So, I’ve totally dropped the ball on keeping up with this blog. It’s been a year and a half since my last post about not wanting to take my meds. Perhaps it is apropos that that was my last post, since it is now a year and a half later, and in a few days I will be celebrating life one year meds free!

Meds free?! you say? But you have a chronic illness, that does’t go away….. That is what I thought until I completely changed my life. Now, what I’m about to say is NOT meant to be medical advice. I’m not trying to tell you to stop your meds. This  just happened to work for me, and I believe that it is possible for other people too… that being said, I’m going to get on with my story.

Let me start by explaining where I was health-wise in the summer of 2009: I was fat. I believe the AMA would even have called me obese.  I was taking a TON of meds (see my last post, linked above), my masto wasn’t under control (I had better days then before I was diagnosed and medicated, but certainly wasn’t living a chronic illness free life), I had acid reflux (better with the barrage of meds but still present), and my body hurt. All the time. Specifically, my lower back and left hip hurt all the time. So much so that walking down the street hurt my back, and I was incapable of falling asleep at night without taking some sort of NASAID (at least 3 200 mg pills if not 4. Some nights I took as many as 8 or 10).

The pain got to the point that I was desperate. I had moments when I could understand why people become drug addicts… anything to stop the pain. So I made an appointment at the pain clinic at the hospital. I got a MRI, x-rays etc. They decided the best course of action was to give me something similar to cortisone shots in my spine and hips. The story of that process is a whole other thing so I’ll leave it this: I got the shots. The pain went away. I went for a 5 mile hike, it was amazing. The shots were supposed to last for 3-6 months. They lasted for 5 weeks.

So, after 5 weeks, when the pain came back, I had a total melt down. I couldn’t go through getting the shots again, especially not to get them every 5 weeks for the rest of my life. And I couldn’t live with the pain anymore. At this point, I was staying with my Dad and Step-mom and she is a chiropractor and Feldenkrais practitioner. She is also a strong believer in alternative medicine, and actually hates western medicine. So we started talking about my alternative options.

The story of everything that has happened between that conversation and where I am now is for another day and probably many posts. But I will leave you with this: today I am meds free, I have NO masto symptoms, I only get acid reflux on a rare occasion and I know what causes it, I am a healthy weight (I never dieted) and I am mostly pain free.

The main things I attribute this miraculous change in circumstance to are: a complete change in lifestyle, a change of diet, and acupuncture. There have been many other alternative healings that have helped pave the way, but those are the main ones. I will explain more in near future posts. Promise

A girlfriend and student of mine turned me on to the Chronic Illness Cat, a sort of LOL catz for chronics. The pal has her own chronic status and we bonded over that — it’s amazing how you find the support that you need, when you need it. But I digress.

Chronic Illness Cat cracked me up, especially this one.  What Chronic Twenty-something hasn’t been told, “but you don’t look sick.” I’ve had people tell me I must be lying (thanks for your compassion, jerk).

Regardless, it’s so nice to be able to have a laugh about it.  Where do you go for a good chuckle when you’re down?

In yoga, we talk about creating space between breaths.  As a chronic, I’m all about creating space between flare ups.  The space between is the sweet spot.

It’s what I try to remember when I’m uncomfortable in the morning. There’s space between pain and swelling.  There’s space between the meds and relief.  There’s always a space.

Lately, I’ve been fortunate enough to have lots of space between my discomfort.  It’s interesting.  When there’s a good deal of space between the pain, you can almost forget that you’re chronic.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t go away that easily. While we can enjoy the space between, we must be prepared to live through wherever we are, whatever we’re feeling.  You can look to the space between for hope.

I had a unique experience the other day.  I was talking to a yoga student before class, and she was telling me that some days it’s just harder to get there, to practice. Was she hinting at a chronic condition? 

Either way, I empathized with that.  Practicing in the morning, when my RA is flaring up is incredibly challenging.  So to encourage her for coming, and to let her know she could nurture herself as much as she needed to in her practice, I told her about having RA. 

The woman I was speaking to was considerably older than I.  She had kids, a family, and she said to me, “Wow.  You’re my hero, that you could get up and be here with that disease.” 

I was happy that sharing my story did encourage her in her practice.  She then shared that she also has arthritis and it can be hard. 

Now, I’m no hero, but the whole experience got me thinking. 

• For all the people getting up in the morning, and walking to the bathroom, even when it hurts to press down on your feet, you’re my hero. 
• For all the people respecting the fact that Chronic physical abilities change daily (as does everyone else’s) and knowing when to rest, you’re my hero. 
• For all the people playing through pain or fatigue induced brain-fog, you’re my hero.
• For all the people participating in research studies to make this disease less prevalent, painful or for an eventual cure, you’re my hero.

It feels good to be someone’s hero.  Whether or not you completely believe it, try to acknowledge your strength in getting through this experience.  RA is not a human universal, but being chronic another challenge to the randomness of existing.