There are many things that define me a Novel Patient, mainly my collection of unusual illnesses, symptoms and side effects.  But one of them has nothing to do with being sick.  If you recall last November, I started writing a novel.  It’s working title is The Alone Elevator.  It’s a coming of age story set in a dystopian future about the pains and trials of going up and the importance of the freedom to think for yourself.  Here’s a brief summary:

Chosen to attend the prestigious Riddlebane Academy, Kylie Lockmore soon learns secrets that turn her world upside-down.  From the drug her grandmother invented to control the populace to the missing sister she never knew she had, Kylie is forced to question the truth and decide where she stands.

As I’ve been writing this novel I’ve been thinking lately about how I define myself.  So much of my life revolves around and is affected by my illness that it can sometimes feel that that is all I am.  But that is not how I want to be defined.  I am more than a sum of doctors appointments and hospital stays, symptoms and side effects, walkers and wheelchairs.  There are so many other things that define me.  And it occurs to me how important it is that I remember that.  I am a creative thinking feeling being.  I am a graphic and web designer, a scrapbooker, a novelist.  I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, a child of God.  I am so much more than just a “Novel Patient”.

But how do others see me?  Do they see just a “sick girl” with a walker?  Or do they see the real me?  I think that the more I define myself as I want to be defined the more people will see the me I want them to see.  If I focus on being a patient that is what will define me.  But if I focus on being a Novel PERSON…  well that is what I will be and radiate to the world.

Here is an excerpt from the first draft of my novel:

The Alone Elevator Chapter 1 Excerpt

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!

Fear.

Fear that I will end up back in the hospital.

Fear and OCD are a bad combination.  It’s bad enough to have a fearful thought in your head, but with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder you just can’t forget it.

I was woken by pain on Monday morning at 6am.  I felt like I was being stabbed in my left lower back and side.  An all too familiar pain.  The pain of a kidney infection.  AGAIN.  I’ve had far too many kidney infections the last few years.  Several of them have resulted in extended hospitalizations of a month or longer.  So to feel this familiar pain filled me with dread.

That is how the fear started.

I called my doctor as soon as the office opened.  He opted to put me right on antibiotics over the phone.  The first day was truly miserable.  I was in so much pain and my breakthrough pain meds were barely taking the edge off.  Yesterday I seemed to be feeling a tiny bit better.  But today I spiked a fever.

Not good.

Now the fear was escalating.  This infection was not heading in the right direction.  Instead it was following the well worn path that leads to the hospital.

I called my doctor who had me go get a urinalysis done to see where the infection is at.  I’ll get the result tomorrow.  The culture won’t be back though for a few days.

Now I wait and try not to let the fear take over.  But my thoughts are wanting to spiral out of control.

Kidney infection leads to hospital.

Hospital leads to latex exposure.

Latex exposure leads to anaphalaxsis.

Anaphalaxsis leads to another stay in the ICU.

Not fun.

Not fun at all.

Mental illness can sure make it more difficult to deal with a chronic illness.  But I’m trying to calm my thoughts.  Trying to channel my OCD into other happier obsessions.  But really I just want to cry because, though I try, sometimes I just can’t put a happy spin on life with a chronic illness.  Sometimes it’s not inspiring or uplifting.  Sometimes there’s no bigger picture.  Sometimes there’s no underlying lesson to be learned.  Sometimes it just sucks.

Sometimes I’m not a novel patient.  Sometimes I’m just a scared girl who doesn’t want to end up back in the hospital for the umpteenth time.

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.

Tonight I wheelchair danced.

But that’s not where this story starts.

Once upon a time, I was afraid of dancing.  In fact, for most of my life I was afraid of dancing.  I never was super coordinated and I certainly lacked natural rhythm.  I was convinced I couldn’t dance and that I looked stupid trying.

Later, when I was old enough to have a few drinks first, I could get up the courage to dance a bit.  And when over a year ago now I ended up in a wheelchair, dancing seemed to be out of the cards forever.

But the world works in mysterious ways.  And someone named Jane McGonigal came into my life and with her eventually came her invention Top Secret Dance Off.  She and her games have changed my life for the better in innumerable ways and she has truly been a blessing to me, so when I heard about Top Secret Dance Off or TSDO I knew I had to be a part of it.

However, the way you participated in TSDO was by donning a disguise and submitting your video of you dancing to one of the dance challenges.  But I was in a wheelchair.  I could barely dance before.  How could I now?  But I am not so easily dissuaded from something I am determined to do.  So timid at first I made my first and then second video featuring Finger Dancing!

But then I began to joke to my fellow TSDO players that I would wow them with a wheelchair ballet.  Their response to the idea was so positive that I decided that it was something I had to do.  So I recruited my best friend and caregiver at the time Sarina (a real former ballerina) to help me.  The result wasn’t something either of us expected and the response to the video blew me away.  People laughed and cried and were moved and inspired.

For my wheelchair ballet video I won a mask.  The only condition of accepting the new mask as a reward was I had to make a video of me putting on the mask for the first time and dance whatever dance came out using a dance move known as “the solar eclipse” which I was told started in the elbows.  To this day I’m not sure what happened to me when I put on the mask, but my fear of dancing was conquered!  See for yourself…

So tonight I am unmasking myself to all of you because tonight while out to dinner and dancing with my dad and his girl friend I wheelchair danced without any mask at all and I didn’t have to think twice about it.  And although I didn’t see it myself, my dad said when I powered on my wheelchair to spin around on the dance floor, the people behind me watching applauded and cheered.

It occurs to me that the world is full of little miracles and hidden blessings like this.  Because without a wheelchair and Jane and TSDO I may have never challenged myself to get over my fear of dancing at all.