Archive for March, 2010

Four Days

It was the sinus infection in early March that really made me question my body.  I understood why my face hurt, I understood the throbbing in my head.  Those things made sense to me. The intense migraines for days on end, the incredible vertigo that bound me to a wheel chair in the doctors office, and the way I could not even walk across the room unassisted did not make sense to me.  My patient sister with the natural nursing instinct kept me on a steady stream of medicine, toast, and crackers.  Day after day I got worse.  The doctor gave me a stronger antibiotic, and still I worsened.  It was not until I left the shelter of the sick bed she made for me on her couch and returned to my own walls and my own food that I began to heal again.  I didn’t understand then, the diet I had begun in interest of shedding pounds had limited amounts of gluten. Slowly I had begun to heal my intestines.  I had feared those crackers and that toast might add pounds back to my more slender frame.  I did not know at the time that the damage they were causing was far worse than a few added pounds.  They had triggered the intestinal response to gluten, and they were to blame for the vertigo and the migraines.  It was a week and a half I was so terribly ill.  It took only a few days of eating my unintentionally less glutenous food to heal.

The memory of that spurred me to try this gluten free diet.  It’s only been four days.  I should wait longer, before making the leap I am about to make.  I can’t though.  I know.

It may only be four days, but they are four glorious days.  Four days without one single head ache after having lived with them every day for over a decade tells me everything I need to know.  Four days of sleeping blissfully, even when I don’t drink a glass of wine tells me.  Four days of feeling like bouncing out of my skin with joy because I’m not exhausted tells me.  Four days of feeling lighter than I ever have, tells me everything that matters to me right now.
This is after FOUR DAYS.  Where will I be in four months, four years?  I joyfully anticipate what will be unwrapped in the days and months to come now that the gift of health can be restored to my body.

Hope was first a small light, calling me deeper into the pages of the web.  Now it floods brilliantly bright and I know something I did not know before.  I will not simply decay, my body failing more and more with each passing birthday.  I can do something about it, and I can live.  I can really live.  Not live “despite” but simply live.


A Reason?

I enjoy the process of gathering data.  It spurs my mind and gives me a longing thirst for more.  Today I went back to her archives for the third day in a row and gleefully ingested more words stopping every so often to cut and paste a recipe into Word and print it for my ever growing binder of culinary delights.  I’ve only worked my way through the first year of her posts.  It was there, buried five years deep I read this . . .

And for all of you reading who suffer with me on this. There are a lot of us out there. We aren’t just crazy.

My eyes fill with unexpected tears as the breath rushed out of my lungs.

There is a reason.

Could it really be?  Could there be a reason for the infertility that my file says was “unexplained”?  A reason for the constant pain, the never healing body?  A reason minor bruises last months and cuts last weeks?  A reason, other than the often blamed stress, that the constant headaches so often turn to blinding migraines?  A reason the anxiety hit so hard and so out of the blue?  While I’m certain hormones played a role, is it possible that hormones alone were not the only cause?  A reason that I could go days never remembering to eat a single bite of food.  No one ever understood that about me, but I was simply never hungry.

It would make everything fit.  This one piece, this one little fact would explain all of it.  Surgery often triggers celiac into an activity.  The hysterectomy that freed me from one sort of pain invited the continuing onslaught of another sort of pain.  Everything would tie together in such amazing ways.

For all these years I have heard the doctors mutter “too young”.  Too young for bones to be as they are, too young for infertility, too young for endometriosis, too young for osteochondritis dissecans, too young for the endo to be the worst case the surgeon had seen, too young for my teeth to decay the way they do, too young for Vitamin D levels so low.  Too young. I’ve heard it from doctors, nurses, nurse practioners, dentists, and dental assistants.  Every white lab coated person I have ever met has uttered those words. They were right.  I was too young.

I just wonder, was there a reason after all?