For Everything There is a Season

"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

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Lifting Up My Voice

April 19, 2011 / / 6 Comments

“I don’t sing because I’m happy; I’m happy because I sing.” ~William James

Since my childhood years of going to mass every Sunday, I have always wanted to sing in a church choir. I know that is not exactly a very common ambition or goal for many people, but it has been for me. So many obstacles got in the way. First and foremost, if you want to sing in a church choir, you have to well, go to church. As an adult, I never attended a church on a regular basis until about five years ago when I made that oh so radical change from being a Catholic to becoming a member of the United Church of Christ. Also other things got in the way. I worked a lot of weekends as a nurse, I had stage fright (that was a big obstacle as a child/teenager!), I didn’t think I was good enough; the list goes on and on. That didn’t stop me from singing from my personal, safe little spot in the pew though on Sunday mornings.

Then I lost my job due to a medical illness and I was at church almost every Sunday morning. However part of my medical issues were problems with my breathing (asthma) and voice (vocal cord dysfunction) due to an autoimmune disorder. There was no way I could sing. Some days I couldn’t even talk on the phone it was so bad. As time went on and I finally got hooked up with a great pulmonologist, speech therapist, and acupuncturist, the breathing issues got more under control. Then I started to think (especially since I had so much speech therapy!) that maybe, just maybe I could pull it together enough to do some singing at church.

Around the same time, I was approached by my friend Kathy, who spent many years singing in our church choir and she assured me that the choir would love to have me whenever I could sing. There was a Christmas concert coming up and I figured what the heck, I had nothing to lose by trying. I have to admit, I did struggle quite a bit at first during the rehearsals last December. Between the Sunday morning church rehearsals and the Sunday evening hour long practices, I knew there was a possibility of backsliding. I was quite determined though. I worked hard on my speech therapy exercises to strengthen my vocal cords and was meticulous about doing everything my pulmonologist and acupuncturist instructed me to do. Sure enough, as the weeks went by, it gradually got easier and easier. The Christmas concert came and went. By February, it felt like the singing was actually making my breathing better and my vocal cords stronger. My pulmonologist was overjoyed and to be honest, so was I.

It is now April and we just had our Easter Cantata yesterday; approximately 4 ½ months since I joined the choir. It was a momentous morning for me. I sang through more than six songs and actually lived to tell about it! Not only did I sing, but I sang well. The day brought back memories from November 2008 and onward of multiple hospitalizations, weekly doctor’s visits, and the uncertainty of not knowing when my next emergency room visit would be. Funny how much can change in 2 ½ years.

It is so hard to try and put into words what singing with my church choir has done for me. It provides a more intimate way for me to worship God. It lifts my spirit and my soul when I struggle just with getting through the day. It has taught me patience, especially with myself (I can be my harshest critic). Singing with my choir has given me the opportunity to be a part of something bigger than myself. I have formed more cherished friendships. Every week I get to work with an incredible group of people to achieve a common goal: to lift up our voices in worship. And for that, I am quite grateful.

Taking Responsibility

April 1, 2011 / / 7 Comments

A man sooner or later discovers that he is the master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life. ~James Allen

I attended a conference the other day in which some statistics were presented about obesity rates in different parts of the world. It stated that women in the United States have an obesity rate of 36% which earned us the number one spot for modernized countries. For men, it was somewhere in the low 30’s. Seriously? Note that these are percentages for women who are obese, not just overweight. The difference is that to be obese, your body mass index (BMI) must be greater than 30%. The rates for the countries that scored lower on the list such as Japan and Korea were in the range of 5-7%. I am sure considering the drastic differences in the lifestyle habits between us and our Asian friends that no one finds these numbers surprising, but the reality is, it is a strong statement about the lifestyles that we live.

I don’t want this to be a blog about numbers though. It is about health, our health and the health of those that we love. We are an incredibly unhealthy society and I am no exception. I have been overweight (and then obese) since I hit puberty. At my highest weight, I was approximately 100 lbs. over what experts would consider a “normal” weight for me. The reasons for this were many: bad eating habits as a child, lack of exercise, antidepressent medications, autoimmune medications (especially steroids) and the big one-emotional eating. I developed what I think to be an addiction to sugar and processed foods. I come from a family where heart disease, diabetes, and especially cancer are rampant. I have a mother who has had ovarian and breast cancer (breast cancer has found to have obesity as a risk factor) which subsequently puts me in a high risk category. I myself am a cancer survivor and because of treatments I received, am at risk for secondary cancers. But yet, that didn’t stop me from consuming quarter pounders and french fries. Despite the insane amount of health problems I have had (many not weight related but that is besides the point-I was sick of being sick), I still threw crap like soda, fried food, cookies, candy, potato chips, etc. etc. into my body on a daily basis.

Because of many factors, I lost a good deal of weight over the past two years. Mostly because I dealt with my emotional eating issues (some of it in therapy) and no longer turn to food for my comfort. I was more physically active by walking my dog on a semi regular basis. I was cooking more at home. The reality though was this: I was still overweight (technically still “obese”). I was still unhealthy. Even though I had made some great strides with Chinese medicine in dealing with the autoimmune disorder, I was still plagued with pain and fatigue. I was sick of being sick. I was sick of craving crappy foods. I wanted to be able to get through a day like everyone else. I wanted to learn to ballroom dance. I wanted to be fit. I wanted to be healthy. I needed to take responsibility.

So about a month or so ago, I decided to take responsibility for my body. I have spent an obscene amount of time reading, researching, and figuring out how to get myself out of this hole that so many of us have fallen into. A lot of it is mental. I really wasn’t sure I had the capability to be healthy and fit. I didn’t think I had the capability?!? How sad is that? That’s ridiculous Yes, I may have some physical limitations but for whatever I lack in that area, I make up for in intelligence and determination! I mentioned this to my boyfriend (the not being able to do it part) while we were watching the Biggest Loser one night and he just looked me right in the eye and said he thought I could do it. He thought I could lose that last 40 lbs. and be fit. Like they say, sometimes you just need one person to truly believe in you…

I will not diet. I strongly feel that dieting is harmful to not only a person’s body, but also to their soul. What I did do is change my nutrition. After I had started acupuncture last November, I had made some changes such as cutting soda out of my diet (one of the hardest things I have ever done) already, but I needed a big overhaul. So I have begun eating I guess what is called a “clean” diet. I am trying to focus on fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and lean proteins. My goal is to reduce (and hopefully eliminate) processed foods. That is what makes us unhealthy and fat. I try to eat organic as much as possible. I am not perfect at it but I do the best I can and try to be patient with myself. It’s a learning process.

Exercise has now become a regular part of my life. I stalked Planet Fitness’s website for a while waiting for a good promotion so I could afford to join a gym. I prefer to spend time outside walking my dog, but I figured the gym would give me a place to exercise so I have no excuses for when it is raining, snowing, too hot, or too cold outside. I do live in New England after all! I also wanted to see if I could build up some muscle strength by using weight machines. The exercise part has been very tough for me to figure out in terms of my joints, fatigue, etc. I have to closely monitor what I’m doing and when I am doing it in order not to overdo it. But I just keep telling myself that research has proven beneficial for joint pain as well as asthma so I keep at it. I do think it will get easier as time goes on.

So that’s my story…and I’m sticking to it! I have to admit, it is not an easy story to blog about (who wants to admit that their BMI is over 30??) but I figure that I am not alone. I can’t be alone. Over 1/3 of us are obese in this country. Some people say they are OK with that, being obese or overweight. They say that they only live once, so they are going to enjoy their daily diet of double cheeseburgers and french fries. To that I say: power to you. Me? I only live once too. And you can sure bet that I am going to enjoy the hell out of it for as long as I possibly can. And it’s all going to start by taking responsibility.

The Hallmark Holiday

February 14, 2011 / / 0 Comments

“I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.” ~Author Unknown

OK, Valentine’s Day is just a terrible holiday. I am not sure exactly when I began to feel so strongly about this fact but I do. My personal feelings mostly revolve around the fact that it is a commercial holiday aimed at draining our wallets and making us question our worthiness depending on whether we have an actual “valentine” or not.

My views on this even surprise me as I tend to be a glass half-full/embrace happiness as much as possible type of person. I’m a romantic. I’m emotional. But to me, the problem with Valentine’s Day is that it sends a message that love has to be romantic. How many commercials on TV do you see with a woman celebrating a loving friendship with a female friend? Or a son expressing his love for his mother? I know, I know, you can find cards for this type of thing in the Hallmark section such as “To My Parents on Valentine’s Day” but the reality is, that isn’t what the intended purpose of Valentine’s Day is in our society today. Maybe part of my issue with the day is that it is telling me this is the day I should be expressing my love for my partner when in actuality, I try (and most of the time succeed!) in doing that every single day.

So on February 14th, you fall into one of two traps: the single person who is left figuring out if they should spend the holiday in a bottle of scotch or a pint of ice cream. Or you could be the person in a relationship trying to make sure that you don’t screw up. All of a sudden, the decision between roses, candy, and jewelry becomes overwhelming on this one day of the year. More often than not, it becomes a challenge to live up to the expectations.

This initially presented quite a dilemma to me this year because I am in love, real love. Like the kind that makes every day a joyous experience and more often than not, makes me wonder how I got through the last 39 years without him. All of a sudden, this year, it became ever MORE important to bypass Valentine’s Day because as dorky as this sounds, it felt like it would take something away from every other day of the year, which are just as much like Valentine’s Day should be as February 14th pretends to be.

He makes me chicken soup when I am sick. He sends e-mails from work in the middle of the day. He surprises me with mystery dates. He holds my hand at funerals. He listens to me rant and rave (even about Valentine’s Day!). He encourages my dreams. He knows when to hold me. He knows when to give me space. Even though he wanted to and knew I would go along with it, he volunteered to not celebrate Valentine’s Day; knowing how strongly I feel about it. I know that many people can celebrate Valentine’s Day and still show their love for each other at other times during the year but for me, not making a big deal out of February 14th means that February 15th (and even September 15th) will be something to look just as forward to….

Acupuncture Part One:The Experience

January 26, 2011 / / 5 Comments

I have had several people ask me about my new found love with Chinese medicine and I have had such incredibly positive experiences with it that I have decided to do a several part series on my different experiences with Chinese medicine. It is not intended to be a thorough explanation of Chinese medicine but rather just my own personal experiences and thoughts about it. I hope it is helpful!

I am not sure when I first started considering acupuncture as a potential treatment modality for a “yet to be named although we think it is Sjogren’s Disease” autoimmune disorder. What I do know is that despite having many more good days than I had originally when this whole nightmare started, I still had ongoing issues that prevented me from holding down a job, never mind trying to carry on with my life in a way that many people take for granted. I was sick of taking a cabinet full of medications and dealing with the oftentimes crippling side effects of them, all in the interest of getting me “well”.

I started doing some research on acupuncture to try and find out more about it. I was afraid of the unknown. I am a nurse by profession and still held some traditional views about health, healing and medicine, despite the fact that Western medicine was not living up to what I needed it to do for this chronic autoimmune disorder. I will be honest-I was not too big on getting multiple needles stuck into me. I started talking about thinking of going for acupuncture on Facebook and a friend of mine suggested a clinic nearby that had a sliding fee scale. She had some success with it and encouraged me to check it out. Since I was out of work, I was very concerned about the cost of treatments and I figured maybe the sliding fee scale might help with that. I made an appointment with The People’s Acupuncture Clinic in Amherst, MA for a consultation and so it began.

I have been caught up in the medical system as a patient on a full-time basis for three full years now with this particular illness (I have also had adventures with heart surgery, cancer, and a few other less serious diagnoses previously) so I figured I had nothing to lose by checking it out and doing one treatment. I was pleasantly surprised by the whole experience. The acupuncturist I saw (Ben) reviewed a pretty extensive health history with me. I had to laugh though at the part where I had to list my top three complaints/symptoms. I mean really, just three??? I could rattle off ten right off the top of my head but in the end, I decided on the three that were keeping me out of work: joint pain, breathing difficulties, and fatigue.

So here I was getting ready for some guy I didn’t know (but who seemed very knowledgeable as well as nice) to start playing voodoo with me. Then I started to think, what if he puts one somewhere he shouldn’t? What if he hits a nerve or something? OK, in all reality they don’t go deep enough to do that but I didn’t realize that at the time.

OK, to start with, the needles didn’t hurt. I’ll admit that since my first treatment, I have had a few instances when because of some sensitivity, a needle has hurt; but it all depends on your definition of “hurt”. To me, feeling like someone is using a sledgehammer on my wrist joints “hurts”. Someone sticking a scope into my lungs “hurts”. A needle feeling sharp for like a nanosecond, doesn’t really qualify as pain to me. Sometimes it passes instantly and if it doesn’t he takes it out. It is quite different than a traditional needle though. They are thin and very flexible. Those few instances they have been uncomfortable are not actually from the needle itself, but related to the area itself where it is being put in. Sometimes it is sensitive because it’s that time of the month (I am more sensitive then) or because the point he is treating is particularly painful that day. My feeling about this is though that I have a history (until maybe a year or two ago) of being so needle phobic that if I can handle having 8-15 needles (depending on the treatment) put in, anyone can!

The acupuncture experience itself is surreal in a way. Everyone reacts differently but it is truly one of the most relaxing experiences ever. It’s better than alcohol and tranquilizers! I know many people fall asleep for the hour, but I never have. I remember the first few treatments, I seriously felt like I had taken a handful of Ativan or some heavy duty sleep medicine. And yes, I can draw the comparison…I’ve had experience with both unfortunately! OK maybe not with a HANDFUL but you get the idea.

I am aware of what is going on around me but I just melt into the chair at the same time. I have had treatments where I feel like I am floating. I have experienced vibration sensations in parts of my body and itching. I have felt my mouth watering which is significant since I was having a constant dry mouth. Sometimes I feel this warmth go through my body. Oh wait, that may be the heating lamp over my feet. Anyways, I can tell that things are happening to my body and it all feels good. For a whole hour, I am actually at peace with my body and trust me, you cannot beat an experience like that….

Life changes

January 11, 2011 / / 1 Comment

“Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes.” ~ Hugh Prather

It never ceases to amaze me how much my life is constantly changing. For so long, I thought it was changing for the worse; between divorce, illness, job loss, home loss, dog loss…it was all so much. After all these events occurred in one really lousy year, I had to learn to live my life again, differently. As many people close to me know, it was a life changing year for me and one in which I never expected to have so many positive outcomes come from but during the process, I found myself.
In the process of this finding myself, I reconnected with old friends and made new ones. I experienced the joy of living alone. I learned to rely on myself. I became more assertive and took more risks. I learned how to live my life and not let it live me.
In the midst of all this, I began dating again. However after more first dates than I care to recall and some poor decisions on my part which led to heartbreak, I decided that in the end, I was happier alone. I had no intention of getting close enough to a potential partner again to actually try and build a life with them. Who needed them? Not me. To be honest, while dating for about two years after separating from my ex-husband, I realized my life was full as it was. I didn’t need a partner to feel complete. And I definitely did not need the aggravation.

So of course when I was least expecting it, what do you think happened? I fell in love. Totally and completely head over heels in love to the point that I now doubt if I was ever really in love before. My boyfriend became not only my love, but my best friend. Being in love is wonderful. With it though, comes change and all of a sudden, my life changed yet again.
I had to learn to trust again, to think of someone besides myself on a daily basis again, and to shop with someone else while not going off on my own the whole time! One of the hardest things I had to learn though was how to lean on a partner. Don’t get me wrong; I have wonderful family and friends who I have been able to lean on often for support, but I have never had a partner who supports me the way my boyfriend does. I don’t always have to be the strong one in a crisis. I can cry. I can freak out. I can mourn. I can let him in. He won’t run away.
So where has this relationship brought me? I am now in the process of moving to his (OK “our”) home. Family and a few friends are surprised and I don’t blame them. We have only been dating for four months. If it was a friend of mine, I would probably tell them they are crazy. I would hate to tell them that we started talking about moving in together about six weeks into the relationship! But it is like they say, when you know, you know. The first time we discussed it, I wasn’t quite ready. I knew I would be eventually, but I wasn’t ready to give up my 2-3 nights/week home alone! As it was, I had to switch my “Friday night dance party” to a weeknight once my new love and I started spending the weekends together.
Yes, on a semi-regular basis (usually when I need to get some rest for the weekend and have to stay in), I crank up my IPOD on my stereo, open up a cold bottle of Blue Moon beer and dance/sing like an idiot with my dog in the living room. Then I open another Blue Moon and talk with friends on the phone or online. The dog loves it…she howls like a fool while I am dancing and singing away; quite a spectacle! But I digress…
About six weeks ago though, I knew I was ready to start sharing my precious living space. I realized that singing at the top of my lungs and dancing with my dog to very loud music would be more fun with my boyfriend. I was ready to give up my beloved apartment and work with him to make his home “ours” in whatever ways I needed to make it comfortable for me. More importantly, I also realized that he would give me the space I needed to keep my identity as a person, especially in terms of my other friendships. I wanted to share my life with him and not just a few nights a week and weekends. He wasn’t filling a void in my life, he was adding to the beauty of it.
I will admit, I am a little scared. Not of living with him. Although I am sure we will have our stumbling blocks, I am very secure in the knowledge that whatever difficulties we will encounter, we can work through them. At first I was concerned my “dark side” would send him packing but reality is, he is in it for the long haul ,as am I. Plus he has seen my dark side now and still has let me move stuff in!
No, the fear is that little voice in the back of my head that says this is too good to be true and moving in together is very symbolic of how serious our relationship is. Sometimes I just sit back and think “how did I get so lucky?” Not because I don’t think I deserve to be happy or deserve to with someone as wonderful as him; I do. But when you have experienced so much loss and heartbreak, it can make it difficult to sit back and accept that life does not always have to end up with loss and heartbreak. Sometimes life (and God) can bring two people together who were meant for each other and they can begin the journey of learning to live a new life…together.
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