Tag: Illness

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Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 195 and Waiting on Hand & Foot

I’m embarrassed that I need help with minor physical tasks. I’ve got an infection of the self sufficient Americana myth that seems to have taken root right in my very marrow. If you need something done you’d better do it yourself right?

When I was much sicker and undiagnosed two years ago, it felt easier to accept help because surely it must be temporary. There is no harm in needing help if you know you can pay it back tenfold? There is no harm in being unproductive for a time if you can pay it it back with interest.

But what will if can’t pay it back? What if I must rely on the kindness of others forever? Early on I struggled with little things like needing to use a wheelchair in the airport. I told myself stories like“I could walk if I just tried harder and accepted more pain” as I went through the concourse on the way to a hospital stay. I couldn’t pay back fellow travelers for slowing them down. And maybe no one minded that I was sparing myself pain for little inconvenience on their end. Perhaps I could accept small types of kindness.

But what if it’s not temporary? And what if it’s a significant amount of help! What if I do need help with basics for the rest of my life? Thanks to a recent trip my husband took I learned his running of the household increases my capacity by a full 30%. I could do everything just fine on my own but it would make my life much smaller. And it doesn’t seem to make his life any less enjoyable. On the contrary he shines when showing off his excellence in operational matters. It’s possible what I see as an undue burden is something he quite enjoys.

But I can’t quite convince myself it’s a good thing. The self audience myth has a deep hole on me. But if a third of my capacity disapates into tasks like cooking, cleaning, errands, and logistics but I’m enriched and energized by work like writing or working with the media then shouldn’t the choice be obvious?

And yet I still find myself embarrassed and angry about my limitations. . Why did it exhaust me so much to stand and wash lettuce? Or require so much rest to recover from a short run to the pharmacy. Those are small, albeit physical, tasks. My soul feels broken and my body a traitor with these small physical limits.

Whereas other pursuits can be done from bed. And even though it sometimes makes me sad it’s not always my choice, I don’t mind that my world is often limited to lying flat for hours on a mattress. I don’t resent it. In fact, it makes me rather happy. I’ve got the whole world available to me thanks to the internet. I can invest as easily in bed as from a fancy office. Twitter is just as good a connection to the networks of ideas and power as conferences or clubs. Better often.

The only part I resent is feeling like I’m a burden. Like I need to be waited on head and foot like some aristocrat or an ailing relative. Well not like an ailing relative. I am ailing. That part is the. But I can thrive in it with help. I just hope I’m not to embarrassed to take it.

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Chronic Disease

Day 194 and House

The downward pressure I was discussing yesterday is taking me out for a few days. My doctors are torn between whether it’s the virus I’ve been prescribed some exciting news drugs for, or if the exciting news drugs are simply too much for my body to handle. The minimum viable dose in pharmaceuticals can be tricky. Too much and you kill the virus and it’s host. Too little and the suffering continues on.

I was watching the tv show House last night. It seemed like an appropriate show to rewatch as when I first came across the show I wasn’t myself an idea “House” patient felt extremely soothed by it. Would I make to watch a doctor that gets to the heart of odd diagnostics? Who instead of saying “well the tests are normal” says “these tests don’t help us explain the symptoms” and carries on? Why yes I would.

I’m lucky to have a number of doctors who do the same. It makes watching the show enjoyable as I’ve sat through countless diagnostics meetings and drug experiments that sound exactly like the ones on the show. I recognize tests and treatments. I’ve been put on several of the drugs just for the two episodes I watched last night.

We are dosing down on the antivirals for a few days. I’ve been told to get some rest and not to add in any stresses that I can avoid. While I don’t think writing is stressful I do think checking off the box for my daily essay would feel like a relief. So I’m doing that a bit early and keeping it short. If you are inclined to send good energy my way or you are from a tradition that values prayer I would appreciate being in yours.

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Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 193 and Downward Pressure

I’ve had a terrific year (pandemic aside) with significant progress on my health. I’ve become used to seeing positive trends, especially within the last six months. But the last month has been a mess for me and the downward pressure is getting to me emotionally. I’m afraid. The fear of a setback is palpable.

I haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly what has been causing a dip in my progress or frankly if it is even a dip, as it could just be a few bad days. It may be that I’m just not progressing as fast as I could have hit some Pareto Principle limit and it’s just going to be a slog to get the remaining gains. Some of my metrics continue to improve (I’m seeing cardiovascular improvements still) but my energy, pain and inflammation seem to be going in the wrong direction.

I’m crushed by the exhaustion in particular. And sadly I know this to be real. Because I take immunosuppressants I am prone to infections. To combat one I was put on a course of antibiotics which seems to have some negative side effects. So now I can’t tell if I am exhausted because I am running an infection or because I’m having a bad reaction to the drugs. Could be both.

I feel angry at my body for this pause in progress. I’ve been working so hard at improvements. When I look at how I spend my time I am often overcome with resentment and envy of healthy people. It saddens me how much more of my life needs to be dedicated to doctors than a normal person. It’s especially frustrating as in the spring I was regularly noting how well I was doing and how much capacity I had to work.

Of course, the benefit of writing every day is I can go back and see what was going on. I’ve been doing plagued by the caprice of my body before.

The trajectory of my health is one of continual improvement but scatterplot is jagged as hell as each day vacillates between health and pain.

It’s my hope that this is just another local minima and I’ll be able back to my “normal” soon. Even if I have hit 80% of my gains I can manage with that. But it’s valuable to recognize the negative emotions as they come so we can let them go.

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Emotional Work Preparedness

Day 192 and Cherries in Air Conditioning

I found myself eating an entire pound of chilled organic bing cherries in bed while binging episodes of Downton Abbey this week. Watching the British aristocracy cope with modernity poorly seemed like an excellent balm for the climate anxiety that has been gripping me during the consecutive heatwaves inflaming the American West.

I’m a doomer and a prepper but recently I’ve felt completely defeated by the looming impacts of climate change. And I’ve been manifesting it is a kind of orgiastic panic of consumption. We had a windfall this year and it has soothes some of the panic I’ve had about having the resources to survive. Maybe it will be miserable but we might have enough wealth to avoid dying.

But I’ve been spending more on petty purchases of comfort. I’ve bought 2lbs of organic cherries, the large carton of organic blueberries, the $15 bags of dark roast coffee for espresso, and the $10 bar of 95% dark chocolate without a second thought. We’ve had sashimi for lunch and on Friday I ordered a lobster roll. We live thousands of miles away from the ocean in Colorado. We don’t grow or fish any of those crops here.

The excuse I’ve been using is that I’m concerned (nay convinced) none of these things will survive the next 25 years except as extreme luxury goods. If I can see the changes coming should I not enjoy the access I have to food that will no longer be available in my fifties? If I can see the end coming why conserve? I’m not Exxon or BP or some giant mining extraction concern in China. My forgoing small luxuries as an individual will do nothing to stop the catastrophe and I would like fond memories of the taste of a cool tart cherry in my twilight years. Burn me at the stake for it I guess.

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Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 186 and Broken

I’m coming up on my two year diagnosis of ankylosing spondylitis. I’ve had two years of feeling broken as I waded though the long haul from being bedridden to now being reasonably healthy. But I’ve yet to let go of the feeling that I’m broken.

Being a productive worker has been a part of my identity for my entire work life. To experience two years of not contributing financially to anything nearly broke me. What value did I have? How could I ever recover?

But I’m not broken. I’ve got more limits on my time as I just focus on health and wellness to avoid a repeat of my medical leave. But I doubt most people would know or care. I’ve been doing some of the best work of my life recently. So why does this feeling of brokenness persist?

Some of it is tied to me making some mistakes as I transition back to workout full time. I feel I owe people my time and work as I let them down. I feel I have a debt to pay off (not a literal one but more emotional for having stuck with me when I wasn’t useful). So I’ve been tolerating some people and work that I should probably let go. It takes as much energy to work on small potatoes and worry oneself about as it, as it does to aim for the big projects and goals.

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Emotional Work

Day 185 and Small Potatoes

I’ve been stewing on something for the whole day so I’ve not felt I had the mental focus to write. Plus it’s 4th of July and I was busy eating BBQ and watching Roland Emmerich movies. I’ve watched Independence Day every single year since it came out and that’s as traditional as Die Hard on Christmas.

The reason I was stewing this morning is I feel like I’ve been wasting my energy on something. It didn’t start as a waste but it’s dawning on me that I’m not the best at protecting and preserving my limited reserves. I say yes to say too much.

I’ve got to stop fucking around with small problems. If I’ve got the capacity to manifest shit into reality 20% of the time why am I using that up on small potatoes when it’s just as much work to do it at scale?

Why put my energy into solving smaller problems when I can swing for the fences? Why do I think small potato problems are worth an iota of my energy. I am the type of woman who refuses to cook because it’s an inefficient use of time when industrial society has packaged foods. So why the fuck do I keep saying yes to people and problems that I don’t think are worth my time when I won’t even boil water? What the actual fuck is wrong with me.

I just feel too much social pressure to say yes to asks. If someone gets me excited to help I’m terrible at stepping back. I got convinced I was a mean bad person when I said “no” as a younger woman. I was told I wasn’t being accommodating. I was told I wouldn’t be well liked if I wasn’t nicer. Now I’m beginning to realize this was potentially poor advice. Might even be a function of gender (got to be a good girl). Either way I’ve got to stop saying yes to shit.

I’ve got limited energy and time. We all do. But it’s especially true for me as I deal with a disability in my ankylosing spondylitis. A chronic disability means saying yes like an abled person is terrible strategy. I’ve got to play the game smarter, budget my energy and time like the limited resource that it is and get over any past perceptions I cling to about “being nice.”

You know what isn’t nice? Saying yes to something you don’t want to do because you don’t want to hurt someone. Then you hurt two people. And one of them is yourself.

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Chronic Disease

Day 183 and Pain

I forget the contours of pain when I’m not in its grip. Such is it’s overwhelming power that pain is the only thing you can focus on when you are in it, but it melts away from your consciousness like snow on a sunny day the moment it dissipates. Pain is both all encompassing and a ghost on whom it is impossible to keep a grasp.

It’s not an original thought I have here that pain is challenging to articulate. Virginia Woolf wrote On Being Ill

but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to his doctor and language at once runs dry

I have an intellectual grasp on what is happening in my body. I can tell you what is happening in great detail. I take an immunosuppressant twice a month to keep the swelling in my upper thoracic spine down. These drugs makes me a bit more prone to infections as we need my immune system to be suppressed to prevent spinal swelling.

But when an infection takes hold my immune system fights back, the swelling in my spine comes back and the pain resurfaces. The pain will sneak up on me despite me being armed with all the knowledge about this cycle. It is still a surprise even knowing it is coming.

Yesterday I went to a doctor and got antibiotics. I came home and got into bed. And I got stuck. I couldn’t figure out what was happening to me. I’d been reduced to a consciousness unable to communicate with the outside word. I couldn’t even communicate to myself what steps needed to be taken next.

Whatever pain achieves, it achieves in part through its unsharability, and it ensures this unsharability through its resistance to language […] Physical pain does not simply resist language but actively destroys it, bringing about an immediate reversion to a state anterior to language, to the sounds and cries a human being makes before language is learned.

The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World, Elaine Scarry

I go from having full intellectual capacity to understand my situation and discuss it with others to being stripped of language within hours. I couldn’t even tell myself what needed to happen next. I was stuck in bed. I tried to watch television but couldn’t focus. I tried to play mobile games and couldn’t focus. I was slipping into pain’s grip. It was only a reminder from someone who loves me that I had been lost from this plane of consciousness. “You are in pain Julie.”

I am resistant to taking pain medications. But it’s less about fear of their addictive power or potency. I am resistant to needing their help. When I’m not in pain I have the capacity to “tough it out.” I am able to hold onto the idea that my mind has some agency over my body. But as pain takes over my senses, I lose my agency and willpower. Pain steals the broader parameters of your personhood. I resist taking pain medications because I do not belief it is possible for me to leave my personhood so completely that I need their help.

But I do need their help. My focus narrows to the pinpoint of pain as it’s intensity blooms. And I don’t even notice it happening. I go from independent human to small body gripped in suffering without any awareness of how it happened.

Any other locus of power or human capacity that I normally retain shrinks to fit around the intensity of the pain. I am not even able to seek relief. That would suggest I retain the critical thinking to recognize what my physicians have prescribed I take and the capacity to enact it. I need to be reminded to take a Tramadol. I need to be coaxed into an OxyContin.

And then relief slowly slips over my mind and body. We think of opioids as drugs that shrink your eyes to pinpricks but I experience their relief more like a dilation of the soul. As the constrictive point of all encompassing focus that is pain is relieved my entire world opens back up.

I regain my mind, my willpower, my focus, and feeling in my limbs. That’s something they don’t tell you about pain. When you are in it you won’t feel anything else. The pleasure of a stretch or the relief of a leisurely walk don’t exist in the same reality as pain. You go from having thousands of senses to just one. You only sense pain.

If this all sounds unfamiliar to you I pray that it stays that way. But if it comes to pass that you are gripped by this monster know that it is ok to relieve your pain. There is no morality to this ghost that takes over your entire world. The only moral good that comes from it will be created by you. Pain will overcome you. You become stuck in it. And sometimes it is within your power to break free.

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Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 168 and Red Queen Running

On a typical week I spend about 8 hours on health care appointments. This doesn’t include basic human maintenance like good nutrition, exercise and sleep. These are straight up hours I spend with health practitioners. It’s a lot.

I feel a little bad complaining about it as most people don’t have the opportunity to pursue some of the things that hold me together. The American medical system is built for those with spare money and time. But I’m envious of people who don’t spend all their spare time and money on healthcare. I cannot even imagine what I would get done if I was as healthy as the average person.

Regular people have the luxury of emotional dramas, personal hobbies and families. I on the other hand get to go to the doctor. I don’t get to stay up all night obsessing over men. I don’t have the capacity to raise children or parent. I don’t get to train for marathons. I’ve written before about the envy I feel for the lives of the fully able.

But mostly I resent that I have to spend so much time on my health just to maintain my progress. I feel like I’m trapped by the Red Queen in like Alice in Through the Looking Glass.

“Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.”

Lewis Carroll

Some might argue that having a disadvantage like this focuses you. I’ve become quite a charmer over the years to offset my physical disabilities. I do more in less time because I have to in order to compete. I’ve found ways to thrive in late stage capitalism. It’s entirely possible I’m not standing still.

There is a whole theory of evolutionary biology that these pressures just to maintain your place in the world are adaptive. In fact, it is called Red Queen theory. I guess just needing to work your ass off just to stand still is pretty normal.

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Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 162 and Reactivity

I’m sensitive to everything. Physically I mean. I’m surprisingly tolerant of emotional volatility, which means I’m well suited to entrepreneurial nonsense and financial chaos. Physically, on the other hand, I’m a hot house flower. Orchids have a wider band of tolerance than I do. If you don’t feed, water and rest me on a precise schedule I will cascade from blooming to dead in a few hours. Only a slight exaggeration.

I’ve got endless examples I can share. I can go from zero strain & a low heart rate when working out at 65 degrees to vascular distress and heart rate spikes at 75 degrees. When I was younger I would get drunk from one drink and now I can’t even have a sip of wine without turning beat red. If a drug has rare side effects I’m virtually guaranteed to get it. My doctors are pretty familiar with this now and like to make jokes about it. “Well .001 of patients experience thinning hair so you will probably go bald!”

On a day to day basis I hate this because it means I have a lot less flexibility to fuck around. I will find out. I need to keep strong rhythms and routines. And I can often spot when even a planned and positive therapy has negative consequences almost immediately.

For instance, I take an immune suppressing biologic every two weeks to keep my immune system from getting too worked up and causing inflammation. I’ve got ankylosing spondylitis which means the swelling shows up in my spine. It’s good to keep this suppressed. This drug lets me walk and live normally which is awesome! Yay! But on the day of my shot and about 24 hours after I feel like shit. I can literally feel my immune system getting shut down in real time. I’m sniffly, tired and slow today. While this is good in the long run, we want to keep my immune system down, I’m grumpy as fuck that I feel the effects of this drug.

The upside to this reactivity is even modest changes show up in my tracking tools. I can leverage many subtle therapies, diagnostics, treatments and supplements to significant effect. It’s probably a factor in my affection for biohacking. I can see results quickly. The feedback loops tend to be short and noticeable for me, which thanks to tracking many variables over a long time span, means I can isolate effects within relatively short order. So while I’m a pain in the ass patient I’m also a pretty emotionally satisfying one. If you make a correct diagnosis on me you will find out pretty fast. That’s so satisfying.

The irony of this short feedback loop reactivity is that I mostly work on longer term horizons and on extremely volatile things. Maybe it’s because I get the benefits of compounding because I have built up so many positive habits? I don’t get worked up by any individual data point because I’m used to seeing extreme reactions in myself. No big deal. I don’t mind chaos at all because I don’t have much chaos in my daily life because I’m constantly managing my own biology. Maybe I’m actually perfectly suited for my professional life now!

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Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 157 Brushing Your Teeth

I feel like I need a break from having daily obligations for a day or two (it was a big week) but I’m also a creator of routines and rhythm. When you’ve got a chronic disease you don’t get to skip stuff like your medication or healthy habits without some consequences.

One reason I don’t find myself burdened by writing something long form everyday is that I see it as a habit like taking vitamins, taking a daily walk or brushing my teeth. It’s just something you do.

But I can chose how much time I put into writing or how long I walk (though it seems prudent to let the electric toothbrush run it’s full 2 minute cycle). So I’m reminding myself today that it’s alright to keep today light. If you want something good to read I recommend the Thursday Style Problem.