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.

Sometimes you expect one thing and get another… especially when living with multiple chronic illnesses. I finally saw the Sjogren’s specialist at yesterday.  He spent a good 40 minutes pouring over my records and taking notes on them.  He listened to my insanely long list of symptoms.

The interesting thing is he came to the conclusion that Sjogren’s probably isn’t my main diagnosis.  He really feels that I have some sort of autoimmune neurological disorder going on causing the seizures, episodes of paralysis, tremor, severe pain upon standing that has me in a wheelchair, motility problems, bladder problems, memory problems, and recent facial drooping and uneven pupil dilation.  He thinks the Sjogren’s is secondary to whatever is causing all of that.

He’s going to be coordinating with my normal rheumy to get me a lot more specific tests to work me up for this and try and figure out if this is originating in the peripheral nerves, ganglia, or brain.  He said he suspects that it is probably in both either the peripheral nerves or ganglia and also in the brain.  He also probably wants to me travel to John Hopkins to see a neurologist specializing in this there.  He said my case is one of the most unusual and complex and in my situation I need to go to the top doctor even if he or she is located on the other side of the country.

I’m not totally sure what to think and am still processing this.  I went to him expecting to discuss other treatment options for Sjogren’s and am now going to be pursuing an alternative primary diagnosis instead.

I’m also feeling pretty scared.  I feel like I’ve been thrown back out into unknown territory again.  Back trying to tread water in the deep end of the pool.  I also know that the kind of disease he thinks I probably have is not something that is good to be diagnosed with.  I’m also frustrated that no one has really seriously pursued the neuro stuff thus far and that I had to drive 3.5 hours to see a Sjogren’s specialist to figure that Sjogren’s probably isn’t my main problem.  Sigh.

I guess part of it too is that another whole year of my life has rolled by… I just turned 26… and now we are back at trying to diagnose me again which means its going to be even longer till we can start a treatment other than prednisone again which means its going to be even longer before I have some hope of having some semblance of a “normal” life back again.  Maybe its because it’s that time of the month right now as well, but I’m just feeling really upset and like this is a step backwards.  I know intellectually it is really maybe FINALLY a step in the right direction, but it sure doesn’t feel that way right now.  I’m 26 and I want my life back.  I’ve been too ill to have a “normal” life since I was 18.  I’m just so tired of it all.

I guess the worst part is the not knowing what’s going on or what to expect.  If the doctor were to just tell me I’m going to be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life at least I could learn to live with that fact.  But I don’t have any facts right now to learn to live with so I can grieve and move on.  Yes I suppose that’s the worst part of all.

I feel so lost right now I don’t know what to do with myself really.

In the meantime, my mom and I are staying at my grandma’s since she lives by this new Sjogren’s specialist which was 3.5 hours away from where I live.  We’ll be driving back on Wednesday.  The Sjogren’s specialist said he’d get back to me in about 2 weeks  – after he has a chance to talk to my current rheumy and review all the neurological testing I’ve already had done, so that we don’t repeat any tests unnecessarily.  Then there are a bunch of specialized neuro tests that I’ll need to have done either around here or at Johns Hopkins.

Intellectually I know this is a good thing and that finally getting the correct diagnosis will lead to the right treatment that will eventually get me healthier and able to live more of a life.  Right now I’m just feeling kind of depressed about the whole thing.  I’ll be okay though.  Just takes a little time to process all of this.

In the meantime I’m staying more than busy.  I’ve been continuing on with National Novel Writing Month where you try to write a 50k word novel in 30 days.  So far I’m at about 12k words, so I’m doing fairly well.  I’ve been letting a handful of beta-readers read along as I write it, and the feedback has been extremely positive and motivating for me to keep writing.  I’m also working on designing two online games and working on a huge needle point.  So at least I’m not bored. 

It all really comes back to maintaining hope.  Emotionally this has been a bit of a setback for me because I was expecting answers and got more questions.  But I choose to maintain hope that this will lead me to the right treatment in time.  Ultimately I already have whatever I have.  The diagnosis — the label — won’t change that.  I am learning to live with whatever it is regardless.  And I have faith in myself that I will get through this.  As long as I don’t loose hope I haven’t really lost anything.  There are always new options and opportunities I can make for myself if I remain hopeful and open to them!

Tomorrow I am heading down out of town on a trip to see a Sjogren’s specialist.  My appointment is on Monday.  Since it is about 3 hours away we — my mom and I — will be spending two nights at my Grandma’s house which is in the area.

I have high hopes that he will be able to provide me with some new treatment options.  At the same time I am nervous about getting my hopes up too high.  I have been disappointed by doctors many times before.

It can be hard to maintain hope when living with a chronic illness especially when you are told by your doctor that you are basically out of treatment options.  But the alternative — falling into despair — is much much worse.  So I choose to maintain my high hopes knowing full well that sometimes I will be disappointed.  That’s okay.  Disappointment is a part of life.  I realized a long time ago that you have to take the good with the bad.

On a different note… Sometimes I surprise even myself with what I can do if I set my mind to do it.  Since the start of the month I have been writing up a storm on novel for National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo.  As of this writing, I am up to 10,701 words which puts me about 700 words ahead of schedule!  You can go to my NaNoWriMo Profile page to continue to follow my progress and to read a synopsis and excerpt from my novel.  Since I started doing creative writing again, I’ve been on sort of a writers high.  I don’t remember the last time I was in such a great mood for days at a time!

I’ve also stood up another time for a another whole minute.  I haven’t been able to do it as often as I would like, but the fact that I’m doing it at all makes me very happy.

I think hope is self-perpetuating.  Hope gives you the strength to reach beyond what you think you can do which in turn gives you more hope.  And all these things give me hope for a good today and a better tomorrow.

Sometimes in the face of adversity you just have to stand tall.

My doctor woke me up on Sunday morning to tell me that I may have a blood disorder – Polycythemia. Unless there’s been a mistake either with the lab or the blood draw itself, I am making too many red blood cells and my iron is much too high. He was hesitant to tell me what might be causing it, but if the repeat test I got today still comes back high he wants me to go see a Hematologist. I looked it up myself and the possibilities of the causes are rather frightening… ranging from cancer to a terminal illness to kidney disease.  Needless to say I’ve been feeling rather anxious about it.

In addition, I’ve started tapering my Prednisone dose again post face drooping.  My neurological symptoms of my brain inflammation have been coming right back.  My tremor especially has been so bad I am having trouble doing simple tasks.  It’s so frustrating I just want to cry.

So this evening talking to Melissa, my caregiver, about it I broke down.  I’m so tired of it being one thing after another!  It’s two steps forward one three steps back.  So I decided to take a stand.  Literally.  I wanted to see how long if at all I could bare the joint pain I get while standing.

We turned my wheelchair around so I could use the back of it to hold myself up, and Melissa sat in the chair to help weigh it down so it wouldn’t tip.  Trembling I slowly pulled myself to my feet.  It was agony.  But I shifted my weight until I found a bearable “sweet spot”.  And then I stood there for a over a minute!

It was excruciating and exhausting.  I needed to lay down afterward and take some extra pain medication.  But the victory was well worth it!  I stood for longer than I’ve been able to in over a year! I showed my illness who is boss!

I still have high hopes that the Sjogren’s specialist I’m seeing on November 9th will have some new treatment options for me that will significantly help my joint pain and neurological symptoms.  But in the meantime, I will continue to take a stand against my illness.

“You are basically out of treatment options at this point.”

My rheumatologist’s words were like a slap in the face.  The realization that I may be at the end of the road isn’t easy to accept.  The Rituxan didn’t work.  My rheumy doesn’t want to try anything else at this time.  Should I just accept that this is how my life is for the foreseeable future?

I’ve been in a wheelchair for just about a year now.  Perhaps it is time to stop thinking of it as a temporary thing and accept it as a permanent part of my life.  Doing so seems reasonable enough under the circumstances, so why do I feel like such a failure?  Is it wrong that part of me wants to stop fighting it all the time and just get on with living as things are?  Does that mean I’ve given up?

But there is a glimmer of hope.  My rheumy has referred me to another rheumy who specializes in my main diagnosis, Sjogren’s Syndrome.  I still am hanging on to the hope that he’ll have another idea for treatment for me, and that this time it will work.  But I’m kind of terrified that I’m just setting myself up for more disappointment.