tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66952672542543568552024-03-15T18:09:47.750-07:00From Lyme to LimeadeFollow the healing journey of a thirty-something-year-old, chronically ill woman as she tries to recover from multiple autoimmune and infectious diseasesLeilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-36915280938531948052014-09-21T15:12:00.002-07:002014-09-21T15:12:19.099-07:00Taking a Break<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In light of my father's sudden and unexpected death last week, I will be taking an indefinite break from blogging. It sure has been a season of unprecedented losses. I need time to wrap my head around this. Wishing everyone the best.</span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-43798330420575973312014-08-07T13:59:00.001-07:002014-08-07T14:29:20.188-07:00On Suicide in the Lyme Community: In Memory of Heather Askeland (1980 - 2014)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As my readers know, I was planning to write this blog post about my recent appointments with specialists in D.C. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, on Friday, July 25, 2014, my dear friend Heather stepped in front of a train and ended her life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, like my journalism professor at The University of Texas taught me on September 12, 2001, planned pieces take a back seat to breaking news. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The summary of my appointments in D.C. can wait.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather Askeland wasn't just a Lyme friend. Over the past almost four years, she had become a close friend. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At this time, I'm trying to grieve both a personal and communal loss. In this moment of overwhelming sorrow, I feel propelled to address something I thought I'd never write about—suicide in the Lyme community and factors behind it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the same time, in this entry I'd like to honor the memory of my absolutely incredible friend through the ways she affected both me and the world at large.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please note: Any personal matters I share in this post were publicly shared by Heather on various websites such as YouTube, her donation page, Facebook and other community sites, and therefore I feel are not a violation of her privacy. I don't claim to know everything she went through toward the end of her life, and I'm sure nobody does. But I include details of her struggle that I feel are relevant to the topic—both her story and Lyme suicide at large.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ11ZCnJ4hmL0s0i4r5d4H23fMUhcWtdXJfsS0xLBbE5DxPwZabiY_XNGsxST0vb6hbPhVazvtOhbQtO1MpOe6chBD_ne4Kv2udwcoo2Hj1ncbG9NwF5W1CXz1HLjDNZLz22ue36Jfw8/s1600/heather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTLLJx4ZGc19IRUu5DHp3HWuQPC3OVJflPeIqXdfIxHW4Yd5FbERGOvpelZzpYA0URA-OX0iLoqvbmulIYORxqCVn8hq67iJKsYvfDx3PK_KQV6Ek606O8unOEmpn4C4Bovpxm4OoLKw/s1600/252743_1977052379802_293930_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTLLJx4ZGc19IRUu5DHp3HWuQPC3OVJflPeIqXdfIxHW4Yd5FbERGOvpelZzpYA0URA-OX0iLoqvbmulIYORxqCVn8hq67iJKsYvfDx3PK_KQV6Ek606O8unOEmpn4C4Bovpxm4OoLKw/s1600/252743_1977052379802_293930_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Heather in 2011</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The online Lyme community averages about one suicide per month—a tragic and shocking statistic up there with military veterans, both groups that have been failed by the very systems set up to help us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think this issue needs to be talked about. And I think that, while Heather's life was obviously uniquely her own, there are underlying commonalities in the Lyme experience that push people to take their own lives at an unreasonably higher than average rate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When news broke of Heather's suicide, reactions varied—as they typically do—from despair to disgust. Folks ascribing to the "suicide is such selfish bullshit" and "she should have gotten help" type logic were quick to voice their opinions. To those people, I would ask they take a step back and try to get inside the head of a person so void of hope that they want to die. Just try.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine, as in Heather's case, that your mother had just passed away, you just broke up with your significant other, you had to withdraw from your exciting graduate school program, and found yourself quickly homeless, broke, and sicker by the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now imagine experiencing all of the above while an infection raged in your brain. Not just any infection, but an infection that alters your perception of reality, depletes your brain of neurotransmitters (such as serotonin and dopamine), and impairs your ability to eat, walk, or speak coherently. Imagine you've become debilitatingly weak, virtually bound to your bed, living in and out of hotels thanks to generous donations, and continuously sicker by the day in spite of access to acclaimed Lyme treatments which have, for whatever reason, been ineffective on you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe knowing that Heather went through all that can elicit a sympathetic response from the more judgmental audience. As I always say: less judgment and more compassion makes the world a better place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let me be clear: While I certainly don't encourage or condone suicide, and wish with my whole heart she was still alive, I can understand why she lost hope. I think it goes without saying that a suicidal person should seek help, but it's also a reality that often a suicidal person can't see past their crisis, and doesn't want help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's the thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What non-Lymies don't realize is what a beast Lyme is. And herein lies one of the most fundamental problems in the Lymeshere. People chalk up Lyme behavior to "mental problems" without understanding <i>why</i>. Sure, most—if not all—late-stage, neurological Lymies have mental problems, but they are based in the biological and physiological. Simply put, we have actual brain damage. We aren't just whackadoodles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why is it that Lyme's closest relative, syphilis, can be acknowledged and validated for how it alters people's behavior, but Lyme is still commonly dismissed as insignificant. I knew Heather well enough to know that she felt painfully invalidated and criticized for her unwellness, and that itself is one of the main tragedies that propelled her toward destruction.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aYjsXelk1zh4JGbX52UudDkJuyotJo_ViEMeLwU8VHIhIwWnWlnzknt32-Ya2YDIyvrcYRPNllScMuGhz3W8AIZwhqgGttxeEPRQj5qK_D36toFVvk-AseEjUQ0q8nFLalZLJM1gs_4/s1600/syphilis-basics_syphilis-bacteria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2aYjsXelk1zh4JGbX52UudDkJuyotJo_ViEMeLwU8VHIhIwWnWlnzknt32-Ya2YDIyvrcYRPNllScMuGhz3W8AIZwhqgGttxeEPRQj5qK_D36toFVvk-AseEjUQ0q8nFLalZLJM1gs_4/s1600/syphilis-basics_syphilis-bacteria.jpg" height="180" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather's deep-rooted feeling of being misunderstood, judged, and invalidated is something that Lymies know far too well. And it's a horrible shame. We feel it from family members, society at large, and our own doctors (until, exhausted by doctors appointments, we stumble upon one who's willing to help us). In addition, our treatments aren't covered by insurance. You heard right! Treatment for Lyme is so insanely expensive that most people either go broke paying for it or won't even start it because they can't afford to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As if that's not bad enough, the treatments are very hit-and-miss. While some people do in fact recover, a lot are left just as sick (or sicker, even, than before) after doling out tens of thousands of their own dollars.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The system is broken, plain and simple. And until more research is done to find better, more effective cures, and doctors are willing to step up and acknowledge chronic Lyme disease, and health insurance companies are willing to cover treatment, and families start validating the reality of the Lyme experience, people are going to keep taking their lives. I hate that I'm even writing that, but it's true.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now let's turn out attention to the beautiful, radiant, warrior spirit of Heather. Let's never forget how brightly her light shone on this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To me, Heather embodied the ideal human. Unhardened by the harsh world, she loved people, she loved cats, she loved to love. And boy did she love. She stood for goodness and fairness, equal rights among people of every race and sexual orientation, and her heart bled for those who had less. She gave what she could, when she could. She took nothing for granted. She was a talented musician and poet, although she never called herself either—and never realized how brilliantly talented she was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pardon my language, but fuck. The world needs more people like her, not less. We can't afford—the world at large cannot afford—to lose Heathers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today is Heather's 34th birthday. I want to wish her a happy birthday, but I can't. Is she dancing with the angels in heaven? I want to tell her I'll always remember everything, until I'm old and my body decrepit, while she stays forever a young, porcelain-faced beacon of innocence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I'll tell her now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather, I'll always remember how you were there for me, without judgment, last year when I hit my low point and didn't know how I'd ever get through it. You let me cry. You didn't criticize. You didn't judge.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember when you fell in love with Kelly last year. You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice on the phone when you told me all about it. It felt, for a brief period, as if love truly could be the cure to all ills. You sounded as good as you'd ever had been—newly in love, and newly enrolled in grad school. I remember the happy timbre of your voice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember that you read my blog. This very blog. And would write me with questions or comments afterward. And you listened to my songs. Do you know how many people listen to my songs? Most of my best friends and family aren't interested enough to listen. But you did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember how deeply and unendingly grateful you were that my friend Bea allowed you to stay at her home in Palo Alto last summer. Or how much you loved Bea's toddler, Sienna, who had just developed a new fascination with ketchup. And how much we both wished I hadn't literally just weeks prior left Palo Alto for Tennessee so that you could have hung out with me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember our complex discussions about PTSD, and how very clear it was that this was a daily struggle for you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember your love for Ani DiFranco's music, and how happy you were when Ani issued a proper apology after unintentionally offending her listeners last year.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember your angelic, porcelain face, flanked by perfect red curls. And how beautiful you looked when you smiled. Or when you posed in selfies with your kitties.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember how hard the anniversary of Liberty Rebekah's death was for you, and how you hinted every late July that you wished you were with her. And then, this late July, four years later, almost to the day, you joined her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember your poetry. It never hid your struggle. It never lied. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll always remember you and your unwavering heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you for your friendship.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sorry I couldn't save you. But I forgive you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love love love love forever.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ11ZCnJ4hmL0s0i4r5d4H23fMUhcWtdXJfsS0xLBbE5DxPwZabiY_XNGsxST0vb6hbPhVazvtOhbQtO1MpOe6chBD_ne4Kv2udwcoo2Hj1ncbG9NwF5W1CXz1HLjDNZLz22ue36Jfw8/s1600/heather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ11ZCnJ4hmL0s0i4r5d4H23fMUhcWtdXJfsS0xLBbE5DxPwZabiY_XNGsxST0vb6hbPhVazvtOhbQtO1MpOe6chBD_ne4Kv2udwcoo2Hj1ncbG9NwF5W1CXz1HLjDNZLz22ue36Jfw8/s1600/heather.jpg" height="96" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And in some cases, it's believing-and-smack-down-in-your-face-screaming that you have a problem. A problem laid before your very eyes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is what I saw when I looked into a microscope at my blood this week:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFwm9s58XjUCzGni7Eb8WAqbdswTJFu1TmPNl5l_E_fhhf0i9MKkeUq7MEne7DZ43_lLvXEjbK_BlCu4Wv5FNg7y7-ZX3diLRKKDpxtLDEAmOdqbg9s27-kKzrxuzYWmmCLenqMJmwLQ/s1600/massiveyeast.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFwm9s58XjUCzGni7Eb8WAqbdswTJFu1TmPNl5l_E_fhhf0i9MKkeUq7MEne7DZ43_lLvXEjbK_BlCu4Wv5FNg7y7-ZX3diLRKKDpxtLDEAmOdqbg9s27-kKzrxuzYWmmCLenqMJmwLQ/s1600/massiveyeast.png" height="225" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See all those white blobs and strings? They're massive, disgusting colonies of yeast and fungi taking over my blood and my body. I mean, we're not talking about a little bit of a yeast problem, folks. We're talking about a very serious parasitic issue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, all those white blobs and strings you see in my blood sample are parasites--living organisms who survive off sugar and fermented food particles leaking from my gut into my blood. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This method of magnifying one's blood by 1000x is called live blood analysis, also known as blood microscopy analysis or blood smear. By sheer luck (or a divine plan, depending on what you believe in), I happened to be in the right place at the right time last Thursday—a quantum physics lecture on the dangers of EMFs—when I met a blood microscopy analyst named Joe. We discussed my situation and set up a time to look at my blood a few days later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's step back for a moment and look at some healthy blood.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3t7PqHbL8niwZxdMewnsJWZVgfmlFTYnkSmBF5WXR-C3qeRLLCpSEX8d4L86bDfOlAvcLdyRdcp5pcXUHmmo3B8jrpVi-KL-Sfk1c-16ETM_0qnWsi79L-GLxWTDr859AHrODMTTHa0/s1600/helathy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3t7PqHbL8niwZxdMewnsJWZVgfmlFTYnkSmBF5WXR-C3qeRLLCpSEX8d4L86bDfOlAvcLdyRdcp5pcXUHmmo3B8jrpVi-KL-Sfk1c-16ETM_0qnWsi79L-GLxWTDr859AHrODMTTHa0/s1600/helathy.jpg" height="167" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okey dokey. Now we have something to compare it to. A healthy person's red blood cells should appear perfectly circular and spaced out, not overlapping. The spaces in between the red blood cells should be free and clear of any visible debri. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, massive colonies of yeast/fungi are only the beginning of the problems Joe and I saw under the microscope. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2StAbz17vaQGeMfKrR4rDrGSv1NXTOxzYGwtbhEBd0bE1qOq5fgqNot4g15lS-uesnAOuHn53Otx8XOakJlG6kSPwodKifmrd9WQlJnXaeT3ic4NpAfW7pyc2OR9oUczbFcvVthF3Xmc/s1600/blackspots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2StAbz17vaQGeMfKrR4rDrGSv1NXTOxzYGwtbhEBd0bE1qOq5fgqNot4g15lS-uesnAOuHn53Otx8XOakJlG6kSPwodKifmrd9WQlJnXaeT3ic4NpAfW7pyc2OR9oUczbFcvVthF3Xmc/s1600/blackspots.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As you can see in both pictures of my blood, my red blood cells alone are hardly properly shaped, nevermind the yeast (or in this case, black spots which indicate an infection or foreign body of unknown origin). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Parasites, infections, and fungi aside, what on earth is going on with my red blood cells? I mean, they look absolutely pathetic! They're not round, they're not spaced out, they are just one big clump of smushiness. Yes, I said smushiness. Yes, it's a word. Because I said so.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Based on these (and several other) pictures of my blood, it can be determined that the following are problems for me:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Systemic candida infection, also known as a yeast or fungal infection</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A state of inflammation</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imbalanced pH level of my diet (too acidic)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Leaky gut syndrome (in other pics, we saw food particles)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Improper protein metabolism (I have to look into this more, but has something to do with eating meat, which I find very hard to avoid—and need to avoid!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">micro-organisms of unknown origin</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chronic dehydration</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I can't say I'm surprised to learn any of this. After all, I've heard these diagnoses more times than I can remember at this point. No, nothing shocked me beyond the shock of <i>seeing</i> things wiggling and dancing in my blood. That alone was incredibly cool to witness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess hearing a naturopath tell me I'm too acidic, or that I have candida, or that meat isn't being properly digested, has always been an abstract theory that, while believable, has been easy to put out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind, right? I guess the same would hold true for the opposite of that saying: In sight, in mind. I can't unsee what I've seen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Medical doctors—the ones who spent 25 years telling me it was all in my head—still dismiss all this talk as quackery. Mmkay. Anything that hasn't been peer reviewed, published in medical journals, and funded by Pharma is labeled quackery. If you have any doubt on the validity of blood smears or anything else I discuss on my blog, Google "Kris Carr", read about the thousands of people whose lives she's changed (including her own), and watch her documentary "Crazy Sexy Cancer". Do it. None of this is a joke. She is one of the most inspirational people currently alive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>A final note on candida and fungi:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While many people with health problems of fungal or yeast origin can see white fungi on their toenails, tongue, skin, or yeast coming out of their genitals, I have not. (I've never had "cottage-cheese-like discharge" either.) Yet these seem to be the symptoms you read about on websites on the subject. Don't let your lack of visible, external signs exclude you from consideration that you have candida. As I've learned, if you crave sweets, suffer from acne, chronic fatigue, brain fog and unresolved sinus problems, you likely have the kind of candida that's colonized your body internally. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if you bring it up with your doctor, be prepared to be shrugged off. They're not trained to understand it unless they see it on your toenails, in which case you'll be prescribed Diflucan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Craving sweets is really candida craving sugar to sustain its life. No wonder I've found quitting sugar to be so difficult. When you quit sugar, the candida goes into starvation mode, and you become irritable, and in some cases, rather ill while dealing with the die-off. Remember, candida are living parasites, and when they die, they don't magically evaporate—their dead bodies (all those strings and goo in my first photo) are still floating around in your blood and travel through your detox pathways as they leave your body.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bottom line is, killing candida will cause even more sugar cravings as they fight for their lives, and then you have to suffer even more before you get better. It's a lot like killing Lyme, and the Herxheimer reaction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of Lyme, if you take long-term antibiotics, you automatically have candida. You'd better be taking probiotics every single day and not eating any sugar. Otherwise, while those antibiotics are killing off your Lyme spirochetes, you're inviting lots and lots of yeast and fungi to grow in your body.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I'm sure my limited doses of antibiotics for Lyme haven't helped my situation, I'm pretty sure my diet is more my culprit. My chronic candida can be traced back to puberty, when I developed untreatable sinusitis and started eating dessert for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Recent antibiotics have only aggravated it, I'm sure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've got a plan to clean up my blood. It involves quitting sugar (I'm terrified, but I can't cheat anymore), getting back on a low dose of anti-fungal meds, doubling and then tripling my probiotic intake, and replacing breakfast with a vegetable smoothie daily. I just ordered a bullet something-or-other on Amazon! (I'm opting for a blender over a juicer, because fiber will fill me up and sustain me while juicing will leave me hungry).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to share pictures of my blood in six months and see nice, round circles, no clumps, and no more yeast! I can do it! It will be done! I'M SO SICK OF BEING SICK.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a feeling this could be a turning point in my health! It's definitely a big part of why I've been so darn sick. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to see my blood and know what my priority should be, because truth be told, it can be very difficult to manage all the coinfections, viruses, bacteria, metals, and other baggage that come along with Lyme disease. Candida is a common piece of the puzzle, and in my case, it might be THE missing piece of the puzzle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll be back in two weeks with an update on my appointments in Washington, DC with a rheumatologist and mast cell specialist. See you then!</span></div>
Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-70119071415452391522014-07-03T22:23:00.000-07:002014-07-07T22:24:08.911-07:00Functional (But not Good) Days<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>2009:</b> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was the last time I had it all going for me. My dream job—a senior position in design and communications I had fought my way up the ladder to get. A loving, doting and extraordinarily successful boyfriend. And my band, Opal Axis, finally establishing a local presence through a series of Bay Area shows, radio interviews, and our EP release on iTunes.<br /><br />I lost it all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><b>2014:</b> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can't work, no income. No boyfriend for five years now. No band, no performances. No advancing or progressing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've reached that point of not having good days anymore. At some point over the last three and a half years, they stopped happening. I remember feeling that, on these good days, my body and brain worked as they should. There used to be days, special as they were, when I could eat healthily, get a good night's sleep, and my body thanked me by serving me well.<br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instead, I now alternate between functional—which is hardly comparable to what used to be "good" days—and complete, utter dysfunction. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On my functional days, while I'm able to cook, clean, and run errands, I do so in a state of discomfort, pain, fatigue, and brain fog. On my dysfunctional days, it's difficult to use the toilet or watch the TV. I'm in bed, hopefully sleeping, but often languishing in sheer survival mode.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By God's grace, superhuman willpower, or random surge of good health, I was able to make the cross-country move in my RV last year. It's not something I could even think about doing in the state I'm in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Living with undiagnosed Lyme disease for 25 years, I was mostly functional. I wasn't great, and my health never measured up to what it should have been for someone of my age, but I was able to function on a normal level most days.<br /><br />In early 2011 I entered the dark tunnel of doom—antibiotics, antiparasitics, antimalarials, hormone modulators and immune modulators—and it's been hell trying to achieve homeostasis again.<br /><br />Over the three and a half years since I started Lyme & co. treatment, I made some small but temporarily significant improvements that ultimately landed me in a worsened state. Each time it was one step forward, two steps back.<br /><br />The more supplements I tried—no matter how benign—the more inflamed my body became. Because of my leaky blood brain barrier, every protocol every specialist put me on gave me more debilitating and longer lasting encephalitis.<br /><br />When I refer to encephalitis, which I often call "having a reaction [to something]", I'm describing the absolutely debilitating feeling of brain swelling, a migraine, nausea and dry heaving, the inability to sit up or stand up, cognitive impairment, severe agitation, a fever and sweating.<br /><br />Over time, these "immune reactions" have increased in frequency, last longer and are more difficult to put an end to. I'm exploring the possibility that I've developed what's called Lyme-induced Lupus, which occurs when the immune system becomes so burdened by a constant state of fighting infection (i.e. Lyme) that it ultimately falls into a constant autoimmune state, attacking the entirety of a person. Essentially, the treatments which are meant to help the immune system fight Lyme and its coinfections can actually exacerbate an already hyperactive immune system. The immune system loses its ability to differentiate between the bad (infections and allergens) and the good (your organs).<br /><br />Next time I write, I will have returned from seeing a highly acclaimed immunologist and rheumatologist in Baltimore, Maryland. I anticipate he'll run a lot of tests I've never done and I may be closer to understanding what's going on now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />As much as I try not to allow feelings of envy or self-pity enter my headspace, I can't keep them out. There are times when I notice how fast the world seems to move around me, without me. I feel the years flying by and notice everyone else's successes.<br /><br />I suppose a part of me used to enjoy the competitiveness of achievement. At a young age, I tended to excel in many ways, compared to peers. I graduated high school and college with honors, in both cases one year younger than my classmates. There wasn't much I couldn't do if I put my mind to it.<br /><br />Now I'm 32, and everybody my age has multiple children, masters degrees and Ph.Ds, and I'm no longer achieving anything, which goes against my nature. Whatever disease I now have is definitely a challenge on so many levels.</span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-88251685642293839182014-05-13T22:45:00.003-07:002014-07-03T12:55:30.018-07:00Mepron is the Anti-Christ, and Happy Drugs :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiigu6eu4rT_HnPcBVXx12x17JuxeG4bZJ3mqKxo6VeC2xRg7T9Fk_1w7jVYzxIjMwK-ulKl2COFYK6sStxtjZPBBX0yIJcEsHwIY7ruj9D530_H4T6JRaJhb_fOe97fpvX0Wn4TI3O3m8/s1600/depression.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiigu6eu4rT_HnPcBVXx12x17JuxeG4bZJ3mqKxo6VeC2xRg7T9Fk_1w7jVYzxIjMwK-ulKl2COFYK6sStxtjZPBBX0yIJcEsHwIY7ruj9D530_H4T6JRaJhb_fOe97fpvX0Wn4TI3O3m8/s1600/depression.jpg" height="257" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It probably comes as no surprise to those closest to me that I hit an emotional low point this winter.<br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Winter has never been my friend. But, take the coldest winter in 21 years (according to the Knoxville record books), add in the fact that I didn't get my stuff back from the movers until March 10th, throw in a Babesia flare-up which prompted me to try Mepron for the first time (dear God, it hurts just remembering that experience), and a few more personal issues, voila—and you've got the perfect cocktail of misery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A note on the Mepron: the bottle comes with a suicide warning. And I can attest to the need for one. I've never actually, <i>seriously</i> wanted my life to end until I started taking Mepron. Sure, it probably works wonders at killing Babesia (one of my most serious coinfections which is responsible for my nausea, spleen pain, shallow breathing, and nightmares), but it comes at the hefty price of murderous rage both at others and oneself. The drug is literally mind-altering. It made me into another person. I don't think there are enough words to describe the feeling that took over me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I actually started writing a will and planning an end to my life—that's how messed up I was. No, I didn't act on anything, but I made a mental note to start preparing for death. My will to live was completely and utterly gone. And I know it wasn't me, it was a change in my brain's biochemistry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not everyone has that reaction, but enough people do to warrant a suicide warning on the label. Even though I had only taken it for two or three days—at a very low dose—I had enough sense to know I needed to stop. Now I question how many of the disproportionately high suicides in the Lyme community were committed by people taking Mepron.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that's long behind me, as is winter. And with my stuff back, my house is finally starting to feel like a home. Springtime in Knoxville is a stunning display of purple, lavender and fuchsia blossoms, so remarkable it takes my breath away.<br /><br />And yet I can't attribute all my newfound, good-natured smiliness to the sunshine and explosion of floral hues alone. I've got some old fashioned pills to thank, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, I told my doctor I felt my Cymbalta was no longer as effective as it used to be, but that every time I've tried to slowly taper off the medication, I suffer extreme and debilitating withdrawals. After new studies came out supporting the claim that many neuroborreliosis patients may need to be on SSRIs for the entirety of their lives due to the way Lyme damages our brain's synapses and receptor sites, I've become ever-so-slightly more comfortable with the idea that I'll need psych meds for life.<br /><br />So, shifting course away from trying to quit Cymbalta (which would be enormously challenging in spite of its losing effectiveness), I've added a new psych drug to the mix: I'm taking 30 mg Cymbalta in the mornings and 5 mg Viibryd (a tiny, almost-but-not-quite-insignificant dose) before bed. I've also thrown some Vitamin B Complex into the mix, and I've got more pep in my step!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even my PMDD (extreme PMS) symptoms—which normally include severe mood changes—seem to be improved. However, the new regimen hasn't helped with the physical symptoms of PMDD (cramps, cramps and more cramps). Then again, it's only been a month since I added the Viibryd and B vitamin complex, so it might take a few cycles before the pain relieving effects kick in.<br /><br />I've always said the emotional symptoms of chronic Lyme are worse than the physical ones. Give me hip pain, a burning bladder, extreme sweatiness, tachycardia and whatever else, but keep the depression, anxiety, panic attacks, despair, and crying spells. Please.</span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-48808336684649659972014-04-21T02:00:00.000-07:002014-05-03T21:34:09.252-07:00Altitude Sickness AGAIN!!!!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A while back, I wrote <a href="http://lymetolimeade.blogspot.com/2011/10/yosemite-fail.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>this</b></span></a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And you'd think I wouldn't be foolish enough to repeat <i>that</i> mistake, but I guess I naively thought after having a positive experience trekking through Utah and Wyoming last year, I had suddenly, miraculously overcome my tendency toward altitude sickness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fools take note: One positive experience does not make a new precedent. It can actually just be one positive experience—a fluke.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I wanted to see my Mississippi-based friends Lauren and Spencer so badly that I conveniently assumed altitude was no longer a threat to me. After all, they would be vacationing in a cabin in the northern mountains of Georgia, a mere three-hour drive from my doorstep. How could I miss this opportunity?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We would have a blast together, I told myself, like we always do when we spitfires get together—a collective energy that only three extroverted intuitives can build off each other. <i>I don't get altitude sickness anymore! Hooray!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that I'm home, I can surely say it's nothing short of a miracle that we actually had a good time, because two-thirds of us felt as though we were on death's door—one-third of that fraction being me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No, I don't think I'd ever had altitude sickness this bad—and I was only at 2,400 ft elevation at the highest pass. We're talking <i>much</i> lower than Yosemite or Cuzco/Macchu Picchu. The sick and twisted new precedent here is that I had the worst altitude sickness of my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My first night, I developed tremors like a Parkinson's patient, a migraine, and in the middle of the night, a drawn-out dry-heaving episode in my cozy little RV at the RV park down the road from Lauren and Spencer's cabin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt as though my brain was being smashed with a sledgehammer, and I couldn't move from my fetal, dry-heaving position. I really couldn't move, I was practically paralyzed. I just wanted to die. I literally, honestly wanted to die.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpFIG7TiHQ3go9v5aXyDBMi2lGGAMoRRa7J61bHr0RlKKz6dK8vpIEuTpyhmxUvHfpUbdGWpCZU45qaA6IcwCEXwhWa87gOtSzCRnd7A6gIDJrlqr03Nnhzs13AUmfQ9M3F8Ga8_W0vus/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpFIG7TiHQ3go9v5aXyDBMi2lGGAMoRRa7J61bHr0RlKKz6dK8vpIEuTpyhmxUvHfpUbdGWpCZU45qaA6IcwCEXwhWa87gOtSzCRnd7A6gIDJrlqr03Nnhzs13AUmfQ9M3F8Ga8_W0vus/s1600/IMG_0326.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fake smiles - you can't tell how sick we were</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the few days I was there, I did not acclimate. I couldn't eat; I had no appetite. The migraine didn't go away. I had air hunger like you wouldn't believe (a term Lymies use to describe the feeling like no matter how deep you breathe, you're not getting enough air). </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart rate was insanely high. I thought my heart would pop out of my chest at any moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My plans to visit Asheville, NC, after Georgia had to be cancelled. Luckily the whole region is close to home. But the drive home—boy oh boy, that was something. I was in the thick of my PMDD, the week-before-menstruation window in which I become a raging monster every month. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was driving through switchback after switchback in a big ol' heavy RV. The roads were one lane by one lane. I was the asshole driver everyone hated, because I had to slow down significantly to make each turn. Cars kept passing me. I could barely see straight. I still had tremors. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To make matters worse, a heavy downpour swept right into my path. During the storm, I found a cozy graveyard in which to pull over and unwind. And by "unwind", I mean, have a meltdown. A full on, self-screaming match.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A migraine on top of nausea on top of full-body toxicity, and <i>no</i> neurotransmitter support—no dopamine, no serotonin, no endorphins, just an obscene amount of rage. It took more than five hours to drive 180 miles. In case I haven't emphasized just how sick I was, I was insanely, ridiculously sick. I think you get the point.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back in the comforts of my home, I called my uber-intuitive reiki master and dowser friend, Amy. She indicated to me through her energetic diagnostic tests that I was having a Babesia flare—one of my coinfections that thrives in low oxygen environments (i.e. high altitude). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enpevet.de writes on their website: </span><i>"<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Red blood cells</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> are responsible for carrying oxygen to the body tissues. The </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Babesia </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">parasite attaches, penetrates and lives within the red blood cells. Because of this, these parasites produce an </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">immune-mediated disease</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">. This results when the dog’s </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">immune system</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> destroys its own red blood cells in an attempt to kill the </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Babesia</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> organism. This condition is called </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">hemolytic anemia</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">. The resulting low numbers of red blood cells and lack of oxygen cause weakness and </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">lethargy</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> in dogs."</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I actually had a hunch I might be having a Babesia flare before I left Knoxville to go on my trip. I'd been off my Babesia medications for a long time due to their horrible side effects and my skepticism toward the medications' ability to fully eradicate microbes from anyone's system.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As it turns out, I may have made an already-bad situation (Babesia) worse by going into altitude. And, doing it during the week before my period just made an already worse-than-bad situation even worse. (Since being home, I gave in and got back on my Babesia medications again.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm scared to stop doing things. You know, actually doing things. Living. It scares me that my body is this sensitive, and seems to just increase in sensitivity with time. I'm afraid that, once I start avoiding living a normal life, I'll give up on that passion that fuels me, and my excitability will be gone. I'm scared I'll become even more of a loner than I am, resigned to the illness. I don't want to stop having adventures.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After three years and three months of managing and treating this complex labyrinth that is Lyme, I'm still trying to figure my body out. Sometimes I can't say no, while other times it comes more easily.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My sister called a couple days ago. She'll be working with Syrian refugees in Turkey for a few months, and wants to take a weekend trip to Italy to visit some of our cousins. She asked if I'd like to go to Italy with her for a few days.<br /><br />My actual response was, "Are you out of your goddamn mind? Do you know how sick I am?"<br /><br />See, I'm learning :)</span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-52028846262223781202014-03-14T16:44:00.000-07:002014-05-03T21:39:17.963-07:00How are those Goals for 2014 Coming Along?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">True to my proactive self (damn you, fatigue, for conspiring to hold me back!), I've gotten a running start on that <a href="http://lymetolimeade.blogspot.com/2014/01/goals-for-2014.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>list of goals</b></span></a> I posted in January.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here are the areas in which I've made progress:</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">0. Get my stuff back!</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, clever number zero, you. Starting off with a bang! I got my stuff!!!! Finally, finally.... fi...na...lly. What a crazy, incomprehensible little adventure that was. After the Department of Transportation and Budget Trucks and the courts of Jersey City ruled that we could all finally gain access to our stuff, several parties and I flew into Jersey City last weekend to claim them. This involved myself and a friend flying from Knoxville into Philadelphia (with a three-hour layover in Detroit), spending the night in Perkasie, PA, commuting into Jersey City the next morning, spending the day going through countless boxes in an unheated warehouse (it was thirty-six degrees in there), only to find that the overwhelming majority of my stuff was either broken, damaged, moldy, or, in a few cases, missing entirely. But, after nine months of living in a nearly empty house in constant anticipation of having my things, I finally have closure—and my dining table. And books. And clothes. </span><br />
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<b style="color: #444343; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">6. Volunteer and/or work part-time outside of my house</b><br />
<span style="color: #444343; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Umm, I signed up to volunteer with the Historical Society, and was an absolute mess at their orientation last month. It fell on one of my "weak" and "fatiguey" days, and I thought I was going to require an ambulance at the facility. Then I was sick again on the follow-up day. So I'm putting my volunteer efforts on hold until I'm more stable.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444343; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><b>7. Get another cat</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444343; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">Oh yes!! I sure have!! I adopted Sir Busterloo Fiddlesticks McGee, an orange tabby kitten from a local rescue group, in January. He's bundles of fun and helps fill the void left by Tiggy.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7FN591RDpB1h5_UyhbqP-cQ1YtrOgYrBwCzo64MtIf-wVDi1esgXBMTDrjARvYDgV6VOzYUauVwTUZf1m7wHNs3v8bh0W38YLlmQejKCkoL6krfwBg4vBgYHg6htcNyUXZhwQGjqg_M/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7FN591RDpB1h5_UyhbqP-cQ1YtrOgYrBwCzo64MtIf-wVDi1esgXBMTDrjARvYDgV6VOzYUauVwTUZf1m7wHNs3v8bh0W38YLlmQejKCkoL6krfwBg4vBgYHg6htcNyUXZhwQGjqg_M/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG" height="312" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444343; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><br /></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-27710251010342336222014-02-12T14:36:00.000-08:002014-02-15T14:40:17.799-08:00Whack-A-Gallbladder<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK, Whack-A-Mole. I surrender.<br />
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With all the treating I've done for collaterally damaged organs, the last thing I'm interested in is adding another diagnoses or problem to my list. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I mean, come on. Let's start scratching some stuff off the list already. But, no can do, says a tiny voice coming from my gallbladder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While a high percentage of Lymies in Facebook groups have openly struggled with theirs, I've never paid much attention to gallbladder issues. Admittedly, up until a few days ago, I didn't even know what a gallbladder really does.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, thank you dear gallbladder for the first-hand, educational experience.</span></div>
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<li class="li1"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All that back pain I've been having on the right side behind my scapula? Massage therapists said it was due to using a computer mouse. (I haven't worked a full-time desk job in three years, so I've cut down on mouse usage by about 90%, and the back pain is now worse than ever.)<br />
</span></i></li>
<li class="li1"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pain in my diaphragm and rib cage that I've been told by naturopaths and rolfers were "hiatal hernia" and "ribs out of place"?<br />
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<li class="li3"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The intense nausea accompanied by more and more frequent bouts of vomiting and dry heaving--especially following consumption of greasy or fatty foods like onion rings and hamburgers?</span></i></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In hindsight, this has been going on, intermittently, for a few years. Usually the pain to the right of my upper stomach is a dull, bruised type pain. Then there are infrequent times when it's sharp and stabbing. </span></div>
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Earlier this week, I took to Facebook in pursuit of peer advice and personal experiences on gallbladder issues. And boy, oh boy, did I ever get what I asked for! Within a couple of hours, I heard from no less than thirty Lymie and chronic illness friends. They sent me private messages, they commented on my status, and they replied to my questions in the discussion groups.<br />
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It seems like everyone and their mother has been through this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the new trend in wellness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And everyone has an opinion. A strong opinion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These opinions vary from "NO, DO NOT REMOVE THIS VITAL ORGAN OR YOUR LIFE WILL BE DESTROYED!!!!!" to "REMOVAL WAS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER DONE!!!!"<br />
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So I started to seriously consider bidding adieu to mine, as I found myself swiftly ushered into the ultrasound laboratory by way of my local, non-LLMD doctor earlier this week.</span></div>
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The ultrasound revealed absolutely nothing (which tends to be the case for most), so my doctor suggested I get a HIDA scan, which is a more savvy detective of malfunctions of the gallbladder.<br />
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But the HIDA scan gives you one to three years' worth of elemental radiation (depending on whom you ask), not to mention a toxic dye that gets injected into you, or the intense nausea that most people feel during the scan, or the fact that it causes artificial gallbladder contractions and bile stimulation.<br /><br />As sensitive as I am (and I mean, hypersensitive), that's not an experience that would go over well with me.<br /><br />I know, I know. Everyone's thinking, "Just endure it. You'll figure out what's wrong with your gallbladder."<br /><br />But... two things.<br />
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First, even after the HIDA results are shown, the doctor will probably want to take mine out based on symptoms alone. She already expressed her interest in doing just that. "You'll want it out before you get pregnant. If you're having pains, they'll get a lot worse during pregnancy."<br /><br />And secondly, I'm not sure the HIDA would show what I don't already know. I have chronic Lyme, which almost always correlates with a sick gallbladder--a chronically inflamed one. There's a name for chronic inflammation of the gallbladder: cholecystitis.<br /><br />Regardless of what any machine can show, the question remains, do I want my gallbladder taken out? That's pretty much a decision left up to me.<br />
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So then I hit a wall. And the brakes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What if I'm being too eager to jump on the gallbladder-out bandwagon? What if I can heal it naturally?</span></div>
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What if I end up being one of those people who has to take enzymes and anti-diarrhea medications for the rest of my life, or--worse yet--one of those people who loses control of their bowels after they eat fats?!<br /><br />Besides, all my organs hurt from time to time. My spleen is the worst offender, with its repeated stabbing pains. And let's not even get into my kidney pain. So do I really need to start removing organs that hurt? I won't have any left!
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I understand the need for people with severe gallbladder problems to have theirs removed. When it becomes serious, such as when a person develops jaundice from gallbladder disease, or is doubled over in pain from a stone lodged in a bile duct, it's time for it to come out.<br /><br />Just to be clear, I'm not anti-gallbladder removal. Not at all.<br /><br />I just don't think <i>I'm</i> quite there yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe I'll have to get it out down the road, and when that day comes, I'll know with confidence that I'm doing the right thing. As things currently stand, I can always have it removed--but once it's out, I can't put it back in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm just grateful that I understand what was causing the rib pains and nausea. Knowledge is empowering, and has a way of making things less mystifying or frightening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, I'd like to share my gallbladder healing protocol. These are pretty simple, tried and tested, natural ways to detoxify the gallbladder and aid in the removal of stones and sludge.</span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drink a tablespoon of raw, unfiltered apple cider vinegar in a cup of pure apple juice daily or as needed for spasms. It reduces the pain and helps flush blockages--try it!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regular coffee enemas to detoxify the liver. A healthy liver is the root of a healthy gallbladder! A liver that is congested with toxins directly contributes to the full spectrum of gallbladder maladies. Coffee enemas are excellent liver detoxifiers.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Reduce caffeine and sugar. This is my never-ending achilles heel. Caffeine and sugar are terrible for the gallbladder (and the whole body, for that matter). Don't confuse coffee enemas with drinking coffee--they are completely different animals.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Castor oil packs on the gallbladder as needed for pain and detoxification.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Eat healthier fats. This means replacing traditional fried foods with flax oil, olive oil, and coconut oil as often as possible. Contrary to popular belief, not all fats are bad for the gallbladder, and healthy fats are known to heal it. I don't eat a lot of fried food to begin with, but I think this is a big issue for most of America.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anti-parasitics can help clean up the gallbladder, too. A couple of my friends are adamant that their gallbladder problems stopped after following an anti-parasitic protocol. There are many over-the-counter products that do this, including wormwood, black walnut, clove, cats claw, garlic and many others.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gallbladder flushes to remove stones--proceed with caution! This is a physically taxing experience that involves fasting and consuming copious amounts of olive oil, epsom salts, and fruit juice in certain proportions (you can find very specific instructions with a Google search). While it's almost always successful at passing gallstones, it doesn't come without its own set of risks.<i> I'm not sure I'll be including this in my own protocol, but I've included it here for others to see.</i></span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feel free to contribute your own suggestions toward a healthy gallbladder in the comments section below. Thanks, and may you all have a healthy and happy gallbladder!!</span></div>
Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-53024441348366806642014-01-01T20:43:00.000-08:002014-01-01T20:52:21.895-08:00Eight (or Nine) Goals for 2014<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy New Year! Fresh off a family-filled Holiday travel bonanza to/from Texas, I'm regrouping and looking to the year ahead. 365 days, 365 opportunities to improve my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm happy to kiss 2013 goodbye, but in harmony with my spirituality, have immense gratitude for all its lessons. I don't want to dwell on those things anymore, so I won't rehash them. I'm just happy for the opportunity to move forward. Oh—and by the way—I'm really proud of myself for achieving my (one and only) goal in 2013—moving from California to Tennessee. I'm so glad I did it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While New Year's Resolutions are cliché (and the concept of dates illusionary), I embrace any opportunity to start fresh (and make lists. This girl lives for lists).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't remember the last time I made a New Year's Resolution. I definitely skipped the last few years. Anyway, not quite resolutions, these are more like goals—goals I hope to achieve in 2014:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>0. Get my stuff back!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is #0 because it's not in my control. Call it a preface if you will. All my stuff is still awaiting closure and release by the courts of New Jersey. All contacts claim there will be a resolution this month (it's about time!) so I'm really looking forward to finally seeing my stuff again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1. Remove crap from my diet, for God's sake</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You know what? You can be the smartest, most versed person on food allergies, pro-inflammatory foods, and leaky gut syndrome, but unless you apply your knowledge to your lifestyle, there's no use in that knowledge. My diet is my #1 weakness. It always has been. This year, the gluten and cow's milk have got to go. I've done short-term gluten- and milk-free diets in the past, and noticed mild to moderate results, but I always lacked the sticktoitiveness. I <i>know</i> they cause inflammation, so why do I eat them? The convenience? Do I really <i>not</i> have the free time to make food from scratch? I'm already on a mold-free (no cheese, no mushrooms) and nutrition-dense (daily greens) diet, but it's the cow's milk and gluten that have the honorary badge of keeping my snot-gates open and my commitment to Kleenex in tact. It's time for an annulment. I'm so <i>beyond</i> over phlegm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>2. Be patient</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm the least patient person I know. I'm antsy, impulsive, and rush through things. I give up easily, and I seek thrills like nobody's business. It's time I settle down, focus, pay attention, and discipline myself. A little less of the hyperactive gypsy thing and a little more of the grownup thing. On a related note: See #1 above.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>3. Get off Cymbalta</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hate that I have to take an SSRI. I've been on either Paxil, Lexapro, Celexa, or Cymbalta continuously for, umm, twelve years? Thirteen years? I generally defend this drug dependence with one of the following: "My neurotransmitters are really damaged from neuro-Lyme" or "Quitting is impossible". Umm, yes, and no. Yes, withdrawal is the worst form of torture I've known, but the Cymbalta is not good for me, and I always muscle test poorly to it. I've fantasized about going off it for years, and consulted with several psychiatrists about this. Now I know what I need to do—taper very (<i>very!</i>) slowly, and add neurotransmitter support as I go along. I'm absolutely terrified of the withdrawal, but if it becomes absolutely necessary, I can just slightly increase the dose until the feeling passes. Come hell or high water, I'm getting off this poison in 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>4. Stop dwelling on the past</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I waste an exorbitant amount of time missing or longing for things or people. I also hold onto painful woe-is-me memories like bacteria on a sponge. Yes, people have caused me pain, and yes, I have been struggling for an insanely, ridiculously long time now over something that happened early last year—but I'm done crying about it. Praise Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed, I'm finally starting to see the light. This year I'm going to make an extra effort to push such thoughts out of my mind and embrace the beauty of now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>5. Read the whole stack of books I bought in 2013</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really like to buy books and then not read them. So I've placed a temporary moratorium on buying books until I finish the nine books on my bed stand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>6. Volunteer and/or work part-time outside of my house</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Working from home on graphics does not support my ongoing effort to get out more, so I'm actively looking for opportunities to have more human interaction. I've already begun a dialogue with a woman at the East Tennessee Historical Society, which is accepting volunteers. I know my health isn't exactly stable yet, but I can't keep waiting around for it to get stable enough (what is stable enough, anyway?). If I'm a volunteer, they can't fire me. Ha! And if they like me, and if I get better, maybe they'll hire me part-time. It's a win-win opportunity, methinks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>7. Get another cat</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another cat?! This is actually a selfless endeavor. Okay, maybe it's a wee bit selfish. But Ocey and Juju, who are not bonded with each other, really miss Tiggy, who bonded with both of them. Ocey is especially in need of another cat to mother. The poor girl previously devoted her life to grooming and cuddling with Tiggy, but sadly, Juju won't let her. Now Ocey insists on licking and sleeping on my arm/hand at night, which is cute but not conducive to sleep, and she has separation anxiety whenever I leave. I hope to find a feline-friendly kitty that Ocey can spend all day licking and cuddling!</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8. Fall in (requited) love</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't roll your eyes! It may sound cheesy, and I know it can't be forced, but I am trying to manifest love for myself this year! In 2014 I will hit the five-year anniversary of the last time I called any man my boyfriend, not to mention the last time I was in love with somebody who loved me back... five years!! I promise I'm not in a rush (clearly, ha), and I won't settle (duh). But I'm manifesting this—I am! This is going to be the year I find Mr. Right. I feel it on the horizon!! It's my time.</span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-48128334121846676512013-12-11T17:45:00.000-08:002013-12-30T16:27:05.629-08:00The Rolf-Induced Detox<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Holy crap, this disease is a bitch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My most recent diagnostics indicate that my borrelia numbers and macrophages/monocytes are off the charts high (the latter indicating chronic infection in the body). I have a fever around 100 degrees on most days, and no energy. By the time I'm up and showered, I'm back in bed. It's like having the flu on a daily basis.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As my regular readers know, all the medications and supplements I've taken over the last three years made me immensely sicker—practically bedridden on most days. So I quit everything earlier this year to let my immune system stabilize.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, while taking a break from oral medication, I thought it would be a good idea to focus most of my healing energy on my skeletal structure, since I'm increasingly struggling to stand on my feet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, over the last three months or so, I've seen orthopedists, chiropractors, a rolfer, and taken a yoga class.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each specialist has confirmed without dispute that I have flat arches, rotated ankles, bunions, one rotated knee with damaged cartilage, a rotated pelvis with one hip bone two inches above the other, a torqued trunk, a 37-degree curvature in my spine, and displaced discs in my neck. Their eyes enlarge when they study my bones, and they seem surprised that I have any balance at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, this fall, I finally decided it was time to fix this, if possible. I'm thirty-two years old and deteriorating faster than a peach in the summer sun. If I have any hopes of being physically mobile when I hit middle-age, this has to be given proper attention.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During my first session with the orthopedist, extra attention was given to adjusting my feet, hips and spine. Bones were popped and cracked left and right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before I could even pay and get to my car in the parking lot, I felt a case of encephalitis coming on fast and furiously. I took a seat on the couch in the waiting room, which turned into a two-hour torture session in which I could not move or open my eyes. I simply laid on the couch and cried. After two hours and lots of drinking water, I was able to stumble to my car and carefully drive the five miles home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The worst of it was gone within twenty-four hours. So it was nothing compared to what came next.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three or four weeks later, I saw a certified Rolfer. If you're not familiar with Rolfing, it's basically chiropractic work on steroids—bones are not "cracked", but rather, moved around with the pressure of strong hands. Bones, ligaments, muscles, fat, and lymph all get moved around and put "in proper place".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My sister, who shares some of the same symptoms as me (but to a much smaller degree), insisted that Rolfing would restore the arches in my feet. It worked miracles for her! Her testimony gave me hope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My first session with my Rolfer lasted two grueling hours, during which a lot of pressure was applied around my armpits. When was the last time somebody pushed upwards, into your armpits? Probably never. It was definitely a first.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My shoulder sockets were realigned via my armpits, with painful pressure administered upward and outward. Then the Rolfer discovered that my right lung was not taking in as much air as my left lung, due to the way my right ribcage developed. So he worked with my chest bone, near my thymus gland, and my ribcage, in opening up my airways so my right lung could expand all the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, afterward, I was sore in the way one might be after hitting the gym. But I did not expect what happened next.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One. week. of. intense. detox. Detox like I had never detoxed in my life. Vomiting, dry heaving, diarrhea, sweating buckets, an acne breakout, and inflammation from my head to my toes (including a very inflamed ovary, in spite of my period having JUST ended).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was one of those experiences where all I could do was lay in bed (or by the toilet), cry, pray for it to end, or pray for death to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A healthy person might scoff at the notion that a Rolfing session alone could do that to me—you would imagine it had to be a virus, or food poisoning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the naturopaths and various other experts with whom I inquired after the fact (including the guy who runs BetterHealthGuy), weren't at all surprised that Rolfing did that to me. A couple of them even pointedly asked what I was thinking doing something so aggressive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hindsight is 20/20, isn't it? I chock this up to another case of Leila being overly excited and under-cautious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The consensus was multi-layered: For one, Lyme, babesia, and other coinfections like to hide out in fatty tissue, lymph, and bone matter. (You won't always find the bugs in your actual bloodstream, especially in late-stage cases.) So Rolfing mobilized them out of their hiding places, setting off an immune response, lots of dieoff, and well, you get the picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Suddenly my body was feebly trying to keep up with everything that was going on with my immune system and nervous system. Toxins were ambitiously circulating throughout my body (and as we discussed in the past, into my brain due to a leaky blood-brain barrier).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And here I was imagining that only medications and supplements could topple my system! Ha!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, so... I can't do Lyme treatment—I can't tolerate the antibiotics or the herbs. I can't tolerate even minute doses of methylation supplements. And I can't take any thyroid medication anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now I can't do much chiropractic work without pushing the envelope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm still reacting to a whole host of fumes and contaminants, electromagnetic fields, molds and food ingredients.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At this point, after all these somewhat repetitive blog posts, I think I need to focus my energies in a new direction. Right now I can't say what direction that is. I'll be brainstorming my options. Luckily, there's a never-ending list of directions one with my issues can head. If you Google "Lyme disease treatment", you will literally find thousands of ideas. And while it often feels like I've exhausted my options with nutritional support, methylation support, antibiotics, immune modulation, diets and energy work, I know I could spend an entire lifetime on treatments before fully exhausting options. (Stem cell treatment in India, anyone?) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just another week in the life of a Lymie... just another learning experience.</span><br />
<br />Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-52202894239671488022013-11-06T19:44:00.000-08:002013-11-08T20:07:02.839-08:00Waiting<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I miss everything. I'm stuck..... somewhere between last spring and my future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As much as I know we as sentient beings should live in the present, right <i>now</i> is a series of days, weeks, and months that I'd love to trade in for other months (preferably warm and sunny ones).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why? Because I haven't been feeling well for the past month or so.... not well at all. And so I'm unable to enjoy or utilize the days—instead, I'm a prisoner trapped inside this faltering body, with a growing To-Do list and none of my belongings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, I miss last spring. I miss the unbridled adventure of driving my little furry family in our mobile house anywhere my heart desired. The beautiful, promising open road. The first bloom of flowers, the green explosion of life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I miss...... feeling like things are happening—like <i>life</i> is happening. Being productive, getting somewhere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ...my monster of a cat, Tiggy, who had more passion for life than my other two cats combined.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ...driving twelve hours out of my route to see the man I loved (and still love) more than words could ever describe. Spending a handful of days staring down each other's souls in the best and worst ways. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hearing him tell me he desired </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">her</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, not me. Saying goodbye. Detaching myself from him so he could be with </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">her</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I lost a part of myself in losing him. I'm still trying to patch that hole, but it broadcasts itself like a flickering light on my dashboard warning me my oil keeps leaking... leaking........ and leaking. The light flashes Every. Day. And every mechanic I see tells me the patch to seal the hole is out of stock.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's what and whom I miss. I cry about them more than I should probably admit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I don't miss? California. I don't dream about it. My dreams entirely bypass those ten years and find their way back to elementary and high school years in Dallas, college in Austin, and trips to Syria—places for where my heart calls. I simply don't miss my years in California.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And to be sure, I'm unmistakably glad I made the decision to move to Tennessee. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, still, I'm stuck between last spring and what will become a beautiful life here in Tennessee. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bear with me as I elaborate; I know this post is long and somewhat rambly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See, I'm stuck because, after multiple exhaustive attempts on both fronts, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I haven't got my health and I haven't got my stuff. So I'm sitting here in mostly empty rooms, experiencing not only a physical and emotional relapse but a set of new symptoms on top of it—the newest development being my hips, legs and ankles refusing to stabilize the weight of my body. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What slowly evolved in the lower half of my body over the last twelve months has reached Code Red level. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've gone from having some trouble standing to not being able to stand at all anymore. I feel like I should be awarded some honorary badge for declining to this milestone of absurdity. Now I'm waiting to see an orthopedist. (I can walk, but not stand).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for my thyroid, which I've written much about in the past, I finally found a new endocrinologist who treats and understands both Hashimoto's thyroiditis and Lyme disease. While I'm thrilled to be seeing her, there is a waiting period involved there too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And (I may not have previously mentioned) I had to stop taking all my thyroid meds because I recently started having toxic brain reactions to them. Armour was barely tolerable, but Synthroid was absolutely intolerable—at any little dose. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the first time in almost three years I've been completely off thyroid. Having no thyroid equates to an increase in fatigue. And boy, oh boy, when I say fatigue, I mean FATIGUE! Bam, I feel like I've had the flu for the last few weeks (but without the green phlegm or coughing. Hey, that's a plus!). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am seriously, wickedly exhausted. If I could, I would sleep all day and night. But this is better than the alternative—at least until I can get on T3 or T4 or whatever my lab tests indicate I need.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, there's this: I'm still living in a beautiful, mostly empty house, waiting for the judge in New Jersey who confiscated my belongings from the crooked movers to release my stuff back to me and the other plaintiffs. The legal process is painfully slow. Nobody involved in the legal system seems to care that, unlike many other cases, this one involves eleven people's personal belongings, which we all <i>urgently</i> need.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the meantime, I've bought a new bed, a bedside table, a lamp, a couch, a dresser, and a shelving unit. I brought in the small TV from my RV. I bought some new clothes and dishes. I eat at the kitchen island, and my dining room is just four walls reserving the space for my beautiful, hand-painted, rustic dining table and chairs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe my stuff isn't in Jersey after all. Nobody has sent me photos confirming it's actually there. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe I'll never see my family heirlooms again.... my old diaries, my portfolio, portraits, love poems, photo albums, art I collected in Italy, Spain, Mexico, Argentina, and Syria. My jewelry, my shoes, my wigs, my extensive wardrobe made up of irreplaceable blouses I carefully collected over 15 years. My enormous collection of books, hundreds of books, many out of print. All my files, from report cards to health records; every formal document that identifies and confirms the history of my human existence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe I'm not meant to see any of my old stuff again. Maybe I'm supposed to shed all my old attachments—to start anew. It certainly would be in theme with the other losses I've sustained during this move. And how odd, really, that during my move I had to bid farewell to Tiggy and the other male who holds my heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe there is a lesson in here somewhere. Maybe my guides are trying to pummel me forward through shock and awe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, when I say I don't want to live in the inert present tense, I mean that I want something to happen—an increment of productivity and positivity. I'm waiting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the other hand, I'm not just sitting around feeling sorry for myself. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once I see my new orthopedist and endocrinologist, I'll feel better about where my health is headed. And at some point, hopefully before 2028, I'll probably get my belongings back from the judge in New Jersey—if it's meant to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I can't be living in the present, at least I can focus on the future! I have to think positive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Present, be blurred like an indistinct haze.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Painful past, be torched like wasteland ablaze in a cropland conversion.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Future, carry me forward with promise of golden glory.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, before you start thinking, "Sheesh, you self-pitying woman! Pick yourself up and make the best of what you've got," let it be known I haven't let this slump completely take over my life. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if—to the outsider—it appeared I was enjoying every minute of an exciting life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is because I hide my malaise well. And also, and as long as I can get out of bed and into a car, I find myself partaking in exciting little explorations on a regular basis, because East Tennessee is absolutely awesome—and there is no way I'm letting my health stop me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Does my health slow me down? Of course. Some days, I can do nothing. But does my health stop me? No way. Simply being alive, to me, is more of a gift than it's ever been, and there are ways to get around the fatigue and headaches (ahem, coffee).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I'll finish off this post on a more positive tone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the past few weeks, life has included such adventures as </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">singing in front of a diverse audience at an open mic night, celebrating my thirty-second birthday with a few new friends at a local joint, going to the Foothill Falls Festival, attending a meditation and grounding class, designing and editing a restaurant menu, driving through the famous Cades Cove where I saw not <i>one</i>, but FIVE, black bears, and partying with a bunch of drag queens on Halloween.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Actually, I'm glad I just sifted those recent memories out of my brain and into a list. I think that I may have just realized that I'm getting out and doing more than I realized. And, in fact, maybe this present phase isn't so bad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I admit I'm scared. I'm scared and anxious, and feeling let down by the bodily shell that houses my spirit. (That trip to Cades Cove I mentioned above? I only spent two hours in the cove—but without any restrooms, I literally squatted and peed seven times! Hello, interstitial cystitis. Good grief.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm a bit stuck, but I'm trying to make the best of what I've got in the ways that I can. The human spirit is strong—stronger than the body. And an ailing spirit can debilitate a person much, much faster than an ailing body.</span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-78394602026778136222013-10-27T21:05:00.000-07:002013-11-16T22:37:48.643-08:00Another Post on the Brain, the Gut, and Hypersensitivity!<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All this treatment I've done since diagnosis—it hasn't treated anything. All it's done is stir up a bunch of toxins.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can see it clearly now, both conceptually and as a symbolic image that I feel represents what I've been doing to my body for almost three years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Picture a source for drinking water; it can be a well, or a water tank, or a bottle of water. Now imagine sediment has collected at the bottom of this water source for thirty years. This water tank/well has been kept perfectly still, so when you drink fresh water from the top, you're not ingesting any of the toxins that have built up and hardened along the bottom over time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now imagine someone or something (i.e. an earthquake) comes along and shakes it hard, unsettling the sediment. It all gets mixed up. The water is now cloudy and chock full of silt, dirt, and metals. Would you drink that water?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like that's what I've done to my body, especially my brain. Lyme, babesia, parasites, heavy metals, etc. all remained relatively dormant in my body until I was twenty-nine. Of course, I was not healthy. But all that icky, toxic muck had found a home intracellularly and in biofilms. It didn't move around. My body had developed a system around it that worked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then, one day, I exiled all of those little invaders from their cozy hiding places. My attempt at stabilizing an out-of-whack biological state just further destabilized it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was figuratively inducted into the Lyme disease club at the start of 2011, I was warned of many challenges I'd face. I learned to expect to 'Herx" from medication, a temporary worsening of symptoms prior to improvement. I was told this would be the result of microorganisms dying off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(I was also warned that with such an advanced case, it would probably be impossible to ever get rid of my Lyme or co-infections. And I was warned of the medical establishment's ignorance and the corruption of the CDC and insurance companies.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I learned a lot in a short period of time, and felt prepared for the battle ahead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But nobody warned me that, somewhere along the way, my immune system could go haywire and toxins would cross my blood-brain barrier, fueling a chronic case of brain swelling. Not one LLMD or LLND or naturopath who had me on a cocktail of vitamins, herbs, antibiotics, hormones, binders, minerals, anti-depressants, blood thinners, cyst busters, enzymes, anti-parasitics, probiotics, or anything else, ever suggested a possibility of my developing new "hyper-immune reactions" or encephalitis.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As someone who is a much stronger creative thinker and writer than biologist, I'm not ashamed to admit most of the literature I've unearthed on this matter is far too technical for my fog-ridden brain. I can remember general ideas pretty well, but facts and details don't stay in my brain. As a result of my scholarly ineptitude, I proceed on this subject with caution. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From what I understand, the heart of my recent struggles lies either within my immune system or my blood-brain barrier. Like everything in the body, these two are closely related and interdependent. But I can't decipher whether this dramatic intolerance to supplements is an actual immune reaction or a leaky blood-brain barrier.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I have neurological Lyme disease, it's already a given that I have a compromised blood-brain barrier. The spirochetes paved the way by boring their way into my brain. This is not news.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I hadn't considered until my new chiropractor mentioned it to me last week is that I have a chronically leaky blood brain barrier. Spirochetes aren't the only thing crossing into my brain. He explained to me that anything that passes through my leaky gut can cross into my leaky brain. My history of stress, chronic bacterial and viral infections, spirochetes, toxic exposure, allergies, and leaky gut make me the perfect candidate for what is otherwise known as "leaky brain".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://blog.primohealthcoach.com/blog/bid/81828/What-Is-Leaky-Brain-Syndrome" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Here's</b></span></a> some basic info about it, written by someone other than me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to laugh at this. Yet another diagnosis thrown atop my mountain of conditions. And "leaky brain"? I mean, really? This is just too much. If I didn't laugh, I'd cry. And I really don't like to cry. So I'm laughing like a mad woman right now.<br /><br />At least I finally understand why I can't tolerate anything anymore. It seems to make sense: with such permeability, tiny particles are able to leak through my intestines and blood-brain barrier, creating systemic reactions to the invaders.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was a child with undetected Lyme and parasites, I certainly had my share of allergies and immune reactions. But my body could handle a vitamin supplement, or a bag of Skittles, or clothes washed in scented detergent. Then, as a young adult, I could inhale second-hand smoke, stand near a gas stove, and drink a glass of wine — or a martini. Or plain water with a lemon wedge.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But no, I can't do any of those things anymore without triggering sudden, debilitating inflammation in my brain. I'm talking about the extent to where my whole day's plans are ruined and I'm in bed with a migraine. The list of things to which I react is growing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My world is shrinking. This is devastating for a person who wants to see the whole world, someone who craves the freedom of no limitations.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this hyper-immune state/leaky brain/whatever unequivocally developed as a result of all the stuff my practitioners had me taking. Even now, after having stayed </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">off the majority of that stuff for many months, my immune system/brain hasn't calmed down at all. If anything, it's at its worst yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I regret taking all that stuff. But how was I to know? Most of what I took was a natural substance already found in the human body, such as taurine, glutamine, magnesium, lithium orotate, B12, and so on. Almost all my Lymie peers were on the same supplements, and each item had a practical, proven purpose: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"This one will improve digestion; this one will kill microbes; this one will thin your clotty blood."</i> I found myself with a case of everyone-else-is-doing-it and this-is-scientifically-backed confidence. I had every reason to believe this was the way to health.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I didn't take blood thinners, my blood would remain dangerously and unacceptably clotty, putting me at risk of stroke and continuing to inhibit my poor circulation. But I feel that, while doing its job thinning my blood, Heparin opened the door for toxins to cross my blood-brain barrier.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's just one example, but you get the idea.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've definitely learned that I'm the exception to whatever generally works for others. If having chronic Lyme isn't a lonely enough condition, having chronic Lyme and physically rejecting any treatment is an even lonelier existence. One one side I have the Lyme community urging me to continue with immunoglobulin and antibiotics (<i>"Suck it up! You need to do this!"</i>), and on the other side my non-Lymie friends scoff at my protocol for making me sicker. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I no longer "belong" with the healthy or the sick.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I ever hope to recover from this insanely limiting life, I have to heal my gut. According to the research I could find on the subject, healing a leaky gut will heal a leaky brain. Umm, okay, but healing a leaky gut is tremendously challenging—that is, if you want to eat normal food. You basically have to eliminate all of the most common food ingredients like wheat, dairy, and sugar, and I've already been down that road with little success in the past. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I mention you have to stick to this for about three years before your gut heals?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just don't know if I'm able to handle level of discipline again, or at least right now. I've worked so hard at my health over the last three years, and I'm in an emotionally unstable place right now. The very things I'm supposed to avoid are the things that give me the dopamine (joy) and energy I need to get through the day. Otherwise, I'll spend all my days in bed crying the day away. I know; I've been there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As if all of this wasn't complicated enough, I'm reacting to some the very things that are supposed to help heal the gut and blood-brain barrier. Bone broth and specific herbal teas (such as marshmallow and nettle) are supposed to heal the gut, but I feel sick after consuming them. Go figure!<br /><br />Detox methods and binders only go so far, but they seem to have lost their effectiveness. If anyone else has this same issue as I do, I'd love to hear about what types of detox have worked for you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is just so hard.<i> Life</i> is so hard. I really don't know what to do anymore.</span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-38975252439608041852013-08-30T17:56:00.000-07:002013-09-02T20:11:11.676-07:00A Whole Lot of Unclear Answers<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been awhile since my last entry, mostly due to an indecisiveness over what to write about—</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"should I discuss my new antibiotic, my new chirpractor, or more personal matters?"</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I've had trouble deciding, so I'll just include it all. Warning: this entry is gonna be a long one!</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life - Personal Matters</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The perplexing thing about my experience this summer is that it's been so marked by contradiction. Concurrent with so much excitement and adventure have been the yo-yoing emotions of high highs and low lows. Achieving a sense of balance or stability has been a challenge, but I guess a certain level of that is to be expected the first few months in a new city by myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, ever since Tiggy died in July, I've been in a funk. Something hasn't been right with me on a biochemical level, so I just haven't been motivated to blog. The crisis in Syria isn't helping, since I've got scores of family members living in and around Damascus. We're all on the edge of our seats day in and day out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the excitement over moving into my new home has been marred by an unaccounted for delay by my movers in delivering my belongings. For six weeks, Liberty Relocation (whom I hired, who subsequently brokered out my move to Virgin Van Lines) has falsely claimed, each week, that my goods will be delivered "within three days". After expecting the delivery to arrive every week for six weeks, it became clear they were pathologically lying to me—and unable to provide any reason for the absurd delay. So I consulted with a lawyer who sent them a "warning" letter eight days ago which has gone ignored. Also being ignored are phone calls, so now I may have no option but to file suit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last thing my low-tolerance-for-stress self needs right now is to deal with a lawsuit. I just need my stuff. I've had to go out and buy a whole bunch of basic necessities that I otherwise already own. All things I have stored in boxes. With the movers. Yeah. I'm reeling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But on the bright side, I have a quaint new home! And I'm back on long-term antibiotics for Lyme, for the first time in about a year (more on that in a sec). Also encouraging is that I'm getting out and making new friends, and I go for a brisk walk through the Green Belt about four days a week. I still love Knoxville and still feel like this move was the right choice—which is more important than anything. Everything else will fall into place with time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I'm just trying to be patient.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Lyme Stuff</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still feel the same as always. I have some great days, some awful days, and a majority of days that fall somewhere in between. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As most of you know, I stopped treating the Lyme infection last year and opted instead to focus on a more gentle approach—some Cowden herbs, probiotics, and behavioral practices that are proven to boost health: meditation, stretching, staying hydrated, eating more greens and nutritious foods, moving my lymph, sleeping enough, and avoiding stress (easier said than done!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd been down the hardcore treatment route a couple years ago and it had taken my life away from me. I knew that now wasn't the time for that—driving across country and buying a house. I needed all my physiological functions in tact. So I put off an intensive treatment for now, with the anticipation that I'd go down that road again in the future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I wasn't actively pursuing a new antibiotic-based regimen for Lyme until I ended up in urgent care with strep throat about a month ago. The doctor prescribed a new-to-me antibiotic called Cefdinir (a.k.a Omnicef) to treat the strep infection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two days into the Cefdinir, I could feel something starting to shift in my brain. By the third or fourth day, I was feeling healthier than I had in months and possibly even years. It was one of the best reactions I've ever had to a medication, as virtually all my Lyme symptoms went away. I had energy, mental clarity, an upbeat mood, no aches or pains, and an overall sense that this is what a normal, healthy person feels like.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then my supply ran out. The strep throat was long gone, so I couldn't get the doctor to refill it. So I consulted with my old LLMD (Lyme doctor) about my experience, and she confirmed that she regularly prescribes Cefdinir to her Lyme patients, as it kills borrelia. Aha! She felt it would be a good idea for me to continue it, so I've got a three-month (and possibly much longer) prescription for it now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But here's the thing. When I started taking it the second time (after a week-long hiatus), it just didn't have the same effect on me. In fact, it's been making me herx this time around. The more I take it, the more brain fog I have. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's frustrating, but not altogether surprising. I can count on my fingers and toes the number of medications I've taken in the past that had the "Holy Shit, I feel AMAZING!" initial reaction, only to be proceeded by the "I've done a 180 and now I make you super TOXIC" reaction. That pattern should be expected now, I suppose.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Damn medications. They're just like my exes. Ha ha. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I'm facing a familiar conundrum: Do I continue with something that interferes with my life in the short-term in hopes that it will benefit me in the long run, or do I make present functionality my top priority? It's such a tough call, especially since I'm entirely self-sufficient.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's scary when I have one of my "episodes" where I'm on the floor in a fetal position and can't even make it to the toilet. I still have days like that sometimes. A couple weeks ago I had a night where I crawled into the bathtub and brushed my teeth on my knees because of a toxin-induced migraine that had spread to my nervous system. I know that a more intense protocol integrating methylation supplements and heavy metal chelation and candida cleansing (all things I need!) will render me helpless. I've been down that road before. And then who will feed me and my cats? Who will do my laundry and dishes? Who will clean the litter box?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm stuck in this seemingly never-ending battle to fight for my health yet live my life. I don't know what to do other than what I've been doing: continue with small doses of supplements that I can (mostly) tolerate. It's not the holy grail; it's not ideal, but it's getting enough of the job done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A very common symptom of neurological Lyme disease (almost every late-stage Lymie I've met has it) is </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">depersonalization/desensitization.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I suffer from it so badly that I find myself seeking out adrenaline rushes just to feel something. This can be a dangerous behavior. I try to keep myself from doing anything too risky or downright foolish, but without excess adrenal stimulation, I feel like I'm going through life with some very numbed senses—I'm just a big walking blur, a cloud, fog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankfully, every now and then, a day comes along where it feels like someone turned on the light switch to my senses, and I come alive. I don't know if medical science can ever permanently restore this function for me, so I just embrace it when it happens.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Thyroid Stuff </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also issues (or I should say, "battles") as of late have been my thyroid and my scoliosis. First, the thyroid. I feel like my quest to heal my Hashimoto's has just taken me in some pretty exhausting circles over the last couple of years. One minute I'm hypothyroid, the next minute I'm hyperthyroid. One day my thyroid medication is making me feel sick, and the next day I go through withdrawals if I back off it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been on Armour, Naturethroid, and Synthroid each at different times in two and a half years, and I react to each of them. Again, brain stuff—mostly inflammation and/or encephalitis about thirty minutes after taking the pill. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Further complicating the issue is that I have yet to have a "normal" thyroid blood test result. Most aggravating is the fact that I will yield a hypothyroid (low thyroid) lab result while suffering from symptoms of hyperthyroidism (high thyroid), such as high anxiety, insomnia, and inexplicable weight loss. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My most recent test earlier this month is an example of that. My labs indicated low thyroid, but I could barely sleep at night and I had lost 15 pounds since moving to Tennessee (in spite of consuming at least 1500-2000 calories daily). So I am dumbfounded. In two years I have seen four endocrinologists and none of them have been able to explain this phenomenon to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The closest explanation I got from a friend was, "Some people's 'normal' level is different than the range on the paper." Okay, got it. But what does that mean as far as treatment? Last week, my endocrinologist told me I can self-medicate with my thyroid supplement as I feel I need it, by lowering the dosage if I start feeling too hyper, and increasing it if I get lethargic. Alrighty. Sounds like a plan. Actually, it sounds like Russian roulette, but I guess that still counts as a plan.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chiropractic Stuff</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally I have something to talk about that doesn't revolve around the theme, "I don't know what the heck I'm doing."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lucky for me, I randomly stumbled upon a savvy chiropractor located just a couple miles down the road from me (and insurance covers it!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A little background: A big problem of mine since I reached puberty has been my scoliosis (as well as my rotated hips). I'm constantly off balance—it doesn't matter if I'm sitting, standing, or laying down; I feel like my whole body is twisted to the left. Furthermore, my right shoulder and hip are higher than my left, creating the illusion that my left leg is longer than my right leg when in reality my right leg just ends before my left leg does.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It can be very uncomfortable, not just on my left leg, but especially behind my right scapula, located in my upper back—where there is almost constant pain. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also cannot stand without spreading my legs wide and cannot sit on backless stools/chairs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">According to my x-rays, I lean approximately 32% to the left:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My new chiropractor is confident he can not only relieve my symptoms but also provide preventative care so that I don't end up a twisted up, hunched-back old lady with degenerated discs stacked atop each other like wrecked cars.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I admit, it's a scary thought that my condition has the ability to worsen over time. Where will that leave me in twenty years?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sincerely, deeply hope that the adjustments (cracking of my back), exercises (meant to build muscle and strength where I'm weak), and massage/inversion tables will be effective.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks for following my blog! Until next time...</span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-72485171355436866732013-07-15T21:18:00.003-07:002013-07-15T21:25:23.187-07:00Tiggy's Death and New Beginnings<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I write today with deep sadness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During a recent road trip from Knoxville to Dallas, the unthinkable happened — I lost one of my kitties. Overwhelmed with disbelief and despair, at 9:53 a.m. CDT on Sunday, July 7th, I watched Tiggy take his last breath in the very place where he started his life twelve years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To understand the depth of my grief requires an understanding of what my cats mean to me. As a single woman without children, a spouse, a roommate, or any stability in my life, my cats are my family, my stability, my life. They're my greatest joy—nothing else even comes close. My decision to RV across country literally revolved around them—for example, which model RV would make them most comfortable? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We sleep together nightly. In the same bed. We cuddle. We communicate. We support each other. We provide love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I once callously told a then-boyfriend that I loved my cats more than him. To me, it was obvious, but to him it was offensive. Needless to say, that relationship was over shortly after that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So.... for as diligent and borderline-hypochondriatic of a cat mama as I am, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still have no idea how my big boy's heart failure got past me. Or how he declined so quickly. Or how any of this happened. I just...... don't know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looking back, there were recent signs that something wasn't right with Tiggy—but his heart?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 2011, he started having "asthma attacks" whereby he would cough repeatedly, as though he were hacking up a hairball—without the hair. However, due to the infrequency of these coughing fits—and his history of developing diabetes when given steroids—I decided against asthma medication. Instead, I removed the carpet from my bedrooms and started him on a homeopathic asthma remedy. His asthma stopped.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Flash forward almost two years. Around when I first arrived in Knoxville two months ago, he started projectile vomiting around the RV with more frequency than what would be considered normal—or tolerable by me, since I had to mop and do laundry every time it happened! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I took him to see a veterinarian who did a blood and urine panel and determined he had a UTI and kidney infection. He received a shot of antibiotics and was sent on his way. The vomiting indeed stopped after he got those antibiotics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought he was in the clear, so off we went—the whole gang and I—to Dallas. Tiggy seemed to really enjoy the road tripping. While the other two seemed agitated by the incessant driving, Tiggy hardly left my side up front. He either sat on my lap kneading me while I drove, or on the passenger seat, or on the ground between the front seats. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every time we arrived at a new location, he begged to be let outside to explore. He truly was fearless. In the right circumstances, I'd let him step outside the RV with me. He never went far, choosing instead to sniff the immediate area around the RV and bask in the sunlight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two nights before he died, while staying at the Sandy Lake RV park in northwest Dallas, he developed a sudden onset of labored breathing. Luckily, the RV park was a five-minute drive from a 24-hour Animal Emergency Hospital. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The veterinarian (whom I will call Vet No. 1) kept him in an oxygen chamber overnight, gave him a bronchodilator, a diuretic, and a nebulizer. She also took an X-ray, which wasn't clear enough to determine whether he had a lung condition or a heart condition, but she warned me against giving him steroids in case he suffered from heart disease. She said steroids can worsen the heart's condition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was the first time any vet he had ever seen mentioned any concern over his heart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We ended up right back at the ER the following evening when his labored breathing returned. (To be honest, it had never gone back to normal). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvcgBOx7LP8uoNeuI_-2XhBjUDJKUiAp3U5v1rGW4gwIfUxYnn6-vJkXWPgwQR_mI_x4H8m7YuopBs-9xBBeXXdIzaWBBTa9Ef3kRcPO6F4-FqKx9pQy5NdJDR_nFItSEXG8uyNmWL44/s1600/IMAG3253-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvcgBOx7LP8uoNeuI_-2XhBjUDJKUiAp3U5v1rGW4gwIfUxYnn6-vJkXWPgwQR_mI_x4H8m7YuopBs-9xBBeXXdIzaWBBTa9Ef3kRcPO6F4-FqKx9pQy5NdJDR_nFItSEXG8uyNmWL44/s320/IMAG3253-1.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Me and Tiggy on our second trip to the ER</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tiggy wasn't feeling well, I wasn't feeling well, and the vet techs and now Vet No. 2 (not the one I had seen previously) belittled me when I expressed concern over their advice to give him steroids. When I mentioned that the previous night's vet had cautioned against administering prednisone, she insisted it wouldn't damage his heart. The vet techs echoed her sentiment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was desperate. We gave Tiggy a prednisone shot. His breathing rate immediately increased. When I expressed to the vet tech that he was breathing more rapidly and suggested that had an adverse reaction to the prednisone, the man dismissed my claim as Tiggy being "nervous" after being "handled". Umm, no. I know my cat. I know my cat better than that vet tech knew (excuse me for saying this) SHIT about ANYTHING.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not only had Tiggy's breathing become more labored, but his gums turned white. I noticed this because I'd kept an eye on his gums throughout the day—and they had been pink until this point. With his now-white gums and rapid breathing, I insisted he'd had a bad reaction to the prednisone, and went to tell Vet No. 2, but she had very little interest in my cat at this point. In fact, she had very little interest in anything, it seemed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I took him home. It was 4:30 a.m. I lay with him and the others in a cuddle pile in bed in my RV and just cried. I was losing hope, and he was progressively worsening before my eyes. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart felt as though it were literally breaking into a million pieces. I prayed for an end to this torture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In between falling in and out of sleep, I noticed Tiggy trying to sleep but struggling to get comfortable enough to sleep. Finally I gave him another oral bronchodilator. He didn't even fight me to get the pill down. Minutes later, he started gasping for air and opening his mouth wide. Then came the distressed, deep-throated howling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seeing his condition so far worsened, it took me a split second to decide we'd be making our third and final trip to the ER vet to have him euthanized.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> How I was able to physically drive us to the ER I do not know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> How I was able to put one of the loves of my life to sleep I do not know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> How I gathered the strength to get through the day I do not know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had a supernatural force guiding me, driving that car, making that decision for me. I never questioned what I had to do. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never would've thought in a million years I would be putting my twelve-year-old cat to sleep, but we had tried everything else we could do. Nothing more could be done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The vet who administered the euthanasia drugs was Vet No. 1. I was grateful that the knowledgeable and caring veterinarian would be by our side. She informed me of the moment his heart stopped beating. I cried and cried. I kissed his deceased face repeatedly. The vet also informed me that the fluid that leaked out of the cavity surrounding his heart and lungs upon his death was confirmation that he indeed had had congestive heart failure. We needed no further proof.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I let them keep his remains, since I had no place to bury him. (I also didn't think I could take the additional grief of handling his remains). And then I drove home in complete shock.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tiggy was the alpha of my three cats. The only extrovert in a group of introverts, he loved attention from anyone who'd give it to him. This earned him the ranking of "favorite of Leila's cats" among my friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One thing Tiggy would do was rub his head against everyone's toes. He could rub against toes for five minutes straight. We all determined that Tiggy had a "foot fetish".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I notified my friends via text message and Facebook that he had passed away, a number of people who'd had the privilege of knowing Tiggy stepped forward to express their grief. Several of them expressed that he was their favorite. Even my non-cat-liking friends, ones who I didn't even realize had bonded with him, grieved that "their Tiggy" was gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't feel like I just lost a cat. I feel like I lost a piece of myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After mourning with loved ones for a couple days, I left Dallas. The drive back to Knoxville was a long and difficult one, but I'm back—and looking forward to moving into my house this week. And starting a new chapter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One last thing. I don't know much about what happens to animals after they leave their bodies, but about six days after Tiggy's death, while sitting by the swimming pool at the RV park, a brown butterfly practically flew into my face a few times. It then settled at my feet—both on my feet (toes, ankle) and on my sandal—for almost an hour.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, I've never seen a brown butterfly that looks quite like this. Its pattern is almost a brown swirl. Nor has a butterfly ever sat by my side for 55 minutes. Even when I held my cell phone up close to it to take a photo, it didn't flinch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not saying with certainty that anything is anything. But, it sure was interesting how much it loved my feet.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iHWjJjSQlK0xJVJNdkOpXYVaQA734JHGSKH7Iu-AR38Yt06AdMoS_GCiK1C00R4VsgHPoORxg7ZZC_qvnwqTAp-k_Q557tNZDRr6uv9tCFaM5QnFocO-vqSfUI6B8uaHwZXXV0GvkeU/s1600/IMAG3266-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iHWjJjSQlK0xJVJNdkOpXYVaQA734JHGSKH7Iu-AR38Yt06AdMoS_GCiK1C00R4VsgHPoORxg7ZZC_qvnwqTAp-k_Q557tNZDRr6uv9tCFaM5QnFocO-vqSfUI6B8uaHwZXXV0GvkeU/s200/IMAG3266-1.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRt-OGplxeDuXv52RAZJtQyP7rFhIZ6-oAnjDM93EdVYXI0aS3c-g4UD8lNK8ME7nDC_lf3nVJf7WKgEAuk12GC8fhlERL_aljNnyy_LGWpwms0hvehZbzzSbGxdenzbLccMz9UGXG5g/s1600/IMAG3267-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRt-OGplxeDuXv52RAZJtQyP7rFhIZ6-oAnjDM93EdVYXI0aS3c-g4UD8lNK8ME7nDC_lf3nVJf7WKgEAuk12GC8fhlERL_aljNnyy_LGWpwms0hvehZbzzSbGxdenzbLccMz9UGXG5g/s200/IMAG3267-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-7147996185952774072013-06-05T00:20:00.004-07:002013-06-05T17:26:15.689-07:00Summertime, and the Livin's Easy<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, so it's not technically summer yet, but it feels like it in Knoxville. And life is pretty awesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been living in Knoxville for just under a month, and I've already managed to explore the mountains, find a Chinese doctor, go on a few dates with a guy I met while shopping, rehome a starving but tame cat who was trapped in a shed, attend a few Meetup group events, find a real estate agent, tour a couple dozen homes for sale, and—drumroll please—buy a house!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And somehow I've accomplished all that while in the throes of a babesia flare.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi, I'm Leila, classic overachiever. Restless go-getter. Anti-procrastinator. When I'm not completely laid out with fatigue and encephalitis, I'm trying to conquer the world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the outside it may appear that I'm recovered, even healthy. And while I've reached a moderate level of functionality and stability in my life, I'm still not where I'd like to be. ("It" being "remission" since the Lyme never fully goes away.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's what's going on these days in the cellular mass that is me:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lots and lots of fatigue, usually remediable in the short-term with coffee or tea; sporadic brain fog; mood swings; nausea; anxiety; bladder spasms; sore kidneys; sore spleen; unstable blood pressure; occasional fevers; headaches.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hey, it's really not that bad. I have Tennessee to thank for an overall improvement, at least in part, since I'm happier and more at peace than I ever was in California. Mind over matter—it seems to play a big role. More on this geographic area in a moment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel very, very blessed for the way things are turning out in every aspect of my life. I don't want to sound braggy—I just want to share my excitement with the world! I want to shout from the rooftops! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wake up every morning happy to be here in Knoxville, happy I have my camper, my kitties, my life. No matter how sick I feel, I'm beyond grateful for every day, every experience. I finally have a good relationship with God, after a long time spent shutting Him out. I feel like my imperfect health isn't gonna stop me from finally living the life I want and deserve.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you put out positivity, it comes back full circle. One place it can be found is in the people we meet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I've met some truly remarkable people in the short time I've been here so far: Patricia, my sentimental and maternal real estate agent; Sara, a mostly-deaf graduate student with a shaved head whom I befriended at Starbucks; Mark, an empathetic and passionate pre-nursing student who works at the local grocer; and of course, my RV "family" of eccentric, loony, and protective full-time campers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I expected this transition in my life to be harder. I expected more doubt. More validation-seeking. I thought I'd feel lonely, lost and confused as I tried to find my place and settle in. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But things have seemed to transition flawlessly, even with Mother's Day and Memorial Day weekends spent sick in bed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm really awe-struck, in a state of some level of disbelief, at how everything has fallen into place so quickly and easily. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know this is where I belong. I never had this feeling in Texas or California. Never.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Moving to California in 2003 was especially challenging. I remember it vividly. I spent the whole first year struggling in one way or another and questioning whether to move back to Texas. There was no honeymoon period in California—from the beginning it felt vastly contrary to the "California Dream" I had imagined.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ten years later, I'm older, wiser, really quite a different person.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knoxville is everything I thought it would be and so much more. Having lived in Austin, Texas (four years) and the San Francisco area (ten years)—both popular cities among the young and adventurous—I can say that Knoxville ought to rank up there with Austin and SF. I don't know why it doesn't. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Knoxville is conveniently located to the Midwest, South, and East Coast. The city is chock full of rivers, lakes, parks, and hiking trails (with a special outdoor focus on water activities) and surrounded by majestic, green Smokey Mountains. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The west side of the city boasts a wide array of local and chain restaurants, and many grocers carry local farm-produced vegetables. A mid-sized and highly rated university takes up a good portion of downtown Knoxville, with several other colleges in the area. I've heard that the job market is good too with many employment opportunities in the area. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The winters are generally mild with very little snowfall, and the summers aren't as excruciating as the rest of the Southern states. Tornadoes tend to occur to our West and hurricanes occur to our East. Politically speaking, Knoxville is mostly conservative—and Christian, but not as extremely as the Deep South. And times are changing, so a younger crowd is moving in and shifting the culture. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My prediction for Knoxville over the next twenty years is lots and lots of growth. Expansion. It's still a small city with farm land taking up much of the surrounding counties. Knoxville is the Austin of the 1980s.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I have a house to look forward to moving into at the end of this month—an amazing little house that I searched for all over Knoxville with a very patient realtor until it was found. I can't believe I found it, and it was such a bargain! As long as the mold and other inspections pass next week, it's a go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the rest of this month, you'll find me either chilling in my RV, dipping my toes into the Tennessee river, socializing with the locals, going on a mini-hike, shopping at a home improvement store or shopping at one of the local health food stores.</span></div>
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-92016933399673176992013-05-10T15:54:00.000-07:002013-05-19T10:36:08.715-07:00From San Francisco to Knoxville: A Tale of Three Weeks On the Road<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following is a compilation of my Facebook "status updates" during my move across country. As usual, I expected to update my blog regularly during my drive, but found myself overwhelmed and my time more limited than I could have expected. I hope you enjoy the stories and photos from my experience! Note: Due to my personal style—a lack of capitalization I somehow aquired on Facebook (and is limited to Facebook)—my entries below are all in lowercase. Also note: You can make the photos larger by clicking on them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>**april 17, 2013** </b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">i'm currently laying on my RV bed, on my laptop, staring out the window at my empty house. the movers just left, and i just shut the door one last time. i said bye to my garden, which i should be crying about, but i'm kind of numb. i'm about to hit some heavy traffic leaving the bay area. later tonight i will be meeting up with my friend amy near the border of cali & nevada, assuming the rest of the day goes smoothly. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">goodbye, house. hello, road trip.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpU1dcXJeIPPfHZ86o9c5VODwvSZG0KoJ1whsjxeh3VdT3BoHGfE180GOGfMtBD46KCwUQbFzkfj4vafBmy23Rue8ix-qGpaHCpcrozosqnlDUWTtLNi9cr5XEQFsdKw4psRPLtk0Oi0/s1600/IMG_0170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpU1dcXJeIPPfHZ86o9c5VODwvSZG0KoJ1whsjxeh3VdT3BoHGfE180GOGfMtBD46KCwUQbFzkfj4vafBmy23Rue8ix-qGpaHCpcrozosqnlDUWTtLNi9cr5XEQFsdKw4psRPLtk0Oi0/s400/IMG_0170.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the inside of my house-on-wheels</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>**april 19, 2013 no. one** </b></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i've just spent two days near the nevada/cali border... it's a beautiful morning in truckee, with snow capped mountains around us! i'm so sad to be leaving <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=701533372&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/amy.macwhirter?directed_target_id=0" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Amy</a> and <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1406902469&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/mark.avila.3720?directed_target_id=0" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Mark</a> who have become some of my best friends from the bay area...hasn't quite hit me that i'm leaving for good. well today i officially leave cali and cross the border into nevada!! since i was parked in amy & mark's cabin's driveway without hookups the last two nights, tonight will be my first experience at an RV park with hookups!! so excited to REALLY get this show on the road, baby!! <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_114a41" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -1228px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6_Z9v1iRkQLCP3gLBwLH01QnmYZu5VR_wEIg0MAmo3sNcybwKFsdLzz0xmkevMTZH8GzrySE5A5ONrKuPe3adXnmmTNzASmDw4kB5_JsVN8vRpADkTPTxwI8Tooxh6ofdO6FuDXgiI0/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr6_Z9v1iRkQLCP3gLBwLH01QnmYZu5VR_wEIg0MAmo3sNcybwKFsdLzz0xmkevMTZH8GzrySE5A5ONrKuPe3adXnmmTNzASmDw4kB5_JsVN8vRpADkTPTxwI8Tooxh6ofdO6FuDXgiI0/s400/IMG_0130.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me, mark and amy</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>**april 19, 2013 no. two**</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i'm taking a pit stop in the middle of the desert (a.k.a nowhere), nevada (feels like AZ), at this really awesome gas station. it's got parking spac<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">es for normal cars AND extra long spaces for motorhomes!! when you walk in, it's like a mall inside a gas station, with a mini wendy's, DQ, and a casino built right in. they also have shower stalls in the gas station (?!) and a loud speaker saying "shower no. 6 is now ready", lol. crazy, right? i also wanted to say that the 10 miles or so between truckee and the CA/NV border is one of the most beautiful stretches of highway i've ever seen. it's right up there with tuscany, no joke. steep mountain hillside with snow atop and pine trees everywhere, a crystal blue river bubbling alongside the road!! i recommend you all ride that stretch (I-80) in your lifetime. anyway just wanted to say hi!</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=147301448660028&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Pilot-Fernley-NV/147301448660028?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Pilot Fernley, NV</a>.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>**april 19, 2013 no. three**</b></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">so the manager of this RV park is this totally cute 23-hr-old guy who, first, chased me down on a cart since i parked my RV without first paying (i didn't know better!) and, then, scolded me for turning on my generator instead of just plugging into the power (i didn't know better!!!!), and then, gave me a free water hose (i didn't have my own!!!!!!), and then, came into my RV and hung out with me <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">and told me about his pet hedgehog and rat, and then proceeded to tell me his whole life story about how he was raised by his grandparents in some RV park where he had no electricity, and how he recently totaled his car after getting drunk, and how he hates this town and wants to go back to oregon, and how lonely he is. and we shared all sorts of personal things before i bid him adieu because i'm just not LIKE. THAT. <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_114a41" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -1228px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=121011087911417&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hi-Desert-RV-Park/121011087911417?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Hi-Desert RV Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>**april 20, 2013**</b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i made some good progress today and have reached salt lake city, utah. boy was that a lot of driving! but gosh i love this RV life so much!! i am now in the mountain time zone. salt lake city is a one of a kind incredible beauty. crazy how the densely populated city just pops up after hours of nothing, and is surrounded by majestic snow capped mountains. i had some drama tonight in fi<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">nding an RV park. the first RV park i went to (KOA) was not there. umm, the GPS was like "you have arrived at your destination" but i was at some apartment complex and it wasn't anywhere to be seen. so i found another RV park "resort" but i got there after 9 pm and their office was shut and a giant gate had me locked out. i was like, seriously? all i wanted was to stop driving already! then a fellow RVer pulled up and told me the code to open the gate. i am so happy to be securely parked and laying in my bed. no more driving tonight, please! i just hope they let me pay in the morning and i don't get in trouble?? i don't need to be woken up by cops!! gah. anyone have any advice on what to do? i don't know TV park "rules of decorum". tomorrow i'm meeting up with my friend ann and hopefully (if i'm feeling well rested) i will make it to wyoming tomorrow night!! <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_86a0bf" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -2129px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_86a0bf" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -2129px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=111498278889863&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Pony-Express-RV-Resort/111498278889863?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Pony Express RV Resort</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the drive east as i approach salt lake city</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i'm a little bit grumpy today. tiggy has been having spurts of energy from 3 to 6 a.m. every night and i lost it last night. sleeping in two chunks while laying awake for hours in the middle is making me crazy. anyone want a fat tabby cat? seriously, he's all yours. i hate him right now. in addition, i'm supposed to drive to wyoming tonight, but apparently a snowstorm is on its way th<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">ere and it's about to drop from beautiful 60s weather into the 20s. EFF. i know, everyone's like "told you so". ugh. so i'm staying in salt lake city an extra night. which helps nothing. because the snow storm is lasting through tuesday. so i need to decide by the end of the day if and how i can circumvent this weather. i want to keep moving, and i want to get to omaha as a destination, so my options around wyoming are: colorado, idaho, montana, south dakota. but i haven't checked the weather in these alternates yet. hopefully the snowstorm is limited to wyoming and not the whole region. wishful thinking. damn you, wyoming. what to do? #help</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=104032706301121&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/North-Salt-Lake-Utah/104032706301121?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">North Salt Lake, UT</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i decided to go for it and drive into the storm!! ahh! and i was starting to think all this snow hoopla was much ado about nothing, until i arrived in rawlings, wyoming. until then the roads were dry and there was a light dusting every so often. but here the ground is covered in snow, and it's coming down in little tornado swirls and sideways gusts. it's fun to watch the flurries swirl along the street ground. being that i've only ever<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">lived in saudi arabia, texas and california, this is my first time (other than one random day in a flagstaff snowstorm) anywhere this COLD. IT'S FRICKIN FREEZING y'all. lol. but i'm safely hunkered down at an RV park for the night and it's toasty in calamity jane, so no worries here <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_114a41" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -1228px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><i> </i>i'm having so much fun but i'm really tired and kind of lonely. i wish one of my adventure buddies was here.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a aria-haspopup="true" aria-owns="js_4" data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=111724282198919&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Western-Hills-Campground/111724282198919?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" id="js_5" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Western Hills Campground</a>.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioI5jIcND-sT-MtUsi4vEHM45Dy9jvHKI2ql-RFQ74E-MGMLKCX749ezySNfLS-bTQCaboy2Tlj123Cx1mqBjb9sZg3b2TQeSBwlQA5furxKfjdur5CH_NxUMQcUHFGDMeZCnuQgFpDvw/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioI5jIcND-sT-MtUsi4vEHM45Dy9jvHKI2ql-RFQ74E-MGMLKCX749ezySNfLS-bTQCaboy2Tlj123Cx1mqBjb9sZg3b2TQeSBwlQA5furxKfjdur5CH_NxUMQcUHFGDMeZCnuQgFpDvw/s400/IMG_0130.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">self-portrait during a gust of wind</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 23, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">the patrons at this diner couldn't more starkly contrast to the patrons at a palo alto/stanford diner. back in palo alto, young, starched males with iphones would line the tables with their manicured girlfriends and then return to their fancy tech jobs. nobody would stop to talk to you or exchange banter. here at cappy's diner in rural wyoming, worn looking, camoflauge-wearing men r<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">anging from middle aged to elderly have come to fill their bellies with warm food before returning to their agricultural jobs. their faces are marked with deep grooves. the women are homely and share the same worn, honest faces and wear practical attire. nobody wears a shred of makeup and they all smile, call you "hon" and make friendly chit chat. here at cappy's diner, i came to fill my belly with warm, wholesome food before i hit the road to nebraska. i wear mud-stained sneakers, jeans, a rain coat, and my hair is tied in a pony tail. i washed my face this morning and smeared moisturizer on it to heal the dryness. and yet, like a blend of two worlds, i sit in front of my laptop. i wonder the last time someone brought a laptop into this restaurant. but i receive no weird looks or glances.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=111489825557461&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cappys-Drive-In-Restaurant/111489825557461?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Cappy's Drive In Restaurant</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the drive north into wyoming</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 23, 2013 no. two** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i'm staying the night in ogallala, nebraska. SAY THAT OUT LOUD WITHOUT LAUGHING. OGALLALA. it sounds like a smurf morphed with shrek, doesn't it?? this RV park is divinely quaint. the "office" is a bona fide 1800s cottage and round wagon wheels mark each RV spot. a friendly resident kitty let me pet her on the front steps. across the street is a john deere equipment warehouse <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">with about a thousand giant green tractors lined up for a quarter mile. well, the drive today did a number on me. the altitude made itself known in cheyenne.... 10K ft at the highest summit? i'd been doing so good! but that was the highest point - it's all downward from here, yay! i survived, lol. along the way i filled up at a hole in the wall gas station while a dude on a motorcycle filled up at the pump across from me (only two pumps total). we exchanged inquiries about each other's journeys. he was driving from ohio to california, ha! we are almost on the flip route! he's got a tent in his knapsack on the back of his motorcycle, but he admitted last night it was too cold to sleep in the tent so he got a motel room. he thought it was pretty darn cool that i'm sleeping in the RV every night, and i thought it was impressive that he's riding a motorcycle that far. and that was that, he's gone, we'll never see each other again, just blips on each other's life paths.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg">— at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=250127428337306&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Country-View-Campground/250127428337306?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Country View Campground</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT4HdIq3yFD3EZaFypgih6haXXUkW0XtlrZIfGILK2NxgkPoO1OQ_XFFJSs_irvCsU29d0q6lTqJDyYhKJXeBhxZ4eG-Bf9g4uhFpTcC4jjqZgMmUJIuFQlgAXkHENFsyfhx68PWXIQ0/s1600/IMG_0063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTT4HdIq3yFD3EZaFypgih6haXXUkW0XtlrZIfGILK2NxgkPoO1OQ_XFFJSs_irvCsU29d0q6lTqJDyYhKJXeBhxZ4eG-Bf9g4uhFpTcC4jjqZgMmUJIuFQlgAXkHENFsyfhx68PWXIQ0/s400/IMG_0063.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the RV park in nebraska</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 24, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">not much to say really. nebraska-- the land of cattle farms, lots of construction, really big trucks, cars going slow in the left lane, fierce wind knocking jane and me around, ambiguous political billboards (are they dem or rep?) and tons of roadkill..... i'm not enthused about this state or its cultural/identity crisis (it's like it's trying to be the midwest, but isn't?) i'm kind of excited that tonight i will have made it as far as iowa. DAYUM. anyway, sorry for the boring status update. i wish i had more for y'all.</span><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=120670451278950&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dennys-Restaurant/120670451278950?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Dennys Restaurant</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 25, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">since i started sharing my cross-country move in an RV with friends, many people have confessed that they too have always wanted to have an RV. my advice: go for it!! i was afraid it would be too complicated for my sole self to handle, but now that i'm a week+ into the groove, i'm finally totally secure with all the hookups. if *i* can learn to do it, anyone can!! i'm the girl who doe<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">sn't even know how to use a modem or cable box and i was able to learn this! truth is, it's not as complicated as it seems. you just plug a power cord into an outlet, a drainage cord into a sewage hole, and a water hose from a spigot into your RV. everything runs itself on electrical or propane automatically!! if affordability is your concern, RV dealers do financing just like car dealerships. what's stopping you? <i class="_4-k1 img sp_c7zwpc sx_fa5cd1" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/kpVQGAPnpSw.png); background-position: 0px -1330px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 27px 4413px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> it's been so incredible to hear that i'm influencing others to pursue their dreams. life is short, so carpe the diem. love and light to all xoxo</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=109525115732417&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shelby-Iowa/109525115732417?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Shelby, IA</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 25, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this afternoon i drove to minneapolis to surprise a close friend for his 30th bday!! whew, the cat can be let out of the bag...that was a tough secret to keep, hehe. but once i realized how close i was ON his bday (like, hello universe sending me messages), how could i not? tonight i'm kidnapping him to go RV camping (i.e. boondocking) in an open field for his bday! and it's a warm night by minnesota's standards...perfect for laying on the roof of calamity jane. #hellyeah</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>me and the birthday boy in MN</i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 26, 2013**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">no matter how sleep deprived i may feel, there's nothing as emotionally fulfilling as waking up to a beautiful minnesota day after a special birthday night with a person you feel so good to be around, so yourself with, and so easily, naturally, no matter the space or time. seeing this person feels like really good food, like coming home again....and you share those deep conversations a<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">nd moments that you know won't soon be forgotten....like last night—hiking (and slipping) through steep, muddy snow at midnight, under a full moon and eclipse, next to a lake, the only people for miles, noises crackling in the brush, just before a crazy thunderstorm rolls in, and laying in calamity jane with a view of the glowing, perfectly round moon shining down on a foot of snow, communicating so seamlessly, leaving nothing unsaid, and knowing this will be one of those nights you'll remember when you're old and nostalgic and wondering what you did with your life, how you lived. you want to take it all in, bathe in the essence, while you can, because soon you'll be on your way back to your old/new life again, and through the distance and space that will soon come between you, somehow you know the magic bond between your two souls won't need words or reminders to exist infinitely. and maybe you won't see each other again, maybe you will, but it doesn't matter. so, sleep deprived, weak as we both may feel today, no matter the paths and people we will cross and will love in our lives, we'll always have this place and time and a natural connection that comes alive the first of spring after periods of deep dormancy.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=112556112092725&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Corcoran-Minnesota/112556112092725?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Corcoran, MN</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 27, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my last night in minneapolis. took a sunset walk with my friend and two boxer dogs into the woods and saw a white-tailed deer and a couple sand hill cranes. we were like explorers in a new land, scoping out an ancient building foundation, hollow trees, and making up stories of our past lives. fun fun fun fun fun!!! lots of sweet, tender moments too. it will be hard to leave tomorrow, but i must be on my way to seee my family in missouri....ahhh the good ol' show-me-state.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">making memories that will last forever in minneapolis</span></i></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 28, 2013 no. one** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i'm back in iowa and not feeling well today. even though it's only somewhat warm outside, i can't stop sweating. my head feels like a tin drum. i guess this is what happens when you don't get a good night of sleep for a week straight. i wanted to make it to des moines, but i think i'll have to find an RV park sooner, because i'm driving swervy.</span><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=158337824176892&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Top-of-Iowa-Welcome-Center-Rest-Area/158337824176892?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Top of Iowa Welcome Center & Rest Area</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i just had my first real calamity with jane. i dumped all my toilet sewage out onto the grass sted of into the sewage hole in the ground….. the most disgusting thing i've ever witnessed in my entire life. no joke. i think i'd rather get stung by a thousand bees than ever have to see and smell that again. OMG. i don't recommend dumping your sewage in the dark when the pipe end <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">doesn't tightly fit into the drain due to a discrepancy in size, especially when you're about so exhausted that you have as many living brain cells left as honey boo boo child on shrooms. this just hasn't been my day. it's okay, you can click "like" if you want. i like the absurd. now hopefully the sleep fairies will come sprinkle me with amnesia dust so i can forget this day happened. and, like, how did i even get from point A to point B today? i'm so confused. — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=113857441968820&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Whispering-Oaks-Campground/113857441968820?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Whispering Oaks Campground</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 29, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #37404e;">i just got to the missouri state line, and upon seeing the sign, broke down crying. i don't know what's going on with me, but being back in missouri clearly makes a powerful impact. i'm finally where my heart feels its best. the drive through south-central iowa today was a spiritual one, as i took a one-lane highway (63) through rolling green hills and passed through a (mennonite?</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;">) community (which was unexpected--i thought the bearded men on buggies were just tour guides until i realized there's no market for tours in the middle of nowhere USA). head-scarf covered women were out in their gardens doing yard work with their husbands. i liked iowa a lot more than i expected. it's a vastly underrated naturescape. but now, oh now, missouri, be still my heart.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8y-NbXNNMV4seQVowH_mfpETM9dr_CiDC0HAtMfhyphenhyphenVSfFJzg5DElBlEV0yCfNe2-LdtaHklVn_7gvh84pv3u8FSvkVp3gVbj6Vua4O3Wcjq05dcF7b15Ap7u5LuJiV64hr-qhrEFeokE/s1600/IMG_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8y-NbXNNMV4seQVowH_mfpETM9dr_CiDC0HAtMfhyphenhyphenVSfFJzg5DElBlEV0yCfNe2-LdtaHklVn_7gvh84pv3u8FSvkVp3gVbj6Vua4O3Wcjq05dcF7b15Ap7u5LuJiV64hr-qhrEFeokE/s400/IMG_0009.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**april 29, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it's my first time in columbia, missouri, which is where my mom grew up, and where my parents met and fell in love in the 70s. tomorrow my aunt is taking me on a tour of where she and my mom went to school and church, and the house they grew up in, and all that stuff that takes you on a magic carpet ride. i'm super stoked! tonight i'm parked without hookups in front of my <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">aunt's house in columbia. it's a perfect 70 degrees out, with a slight breeze, so i'm sleeping with my windows open. my, oh my, late april in the U.S. can range from a snowy blizzard to heatwaves, as i've seen (and survived! points for not succumbing to nature's forces. still not sure how i got through it, but i did! lol). even weirder is that trees and flowers all blossomed in cali back in late february, but in other states, the trees are yet to sprout a leaf.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the pond near my aunt's house in columbia, MO</span></i></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">[this day, i was super sick, and had no idea that my cats had turned on the gas stove, filling my RV with propane! i smelled a foul odor i thought was sewage, but it ended up being propane, which i had yet to learn for a couple more days. i was nauseous, irritable, and extremely exhausted.]</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">i'm on my way to my favorite place on earth: <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=135481543150171&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Johnsons-Shut-Ins-State-Park/135481543150171?directed_target_id=0" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park</a>. last time i was there was 1991 or 1992. upon finding out i can camp my RV there overnight (i thought it was just a cool place to swim) AND that they open on may 1st (today!!!) i felt like i had scored a big prize!! i need the R&R. the last couple days have been brutal but i'm feeling better bit by bit. so, <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">i left columbia a few hours ago and i'm pulled over in literally the most random little middle-of-nowhere town (does it even have a name?) b/c my GPS decided to lead me through central missouri using a one-lane rural road (hwy 47) which goes up and down hills and has all these sharp turns and was kind of psychotically impractical compared to taking hwy 70 through st. louis...BUT...it's been quite an interesting experience. it seems like the people who live off hwy 47 between columbia and farmington all run their own businesses since yards have signs like "brown eggs for sale" and "quilts for sale" etc.....i got to cross over the missouri river at a town called washington, and later i almost ran over a big, black SNAKE. that was cool to see. it was hissing right there in the road, lol. very very green and beautiful area....anyway, going to continue my drive now, and hopefully will soon be swimming in freshwater!</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">southeastern missouri</span></i></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 1, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">today/tonight didn't exactly go as planned. i got to johnson's shut-ins park (swimming area) at 6:05 p.m. and they had closed at 6 p.m. i was still able to go park my RV at the luxurious campground area—a spot right along a bubbling creek, with electricity, water, sewage, its own picnic table, and its own grill. i walked around taking photos of interesting things in the ma<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">rk twain national forest until it got dark. at that point, i got antsy. i was the only one in this majestic campground! there was nobody to talk to. i couldn't get any channels on my TV, and i couldn't establish an internet connection. i had no phone signal either, so i couldn't call a friend! i didn't feel safe exploring the forest further at night, so i sat in my RV attempting to connect to the internet. my frustration led me to eventually leave the campground altogether. well, driving around mark twain national forest at night is a surefire way to get lost. long story short, after taking a number of little winding roads, i pulled onto the shoulder of a residential road to see if i could find some wireless internet to connect to. i accidentally leaned against my horn and honked my engine, and a minute later i looked up to find a young man standing at my window (spooky!)…he had been in his house and heard the honk and came out to inquire about it. i was apologetic and said i was lost and delirious. i knew i didn't have it in me to drive the 18 miles to get back to the campground. this young gentleman (sean) said i could just park in his giant gravel driveway for the night, so here i am, in some stranger's driveway, finally able to get online so i can come share my story. lol. people around here are just so darn friendly! but i'm still locking my doors and setting my car alarm to be safe <i class="_4-k1 img sp_8jpnlc sx_35e153" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yR/r/gjuVuAyNfi4.png); background-position: -17px -750px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 35px 2238px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> nite <i class="_4-k1 img sp_8jpnlc sx_35e153" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yR/r/gjuVuAyNfi4.png); background-position: -17px -750px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 35px 2238px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;">— in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=113415138672089&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lesterville-Missouri/113415138672089?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Lesterville, MO</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 2, 2013 no. one**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">twenty-two years in waiting, and i just went swimming again at Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park!! i did it i did it i did it i did it!!!!!! i am typing from atop a rock overlooking endless mini waterfalls at the coolest place on earth. this is peace. seriously, this needs to be on everyone's bucket list, it's THAT incredible. if you go anywhere before you die, come<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> here!! it's about to start pouring, so i gotta get headed out. next stop: propane diagnostics to figure out why the heck i had a propane leak in c jane last night. woke up at 2:30 to the beeping propane detector and had to turn off my propane tank. generator isn't providing power either, so i'm running power off my motor battery (not a good idea) so this needs fixing right now.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=196698733706214&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Johnsons-Shut-Ins-State-Park/196698733706214?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 2, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">riddle time! how does a two-handed person walk from the state park's public shower stall back to her RV in pouring rain in pitch black darkness holding an umbrella above her head, a flashlight straight ahead, a pepper spray gun with her index finger on the trigger (because you never know when a psycho will attack you in a state park at night in the rain, and yes, i can be hyper-vigilant about my safety sometimes), and lastly, her car keys? yeah. that was fun. a mathematical equation requiring ingenuity for sure.</span><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=108494679175087&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/St-Joe-State-Park/108494679175087?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">St. Joe State Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">this is crazy! some of you might recall that a few days ago, i was really sick and having a hard time sleeping. then, a couple nights ago, after shutting my windows when it got cold, my propane detector/alarm detected a dangerous concentration of propane and started beeping, so i had to turn off my propane. well, i just went to<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> gelbach's petroleum in leadington, MO, to have my propane "leak" diagnosed. and two of the nicest men i've ever met started walking around my RV with a propane wand to try to find the source of the "leak". well it turns out one of my freakin' STOVETOP KNOBS was set to "light" this whole time, and that's ALL it was!!! my damn cats have been jumping all over the stove ever since we moved into this tight space, and dummy me didn't ever check to see if the knobs were in "off' position!! ahhh!! i'm so relieved that's all it was. and these guys didn't charge me a cent. i offered to pay them but they refused!! and then they wished me well on my move and told me if i'm ever back in the area, to come back and visit them. i mean, what kind of a business works that way?? i am just beside myself with gratitude. life keeps throwing me lesson after lesson.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=106100992753775&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Leadington-Missouri/106100992753775?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Leadington, MO</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 3, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">would you all believe it if i told you my 90-year-old great aunt is a regular FB user? she gets online every day! what a lady! today i got to visit with her as well as some deceased family members at the weiss (my mother's maiden name) cemetery. i know that sounds a bit creepy, but i considered my time at the family cemetery to be a visit with all of them. t<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">he grave sites go back 200 years or more. while i knew my grandparents while they were alive, i like the opportunity to be around the spirits of my other ancestors. my childhood friend, amanda, who lived next door to grandma and grandpa, came with me to the cemetery. we stood in freezing sleet/rain at the tombstones and recalled our time with them as young children. we were soaking wet when we got back into the RV. the temperature dropped thirty degrees between wednesday and today, and all the creeks are flooding from heavy rain. tonight i drove twelve miles down a country road to park at a campground, only to find the road closed off from access, probably from floods. there were no other campgrounds or RV parks in the area, so i did the next best thing: i'm boondocking at wal-mart. THIS is why you should always fill up your water storage tank! i was just able to take a nice, hot shower in my RV in the middle of a parking lot! LOL! no hookups! showering in front of wal-mart: that was a first. good thing there are some walls around me while i do it.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=255967037759580&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/Walmart152?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Walmart De Soto</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me & my childhood friend amanda</span></i></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 4, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">i am immersed in a bunny colony. i have never seen so many bunnies in one place. they flip, flop, bounce, and dash around in circles like pre-schoolers playing tag. they line dance like country westerners. i'm tempted to become one of them, to run among them in circles, but instead i shall watch them without unintentionally yet inevitably terrorizing them. i feel a bit like doroth<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">y today, after finally leaving missouri and briefly passing through illinois to arrive at a fantasy-land campground somewhere in southern indiana, complete with gigantic sculptures of fish, giraffes, space ships, hamburgers, cows, and other carnival-esque decor, plus a miniature golf course and an empty swimming pool. oh, and one large, unleashed and uncollared labrador who seems to be in contest to break a speed record and may or may not belong to one of the many RVs in this park. this place is so dream-like that i can't find the campground's name on facebook's locator. maybe none of this is real and i will soon wake up. it's still raining, so everyone's staying in their RVs and there's nobody to talk to. i even had to self-register (honor code) by dropping payment into a mail slot. i feel particularly lonely tonight. it's almost too dark outside to watch the bunnies anymore.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=104101472958634&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Haubstadt-Indiana/104101472958634?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Haubstadt, IN</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 5, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 18px;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">i spent much of my last two years in california being anti-social while focusing on recovery. now i couldn't be more ready to get out and meet people, and when i get to knoxville, that's what i plan to do. i also feel strongly in my heart and intuition that my future husband is waiting for me there. it's refreshing to feel so certain of coming goodness, after so much time was spen<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">t in dark places. still, human relationships are funny and deeply complex. it's purely theoretical and idealistic to assume that we can love and befriend everyone. realistically, human emotions involve jealousy, inadequacy, bitterness, rivalry and the such. likewise, it's painstakingly idealistic to preach peace in place of war. we may be pacifists until the point in which the offender murders our mothers and siblings, and then we're drawn into the fight. we are real. we bleed. we are not cotton candy and butterflies singing kumbaya. this is life, not a fantasy. it's all we can do to try to be the best we can be, stand tall, have honor, build character, be honest, do good. and perhaps most importantly, try to break the patterns we're all doomed to repeat when it comes to relationships. what exactly are those patterns and why haven't they worked for us? introspection breeds positive changes that we all seek to make in our private lives.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — in <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=111903195493464&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Evansville-Indiana/111903195493464?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Evansville, IN</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 5, 2013 no. two**</span></b></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">tonight i'm staying outside lexington, kentucky, at a campground with its own water dam and fishing lake. i'm less than five hours from my final destination of knoxville, TN, and it's kind of sad. many people (including myself) thought that, after nineteen days on the road, i'd be exhausted and over it…… but i want more; more than the 3,500 miles i've put on c jane from sa<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">n francisco through nevada, utah, wyoming, nebraska, iowa, minnesota, iowa again, doing circles through missouri, then illinois, indiana, and kentucky. i want to drive c jane and the cats and myself north through michigan. into canada. back down through new england and all the way to georgia. i don't want this to end. but i have a car to pick up, and a bunch of possessions to claim, and a new life to start in knoxville. i still haven't the slightest idea which RV park i'm going to "move" into when i get there, or what i'll do once i get there. but i know for certain: c jane has a lot of miles yet to be put on her. she's got a lot more places to see, and she will. we're only just beginning.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=106419356084282&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shelby-Lake/106419356084282?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Shelby Lake</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 6, 2013** </span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">i didn't get to tennessee today. instead, i explored the pristine green hills of central and southern kentucky, including a charming town called berea which houses a historical college i wish i'd known about when i was a teenager. a lightning and thunder show welcomed me into berea, complete with flickering, glowing bursts of light and heavy monsoon rain….more rain….rain from missou<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">ri to kentucky for the last five days…. but i'm not complaining. the residents would rather their creeks not overflow, but i enjoy the stormy weather and ominous-looking clouds. in frankfort, the capital of kentucky, all three starbucks employees—giddy college-aged girls—found themselves fascinated by my trek (from san francisco?!? really??), and like the young, sheltered, small-town girls they are, couldn't wipe their mesmerized smiles off their faces. i felt like a super star or a celebrity, donning my gray sweatpants, a mess of hair on top of my head, coffee in hand, in little ol' frankfort all the way from california. the people in kentucky have the thickest accents i've heard yet on my travels, and the scenery is really something out of a storybook. tonight i'm staying in levi jackson state park in the city of london, kentucky. not to be confused with levi johnson, sarah palin's daughter's deadbeat baby daddy.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=195194693851911&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Levi-Jackson-State-Park/195194693851911?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Levi Jackson State Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a prairie in kentucky</span></i></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 7, 2013**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">i made it to knoxville!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i've met quite the characters already, and i've been here for less than 24 hours. first there's lucy, the manager of this RV park, a little ol' thang reminiscent of the petite lady in the poltergeist movies. she calls me "baby" and "hon" and told me about her cat, "little bit", who likes to drink from her faucet and go riding in her RV with her. then i met jimbo, yes, JI<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">MBO (perfect name for this man), a pot-bellied old man living full-time right across from my parking spot, whose second wife died of lyme disease!! TRUE! sad face. it took us a whole 90 seconds of introductions for me to find out his wife died from undiagnosed lyme disease, and that she had a big tick scar in her belly right next to her belly button, and that she was sick for about 5 years with ignorant doctors who didn't know how to treat her (shocker! maybe if she'd been given antibiotics she'd be alive today?) and ultimately her kidneys failed. poor jimbo and his poor wife. lastly, i stopped to get cash out of an ATM at a gas station in lenoir city and met the cashier, an unruly woman around my age with two hickeys on her neck who decided i was the appropriate person to hear her lamentations over money and the good-for-nothing father of her children who won't pay child support. (why do strangers always tell me this kind of stuff?). i'm currently waiting for the arrival of my toyota matrix, which is being delivered tonight by a befuddled trucker who demanded i pay cash upon arrival (he can't use a check to pay for his next leg of gas), which would have been perfectly fine if i hadn't just spent 1.5 hours driving from ATM to ATM continuously being declined in spite of having sufficient funds. after my third failed attempt and some panicky moments (what would the trucker do if i didn't have the cash?!), bank of america's fraud department called ME, verified my identity, and allowed me to withdraw my cash. PHEW. i wouldn't want to see the trucker's reaction if i didn't have his money, and thank god, now i don't have to.</span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"> — at <a aria-haspopup="true" aria-owns="js_9" data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=143303529075216&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lazy-Acres-RV-Park/143303529075216?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" id="js_10" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Lazy Acres RV Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the scenery near the border of kentucky and tennessee</span></i></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**may 8, 2013**</span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #37404e; display: inline;"><span class="userContentSecondary fcg" style="color: #89919c;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" style="color: #37404e;">well good morning everyone! (ok, it's afternoon here...damn east coast time will take getting used to, lol)...since my move was complete yesterday! woke up in my new residence...i guess i live here now...HA! i live in a trailer park! lol. until i get out and make some friends, i would love visitors, so come visit me! i'll roll out my awning and we can sit under it and drink lemonade. my back yard is a lush forest and my front yard is a goat farm with baby goats! i have no idea what i'm doing here, or how i got here, but it's kind of awesome <i class="_4-k1 img sp_8jpnlc sx_35e153" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yR/r/gjuVuAyNfi4.png); background-position: -17px -750px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 35px 2238px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span><span class="userContentSecondary fcg"> — at <a data-ft="{"tn":"P"}" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=143303529075216&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22viewer_id%22%3A584678197%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lazy-Acres-RV-Park/143303529075216?ref=stream&viewer_id=584678197" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Lazy Acres RV Park</a>.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a baby turtle i found at the RV park in TN</span></i></div>
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-40228260812241647242013-04-03T22:38:00.001-07:002013-04-03T22:50:43.074-07:00(Almost) Time for Takeoff!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here I am, less than two weeks from starting my cross-country transitional adventure, and I'm in the thick of it. The really thick, ferocious downpour that accompanies relocation of a life; the thickest thick of all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such preparation has included putting my house on the market, rejecting and ultimately accepting an offer, researching and booking reputable movers and storage facilities for my furniture, packing up everything, locating and purchasing the perfect RV for my drive from California to Tennessee, learning how to use all the RV hookups, planning my route and stops, microchipping and vaccinating my cats, saying goodbye to all my local friends in final and bittersweet get-togethers, disconnecting services such as TV and homeowners insurance, forwarding my mail to my dad in Texas (since I don't have a forwarding address yet), and tying up seemingly infinite, miscellaneous loose ends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's a lot of stress for anyone; but for a person with chronic illnesses, it presents extra challenges.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, a couple weeks ago, I experienced a bona fide freakishness. A bone spontaneously and quickly erupted through the roof of my mouth and I required an emergency dentist appointment to remove it. It was ridiculous. This fang of sorts popped through almost overnight—just to throw a wrench into my schedule, it seemed—and required hammering, breaking, and chiseling with an arsenal of dental tools to be removed. I mean, what the heck was that? Even the dentist seemed baffled: "It may have been an extra tooth you've had all your life that just decided to drop. Or an extra bone." Umm, okay.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, due to luck—or good graces or supernatural powers, I'm experiencing a surge of good health. With the exception of getting the flu a few weeks ago, I've been feeling healthier than I have in years. I'm nowhere near "normal" or totally healthy, but the frequency and severity of my worst symptoms are reduced. Thank God. I don't know that I could get through this period otherwise, especially on my own.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The excitement surrounding the move that is now just a blink of an eye away may contribute to my sense of all-over goodness. In addition to excitement, I also feel a sense of pride for the first time in a long time. As someone who's been hard on myself for the last two years for being unable to work full-time—somehow feeling like I've let myself and others down—I feel like I'm finally achieving something worthwhile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not only am I excited for the sheer adventure of the journey ahead, but I'm optimistic that this is the right move for me in every way that long-term success can be quantified, including but not limited to: health, happiness, financial stability, and love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Brief tangent: There is something about California men that really turns me off. The straight men here seem to exist on one end of the following spectrum—the pot smoking, broke, unreliable, whiney, flaky, hippie musician type, OR super nerdy, gadget-obsessed, personality-lacking engineers. I've dated both types several times over, and I'm pretty confident my husband isn't here in California. (As for the pompous, chauvinistic, arrogant, shallow, douchebag types that can also be found here, I've strictly avoided them. I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than date one of them!) I know I'll find Mr. Right in Tennessee!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I digress. As I was saying, I'm feeling super excited and proud of myself, which must be good for my health. Oh, and grateful too, for how everything is turning out. While I'm definitely stressed out, I feel incredibly blessed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I look back at how I've evolved as a person over the two years I've kept this blog, I realize I write less about Lyme disease than I used to. This parallels the attention I give the disease in my day-to-day life. When I launched this blog in early 2011, I focused my attention almost exclusively on Lyme and its coinfections. I'd like to continue evolving this blog into something more of a journal of my life. Of course, no matter where I go or what I do, my health will always play a role—whether good or bad. So as I blog about the milestones to come, you'll still hear about the pesky nausea that interfered, or the fatigue that forced me to stay in bed for the day, or whatever it may be. But that will be secondary information to the theme of the post.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, since my next entry will definitely take place after I hit the road, I'll increase my blogging frequency to provide updates a couple times a week. Specifically I'd like this to become the place where I document my RVing experience and the early days of my life in Knoxville! So be sure to come back (more frequently!) starting about two weeks from now to see what kind of shenanigans I've gotten myself into ;-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know I've written about this time and time again, but there is something so indescribably magical about the open road. When I think back to moments in my life when I knew what it meant to be truly happy and embrace the moment, my mind wanders back to childhood road trips through the Ozarks to visit my grandparents where we would stop along the way to slide down layers of natural rock formations and catch tadpoles with our bare hands.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>......And the infamous road trip through Mexico that, in spite of wrecking our car and some other drama, was infused with the joys of pet monkeys, blue lagoons, sand-dollar-blanketed beaches, bareback horseback riding, misty rain forests, and cheesy 90s pop songs that had been translated to Spanish—like "Ooh Baby I Love Your Way" ("Ooh Bebe Te Quiero A Ti", anyone?).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> ......And I'll never forget our drive through Northern Syria's ancient ruins and Crusades-era castles, so magnificent and underrated in their architectural glory, where we road camels and drank tea under a canopy in the hot summer sun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> ......Even my cross-country drive from Dallas to San Francisco ten years ago had its share of unexpected bumps in the road when I hit a blizzard in Flagstaff, AZ. As scary as it was for my 21-year-old self, I'll never forget the kindness of a couple of strangers, Barbara and John, RVers stranded beside me on the highway (who I kept in touch with after we parted ways the following morning). They looked after me until the blizzard passed, and we all shared adjoined motel rooms and ate breakfast together before I went on my lone way to California.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's easy to see why these memories were the brightest times of my life. Some things are just permanently etched into my memory banks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is the best yet to come? This is the longest road trip I'll ever take—some 2500 miles—not to mention my first trip in an RV. It will be my first time in Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, and Kansas. Have I mentioned just how excited I am???</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, there is some awkwardness surrounding some of my peers' curiosity and jealousy over my ability to make this move: How can a chronically ill person handle the drive, and how can I afford it? I don't like to discuss my financial situation publicly, but since I've been asked by plenty how I'm able to afford this, I'll be simple and to the point. I made some investments when I was younger that have paid off. I won't say what I made from selling my house, but just know the market worked in my favor. Plus, I'll be able to save money by living in Tennessee, as opposed to if I had chosen to stay in this incredibly expensive part of California.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It somewhat irks me that people think the above is any of their business, or that anyone thinks I somehow don't deserve this adventure. The way I see it, I want to live life to the fullest while I'm on an upswing in health. Because, honestly, who knows how long I'm going to feel good before I have another crash? Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Next year is never guaranteed. I went through hell for months straight while trying to figure out which treatments didn't make me feel like death on a stick. The way I see it, I do deserve something this wondrous and uplifting in my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most people have been supportive though. I have to say, I do have some cheerleader-esque friends who've been incredible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's the issue of fear. Just like with any unknowns in life, fear can creep in—what if it's a bust? What if I fail? Most of all, I'm worried about the elevation of some of the areas through which I will be passing. I know from experience in Lake Tahoe, Macchu Picchu, Yosemite, the Smokies, and other places high above sea level, that my body falls apart in that environment. And to be quite honest, I'm terrified that I could fall quite ill in Salt Lake City or Cheyenne. Or as early as Reno.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the fear isn't enough to make me amend my route. The only other option is to cross the Southern states, and I've done that before. I want to see Nebraska and Wyoming. I'm willing to take that risk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't say I quite understand the mechanics of "altitude sickness". I've read up on the subject, and I'm still confused as to whether it's a lack of oxygen entering the lungs, the air pressure itself, or restricted blood vessels that make me feel so sick. So I'll be packing a bottle of "liquid oxygen", some anti-inflammatories, some natural caffeine, and something else I can't remember off the top of my head. And when I fall ill—which no doubt I will—I hope I can just pull into an RV park, experiment with these remedies, and lay in bed until I acclimate. Otherwise, if I have the strength, I'll high-tail it through those areas until I reach a lower level. I can't say what I'll decide. We'll see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks, readers, for joining me on my adventure! I'll be in touch in a couple of weeks!</span></div>
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-54531454580477319802013-03-10T18:55:00.001-07:002013-03-10T19:05:53.983-07:00I Want to Live in an RV? What Am I Thinking?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy "Spring Forward"! I hope everyone is enjoying the extra hour of sunlight. I'm happy to say that, since my last <a href="http://lymetolimeade.blogspot.com/2013/02/today-id-like-to-update-everyone-on.html" target="_blank"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">entry</span></b></a> on emotional healing, I'm still feeling upbeat and positive about my life. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last month has picked up in both intensity and productivity. In preparation for selling my home, I've had a sheet rock guy come patch up my wall, a bathtub guy refinish my tub, a termite guy inspect my house, a mason install a new mantel and hearth on my fireplace, a gardener trim tree branches off my roof, a construction worker repave my concrete driveway, and I myself staged my home, photographed my home, created a flyer, filled out ten million realtor documents, and of course continued babysitting and Evoxing. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I feel a bit rough around the edges, since I've come down with my worst cold in two years—you know, the kind where you can't breathe and you can't stay asleep. I wish I could sleep off this cold like I normally would, but I've had to get up early since Friday to prepare for buyers who might decide to drop by anytime. The last three nights and mornings have been brutal, but it's nothing that won't pass, so I'm just pushing through.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As soon as my house sells, I'll be buying the RV I've had my eye on. I'll spend a few weeks preparing for my cross-country move, and before I know it, I'll be heading East! I don't have a place to live in Knoxville yet, but I've decided to be less of a planner and trust that everything has a way of working itself out. Once I get to Knoxville, I'll just live in my RV until I find the right house.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As news of this somewhat bizarre plan has made its way through my social circles, people have expressed some confusion and concern over it. So I'd like to dedicate the remainder of this entry to clarifying exactly how RVing suits my needs.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated by RVs. Then, about eight years ago, "owning an RV" was officially added to my bucket list. I always thought I'd hold off on the RV dream until I had a family or was retired. But circumstances have expedited that fantasy—and for very practical reasons.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The whole idea of RV travel came to me last summer when I made the decision to move to Tennessee. I knew I couldn't move myself and three cats to the opposite end of the U.S. in my Toyota Matrix. Not only would it be uncomfortable for my cats, it would be a nearly impossible task for me to accomplish due to my poor health. In the last couple of years, every time I've stayed in a motel, I've had immune reactions to mold, dust, remnants of smoke (which I can always smell in "nonsmoking" rooms), and the bedding. The mattresses are usually too hard for my back, the rooms are too humid, and it's just a toxic mix.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I drove across country in my Matrix, I'd be staying in motels. With cats. Three cats. I don't know how many motels would even allow that. And transporting my cats, one by one, in and out of the room every night and morning? What a pain. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'd need to make reservations, which would require me to know in advance when I'll be arriving in any given city. I'd rather not make such plans because my health is unpredictable. I may need to spend an extra day or two in any given city before picking back up again.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may need a nap quite suddenly from, say, 2 to 4 pm. For this I require a real bed, as I cannot simply sleep in a regular car. And motels don't rent beds by the hour, do they? Ew, that makes me think of prostitutes. I think I'll pass. Solution: Pull over and sleep in my full-sized bed in my RV, wake up, hit the road again. On any schedule.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's the issue of my bladder. My interstitial cystitis is so unpredictable—and when it hits, it hits HARD. Some days, my bladder and urethra will spasm for 12 hours nonstop, causing incontinence, so if I don't pee every 20 minutes, I pee in my pants. Solution: Pull over and use my own toilet in my RV as often as I need.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What about storing healthy foods for my road trip? I don't want to be eating fast food for a whole week. Yuck. Thanks to the mini fridge, freezer, and stove top, I can actually make salads and lots of other healthy foods without Yelp searching for local gluten-free, healthy restaurants, which I'm sure don't exist in the vast expanse of land between Salt Lake City and Omaha.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And while my cats won't necessarily be "happy" in a moving house, at least they'll have room to move around. Their comfort is one of my main priorities on this trip.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Years ago, when I made RV travel a goal in life, I wasn't even considering all of the practical reasons highlighted above. At the time, I was more enamored by the idea that I can occupy a space with adaptable surroundings and views. One day I can look out my kitchen window upon a mountain range, and the next day I can look out my window at a forest.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love to travel, but I abhor airplanes. RV travel and living is a pretty laid back way to travel, and obviously it's the more scenic choice. Plus, I've always loved camping, so I can only imagine how spectacular it will be to camp my RV.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, I've narrowed down my options to the Freelander or Chateau in 22 ft length. And I'm going to be purchasing this RV, because it makes more sense from a financial standpoint. I've done the research, and I just cannot justify the costs associated with renting an RV for multi-location pickup and drop-off. Thanks to the money I'll be making through my home sale, I'll probably be able to afford to keep my RV indefinitely, but if money gets tight, I can sell it. The resale market and demand for RVs in the Tennessee area is pretty good.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everything feels like a win-win. Still, some people are concerned at how I will handle operating the RV. Well, the model I purchase won't require heavy lifting of anything (like propane tanks on trailers, for instance). When I toured an RV dealership a few weeks ago, I was pleasantly surprised by how uncomplicated the process seemed. There's an opening where clean water goes, an opening where dirty water comes out, a place for electricity and a place for gas and it's all basically straight-forward.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, in the beginning the learning curve will be steep, so I'm taking a hands-on course offered by the dealership to ensure that I don't end up in a Reno, Nevada, RV park my first night, cold and confused and cranky and scared and panicking.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I also mentioned in my last <a href="http://lymetolimeade.blogspot.com/2013/02/today-id-like-to-update-everyone-on.html" target="_blank"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">entry</span></b></a>, I'm no longer requiring local access to an LLMD, due to my choice to pursue self-treatment. So my decision to plant roots in Knoxville wasn't based on healthcare access as much as it was based on weather, population, and other lifestyle factors. But Knoxville is a large enough city that it has good hospitals and doctors too.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, I'm in no hurry to get to Knoxville. I don't have a job to start or any kind of deadline to meet, so I'm not going to rush there. If I like a place I see along the way, I may spend an extra night there. Or I may hear along the way about a really cool lake or waterfall that diverts me from the main route. My point is, I'm going to try to enjoy the journey without placing urgency on the destination. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hopefully this entry helped appease anyone's worries about the choices I make. I know my lifestyle goals and experiences aren't everyone's cup of tea, and that's totally fine! I feel like I'm on the cusp of a personal renaissance! The unpredictability of what lies ahead gives me butterflies! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seeing new sights is quite literally the grandest type of fun that can be had in this lifetime, in part because new places aren't attached to anything tangible or intangible from my past. They can only be associated with the present tense. I look forward to leaving California and all its negative associations for good. At least for me, too much familiarity creates too much attachment to the past, which is something I'm working on breaking away from. Hopefully I won't recreate my old, bad habits in the future. I'd like to think I've grown up enough that I can be happy making a commitment to one place. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-28760184727828571952013-02-10T19:43:00.000-08:002013-03-09T19:38:27.610-08:00Are Diet and Emotional Healing the Golden Ticket?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I'd like to update everyone on some important decisions I've made about treatment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In short, I've decided to cease Lyme-specific treatments and focus exclusively on diet and emotional health. Through two years of trial and error with virtually every supplement under the sun, I know that I cannot tolerate much because my brain gets toxic off virtually everything, and due to blocked methylation there's little detox that provides sufficient relief — including methylation supplements which, contrary to their intended purpose, only caused toxins to recirculate through my insides. Ultimately, no binding agent proved powerful enough to remove these toxins.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not putting myself through that anymore. Besides, my gut is a lot worse for wear now than it was two years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, here's where things stand now that I've pulled way back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the diet side of things, I've completely eliminated chocolate, coffee, sugars other than fruit, and reduced my grain intake by 80%. I'm also eating gut-healing foods like fermented vegetables and broths, and drinking daily teas made of licorice, slippery elm, mastica and other gut-healing herbs. I'm also eating 30% less food in general, and doing some short fasts.<br /><br />I've noticed that the combination of reducing acidifying foods like coffee, chocolate and red meat, reducing grains, increasing consumption of stomach-friendly teas and probiotics, and fasting every few days have led to an overall increased sense of wellness. <br /><br />I never before would have thought I could tolerate fasting because I used to get hypoglycemic symptoms from the low blood sugar. But actually, since my gut is so leaky, when I fast my brain works more clearly since there aren't food particles causing immune reactions in my bloodstream. When I get super hungry though, I let myself eat again. There's no torture involved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's the diet side of things. On the emotional side, I've been doing weekly Evox sessions. It's not cheap, since it runs $100 to $150 per week (and obviously isn't covered by insurance), but it's absolutely effective and quite fascinating. Oh, what's Evox you ask? Let me back up and provide an explanation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Evox is a cutting edge technology that records your voice as you talk about certain people who have caused you grief, such as your mom who may have neglected you as a child, or your ex-boyfriend who may have controlled you, or a sibling who may have made you feel insecure, etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, the recording reads your voice's frequencies, and based on them, determines where your subconscious issues lie. Then a metal hand cradle provides frequency stimulation back into your body, targeting these emotional weaknesses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I first started hearing chatter about Evox in the Lyme community about 18 months ago, I wrote it off as hogwash. My skepticism turned into interest as friends started raving about their results, but I was dealing with other treatments at the time — so I kept pushing it back on my list of things to try.<br /><br />I finally decided to find an Evox practitioner after one of my friends insisted my emotional turmoil is such an astronomical problem for me that I would probably never achieve the level of health I yearn for unless I get my emotions in check. At the same time, another friend started sharing her own incredible experiences with Evox. I felt like the Universe was telling me something. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As someone who's been verbally abused much of my life (I prefer not to say by whom) and was bullied in school from second grade through high school, I definitely have unhealed emotional scars. And they probably are playing a major role in my sickness.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />I started Evox about five weeks ago and plan to continue until I leave California in a couple months. So far, the software has addressed my struggles with invalidation, critical thinking, unworthiness, suppressed emotional expression, and more. More than any of the other categories, invalidation seems to come up the most often — regardless of whom we are discussing in that session. I can attest that invalidation indeed feels like my strongest emotional hurdle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, after each session, I notice reactions both immediately and after a day or two. I can definitely say it's more effective than talk therapy ever was. Ultimately, I'm reacting to situations differently than before, delightfully!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I should also note that I am supplementing Evox with a Bach flower remedy called Spinifex which, when taken as drops under the tongue, reduces one's feeling of being a victim. I first tried it in the midst of a crying spell over a friend hurting my feelings, and I almost instantly felt less like a victim and more confident. I was able to stop crying and resume normal activities and thoughts.<br /><br />I feel freer than ever before. While I've always been self-sufficient in terms of managing my life, I've never felt emotionally self-sufficient. It's as though I finally understand that I don't actually need anybody else to make me feel confident or validated. I alone provide that fulfillment. I've understood that concept before, but I've never <i>felt</i> it until now.<br /><br />Every Lymie has unique needs and there is no "one size fits all" in Lyme disease. I decided I wasn't going to sit around taking antibiotics, blood thinners, cyst busters, anti-parasitics, Chinese herbs, minerals, and a hundred more supplements, since I kept feeling sicker and couldn't function at a basic level (i.e. getting dressed or cooking for myself) while taking any of them.<br /><br />The more I took, not only the more brain-toxic I felt (i.e. brain fog, impaired cognitive abilities, migraines, and rage), but the more damaged my stomach became. I had increasing bouts of nausea and dry heaving, and started to develop actual ulcers — several of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No amount of food eaten along with supplements fixed this. I would take my pills with a big meal of chicken and rice pilaf with spinach on the side, and about two hours later I would be dry heaving into the toilet bowl.<br /><br />Whether the year-and-a-half or so I spent on antibiotics killed my Lyme or not, I do not know. Actually, according to BioSet, the Lyme is still there in small amounts. But I don't think recovery should be about data or reports. I think recovery should be about how a person feels.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And since I just can't take most medications anymore — and was pretty much forced into alternate lifestyle changes — I'm noticing a marked increase in quality of life since changing my diet and starting Evox.<br /><br />I should mention, for the sake of full disclosure, that I do still take two orals daily — Cymbalta and Armour thyroid. These are my staples and are non-negotiable. And, I do take a sublingual B complex, use occasional progesterone cream, put some herbal liquid drops under my tongue as needed, and use a tanning bed once a week for Vitamin D.<br /><br />It sounds too good to be true, but I hardly feel depressed anymore! One disclaimer though — I can't say how much of this is my diet/Evox and how much is actual happenings in my life. For instance, I'm a couple months out from embarking on a cross-country move that gives me adrenaline- and dopamine-infused butterflies at the mere thought! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another example: after a close friend recently decided that he/she had "outgrown" our friendship, I chose self-respect over self-pity. Over the years, this person had found many ways to make me feel inadequate and undesirable, but I kept making them a priority. Well, we've all heard the saying, "Never make someone a priority who makes you an option." In this case, I wasn't just an option, but repeatedly reminded of my undesirable qualities. Only someone with no self respect would allow themselves to continue to be victimized in that way. For all the ways this person "outgrew" our friendship, I had enough of my own reasons to walk away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like a drug addict must brave the torture of quitting cold turkey, kicking and screaming for one more hit — only to feel overwhelming gratitude once they are clean, I am ecstatic that I have arrived on the other side of that ordeal. Whole. And loved. Fueled internally — not clinging to (and blinded by) external stimuli.<br /><br />So good things, life-changing things, are happening. All at once and coming together. Is it the avoidance of acidifying foods? The elimination of white sugar? The continuation of probiotics? The Evox? Situations in my life? The tanning bed? A combination of all of the above? Probably, yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I don't make the assumption that this is all I need, since many promising treatments have started with a bang and tapered off with time. So I'll just keep doing this and reevaluate in the near future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If I start to notice my body crumbling again, I may finally have to try the Rife machine — as-of-yet unventured territory! Hear that, Rife? You're on my list of things to still try! But no more oral medication. No, no, no. I'll do intramuscular shots. I'll stick i.v.s into my veins. I'll shove pills up my asshole. And I will plug myself into electronics. But I won't burn away my stomach lining ever again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I guess we shall see! As always, I will keep you posted!</span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-30228882876379879662013-01-20T00:17:00.001-08:002013-01-20T00:25:00.104-08:00Spiritual Article and Free Lyme Test!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recently came across an article entitled <a href="http://ezinearticles.com/?Chronic-Lyme-Disease---Metaphysical-and-Spiritual-Aspects&id=3056426" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>"Chronic Lyme Disease - Metaphysical and Spiritual Aspects"</b></span></a> which explores an interesting theory I've developed through my own personal experiences with fellow Lymies over the last two years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In her article, the author writes, "Chronic or late-stage Lyme Disease tends to affect people who have big things to offer the world. These people may already seem to be 'on their path' and often excel in multiple areas at once, including the healing arts. The illness seems to appear in people who could go even deeper with their healing and creative gifts but for one reason or another feel locked into their current lifestyle."<br /><br />I have found the above to be true for every Lymie I know, including likely Lymies who haven't been tested. After meeting dozens upon dozens of chronically ill folk online and at in-person Lyme support groups and other communal/spiritual events, an obvious type of person kept appearing in front of me.<br /><br />The auther continues, "Lyme patient patterns include: brighter than average in both intelligence and spirit, healing gifts that need even more expression than currently allowed, highly creative, and usually highly energetic prior to the Lyme fatigue."<br /><br />Yes! But why? Why do the overwhelming majority of Lymies possess the qualities of above-average intelligence and creativity? I've been trying to come up with an answer to this for months.<br /><br />As somewhat of a Myers Briggs Personality Type buff, I noticed early on that there are proportionally far more "NF" (intuitive feeler) types with chronic Lyme than in the general population. Then I heard from a chiropractor that right-brained dominance (creativity and emotion) goes hand in hand with chronic illness such as anxiety, depression and fatigue. According to him, a nervous system imbalance is responsible for this, and people can do left-brain dominating exercises (in the Myers Briggs world, left-brained people are considered "ST" or sensing thinker types) to try to balance our nervous systems and, in turn, heal our illnesses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some believe that people who are born with creative and sensitive qualities attract illness during their lives, while others feel the illness comes first and alters our brains, making us more creative and sensitive.<br /><br />It's a topic that fascinates me.<br /><br />For anyone who hasn't been able to afford a Lyme-literate doctor or the costly yet unreliable blood tests that diagnose Lyme, a new, possibly more reliable Lyme test is now available. It's a culture that takes days to actually grow the Lyme bacteria instead of looking for antibodies, and it's available for free right now. You do need a doctor to sign off on the kit — which is valued at $600 — but anybody with clinical symptoms of Lyme is eligible.<br /><br />Info about the free culture test can be found <a href="http://lymedisease.org/news/touchedbylyme/lyme-test-research.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>here</b></span></a>.</span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-57603050421959745662013-01-09T20:20:00.000-08:002013-02-12T22:54:27.871-08:00The Two-Year Mark<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy New Year!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's hard to believe it's been two years since I was diagnosed with Lyme and company — two years since my perpetual hodgepodge of mystifying symptoms was validated, recognized, affirmed, and my dishonorable labels as "that girl who just wants attention" and "that hypochondriac" got stripped off me like a giant Band-Aid in the biggest "aha" moment of my life.<br /><br />I'm gonna keep this entry short. As usual, I'm exploring some new treatments — let's face it, in spite all the confusion and misdirection in the Lyme treatment world, one thing we have going for us is a seemingly never-ending array of options from which to choose. Even those who feel like they've tried everything only need to look a little harder to see just how many healing modalities they have not yet tried.<br /><br />So I'll be back (hopefully soon) to update you on that. It's a bit early to get into it at this point.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's definitely been a harder couple of years than I ever anticipated — partly due to the terrible herxes, but also as a result of some pretty hardcore frustration. Everywhere I turned, I felt incredibly frustrated, whether from the up-and-down Yo-Yo effect (otherwise lovingly referred to as the "false alarm that I'm finally getting better!!!!!!!!!") or the plateaus in between those periods of up and down, in which I made little progress at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the last two years, I've learned that there are no fast cures for late-stage Lyme disease. If you try to imagine the most complicated puzzle you can think of, well, Lyme disease is probably twice as complicated as that. Or three times. Or fifty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another big challenge I faced was figuring out how to explain to people that I haven't been letting my illness win, just because — by all outward appearances — I've taken such interest in it. There is a big difference between letting one's illness own them and trying to educate oneself on something for the exact opposite purpose — to <i>not</i> let it own us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've also learned that most doctors are completely unfamiliar with chronic Lyme, to the point where they not only don't comprehend it but they outright deny it, in spite of the mounting (and boy do I mean mounting!) evidence to the contrary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I'll be back with a lot more soon!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-46784401952070749992012-12-12T17:09:00.003-08:002012-12-12T17:42:49.937-08:00More Improvements, BioSet, and... Avocados?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my last entry, I lauded my new probiotic-heavy regimen for my upswing in, well, wellness. Now — two weeks later and continuing with my high-dose probiotics — I can still say I'm going strong in the improvement area! I'm simply ecstatic to be feeling closer to an able-bodied citizen... for as long as it lasts.<br /><br />The journey to complete health is a constant learning curve and it's full of surprises. My BioSet session last week was no exception. <br /><br />I went in to my first ever BioSet session not really expecting to learn anything new, but still hopeful that it might address the reason(s) I'm still having inflammatory episodes (even if they are fewer than they used to be). You'll recall that, when I speak of inflammation, I'm referring to a full-body sick feeling from head to toe likely caused by an immune reaction — and not just an inflamed epidermis as you might get from poison ivy.<br /><br />Before I address the outcome of my appointment, I should explain what BioSet is. I got the following from their website:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><i>"Bio-SET uses a special protocol, Maridian Stress Assessment (MSA), for allergy testing. The MSA is computerized procedure that detects energy changes in the body and access (sic) data about functional status of organs and tissues. This technology, also called electrodermal screening, utilizes Chinese meridian theory and modern quantum physics, and detects conductivity changes on acupuncture points of your hands. </i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>MSA sends out signature frequencies of food and environmental allergens into your body and detects its reaction. If your body does not agree with the incoming frequency, skin conductivity reading on the acupuncture point would change. This indicates that the body's defiance system reacts to the incoming frequency."</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />The diagnostic machine measured which foods are causing allergic or inflammatory reactions, as well as what illnesses or infections are present in me. While the latter identified that with which I am already too familiar, the food assessment was definitely eye-opening. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was expecting it to show reactions to all those commonly incriminating foods — you know, wheat, corn, dairy... but I was not expecting to react to seemingly healthy, more obscure foods. The following is the surprising list of foods which BioSet identified as causing me to have inflammatory reactions, with the higher numbers being the bigger offenders:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Avocado 666.17 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Almond 429.80 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Garlic 116.69 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Corn, Yellow 35.89 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ginger 35.16 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mushroom 21.35 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apple 20.91 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cabbage 20.71 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wheat 17.86 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cheese 16.33 </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gluten 9.24
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The BioSet practitioner unequivocally told me I need to completely avoid avocados, almonds and garlic. The rest of the foods might be tolerated in small amounts but should be avoided as much as possible.
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, seriously? Avocados, almonds, and garlic tested so darn high? Thankfully I don't eat much of those foods... I guess.
And while I never would have realized just how bad these foods are for me had I not done BioSet, in hindsight I'm connecting sick episodes to involvement with these foods. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For instance, just a month ago, I made some guacamole from ripe avocados off my very own avocado tree, and the day after eating the guacamole developed a crippling migraine which then led to six hours of nausea which ended with me dry heaving into a bowl in my bed from where I could neither move nor open my eyes.<br /><br />Seem like an obvious, overlooked connection? Sure. But it took a whole day and a half for my reaction to culminate and peak, making it excessively difficult to connect a symptom to an offender.<br /><br />
Then there's the "almond chocolate" spread I once bought at a health-food store which made me feel flu-like and fatigued, which I assumed at the time was the chocolate. And the time I licked a spoon of raw, crushed garlic and ended up with sore, twitching muscles and nausea.<br /><br />I can't emphasize enough that the reactions were never immediate, and that my habit of snacking throughout the day — not to mention my former habit of taking supplements every couple of hours and drinking various teas — made it virtually impossible to tie my reactions to the cause. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />That's why BioSet is so useful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I mentioned above, BioSet also identified the presence of certain illnesses and infections. For instance, it identified my MTHFR and Methylation genetic mutations as high offenders, as well as my HLA (mold-susceptibility) genetic mutations, all of which I covered in <span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://lymetolimeade.blogspot.com/2012/02/how-genetics-play-role-in-this-big.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>this previous entry</b></span></a> </span>after diagnosis via bloodwork.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the time, I wrote, <i>"The more I learn about my health, the less Lyme seems to be the main offender. Lyme, a.k.a. borrelia, is currently being stripped of his throne-wielding notoriety and being lowered on the list to say, the king's youngest brother, in this multi-lateral labyrinth of a castle that houses my health."</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Just as I wrote in that entry from nearly ten months ago, BioSet has now confirmed that my genetic mutations are much higher offenders than any active Lyme (borrelia) infection. Indeed my genetics measured a whopping 700+ on the numerical scale, compared to a measly 42.72 for Lyme (borrelia). This just confirms that my inability to detox — associated with genetic mutations — is making me a lot sicker than Lyme itself.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other things that BioSet diagnosed as significant were imbalances in adrenal hormones such as ACTH, androstenedione, and aldosterone. My teeth, jaw, pituitary, gallbladder, spleen, liver, kidneys, bladder and nervous system all turned up as problematic — none of which is news to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />While going over these results with my BioSet practitioner, Jen, I expressed my frustration at my inability to tolerate the methylation supplements that are supposed to open my detox pathways. Not only were they ineffective, but they are a big reason I spent almost a whole year of my treatment feeling so sick.<br /><br />Jen assured me that there are more ways than just methylation supplements to balance and correct my genetic mutations, some of which are energy- and frequency-based. As you all know, I'm in much greater favor of energy work than oral supplements.<br /><br />I left the office wearing one such remedy: a rubber bracelet imprinted with a hologram that has been custom programmed with frequencies meant to optimize my health.<br /><br />I can't say with any certainty if the bracelet has had any positive effects in the last week that I've been wearing it. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I can say that things are better than they have been in a long, long time. <br /><br />There's nothing spectacular, concrete, exciting, or tangible going on in my life to which I can correlate this improvement. Still no boyfriend, not even a crush. No new activities. Which leads me to believe something entirely biochemical is occurring inside my body. Something wonderful.</span><br />
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I'm still hesitant to shout from the rooftops, "I'm doing better!" because it's only been about a month and it could turn right back around. And of course I'm speaking metaphorically about shouting from rooftops — I wouldn't do that in my neighborhood. That would invite some crazies from the nuthouse down the street to join in with collective shouting.... a scary thought.</span><br />
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I also realize that maintaining this newfound wellness requires a lot of discipline, because at the core, my body is still highly sensitive and unadaptable to change. For instance, a night of inadequate sleep, excessive exercise, cold temperatures, and poor dietary choices are still big threats that are capable of knocking me down.<br /><br />Indeed my health is dependent upon adhering to my high-maintenance lifestyle of selective choices. I fantasize about being able to awake early in the morning feeling rested, or go on a playful jog, or eat whatever I want, and not pay the price later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just last week, all it took was two hours of playing with two toddlers at a park for me to come down with a cold. <br /><br />Either as a result of germs contracted at the park or the chilly weather (or a combination of both), my body succumbed to a full-throttle mess of sore throated, congested glory. The point here is — I'm not completely well, even if under the illusion of feeling decent. I am still immune compromised, underneath all this newfound healthiness. </span><br />
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So yes. When I break away from my comfortable, mostly-indoor, unaerobic lifestyle and dive head-first into the elevated-heart-rate-infused frenzy of chasing hyper babies through a microbial-cesspool-laden terrain in a brisk autumn chill, something is gonna give. Something <i>has to</i> give. That's my body for you.</span><br />
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Maybe someday I'll reach a new level of recovery that isn't dependent upon so much detailed criteria?</span><br />
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But for the time being, as long as I obey my body's rules, I'm feeling as good as I've ever felt. Considering everything I've been through and my prior sense of complete lack of control over my spontaneous and explosive symptoms, I'd say this is an improvement worthy of some major gratitude. <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">♥</span></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-32342462900061166732012-11-27T22:48:00.002-08:002012-12-11T23:08:28.530-08:00Probiotics and Leaky Gut<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last few weeks have been marked by steady progress. I've had less all-consuming sick days and more normal days, which is super encouraging!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this time I can say definitively what's behind my upswing: probiotics.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've taken a small dose of probiotics for the last couple years, but I never gave them much credit or placed them very high on my priority list. While I've always known that in some ambiguous way they are good for my intestinal flora, I never equated them directly to any symptomatic relief. Everyone around me seemed to have intestinal disturbances, while my stomach aches have always been specific to my upper GI. Since my bowel moves, colon health just hasn't been on my radar.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It turns out probiotics do a lot more than promote healthy intestinal flora and good digestion. They actually balance and heal the immune and nervous systems.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Depending on whom you ask, 70 to 85 percent of the body's immune system lies in the gut, and 90 to 95 percent of the brain's serotonin is produced in the gut, and still a majority of the nervous system resides in the "second brain" — the gut.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those of you who are long-time readers of my blog know my worst symptoms stem from overreactive nerves. I have what's coined "neurological Lyme disease" because my nervous system is damaged from the spirochetes and other pathogens.<br /><br />During a recent conversation with a Lymie friend, I was reminded that, by default of having neurological Lyme, I have a condition called "<a href="http://www.everydayhealth.com/digestive-health/what-is-leaky-gut-syndrome.aspx" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>leaky gut syndrome</b></span></a>". This isn't as gross as it sounds. It just means you have weak intestinal permeability and molecules pass through your digestive tract into your bloodstream — which they shouldn't — causing immune responses like inflammation and allergies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Further worsening leaky gut syndrome are things like persistent infections, parasites, overuse of antibiotics, stress, and overuse of sugar, gluten, caffeine, and alcohol. (And I can check "yes" to all of the above).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friend explained to me how important it is to heal a leaky gut in order to heal the immune system and nervous system. By healing the gut, a person will have less immune and neurological reactions, which seem to have been my biggest issues all along.<br /><br />There's a big, huge world of information out there on healing leaky gut with bone broths and fermented foods, and probiotics are also touted as a major contributor to intestinal health because they actually help heal the gut lining. Being "good" bacteria, they're also known to naturally kill bad bacteria in your gut by essentially moving in and replacing them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I've tried about a zillion supplements over the last two years — and have been told dozens of conflicting things by many health professionals ranging from MDs to chiropractors to homeopaths — I didn't put too much credence into this probiotic thing. But nonetheless I decided to increase my daily dose of probiotics threefold and add in some new kinds. (Note that there are many types of strains out there each with their own purposes).<br /><br />It's been a few weeks and I already feel a lot better in surprising ways. It seems the severity of each of my symptoms has been reduced. I'm mildly to moderately calmer, more clearer-headed, feeling happier and less moody, less sensitive or reactive to chemicals, and overall more productive. I definitely still have chronic fatigue and aches and pains — so I still have a long way to go until I reach remission — but this is the first significant improvement I've felt in a very long time!<br /><br />All thanks to..... not a doctor or medical practitioner of any kind. Just a friend. And considering the fact that doctors have put me on way more harmful than helpful medications in the past, I feel like it's about time I no longer follow any medical practitioner's advice like a blind sheep walking off a cliff.<br /><br />It should also be noted that I haven't taken any methylation supplements in over a month and I think those accumulated toxic waste dumps are all finally out of my system.<br /><br />It's too soon to say if this upswing holds any long-term promise, but it's a start in the right direction. It's about damn time, too.<br /><br />I'm really surprised that probiotics have had such a good effect on me. I never would have guessed that they could help so much. All this time, I've thought, "Good bacteria? Whatever. I don't really want that but I'll take a bit." Oh, how little I knew. My body really needed a lot more of this good bacteria than it was getting! <br /><br />Speaking of which, if you're in a similar situation as me and you're looking to add probiotics to your diet, skip the Activia yogurt cups — which have hardly enough probiotics in them to do anything — and go for some legitimate supplements. The following are the products I've taken so far and like, although I'm sure there are many more out there that I have yet to discover. You can try one or try all of them on a rotating schedule.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-15118277272065209262012-10-22T21:25:00.001-07:002012-10-26T17:55:58.710-07:00Competitive Victims & Are Lymies Narcissists?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 20px;">First, I'd like to say thanks so much to everyone who saw me through the challenges I faced earlier this month, as described on my last blog entry. The depression and anxiety had reached a new maximum and were pushing me to the brink, but luckily I was able to diagnose a very hyper thyroid as the culprit. And now, I'm feeling a lot better after cutting my thyroid medication in half. Being so severely hyperthyroid is an out-of-control monster that tortures from the inside. It was horrendous. But it's better now. I'm so relieved.<br /><br />Onto this entry now.<br /><br />In high school, my best friend was a free-spirited, beautiful, rebellious, talented artist named Maisie (I've changed her name to protect her identity). </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">Maisie and I would sneak off our elite, prep-school campus to smoke cigarettes and explore new places together. We were both creative romantics who lusted after handsome boys, chased random kittens, and sang in unison to the Fiona Apple songs that blared from my Toyota's speakers. We gave each other makeovers using glittery powders, styled each other's hair, and shared our sullen poetry with each other. <br /><br />She was my platonic soul mate.<br /><br />But our friendship was rife with drama from the start. In spite of our similarities, we had some rather blatant differences. For one, she was always drawn to the wrong men — drug-addicted, abusive, high-school dropouts, one after the other — as early as our teen years. And while I was able to succeed academically, she regularly struggled to arrive to school on time or turn in her homework, causing her to fall behind and not graduate with the rest of us in June 1999.<br /><br />I had a hard time with her explosive, desk-kicking tantrums in classrooms; she had a hard time with my lack of complete, unconditional and accepting love and support of her.<br /><br />After a series of fights, we finally stopped speaking when she failed to show up at my dorm for a planned weekend visit — standing me up after I had already blown up the air mattress I specifically purchased in preparation for her arrival. <br /><br />I later heard that, ever since sh</span><span style="line-height: 20px;">e had ballooned in size our senior year, she had been telling our mutual friends she despised how easy it was for me to stay skinny and couldn't wait until I got fat someday. Then it dawned on me: I suddenly realized she was — and had always been — deeply jealous of me.</span><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br /><br />It would be almost ten years before we would speak again. One day in 2008, out of the blue, she contacted me on Myspace. I was excited to renew our friendship and easily forgave the past, happily chatting about her new baby and eccentric life adventures. Hearing from her after all these years had brought me to tears. Happy tears.<br /><br />But then I realized the true reason for her contacting me: she needed money and had exhausted all other options. I didn't have any money to give her — and incidentally, she still owed me $75 from high school (but I didn't see any need to remind her of that) — so her interest in renewing our friendship waned.<br /><br />Fast forward about four years later — to about a month ago. After recently adding many old high school friends on Facebook (including Maisie), on this particular late summer day I was feeling distraught over several facets of my bleak condition — including the way the medical community treats my disease, my poor prognosis and recovery, and the fact that very few old friends have said anything compassionate to me regarding my condition even though they're almost all aware of it by now. <br /><br />Yes, I go through periodic bouts of feeling sorry for myself — usually cyclically aligned with my menstrual cycle. Whether that's acceptable or not, the emotions are very real, and I occasionally express them on Facebook, in between my more common posts about kittens and the arts.<br /><br />So, on that particular day, feeling pensive and unappeased in general, I posted the following lengthy status on my Facebook page (the lack of capitalization/syntax is just a personal stylistic quirk I apply to social media)—</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">"i wonder - if i had cancer/diabetes/AIDS, would people still invalidate my symptoms as stress or laziness? probably not. should we blame the common man for a lack of interest in this disease, or should we blame the medical establishment for misleading the public that all lyme disease is 'acute' - treatable with 2 weeks of antibiotics - not acknowledging its chronic state despite a plethora of scie</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">ntific evidence that it exists? by no means do i let my disease define me, as noted by my scarce statuses about it: i prefer to focus on beautiful, exciting facets of my life. & when i have issues with lyme that i want to talk about, i go to the lyme boards, or i blog about it. never wanted my profile to be overrun with lyme talk. but maybe i should talk more about it on my profile because people need to start paying attention to this disease. it's a MAJOR problem in this country and largely ignored by doctors who prefer to invent diseases like 'fibromyalgia' (usually lyme). laymen need to be the ones to stand up and demand that it gets acknowledged, but for this movement to succeed, non-lymies also have to care enough. we don't have any national organizations behind us organizing 'walks' or fundraisers like other common diseases do. i blog about my experience with lyme to try to educate non-lymies about it, to help others with the disease know they are not alone, and to keep my old friends informed on my status. about 95% of its readers are lymies, as i've found very few of my old friends are interested in learning about lyme or keeping up with my daily struggles. that's fine. it has taken on a new purpose and i love that i am able to help lymies through blogging! but if i want to get the attention of non-lymies, posting on facebook about lyme might actually be more educational, albeit more annoying and ultimately prompting more unfriendings. i guess i will take that risk. my actions will always try to serve the greater good of humanity, whether seen as popular or not."</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span style="line-height: 20px;">Yes, I'll admit that was kind of a rant and a call for attention both to myself and to Lyme disease. <br /><br />I badly needed support that day, and luckily that status got some warm comments from like-minded warriors who knew all too well what I meant, as well as some non-Lymies who thanked me for having educated them on a disease about which they had previously known nothing. I guess that's one thing Facebook is excellent for — we all teach each other about new things all the time.</span><br /><br /><span style="line-height: 20px;">What I did not expect was Maisie's own status on her Facebook page — posted almost immediately after my own:</span><br /><span style="line-height: 13.981481552124023px;"><i><br /></i></span><i>"You know what pisses me off? Passive aggressive, self-pitying people who are in denial about their own level of self-involvement. We all have problems. For instance, I am a single mother, living with my parents again, returning to finish my college education on a grant; I have no child support and I have an order of protection for my daughter against her father. And that doesn't even scratch the surface of medical or emotional issues. So what do I have to say? We all have problems. Get over it. As the Buddhists say: life is suffering. And as I say: it's what you do with the pain that counts."</i><br /><br />I was saddened by her knee-jerk emotional reaction — her perception — of my status, rather than her taking the opportunity to read the words I actually wrote. <br /><br />To take the opportunity to listen. To want to understand the enigma of a disease her old friend was experiencing. To want to learn about Lyme, about what I'm going through. To understand the medical politics, the controversy behind it. To educate herself for the sake of expanded knowledge. For the sake of learning something. Or for the sake of reconnecting with me.<br /><br />If she had made an effort to get to know me beyond my status, she would have learned I'm hardly sitting around being miserable about my condition, and that I live my life to the fullest that I can.<br /><br />Anyway, I do understand some people's lack of interest in listening or learning. The disinterest is rather common; but the troll-like passive aggressiveness launched at me was unfamiliar territory, and quite frankly, shocking. It left me with no choice but to delete her from my friends list. Not to mention how ironic I found it that she herself was criticizing passive aggressive people when that's exactly what she was doing in her status. Hmm.</span><br />
<br style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And by the way, she is correct — we do all have problems. But invalidating another person's problems due to the perceived severity of one's own problems isn't fair. Why aren't Americans entitled to complain simply because there are children starving and living in slums in India? Every opinion and feeling is a valid one independent of the rest. We need not compare everything to something else. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />It really is sad that she had to make a competition out of our foibles. I would have been there to offer an ear if she had wanted to tell me about her struggles. I know she struggles with her own challenges surrounding raising a child on her own. My health is completely shot, with nearly all my organs malfunctioning, and yet I don't think I deserve any award for being a bigger victim.<br /><br />The problem is, ofte</span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n people who've made a mess of their life want to be the bigger victim than their fellow perceived victims. They've quasi-programmed themselves into this mentality. They will always be the biggest victims of all. <br /><br />And they absolutely despise when they're forced to acknowledge that their perceived competitors have a serious, legitimate disease on which to blame life's flops and missteps, when they themselves made messes of their lives without any good reason. <br /><br />That may be snarky of me to say, but it's the truth — look at the people who criticize us most for our health struggles... aren't they almost always the ones who are miserable and underachieving? Their missteps are in competition with ours. Hence her knee-jerk reaction and outpouring of complaints in her status.</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday it became clear just how much she despises me, when I was forced to actually "block" her — which I should have done when I unfriended her, but it hadn't occurred to me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On this more recent incident, she had publicly announced on a mutual high school friend's page: "Ignore Leila. She is always cranky and self-absorbed" after she didn't agree with a comment I had made on said friend's page — which, by the way, had absolutely nothing to do with Maisie and only served her own desperate need to attack me in any way possible. I will never understand what fuels internet trolls or why any adult would behave in such a way. And I don't engage in childish attacks, so I just blocked her.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The truth is, I'm slightly concerned that, if she is as pathologically obsessed with tracking me down for the sole purpose of launching attacks as I think she might be, then I wouldn't be surprised if she somehow unearths this blog. Although I think it's highly unlikely she knows about it or reads it. <br /><br />Letting her back into my life after all these years was a naive mistake on my part. I'll be more careful and discretionary in the future. We might idealize the notion that humans evolve into better people over their lives, but sadly, many stay the same or their worst qualities get worse. I wish it weren't so.<br /><br />But enough about Maisie.<br /><br />What is it about c</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hronically ill people being </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">labeled narcissists because our illnesses force us to focus inward? A few select individuals have labeled me as either a narcissist or self-absorbed. Is it because I blog?</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I majored in journalism in college and greatly enjoy writing — so of course I'm going to chronicle my experience, and nobody is forced to read it. Writing is pleasurable and therapeutic, and frankly, one of very few things I consider myself good at. Does that make me narcissistic?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As for the chronically ill in broader terms, you see, in order to get well, we have no choice but to be careful about our dietary choices, extracurricular activities, medications, and pretty much everything else we do... and we're often unable to be social when we're sick. This focus inward gets mistaken for self-centeredness.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />There is a huge difference between being self-centered and being so sick that we have to follow a high-maintenance regimen. That's just the nature of the beast.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, what about when we take our plight public on Facebook and Twitter? Do our educational weblinks about health, or our progress reports, or our emotional pleas when we're rushed to ER in the middle of the night make us narcissists? Let's compare ourselves to our fellow average users on Facebook and Twitter. Going off that logic, who <i>isn't</i> a narcissist these days? <br /><br />Our modern day culture trains us to be narcissists by the very nature of social media. We all post photos of ourselves, our pets or our babies. We share what music we're listening to, what we ate for dinner, or when we've arrived at the gym for a workout. My friends who are business owners <i>all</i> promote their businesses on Facebook and/or Twitter; no exceptions. We're all basically crying out for attention in a virtual mob desperate for some recognition.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People with Lyme disease are also often accused of being "obsessed with Lyme disease" (I know I have been.) That's just baloney. Only because there is so much misinformation circling the websphere about Lyme are we forced to research this incredibly complex disease on our own. And so what if we're "obsessed" with our disease? People are obsessed with makeup, fashion, their exes, sports, and many things around which their lives revolve.<br /><br />One thing I can say with certainty about our "obsession with our sickness" is that this "obsession" fuels our drive to get better for every single one of us, because it keeps us trying new protocols we read about — in our desperate attempt to get betters. A lack of "obsession" breeds apathy, and once we reach the apathetic point, we've given up on even trying anymore.<br /><br />I'd rather be obsessed and get well than ambivalent and stay sick.<br /><br />As for constant negativity, believe me: Lymies are careful about how often we whine online. We hesitate every time we do it. We're painstakingly aware that we run the risk of being labeled "negative" if we so much as utter a word about a day of seizures or locked joints.<br /><br />But considering what my friends with Lyme disease endure — from paralysis to migraines to food allergies to chronic fatigue to joint pain to seizures to tumors — all caused by the same disease — I'm pleasantly surprised to say we're actually not as negative as I would have expected. We're actually pretty darn optimistic, hopeful, and appreciative of life's simple pleasures, in spite of facing so many "diseases in one".<br /><br />So it's hard to hear people speak ill of us. Whether we're accused of being whiney, self-absorbed, obsessed with being sick, or many of the other harsh judgments thrown at us, we must remind ourselves: these are just judgments. Plain and simple. These people would rather judge than understand.<br /><br />Thank you for allowing me a place to write this. Thank you for letting me engage in some linguistic therapy, to share my story, and for your interest in reading it. Thank you for listening, and I hope my story helps others who've faced the same accusations to realize it's not you — it's them.</span></span><br />
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Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6695267254254356855.post-2243077631730860032012-10-09T18:41:00.001-07:002012-10-12T22:36:48.297-07:00Imagine: Stand In My Shoes<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I invite you, the reader, to take a moment to imagine the following scenario.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First, imagine that you are a thirty-year-old woman. This is the prime of your life. You are still young with dreams of starting a family.<br /><br />Imagine you've been diagnosed with infectious and autoimmune diseases for which you've been in treatment for nearly two years — only to be sicker than ever.<br /><br />When you began treatment, you were able to eat virtually anything you wanted without repercussions, but you no longer tolerate most foods. You cannot use most cosmetics. You cannot be around people wearing fragrance, or exposed to sunlight or fluorescent lights. Any such exposure sets off a range of symptoms from sudden nausea to migraines to extreme fatigue.<br /><br />You even avoid cooking because your gas stove and oven produce a gas that makes you incredibly sick. You've been told you have something called "Multiple Chemical Sensitivities" which has no cure.<br /><br />Imagine that several supplements which, up until recently, provided some relief, are suddenly having an opposite effect.<br /><br />One such pill, Cymbalta, has now created a catch-22 situation whereby you have not only started having bad reactions to it but you also cannot quit taking it without suffering even greater reactions (due to withdrawal effects). Imagine that discussing this with your psychiatrist or other physicians only produces raised eyebrows and more questions.<br /><br />Many other things including the blood thinner you are supposed to take — without which you face a risk of blood clots and strokes — are giving you allergic reactions.<br /><br />Imagine you're no longer able to hold your bladder, and in spite of pricey tests and procedures — including having your narrow urethra dilated — there is nothing that can be done except to pee in your pants several times a day.<br /><br />Now imagine trying to go to the store or visit a friend when you could spontaneously and uncontrollably urinate on yourself at any moment.<br /><br />You cannot stand on your own two feet anymore because it triggers your postural ortho-tachycardia syndrome, making it necessary to be sitting or leaning against something at all times.<br /><br />You can no longer use a cell phone because it causes migraines and electrostatic popping feelings in your brain within moments of its usage.<br /><br />You've seen a number of the "best" doctors in the Bay Area who have done some excellent things for you — they've managed to successfully get rid of your parasites; they've also corrected your Hashimoto's thyroid disease with the use of thyroid supplementation.<br /><br />But they've also used you as a guinea pig for many treatments without backed research. Supplements that are supposed to balance your gut, detoxify mold and staph overgrowth in your body, improve mood and energy, and modulate your immune system have all further damaged your health.<br /><br />And insurance doesn't cover any of these doctors or medications, so you've spent tens of thousands of dollars out of your pocket.<br /><br />Imagine that you've reduced your dosages of supplements to one-tenth of the normal dose after experiencing negative reactions, only to hear that you "must" take the full dose or else you won't recover.<br /><br />Imagine your doctors, naturopaths, other practitioners and members of the Lyme community urging you to continue to take the things that are making you so sick, because "you have to get sicker before you get better."<br /><br />You've even altered your lifestyle and your diet by eliminating all alcohol, gluten and dairy products but have experienced no relief. You've had chiropractic adjustments and energy healing which has produced excellent, transformative results which, sadly, only lasted a day — and then you returned to homeostasis.<br /><br />You've stopped drinking tap water, stopped using non-stick pans, paid the Smart Meter removal fee, use earthing devices, and a lot more.<br /><br />Your quality of sleep is poor, marred by vivid nightmares every night, and teeth grinding so severe that your dentist made you the strongest, most heavy-duty mouthguard available on the market. Your teeth grinding, completely out of your control, was so bad it caused damage to your jaw.<br /><br />Imagine your nose runs every minute that you're awake. One day, when you were about twelve years old, you caught a cold — and it hasn't gone away. You've taken allergy pills, gotten allergy shots, had surgery to repair your sinuses, and still your nose drips like a faucet every day, no matter where you are or what you eat. You've been carrying tissues with you for eighteen years.<br /><br />But the physical symptoms have nothing on the emotional ones. You're facing the worst depression and anxiety of your life — anxiety so gripping, so monstrous that it feels like you've been poisoned with stimulants, a sensation a hundred times worse than when you drink too much coffee. <br /><br />You've chewed off your lips and the inside of your mouth. You've picked at your skin until it's covered with scabs. You can't sit still; your legs and toes must be in constant motion. You can be exhausted but it still takes two hours to fall asleep. Your thoughts race. You're impatient and constantly rushed. You feel bouts of rage and extreme anger. You feel like a monster has taken over your brain and only an exorcism can save you.<br /><br />People say, "Just relax" as though you hadn't entertained that thought before. As though this is somehow within your control. As though meditation and visualization can get rid of this horrendous anxiety which you are convinced is biochemical and not psychological.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(<b>Update 10/11: </b><i>As per the anxiety, it turns out I had become extremely hyperthyroid. Hyper, not hypo. With Hashimoto's disease, the thyroid swings from hypo to hyper and requires constant monitoring. Focusing on the infectious side of my health meant that I had neglected to monitor my thyroid and grew too comfortable with (and trusting of) my daily thyroid supplement — a medication meant for hypothyroidism which essentially has been overdosing me for months, thereby making my thyroid hyper. Huge mistake. And it accounts for my feeling of manic, gut-wrenching anxiety, which — I knew — was not psychological but rather, purely biochemical. It's a horrific feeling. Thyroid should never be overlooked. Never. I blame myself for delaying appointments with my endocrinologist and taking my thyroid for granted. I have thyroid disease which can have a huge impact on my well-being. Huge. Anyway, it's good to solve at least a small piece of the puzzle — hopefully the worst part, but at least one part. Back to my hypothetical now.)</i><br /><br />Imagine you are college-educated, with degrees in both journalism and graphic design, but that you can no longer work in your field because you cannot sit in a chair, stare at a monitor, or use a mouse for more than five minutes at a time without developing neck pain, eye pain and neuropathic pain in your hand — not to mention the extreme fatigue that makes an eight-hour work day impossible.<br /><br />Imagine your favorite hobby to be songwriting, but that you just had to quit your band of seven years with two EPs under your belt because you can no longer perform.<br /><br />Imagine your friends have stopped checking on you. While they used to send sweet one-line text messages to show they care, they don't do that anymore. They post photos on Facebook showing themselves having fun at parties that you used to be invited to. When you reach out to them, they suddenly act like your best friend. They use ungenuine, over-the-top endearment and offerings of help with groceries or transportation, but when you text them in moments of need, they're always busy. I have a word for people who are all talk and no action — fake friends.<br /><br />So, okay. You can't work, you can't participate in your band anymore, and your friends are busy living their normal lives. You have zero communication with your mother or one of your siblings, and no family lives anywhere near you. You haven't had a boyfriend in three years. You are completely alone.<br /><br />And it's your birthday in just a few days. But you have no plans because you know you won't feel up for doing anything, nor is it likely anyone will do anything surprising or fun for you.<br /><br />But, imagine that in spite of all of this, you put on a brave face to the world — smiling wherever you go, photographing yourself at the beach or playing with your kitties — and you're doing such a good job of masking the pain that people are saying they are actually <i>surprised</i> to hear that you are not well.<br /><br />For years you've resisted posting whiny Facebook statuses documenting your health. Day after day, when you pee in your pants, or have an hours-long episode of dry heaving, or have sharp pain in your spleen, you instead update your Facebook status with a funny anecdote about your cat — or art, or political humor or whatever might give off the impression that you are okay — because, God forbid you start to come across as a perpetual whiner.<br /><br />Sometimes you turn your pain into humor, adding "LOL" to the rare symptomatic-themed status. Your freakish symptoms can be cause for amusement. But mostly you resist talking about them at all.<br /><br />And now you're considering taking a different approach by no longer trying to cover it up. You're not going to put on the makeup, style your hair, smile for photos, or try to be funny or cute on Facebook. You're not going to say "I'm okay" when people ask how you are feeling. You're going to be honest.<br /><br />What will result from this shift? Surely people will become annoyed. People will worry about your "depression". You won't be as likeable. Oh no! Less likeable? A life-long fear.<br /><br />Honestly... what would you do if you were in this situation? What would you do if all of the above applied to you? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you talk about it, you're deemed a complainer. People think you dwell on being unwell. You're told to get out more, do more stuff, but how do you do that if you can't stand upright or be around scents or hold your bladder?<br /><br />(Switching to first person now). I do not write all of this to complain or to get pity. Nor am I looking for attention. I am writing all of this to let you know where things currently stand and what I am enduring. This is reality. This is my tortured daily reality. Okay, I don't mind a little bit of sympathy. Not the ungenuine, over-the-top kind, but a sympathetic gesture from time to time is nice — just being honest here — even though that's not why I blog.<br /><br />I also want everyone to know that I have completely ceased all my treatments for the time being. Completely. No more tiny doses of anything. I am done. I refuse to continue to live in this condition.<br /><br />I believe that my supplements have blocked my methylation pathways so severely that my body's immune system response has become so hyperactive, so maxed out, so overworked, that I am having an immune response to everything. Taking an indefinite break may allow my immune response to normalize. I'll keep you posted.<br /><br />The one thing that's been helping in extreme moments of despair (which have become daily episodes) is Benadryl. What's interesting about this is that Benadryl — while hard on the liver — is an anti-histamine, an anti-inflammatory, and an immune suppressant, further supporting my theories about what's going on inside of me. By virtue of its composition, it's helping me with allergic reactions, inflammation in my brain and organs, and temporarily calms my overactive immune system. It also relieves anxiety and helps me sleep. It's the wonder drug for now. But it's not a solution.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Leilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09820775300736232329noreply@blogger.com8