland
The article goes on to talk about being so dissatisfied with your present circumstances that you do nothing for your future. You stay yearning for the past.
What we're doing right now is what'll bring us peace and happiness. Not what we 'should-a, could-a, would-a' , as I always say.
What are we learning? What are we doing? What is making us happy? Are we going places?
It took me many years after my diagnosis with MS to pull myself out of the ashes and to move on. As you read in my last post , it also took me a while to get over moving away from my home state. Every time I go back, it is hard and it brings back a flood a memories, but that is all it is. They are 'glowing experiences' I can learn and grow from.
With my MS challenges, I went to writing school, took several gardening and advanced gardening classes. I volunteered for community and church groups. I was a camp counselor. I wrote children's books and now am compiling family histories for family members. I give gardening presentations to the community. I'm President of the Master Gardener's Association for our county. I've helped judged fairs and I've entered in fairs. I've taught preschool and helped out at my own kids' schools. I've traveled internationally and helped my husband with schools there. I've snorkeled and tried snowboarding (failed on that one, haha). I hike, camp, canoe, ATV, fish, garden, and all sorts of other activities other people would have said someone with MS shouldn't be able to do. I tell them-"Oh YA! Watch me."
I'm living in the present and am loving life.
Each new challenge in our life can be a learning experience, if we let it. It can bring growth and happiness, peace and comfort, in time if we work at it. It won't be easy. It can be brutal. But it will eventually be worth it. But like it says, no sense in dwelling in the past and mourning for the things that can never be again. No use worrying about things you have no control on in the future. Work on the things you can control, which in NOW. Make your own happiness by living in the present so you will have brighter days ahead.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Decisions
I have been dwelling a great deal on how decisions play a role in our lives; how they have played a part in the lives of my children and my husband and how that has affected me and others. It's like a pebble thrown into a pond. It makes a small splash, and then, it ripples out slowly reaching all areas of a pond.
Over twenty years ago, we moved to the state of Utah from Montana. At the time, I wasn't happy. I'd lived in the state since I was about four. To me, it was home. I knew it backwards and forwards. My husband and I met there; my daughter was born there; I had many happy memories there. My husband likes to joke he dragged me from the state kicking and screaming, and my claw marks are still on I-15 to this very day.
We came here for Rick to finish up his schooling. Here, again, was another decision that was to change our lives. At the time, he was taking physical therapy at the University of Montana. It is a very competitive program. He worked hard for four years and applied around to be accepted for the remaining years of the PT program. It was something like 400 applicants at the time to most schools (U of M being one) and only 125 were being accepted. He was not excepted that year.
So we had to decide. Wait another year, continue with various schooling and try again; or move on. We moved on to start almost all the way over with something he totally loved doing-computers.
That decision and coming to UT has been one that has blessed our lives immensely.
Over twenty years ago, we moved to the state of Utah from Montana. At the time, I wasn't happy. I'd lived in the state since I was about four. To me, it was home. I knew it backwards and forwards. My husband and I met there; my daughter was born there; I had many happy memories there. My husband likes to joke he dragged me from the state kicking and screaming, and my claw marks are still on I-15 to this very day.
St. Mary's Lake-Glacier Nat'l Park
My all-time favorite park to visit each year
One of the many falls in Glacier National Park
We came here for Rick to finish up his schooling. Here, again, was another decision that was to change our lives. At the time, he was taking physical therapy at the University of Montana. It is a very competitive program. He worked hard for four years and applied around to be accepted for the remaining years of the PT program. It was something like 400 applicants at the time to most schools (U of M being one) and only 125 were being accepted. He was not excepted that year.
So we had to decide. Wait another year, continue with various schooling and try again; or move on. We moved on to start almost all the way over with something he totally loved doing-computers.
That decision and coming to UT has been one that has blessed our lives immensely.
Arches National Park-
Yes I have been here when I could still walk well
Bryce's Canyon
Spectacular! But also freezing cold in March
Zion's National Park-The Narrows
Watch for flash floods and do not go in the summer!
Best times to go with no crowds is Mar or Oct
Some of the great benefits: our son was born here in UT; Utah has great medical centers to help with my MS; the job opportunities have been great for Rick, enabling him to travel internationally and make great contacts he may not have been able to with a PT job; my kids were able to attend a Spanish Immersion program from the first grade on and are now fluent in Spanish. This has helped them both get jobs and converse with our Latino neighbors where others have not. Jess was able to get college credits and graduate with a different degree because of her Spanish knowledge.
It's here that I've learned my horticulture knowledge and been given an opportunity to attend seminars with great guest speakers on the subject. Back in MT, I did love gardening, but the season was short and that wasn't the avenue I was pursuing.
I guess what I am trying to say with my rambling is no matter where you're at or what life throws at you, you can make something of it. You can scrap the asphalt out of your fingernails and move on. You just need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You need to see where those ripples spread and what can be done with them.
I am sure if we had never left MT, I would still have found something to do with my life. Rick would have finished up school doing something. Whether it was something he really loved, I don't know. But we were at a crossroads and needed to do something. It's when you don't decide, your life goes no where. You become stagnant. And a lot of times, you wither up and die.
My husband chose not to do that. I chose not to do that. I'm living each day to the fullest and, am hoping with the pebbles I throw into my pond, the ripples I cause will not affect others in a negative way.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Things We Take For Granted
I wanted to call attention to the title of this blog-Ramblings. This is what it is for me. I post when things hit me that have to do with my MS and I think are pertinent and will help others in their life to carry on.
When I first started out, I had a ton of ideas I wanted to share. But as time went on, I had to think about it; dwell more on what may help myself and others. I may have lost followers, and that is okay. This is mainly for me and those that want to know what keeps me going after almost 18 years of this wonderful, yet dreadful disease.
As I woke up this morning, I had a long list of things I was planning to do. Here is a small portion of that list: thin the raspberry bed; pick the tomatoes; pick the rest of the peaches; finish drying the old peaches; can the tomatoes; make a fresh batch of salsa; freeze the peaches; make several batches of raspberry-pepper jelly; and then start dinner and relax in front of the TV with my husband while all these things simmered on the stove or oven.
Hahaha! That was the old days. As soon as I climbed out of bed and my leg seized up, I knew my list went out the window. So here is my list as of now at 11:37 am. I took a shower (without washing my hair since this would do me in for the rest of the day), grabbed a half Pop-Tart for breakfast (not my normal meal mind you), and headed out to the raspberry patch. I had to do SOMETHING on my list. I got 1/8th of it done and I was finished. Kaput! The end. My husband is now out there with my son working on the fall clean up for me.
So I am thinking of my yard and all the things I used to do. All the things I LOVED to do and took for granted.
But this is not to be a pity party. It's to make us think. What other things do we take for granted? Here's a list I came up with for me.
My family. My daughter came up for two weeks to help me with a huge project I was doing recently. I was really thankful she came. She left her husband and her busy life--no questions asked. She helped with my housework, my project, my sanity. Her husband even came up the day before the big event and help with the activity. My husband and and son are always there to help with the housework and yard work. They see when I have reached the end of my rope and step in. Both sets of parents are ones that are always there. They listen and talk to me when things get hard. We take fun trips together.
My health. I was never really sick until I was diagnosed with MS at 28. I was active, hiked, camped, hunted, and fished. I worked with youth groups and was a camp counselor. And until last year, I went to a girls' camp almost every year since I was 12. I loved it! I remember shooting my first deer and hauling it out all by myself, since the party I was with hadn't got theirs yet. The look on the men's faces as I dragged it down the hill was priceless. :) I went fishing in college with my roomies and our dates and I was the one showing them all how to gut the fish.
Now, I see a doctor almost weekly to make sure I am doing the best I can be doing. I am eating better than I've ever been (except the Pop-Tart, hehe). I take supplements and use essential oils, which have helped eliminate some of the medication I have to take. I still try to be active, just not as much as I used to be. I try to get small hikes in with my four-legged cane or walker but have to take lots of rests. Sad to say, my hunting days are over, although I still like to target practice. I like to fish and camp but not backpacking into the back-and-beyond to sleep on the ground. I have a nice trailer with a bathroom (a must for me).
Walking. Who would have every thought of walking as something we take for granted? I remember when I first started to lose the use of my right foot. I went with lighter shoes thinking that would solve the problem. But it didn't. I finally had to face reality and start wearing the brace on my leg. On good days, I can walk without my cane, although sometimes I still use it kind of like a security blanket. I hate falling. It really messes up the spinal system and I end up going to the chiropractor to get adjusted.
Children. Growing up, I always dreamed I would have lots of children. I narrowed down the number to eight--5 boys and 3 girls. Don't ask me where I got that number. Just thought it would be nice and boys always seemed so fun to go wild with. Rick and I have been friends since high school so when we met up again at twenty-two and decided to get married, we agreed eight was a good number.
About a year after we were married, we watched three boys for this couple who were gone for the holiday weekend. The ages were 5, 3, and 2. At first, it was fun. By the time, the parents got back, Rick and I decided to reduce our desired child-count to four or five.
By the time I was diagnosed with MS, we had Jessica (3) and Taylor (1). We were told we could have more children if we wanted. The chances of our children having MS would be 2%. It was explained like this: I'd be going to Las Vegas and having a 98% chance of winning. But during the time on conception, pregnancy, and nursing, I couldn't be on any MS or any other medication. It was for us to decide.
At the time, it was a hard decision. With pray and fasting (in my religion those are dear to us), a decision was made. At no time during these past years have we ever regretted it. Now, where I stand, with my health, I could not be raising children. My daughter is 21; my son, 19. I see other families in the community of various religions with kids still in school. I get tired just looking at them. I admire and love them. I help them when I can. I buy the activity cards, support the fund raisers, and try to go to their games.
Are there times when I wish I had my eight children? Yes! But the Lord knew what He was doing when he sent me my one beautiful girl and my one handsome son. So LOVE YOUR CHILDREN--WHETHER YOU HAVE ONE OR HUNDRED. THEY ARE A BLESSING FROM HEAVEN.
There are many more things on my list I've taken for granted. Things I think about everyday. Things I was born with; things I learned; things I acquired or were given; and now because of MS or because of some other circumstances, I no longer have or can do. I try not to be bitter. It won't help my cause. Some things, I've worked around and still do, camping and gardening are examples. Some things I have had to give up, hunting or playing masterpieces on my violin. But there are always other things out there in this world to learn and to try. That is what I am going to do--one tiny step at a time!
When I first started out, I had a ton of ideas I wanted to share. But as time went on, I had to think about it; dwell more on what may help myself and others. I may have lost followers, and that is okay. This is mainly for me and those that want to know what keeps me going after almost 18 years of this wonderful, yet dreadful disease.
As I woke up this morning, I had a long list of things I was planning to do. Here is a small portion of that list: thin the raspberry bed; pick the tomatoes; pick the rest of the peaches; finish drying the old peaches; can the tomatoes; make a fresh batch of salsa; freeze the peaches; make several batches of raspberry-pepper jelly; and then start dinner and relax in front of the TV with my husband while all these things simmered on the stove or oven.
Hahaha! That was the old days. As soon as I climbed out of bed and my leg seized up, I knew my list went out the window. So here is my list as of now at 11:37 am. I took a shower (without washing my hair since this would do me in for the rest of the day), grabbed a half Pop-Tart for breakfast (not my normal meal mind you), and headed out to the raspberry patch. I had to do SOMETHING on my list. I got 1/8th of it done and I was finished. Kaput! The end. My husband is now out there with my son working on the fall clean up for me.
So I am thinking of my yard and all the things I used to do. All the things I LOVED to do and took for granted.
But this is not to be a pity party. It's to make us think. What other things do we take for granted? Here's a list I came up with for me.
My family. My daughter came up for two weeks to help me with a huge project I was doing recently. I was really thankful she came. She left her husband and her busy life--no questions asked. She helped with my housework, my project, my sanity. Her husband even came up the day before the big event and help with the activity. My husband and and son are always there to help with the housework and yard work. They see when I have reached the end of my rope and step in. Both sets of parents are ones that are always there. They listen and talk to me when things get hard. We take fun trips together.
My health. I was never really sick until I was diagnosed with MS at 28. I was active, hiked, camped, hunted, and fished. I worked with youth groups and was a camp counselor. And until last year, I went to a girls' camp almost every year since I was 12. I loved it! I remember shooting my first deer and hauling it out all by myself, since the party I was with hadn't got theirs yet. The look on the men's faces as I dragged it down the hill was priceless. :) I went fishing in college with my roomies and our dates and I was the one showing them all how to gut the fish.
Now, I see a doctor almost weekly to make sure I am doing the best I can be doing. I am eating better than I've ever been (except the Pop-Tart, hehe). I take supplements and use essential oils, which have helped eliminate some of the medication I have to take. I still try to be active, just not as much as I used to be. I try to get small hikes in with my four-legged cane or walker but have to take lots of rests. Sad to say, my hunting days are over, although I still like to target practice. I like to fish and camp but not backpacking into the back-and-beyond to sleep on the ground. I have a nice trailer with a bathroom (a must for me).
Children. Growing up, I always dreamed I would have lots of children. I narrowed down the number to eight--5 boys and 3 girls. Don't ask me where I got that number. Just thought it would be nice and boys always seemed so fun to go wild with. Rick and I have been friends since high school so when we met up again at twenty-two and decided to get married, we agreed eight was a good number.
About a year after we were married, we watched three boys for this couple who were gone for the holiday weekend. The ages were 5, 3, and 2. At first, it was fun. By the time, the parents got back, Rick and I decided to reduce our desired child-count to four or five.
By the time I was diagnosed with MS, we had Jessica (3) and Taylor (1). We were told we could have more children if we wanted. The chances of our children having MS would be 2%. It was explained like this: I'd be going to Las Vegas and having a 98% chance of winning. But during the time on conception, pregnancy, and nursing, I couldn't be on any MS or any other medication. It was for us to decide.
At the time, it was a hard decision. With pray and fasting (in my religion those are dear to us), a decision was made. At no time during these past years have we ever regretted it. Now, where I stand, with my health, I could not be raising children. My daughter is 21; my son, 19. I see other families in the community of various religions with kids still in school. I get tired just looking at them. I admire and love them. I help them when I can. I buy the activity cards, support the fund raisers, and try to go to their games.
Are there times when I wish I had my eight children? Yes! But the Lord knew what He was doing when he sent me my one beautiful girl and my one handsome son. So LOVE YOUR CHILDREN--WHETHER YOU HAVE ONE OR HUNDRED. THEY ARE A BLESSING FROM HEAVEN.
There are many more things on my list I've taken for granted. Things I think about everyday. Things I was born with; things I learned; things I acquired or were given; and now because of MS or because of some other circumstances, I no longer have or can do. I try not to be bitter. It won't help my cause. Some things, I've worked around and still do, camping and gardening are examples. Some things I have had to give up, hunting or playing masterpieces on my violin. But there are always other things out there in this world to learn and to try. That is what I am going to do--one tiny step at a time!
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Baby Steps
Things have been difficult this summer. Trying to juggle work, church, home, and community activities. I often come home exhausted and wonder "What am I doing?"
In fact, the other day, as I was out picking tomatoes and hobbling back to the house, I had to laugh at myself. I started out having this huge bowl of tomatoes precariously perched on my walker and was trying to shuffle along with them as I worked my way back to the house. I gave up and left them out on the edge of the beds for someone else to bring in. It was then, as I was shuffling, I thought of 'baby-steps.'
In life, I think we all take Baby-Steps. Sometimes, when we are sick; when we are new at something; when we are afraid or unsure of ourselves; or maybe when we just have taken too much on our plate. And I think it is okay. It gives us time to think, clear our heads, breathe.
One of the things frustrating me with my MS has been my cognitive issues. Having a lot to juggle isn't helping the situation much, either. At my work, as a Horticultural Assistant, it helps to have information on the top of my head to whip out at a moments notice. I'm talking to people about their lawn or garden issues when all of a sudden-poof! The information in my head has been lost. I pause and smile and take that baby step--to the computer or book that helps jar my memory of the lost info to help the derailed train. I've got pretty good at covering and telling people I will have to do more diagnoses on their items. It saves one's face, you know.
Other Baby-Steps you may have to take in your life:
In fact, the other day, as I was out picking tomatoes and hobbling back to the house, I had to laugh at myself. I started out having this huge bowl of tomatoes precariously perched on my walker and was trying to shuffle along with them as I worked my way back to the house. I gave up and left them out on the edge of the beds for someone else to bring in. It was then, as I was shuffling, I thought of 'baby-steps.'
In life, I think we all take Baby-Steps. Sometimes, when we are sick; when we are new at something; when we are afraid or unsure of ourselves; or maybe when we just have taken too much on our plate. And I think it is okay. It gives us time to think, clear our heads, breathe.
One of the things frustrating me with my MS has been my cognitive issues. Having a lot to juggle isn't helping the situation much, either. At my work, as a Horticultural Assistant, it helps to have information on the top of my head to whip out at a moments notice. I'm talking to people about their lawn or garden issues when all of a sudden-poof! The information in my head has been lost. I pause and smile and take that baby step--to the computer or book that helps jar my memory of the lost info to help the derailed train. I've got pretty good at covering and telling people I will have to do more diagnoses on their items. It saves one's face, you know.
Other Baby-Steps you may have to take in your life:
- Going to the doctor and getting help
- Going back to school (first time or again)
- Starting a new job
- Getting married/divorced/widowed/separated
- Becoming an empty-nester
- Becoming a new-parent
- Starting over (with what ever life throws at you)
- New illness
- Getting out of debt
- Making a large purchase--ex. house or car
- Breaking a Habit
- Learning to do something
All of these take time. You can't do any of it in one giant leap. You can't do any of it in fast forward. You have to do it one step at a time-Baby-steps. We need the time to think, clear our heads, plan, and sometimes, breathe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)