Facts.

The End.

Just Kidding.

This week has been a roller coaster for me. A huge roller coaster. Shoot, who am I kidding. My life has been a huge roller coaster for the past month. Let’s recap, shall we? My son’s car literally somewhat explodes while he is driving it, in front of me. (Just the transmission, but when you are a mom, heart attack.) The company that I worked for, loved and adored, was bought out. My baby turned eleven. We announced the podcast.

And this morning, I snapped at my kids, and I sat in my car and cried for about ten minutes before I went into my job.

What’s wrong? It hurts to hold the steering wheel. To type is so difficult sometimes. I hardly slept at all last night. Sometimes I get so cold I feel like I am laying in the middle of a snowstorm. Then two hours later, I am pretty sure I am frying under a saguaro in the middle of the Arizona Desert. I have fallen in public because my feet hurt. I have crawled to the bathroom. I have turned on the water with my elbow to wash my hands because they feel locked up. So what’s wrong? I have Lupus. SLE Lupus (Systemic lupus erythematosus) and Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis.

So basically? My immune system attacks my own tissues. So, I kick my own butt. Get the title? Clever, I know.

I’m private. I don’t put my business on front street. But this morning, after my ten minute pity party, I decided to pull it together, and maybe I can help somebody with this. Just so they know they aren’t by themselves.

Some days, I have no idea how I am actually going to physcially walk down to the car. But somedays, I get on my treadmill and run three miles. Sometimes, I can’t even hold hands. Somedays, I can hold hands and play a game of mercy along with it. Somedays my skin itches so bad, I cry because it hurts to touch it, but it itches. So it’s like having a bad itch that you can’t scratch. Somedays, my skin is perfect without a flaw. Somedays, when I cry, my tears feel like acid running down my cheeks. Somedays are so amazing that I laugh until I cry, and I love that. Somedays I am afraid that this disease will kill me. Somedays, I feel like I can live forever.

What triggers me? Changes in my thyroid meds (which happened this week, go figure). Excitement, nervousness, fear. Near death experiences – and by that, I mean that feeling you get when a tractor trailer comes over three lanes and about side swipes you? Yeah, that has literally triggered a flare.

But, I’m lucky. I have such a great support system. My friends, my family, my kids, my sweetie – everyone. But what makes me even luckier is this – A couple weeks or so ago, when the whole merger was going through, I was alot worse than I am today. I was laying in my bed, and I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, my hand was being held, and I was being prayed for. Folks, that’s powerful. Tears running down his face, praying…

I laid there and watched him, cause he didn’t know I had awoken. And shoot, I wondered if I was about see something… LOL. But all I saw, was a person who was broken for another person. The next morning, my oldest son who rides to work with me, picked my hand up off the gear shift, and kissed it. And he said he hopes I feel better. I was alot better then, but he could look at my hands and see it.

I have been accused of having a perfect life. My life isn’t perfect by any means. My everyday is a struggle. But everyday, I choose my path. I can choose gratitude, or grievance. I can choose pain, or passion. I can choose fighting, or freedom. And not everyday I make the right choice. Somedays, I lay in my bed and cry. Somedays, I cry before I walk into work. Somedays, I wonder if I will ever make it the next day.

But somedays, aren’t most days. Most days, I choose wisely. I get up and do yoga. I eat healthy. I do my hair and makeup. I take my medicine like I should, gluten is a no-no, and I listen to others with inflammatory issues.

But more importantly, I choose to love like Jesus loves. I choose gratitude because I am so loved, so honored, and so blessed. I choose forgiveness, so I have the freedom to live a passion filled life. I choose grace, because so many people have real issues in their lives, and to honest, I have medical insurance, a great job, and so many people who love me. What more can someone want?

So this is my story. My truth. So yeah, I might not look sick today. My eyelashes are perfect, brows even better. But that doesn’t mean that just because people look great, that they don’t have troubles, too. So I ask for you prayers – if you happen to think about it. For me, the people who help and care about me, my babies, and my co-workers. I have never missed a day of work for this stuff – I don’t plan to now.

So guys, there ya have it. And thanks for all the love and support on the upcoming Podcast! WE ARE SO EXCITED! Anyway, Love Fully. Live Fully. Shine on.

Sat Nam.

Well. I ghosted for a few days. Figuratively and almost literally. I’m gonna share more than I normally do – just because it is something that I think needs to be addressed. Because if I am dealing with it, I know I’m not the only one.

I am the picture of health to most people. I go to the gym. I run. I do yoga. I meditate. I am proactive about my health. But it isn’t because I am health nut- it’s because I have to be. The past two years my poor body has been through the ringer. It’s been one of those things where I really say, what’s next.

Sunday. I got sick. Super sick. The type of sick where you really get scared. I was vomiting uncontrollably. It went on for about four hours. I slept in the bathroom floor for awhile. I went to bed, and woke up once to puke again. I woke up, saying “I’ll be better today!” And guess what. I wasn’t. I tried to talk myself into it. Although, I had quit puking. I felt like crap. My whole body ached. My feet hurt when I stepped on the ground. I figured after a good nights sleep, I’d feel better.

Lies.

I woke up the next day, and to be honest, I knew there was something off. I call the doctor- and I am instructed to go to the Emergency Room. So, off I go.

I was ashamed. Ashamed I was sick. Ashamed there was another problem. I was mortified that I would miss another day of work. Let me state- that in the three years I have been employed there- this is the fifth day I called out sick. So, as of last Sunday- 3 days In three years. And please know, my employers are fantastic. Two of those days- they forced me to take off. Because they knew the problems I was having. So it’s self induced- the panic and shame I feel.  It isn’t from them.  It’s from me. 

I associate, and I think a lot of people do, being sick with being weak. This association is only for myself though. Not others. I feel for others with health issues. I encourage rest, doctors, talking, time off, take care if yourself. But for my own self? Complete shame. I feel like if I was stronger. If I did something different. Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten sick.

Well, this day- it was a ‘cardiac event’ stemmed from dehydration. To break it down- my heart was angry because I was dehydrated. I was given a million bags of iv fluids- and I am on the mend. It’s amazing how fluids can make such a difference. Who knew.

Guess who I contacted? Only the people I absolutely had to. Why? Because I don’t want people to pity me, or think – ‘now what’? Because listen. I’ve heard the tones before. When you have a weak moment and you tell a friend about what you are going through, and they seem- judge-y. It sucks. The “WOW. That seems like a lot.” Or “it seems like it something different every week. “

You are right, Karen. It does. And it doesn’t seem like something. It is something. But all the little issues all started with the big one. But please, tell me more about the person who had 14 items in the 10 item or less checkout. And keep being dismissive.

Yes. That was bitterness you detected. But this why I just keep my mouth shut. Shame. I was shamed once and became self conscience. So, I really kinda ‘suffer alone’- not even trying to sound dramatic. I could have asked a number of people to come sit at the hospital with me today- and I was scared. But I refused to ask. Why? Shame. Don’t want to bother anyone.  And I am so not kidding.  I literally have a list of people who would have came.  But because of one statement, by someone that I am not even really friends with at all, it clammed me up. 

So, if your loved one has health issues. Or you even know someone who is just struggling, health or not, and you are in a good mental place – Call.  Text them.  Reach out.  Let the speak freely.  It’s hard to be by yourself.  And just because someone is married, has kids, great parents – doesn’t mean that they don’t feel ashamed.  Autoimmunity, cancer, flu, or just a string of bad luck- let them know it’s okay to call them. It’s a lonely world when you feel shamed. This isn’t a fact that I have no one – I do. This is just me saying openly- it’s hard to let people in sometimes- especially when you feel like a broken human.57832145616__5040EA94-B9FE-440F-B011-59641F411E6F

Because some days. I do feel broken.  I understand.  It’s hard.

Then I gotta remember – God’s doesn’t let us be broken.  And then, I talk to my tribe and they reassure me.  That they love me.  They just love me.  And everytime, they tell me that.  A little bit of that wall comes down.  

And I am so grateful. For my health. My home. My family. My friends. I am a lucky one.