This is not an easy thing for me to confess, so please be kind.

I realized that I am afraid of getting better.  Not because I am afraid of being well; I want nothing more than to be well.  I am afraid of getting better because I am afraid that I won’t.  In other words I am afraid of disappointment.  I am afraid that I won’t get better in both the long and short terms.  I am terrified in fact.

I’ve been having a rough time emotionally with the new diagnosis of Myasthenia Gravis and this prolonged hospitalization (over 4 weeks now).  It’s been a grieving process.  Lots of different emotions.  Lots of tears shed quietly making it hard to breathe the oxygen coming through my nasal cannula.

But I’ve had a breakthrough as well.  My friend Monique and I had a wonderful discussion about all this out of which I created a new way to be in this experience of being ill which is to experience it as quite the opposite.  I created the possibility of being Creatively Courageously Embracing Health.  This means that I don’t have to be afraid of not getting better because I am Creatively Courageously Embracing Health.

Creatively Courageously Embracing Health

As I continue this journey Creatively Courageously Embracing Health, I have undergone 3 treatments of plasmapheresis.  The improvements have been huge!  I can move my legs again without the help of medication (though the medication further improves my strength levels)!  I can also breath a lot better and my voice is stronger as a result.  My doctors are deciding if I’m going to have 2 more treatments or if we are just going to stick with the 3.

Then begins the long process of rehabilitation.  Being weak and/or paralyzed for so long has really set me back, since I am Creatively Courageously Embracing Health I know I will find a way to get where I am meant to be.  I will courageously push to but not past my limits to recover and then I will creatively adapt the rest of the way so I will be where I want to be in embracing my health.

I just hope you will all embrace this possibility with me!

“Too young.”

That is a phrase I have heard a lot in different contexts since I’ve been dealing with chronic illness.  I’ve been told I’m “too young to be this sick”, “too young to have to use a wheelchair”, and “too young to have to use a walker”.  Most recently I was told I’m “too young to increase my dose of pain meds” by my pain management specialist.

I went to my monthly pain management specialist appointment last week.  I’ve been having a lot more pain some days lately.  Stabbing pain in my joints that wake me from sleep and make me gasp in pain when I walk (but yes I’m still walking 99% of the time!).  I went to my appointment with the hope that I would get some relief.  But my doctor felt that I am “too young” to increase my pain meds.  I left feeling disappointed, a little angry, and still in pain.

On one hand I understand her concern.  If I have to keep increasing my pain meds now, what will I do in five, ten, or twenty years for my chronic pain?  What will I do if I end up in the hospital with an acute flare of Autoimmune Pancreatitis which is extremely painful and no pain meds will work anymore?

But on the other hand, I’m in pain now.  And despite what people what people might say, the unfortunate reality is that I’m not “too young” to be in this much pain.  And my age doesn’t make my pain any less painful or any less valid.  And my age especially doesn’t make my pain any less deserving of treatment.

Overall I’ve been happy with my pain specialist doctor.  I’m grateful that she is willing to prescribe me pain medication at all.  I went through several doctors before her who flat out refused to treat me because of my age.

The crux of the problem I think is that chronic pain is invisible.  No one can see my pain.  My pain specialist doctor certainly can’t.  Only I can feel it.  However, though my pain is invisible, I certainly am not.  And I cannot let my invisible pain (nor any of my other invisible illnesses) make me feel invisible.

So what do I do?

I need to speak up for myself and advocate for myself more.  I cannot let myself feel intimidated about telling my pain specialist that I disagree with her decisions.  If I shrink back and keep this to myself, I make myself invisible as my pain.

I also need to share my experience with the people in my life, so they can understand what I’m going through.  I’m not talking about whining about being in pain, but, in the appropriate settings, tell the people in my life what it feels like physically and emotionally to be in my shoes.  Part of that is this blog.  Sharing my journey on this blog helps me feel empowered and lets me make my invisible illness visible.

The bottom line is I am “too young” for just one thing… I am “too young” to let this beat me!

This week is Invisible Illness Awareness Week!  Nearly 1 in 2 people live w/ a chronic condition, most of them invisible. If it’s not you, it’s someone you love.  Help spread the word!

You have to take the good with the bad. I subscribe to this philosophy not just when it comes to my life but also when it comes to my favorite hobby – scrapbooking.

I started scrapbooking almost two years ago now. My mom had made me a beautiful scrapbook for my Bat Mitzvah when I was 13. She promised my younger sister Danielle the same thing. But life got in the way and my sister’s Bat Mitzvah scrapbook turned into a middle school graduation scrapbook then a high school graduation scrapbook and finally a college graduation scrapbook.

As Danielle’s college graduation approached my mom still hadn’t started the scrapbook. But I figured maybe I could help. After all, I was home all day with nothing to do. It might even be fun, I figured. I had no idea I would end up loving it so much, that I would find a hidden talent, and a passion… well more like an obsession.

When all was said and done, my sister’s college graduation scrapbook became a three volume set encompassing her entire life up until that point. It was time to move on to other things, so I started in on my own life.

While going through my own pictures from the last several years, there were many pertaining to my illness. Hospital stays, doctors appointments, and so on. There was even a birthday I spent in the hospital.

At first I was hesitant to include these not so happy memories in my scrapbook. But I realized that these were experiences that I also wanted to remember. These bad times in my life are part of what makes me who I am. So I put them in.

The actual time I spend scrapbooking is therapeutic. It exercises my creative muscles and helps me relax for a few hours while I design and arrange, cut and glue, label and decorate.

It’s actually rather therapeutic to scrapbook memories of my illness. Once it is scrapbooked, it feel more concretely in the past. And it can help me look to the future. For instance, I did a page of my me taking my first few steps when I first started walking again. Now I am able to walk around a store! I can look back and remember it and see how far I’ve come!

Since I’ve been open with my chronic illness, the positives of letting the world take this journey with me have always outweighed the negatives.  But as I strive to make a career for myself, I am starting to wonder if I’ve made the right decision in being so public with my illness.

Being so open with my illness has certainly brought me many blessings.  I’ve had so much vital support especially during difficult times from the people that read this blog.  Sometimes just reading caring comments from people left here have made the world of difference in my ability to get through the day.  My friends and family also have been better able to know what’s going on with me and stay in the loop, so that they can better understand and support me.  I’ve been able to help others by sharing my story and helping people who are going through similar situations not feel so alone.  And I’ve had an outlet for catharsis for myself.

There have also been some downsides.  Sometimes I get unkind and unwelcome comments left here.  Being so open about my illness opens me up to everyone’s opinion on the matter.  I also sometimes have to be careful of what I say because I know that a person I care about in my life will read what I write and I don’t want to hurt them.

But lately I’ve been working really hard to get myself off disability by starting a career in Transmedia.  I went to ARGFest, a conference for Transmedia and Alternate Reality Games, a few weeks ago where I networked and learned a great deal from the panels and speakers.  I had a blast and came back energized to continue pursuing this as a career.  But while I was there I discovered that a lot of people follow my blog, and I started to wonder how that might negatively effect my chances of succeeding in that industry.  Would people not hire me because they had read my blog and knew I was ill?

So that leaves me in sort of a quandary.  This blog is a big part of my life, but I don’t want to give it up, but I also don’t want to sabotage my own career.  So what do you think?  How has being open with your illness been a positive or negative experience for you?  How has it affected your career?  Please leave me a note in the comments!

Here are some photos from my trip to Atlanta, Georgia for ARGFest!

Through my chronic illness, I have come to realize how crucial it is to have faith.  When most people think of the word “faith” they think religion, but there are so many other aspects to keeping faith alive in your life through dark and difficult times.  In fact, the word “faith” is merely defined as “confidence or trust in a person or thing.”

I have been blessed with always having a tremendous faith in myself.  Faith that I have the ability to get through anything no matter what life rolls my way.  But oddly enough, I believe my faith in myself stemmed from my childhood traumas.  As a child I was forced into the role of the third parent in my house.  As painful as it was it gave me an inner strength — a knowledge that I was capable of getting through anything if I just believed in myself.

This inner strength and faith in myself was strengthened as I battled depression.  Living for three years with intrusive thoughts on hurting myself or ending my life and yet not acting on them, save three minor occasions, gave me the faith in myself that I could get through anything if I was determined enough.

So when my illness struck, I’ve always had the faith that I can get through this as well.  Though it isn’t always easy… in fact it hardly ever is, I have kept the faith in myself that I am a strong enough person to deal with whatever I find in front of me.  And that faith has gotten me through the endless doctors appointments and tests, the six and half years of searching for a diagnosis, the prolonged hospitalizations, adjusting to life in a wheelchair, and the daily struggle to keep a positive attitude despite my pain and other limitations.

I have also learned how important it is to keep faith that things will get better, that I will get better.  I have to have faith that I will find a treatment or even a cure that will allow me to live a more normal life again in the future.  This faith that things will be more than okay — faith that things will get better sustains me during my darkest hours.

And then there’s faith that I have in others.  I don’t keep my illness private.  Through this blog, through the people I meet and share my story with, I share my journey with the world.  And I have to have faith in people.  That they will understand.  That they will be there for me.  And though I sometimes find myself disappointed, overall I find that when I put my faith in others they rise to the occasion.  It’s as if they were waiting for me to put my faith in them.  Waiting for me to put my blind trust and confidence in them, and they respond by being there for me in more ways than I can count.  And I am so blessed and grateful for this.

Finally there is the ultimate faith.  The kind you have despite the lack of evidence or proof.  Faith in God.  Though I try to keep this blog secular, I feel I would be amiss if I didn’t share this part of my journey.  Though I was raised Reform Jewish, it never really resonated with me.  It is a beautiful religion, but through it was hadn’t found the close connection to God I’ve so desperately craved especially in the last few years as I’ve struggled with my illness.  I’ve tried out several different churches over the years.  I was going to a Universalist Unitarian church for a while, and though I loved the people and how open they were, I still didn’t find what I was looking for in terms of a close and personal relationship with God.  Finally, two Sundays ago I went to a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints or Mormon church with a friend.  There I finally found what I had been searching for.  I have found the faith in God that I had been seeking.  I realized I had it all along.  I’ve prayed for a long time to find this closeness to God that I now finally feel, but I never expected to find it through Christ, and yet there it is.  And as surprising as it is to my friends, family, and even myself, I am getting baptized in a month.    And so I am really excited to embark on this new journey of faith.

Faith is so important no matter what form it takes.  When you are suffering physical pain all the time what else do you have to turn to but some sort of faith that things will be okay.  Whether it comes from within or from others or from God, faith is what has sustained me through my battle with chronic illness.