Monday Dog Blog: In Asher's Memory

Pastel of Asher

I know it's been more than two years since we said goodbye to our Asher Dasher, but he's still here in our memories every day. 

I love the ways we keep his memory alive.

Paw Print Necklace

He would have been 15 over the weekend. My friend, Kristen, sent me this paw print necklace when he died, and I have worn it so much since then. We're never ready to say goodbye to our fur babies, and I wore this necklace every day for several months to keep him close to my heart.

Such a simple gift. Such a powerful impact.

I still wear the necklace, especially on his Gotcha Day and birthday. 

Looks JUST Like Him!

Another friend, Marge, gifted us with this incredible likeness of Asher--a pastel done by one of her friends. She used one of my favorite photos of Asher enjoying his time outside, sniffing the air, and resting in the cool grass.

The Framing and Matting Came out Beautifully

We were so happy with how the framing came out as well.

Tovah Rose Approves

I see this piece of artwork every day, as it hangs in our living room. 

Isn't it gorgeous? Doesn't it look just like Asher?

It's perfect.

Salvia

Marge also gave us a salvia plant that has grown larger and larger in the garden!

Gershwin Hangs Out In the Garden

Gershwin loved his big brother so much, I thought this was a perfect moment.

Memorial Stone

My massage therapist's husband does work on granite and was able to make a memorial for me.

Part of the Garden

I love that Asher has been memorialized so beautifully. I worked on it over a long period of time...finding a picture for the pastel, getting it framed, getting the stone engraved, etc. 

I still haven't had the courage to actually bury his ashes in the yard. They are still in their pretty little box. 

Maybe this summer.

Saw This Street Sign Last Year When on Vacation!

Thank you to Marge and Kristen for helping me to makes Asher's memory an even more beautiful blessing! 

Happy birthday to my protector up in doggy heaven.

We miss you.

Blessings,

Emily

Great Girl Time With Marla!

Going OUT to Dinner!

Today, I'm resting, recuperating and reflecting on a special visit from Marla.

This girl. She is the best.

Marla has been one of the most faithful of friends on this journey. 

We met freshman year of college in our eating house and by senior year we were roommates. I missed out on being a bridesmaid or attending her wedding. I have never met her children in person. I haven't seen her husband, a fellow Davidson grad, since graduation. I've never been able to visit her.

Marla just remains steadfast and loyal through it all. 

Painted Nails

She's been here to visit several times, including during the Year of the Pajama. She's been here when all I could do was sit in the recliner for a little while and chat. The rest of the time she would read, rest, run or chat with my mom.

She loves Mama Renee. They chat. Mom feeds Marla 'on the hour'. 

I am just so happy about this particular visit with Marla. It's the first time I haven't been suffering through the visit. I don't think we ever even left the house on any of her other visits. She was last here three years ago, right before my major improvements began.

We Enjoyed the La Crema at Dinner (I Discovered 2 Glasses is, um, Too Much!)

We had real honest to goodness fantastic girl time.

We painted our nails together. We gabbed. We watched a movie together (My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2). We went shopping at Ulta and she helped me pick out new eye make-up and body scrub and foot scrub. She introduced me to all sorts of fun new products. We went to the wine store and she showed me all kinds of fun wines to try and treated Mom and I to some wines she likes. We went out to dinner at my favorite Thai and Sushi restaurant. We went shopping at a little local gallery shop. I drove her all around in town in my little Red Curry. I picked her up and dropped her off at the airport.

Saying Goodbye at the Airport

I have missed out on girl time like this. And my heart is so full. This is what I imagine a girls weekend to really be like--sharing experiences like watching chick-flicks, painting nails, going shopping for make-up. 

And talking. A lot. A whole lot. 

Marla, my friend, thank you. You have made such incredible efforts to maintain this friendship, even when I cannot. You sing my song for me when I cannot. You move mountains to make visits happen. And you keep coming back so that we can renew our friendship over and over. We grow and learn together. Nothing beats face-to-face, one-on-one time together.

I love you.

Blessings,

Emily

The Wisdom of the Good Doctor: A Taste of Freedom and Warp Speed

Peonies

As I've begun to share in my blog, some parts of the healing process have brought on surprising, difficult and challenging emotions for me. I'm struggling to learn to know when I need to rest, both because rest is scary and because I am used to judging needing rest based on a very different level and type of fatigue. I am finding myself in a place of recognizing that I'm still chronically ill. This means that I must continue my focus on healing and maintaining my health, while enjoying new pleasures and outings within my limitations. I feel increasingly constrained by the demands of my body. New to my emotions of grief and sadness have been those of anger and resentment over the 18 years I have lost and the time I still need to heal. I'm deeply sad about dreams that have become closer to my reach, but remain untouchable.

Originally Gifted To Us As Two Small Bunches (One Pink, One White)
By a Beloved Neighbor and One of the Strongest Women I Have Ever Known,
The Peonies Continue To Spread In Our Yard

It's not that I don't have a great deal of joy and gratitude, but I am also facing many new challenges and decisions very quickly. This has left me struggling with feeling down and with an uptick in anxiety over making good choices and over the uncertainties I face in making such decisions. Sometimes the intensity of the anxiety about making choices and decision pulls me out of living in the present and enjoying what I do have.

It may seem difficult to understand (it is to me) why feeling better would not just result in pleasure and joy. Why does healing often come with feelings of fear, anxiety and frustration? 

It is so easy to want more and to want it now. I think this is a normal human tendency. It is so so easy to do what Dr. Rowe said I would easily do: be too greedy with my new freedom.

It's amazing how quickly I find myself raising my expectations, feeling unsatisfied with what I have, falling into the trap of the "hedonic treadmill" my friend describes, and working constantly to rest instead in being satisfied with what I do have. The good news is, I always get back to my happiness set point. 

In addition to facing these emotions, my overall well-being has slumped a bit the past few weeks and we are, again, trying to figure out what is going on. My sleep has been poor, fatigue has increased, I've been waking up to pee 2-4 times a night and my concentration is worse. 

What is likely going to be a normal part of life from now on--ups and downs in the healing process, tweaking and re-tweaking meds--is very very scary. I'm so afraid I'll go back to being really sick again. I miss feeling better and enjoying things more. 

I've spent a lot of time discussing these emotions with Evelyn, blogging about some of them, getting incredible feedback from my readers (thank you!), and trying to take more time to myself to process.

When I let Dr. Rowe know what I was feeling (as described above) he wrote the most incredible words of wisdom. 

They were so powerful, as his words so often are, that I asked if I could share them on my blog. 

I Look Forward To Them Every Spring

The emotional changes are really common. It is as if you are facing a lot of normal choices we have to make in life, but at warp speed. My other patients also face similar emotions as they transition to a healthier level of activity. Once they are out of the prison that illness imposes, if they ever have a drop-off in function (even if it is slight, and nowhere near as bad as when they were at their sickest), they feel it and are intensely frustrated by it, more completely than if they never left prison at all. A taste of freedom that is then revoked can be tougher than no freedom at all.

The other thing that you are facing at warp speed is the normal adult process of closing doors with each life decision. Some doors can be re-opened later, but in reality, most career doors can’t due to the costs and time already invested in the path chosen. The same goes for a variety of the personal choices, I think. The difference is that we usually get to adjust to these lost options in a very gradual manner.

And I Remember Mary Sanders

As I read these words, I cried--in gratitude for this man who is so much more than a physical healer, for these words that validated and affirmed my feelings, and for this understanding that comes as such a gift to Dr. Rowe. Chronic illness is a multi-dimensional experience--filled with unique physical, emotional and spiritual challenges that very few in this world truly understand. The relief I feel when someone 'gets' it is huge, which is why my friendships with others who share my illness have been so vital.

Freedom tasted. Freedom revoked. Warp speed. Closing doors. 

How much freedom will I taste in this life? How long will my revoked freedom last? Will I get out of this prison soon? How fast are the doors closing? What new doors will open instead? How do I make good decisions at warp speed? Will I regret not making a decision soon enough? Or making one too soon? 

Freedom tasted. Freedom revoked. Warp speed. Closing doors. 

It's like a tape playing over and over in my head. Some nights I can't sleep from the anxiety of it all.

Will I find my way?

Of course I will.

I always do. Over and over. Time and again. I do it. No matter how scary it is.

May I find the freedom joyful.

 May I rest when it is revoked.

May I close the doors that need to be closed.

May I open the doors that will fulfill me in new ways.

May I feel peace.

Blessings,

Emily

Monday Dog Blog: Happy Birthday Mr. Gershwin!

Baby Boy: November 3, 2012

This sweet little boy is all grown up now.

July 24, 2016

November 3, 2012

But he's still the biggest cuddle bug ever.

Gershwin had a pretty good birthday, I think.

He got two new toys, some treats and a fun set to practice his agility moves.

We set up the weave poles and tunnel outside right away.

These two love the tunnel!

Gershwin also really loves the new moose. 

I really can't believe both of these puppies are four. Time is going by way too quickly!

I love this little guy so much my heart bursts. He is the best cuddler EVER. His sweet soulful eyes melt my heart.

Gershwin would like to send out a special birthday wish to his brother/littermate, Buddha!

Happy Monday!

Blessings,

Emily

Arts Fest: Shopping and Visiting

Me and Elizabeth

For the third year in a row, I was able to make a trip to our wonderful festival of the arts.

We went down for a bit on Thursday evening and again on Friday evening when the weather was a bit cooler.

First up, I got to visit with my favorite jeweler, Elizabeth.

Fest (Pic Courtesy of Jess)

Three years ago, when I was just starting to improve, Mom purchased a pair of geranium leaf earrings for me--one of the first pairs of earrings I started wearing after so long not wearing jewelry. Each year, I have acquired a new piece from Elizabeth. 

She follows my journey on FB, she knows just what styles I will like, and she's a joy to know.

Me and Jen

Last year at Fest, I purchased a small piece of art from Gallery Girl Jen. 

When she saw me this year, she remembered me! She remembered how last year, I had been too sick to get in and out of the wheelchair and how she had helped me to pick out a print. 

I still needed to use the Rolls this year because of the amount of walking, standing and time we were out.

My New Art For My Bathroom (My 'Affirmation' Space)

This year, I picked the print on the right because it seems perfectly fitted to my journey. Jen was so excited to see me feeling better, she added the second print as a gift.

We invited her to stay with us next year during Fest to save money on a hotel room!

I love meeting the artists, engaging with them, and seeing the wonderful art that comes to our town every summer.

Me and Tess!

Fest is always busy with friends who are home for the event. 

On Wednesday evening, Tess came over for a glass of wine and wonderful face-to-face chat. This is the third time I've gotten to see Tess (a high school friend) in nine years, and it is always a treat to catch up in person.

I wished I hadn't been quite so tired that evening, as we could have talked much longer.

Homemade Gluten-Free Blueberry Muffins Mom Made for Brunch with Jess

On Saturday morning, I got up early (for me) to have brunch with Kate and Jess, but poor Kate ended up with two sick kiddos and had to cancel. 

Jess and I got to visit for FIVE hours straight! Yes, FIVE hours! I don't know when I was able to do that last? 18 years ago?! 

It was incredible to have one on one time with someone I have known since 4th grade!

Me and Jess

Arts Fest was busy and tiring, but boy, was it great!

Thank you to the artists I adore and to the friends I love for making it a great long weekend.

Blessings,

Emily

Resentment and Untouchable Dreams

Beach Day: February 19th, 2016

In my latest posts, I've been exploring the emotions that have surfaced as I go from illness to wellness. In addition to trying to re-frame what it means to rest, I acknowledged that I'm still chronically ill (and not going to work!).

In moments of rage last week, I screamed: 

I RESENT the illness.

I RESENT the illness.

I've been doing this for 18 years and I am SO done with this. I just want to be all better and get on with my life.

When I blurted out these words, I shocked myself. I had no idea that I felt anything but joy around my improving health. I felt confused that I would be resentful when I am doing so well compared to anything I have known for 18 years.

How ungrateful of me not to just relish in what I have.

I'm not sure anything I'm feeling is particularly unusual. Even those of us who are healthy want it all and we want it all NOW. The reality for everyone is that we can't ever have it all. Not all at one time.

But there's still a part of us that is screaming: "Wahhhhhh! Why not?!"

What is that I want so badly? Why is it that I am so resentful of my illness now, when before that was not a word that I used?

When I was at acupuncture last week, a nurse practitioner student was shadowing my acupuncturist. I looked at her and thought: "You have the life I wanted. That was supposed to be my life."

When I got home I cried.

When I saw that young woman with two children, who was going back to school to become a nurse practitioner after having been a nurse for about five years, I felt the sting of how much the illness is still a part of my life, how much it has taken away from me, how much is still out of reach, and how much I'm ready to stop having so many limitations on my dreams.

Even Facebook has become increasingly difficult for me lately. A friend posted a photo of her family in front of their new house. From Facebook-land it was the picture perfect family with the picture perfect children and the picture perfect home.

I will never ever have that life.

That life (which I know in my head is not picture perfect) will never be mine.

My life, however it unfolds and even with my improving health, will always require compromises and different decisions than someone who is 1. healthy and 2. hasn't missed 18 years of the most important years of becoming an adult.

Live Horseshoe Crab!

The dreams are becoming more possible. But they are still untouchable. 

That makes me sad and resentful.

When I was very sick, I didn't have any expectations of driving a car, owning a car, falling in love, of possibly getting married, and even of having or adopting a child. When there are no expectations, there is so much less room for disappointment.

As soon as we begin to have expectations, the opportunity to be disappointed sneaks in.

Mom used her sociology background to give me the following analogy: in poor countries, people have very little expectations because of how bad things are. But when things begin to change, the change doesn't happen fast enough. Expectations rise. Discontent rises. People want more change and they want it faster. They want it NOW. 

My expectations of myself and of life are increasing more quickly than my actual reality. 

 I want everything. And I want it now.

And guess what? 

I can't have it.

There comes that "Waaahhhh" again.

I can never get those 18 years back.

And my life is still constrained in many many ways.

My life will never be a big, busy, bustling one. My dreams of marriage, career AND family will always remain untouchable.

What's most difficult now is that those dreams feel *almost* touchable, which is almost more difficult than having them be completely unrealistic.

Whatever choices I make moving forward and whatever dreams I am able to realize, they will be different from those of a healthy person. They will require a lot more compromise and a lot more sacrifice than if I was healthy.

And as my health improves, it's important to remember that I'm already 40. I'm facing major life changes and choices that most of us do gradually over a period of many years of growing up and becoming adults.

I'm looking at having to make decisions--like those about marriage and a child--at warp speed.

This is very stressful and anxiety provoking.

The timeline to have a career or a baby or other life dreams has closing doors and ticking clocks, whether I like it or not.

I know that so many dreams I never imagined would be possible are opening up to me. I know that I will find a way to make my life meaningful even if I cannot have the dreams I want so much.

But that doesn't mean it will be easy or that I will like the choices that have been taken from me.

It doesn't mean I won't scream and yell and cry about what has been taken from me, even in light of what has been given to me.

I'm sad that as time goes by more dreams are lost, most are still untouchable, and so many decisions have to be made more quickly than if I was healthy.

I am truly grieving what those 18 years took away from me. I resent that I'm still sick. I am sad for those unrealized dreams and that person who never got her dreams.

Blessings,

Emily