Posts Tagged Balance
I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis or Rheumatoid Autoimmune Disease when I was 29. It’s an awkward age to be told you have a chronic disease.
There was so much I hadn’t yet accomplished. At the time, I was single, struggling to get my business off the ground, training for a marathon, and pushing thoughts of kids and marriage into the future. And then, a diagnosis of RA threw all that up in the air.
I feel like the pieces are still settling, four years later.
I got back together with a long-term boyfriend, largely because of my diagnosis. When I needed him, he was there without question. All the issues we’d had in the past paled to how much we obviously cared for each other, and that remains true today.
I pushed through a lot of ups and down and pain to cross the finish line of my first marathon. Today, I still run. Though training for a second marathon has faltered twice due to pain, I still have it in the back of my mind as a goal.
I tried to manage my business, while attempting to lower stress (doctors orders, and so much easier said than done in the world of start-ups!). The business is now doing better than ever, but stress management remains a constant struggle.
And then there’s kids…
I always figured I’d be a mother someday. I was never in a rush about it, but down the line, raising a family was always something I imagined for myself. After my diagnosis of RA, I suddenly found myself in a new reality.
When you have a name for the pain you’ve been experiencing, it becomes unavoidably real. There was no more blaming running or snowboard injuries. I couldn’t blindly keep pushing myself. I had pain walking and writing, bone erosions that no amount of medication could erase, extreme fatigue that was even causing me to fall asleep at work, a whacked-out GI tract that led to weight loss and avoiding eating all together, and depression because I had no idea why any of the above were happening to me. With a diagnosis came the answer of why, but it also brought the necessity to slow everything down and focus on getting better.
The new reality also meant being placed on strong drugs to control my symptoms, including a chemotherapy drug that is used to induce abortions in ectopic pregnancies. This particular drug requires women to be off of it for an extended period of time before even attempting to get pregnant.
Suddenly, I was far less sure I would ever be a parent. Four years of focusing on my health, coming to terms with living with chronic disease, and finding a new normal has given me the space to seriously revisit the question of parenthood.
Huge questions still exist for me. These are questions that only those of us living with chronic illness and our partners can understand.
Will I be healthy enough to go through pregnancy? If I ween off my RA drugs, will I return to the level of pain I was at pre-diagnosis? Will I be able to stay off the drugs long enough to breastfeed? If I can successfully have one child, will I be able to have another? Will pregnancy make my symptoms worse or better? Will post-pregnancy change my disease trajectory? Will the drugs I’m on be as effective post pregnancy? Will my RA slow me down as a parent? Will I pass the genetic disposition for autoimmune diseases on to my kids?
To help me navigate the complexities of this big decision, I’m reading Arthritis, Pregnancy and the Path to Parenthood by Suzie Edward May.
I’ve only just started the book, but I already identify with Suzie so well. She was diagnosed at 27 before having kids. The book offers a lot of hope, but also non-sugar-coated truth. I’ll give a more complete review when I finish it.
In the meantime, can anyone weigh in on what factors you looked at when deciding to become a parent while living with a chronic disease?
First off, my apologies for being off the radar for, well, months.
My work has been busy and I’ve been trying to finish up my second novel. (If anyone has any interest in checking out my first book, you can find it here.)
It’s left me with little motivation to write this blog after busy days that include a lot of time in front of the computer. In fact, I’ve spent many nights these past few months just being exhausted and having a great relationship with Netflix.
On to the good stuff.
I was recently at a dinner and found out through that a person close to me might have Lyme Disease. I was listening to her symptoms – sore joints, fatigue, depression – and told her I understand how a lot of these symptoms feel and that she should call me if I want to talk.
To which she responded, “But you’re better, right?”
She’s not the first person I’ve heard this from. I’ve heard it from friends and family, those who should really understand chronic disease better. And I get it. They see me and I look healthy — I go to work, get exercise, write, travel. I don’t complain like I used to before I had a diagnosis.
I’m better, right?
Well, not exactly. “Better” suggests “cured” and I think that’s how most people mean it. But in the world of chronic disease and Rheumatoid Arthritis, cured is not really part of our reality (Yet! So much exciting medical research is happening right now!).
So how can you balance educating people, but not causing those close to you worry -OR- come off as complaining?
Honestly, I’m not sure.
I responded by saying that my drug therapy allows me to manage my disease and I feel much, much better than I did before treatment. This is the truth. I balance pain, fatigue, new limits, and, yes, even depression from time to time. I tweak my drug regimen constantly to take the least amount of drugs possible while managing my pain. I take two heavy-duty drugs weekly just to keep a semi-normal life and I get blood panels regularly to make sure my liver’s keeping up.
I don’t feel cured, but I do feel better.
So, what about you? How do you handle the “Aren’t you better yet?” line?
Last weekend I was nonstop – a lots of yoga, a pretty tough hike, a 10K on Memorial Day, tons of walking. I felt REALLY GOOD.
I think I’m paying for it now though. My symptoms began flaring a bit Tuesday and I thought it was just recovery from the 10K. Now however, I’m sitting at my computer, putting off starting my day because I have some morning stiffness I haven’t had in a long while and my wrists are hurting again, ugh. Not to mention I’ve just been extra tired since Thursday – missing workouts and (trying) to go to bed early.
I know it shouldn’t, but whenever my pain feels more acute than normal, my mind goes into what I call “spiral of doom” thinking. Oh my god, the meds aren’t working… Permanent damage is happening. Right. Now. I’ll be disabled. I’ll be in a wheelchair. I’ll have to quit my job. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I’m trying to catch myself when I get into this thinking and replace it with other thoughts. Having symptoms reappear is totally normal. It doesn’t mean you’re getting worse. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re spending a lot more time feeling better than feeling bad. One bad day or week does not null and void your progress.
I just can’t help but wonder if I caused the flare by pushing myself too hard. It’s frustrating though because when I feel good, I don’t want to slow down or hold back. Anyone have advice for striking that balance?