You Are Not Alone

Our bodies are not meant to be perfect... Yet.

About a year ago I found myself feeling pretty sorry for myself one evening. My vision was changing every 4 months since August 2018 when it originally took a downward turn. And every time it changed, the headaches and dizziness came with it.

Each day that I waited for my new glasses wore on me physically, mostly in the evening hours when the headaches would get worse. I was grieving the loss of my healthy, unchanging eyes. I remember what I said as my husband held me: "My vision changing every 4 months makes me so angry, but now that I know this is the cause of my symptoms I know I can handle it even though I don't like it. It's the thought of it getting worse or changing in the future that I don't think I can handle."

Here we are, one year later, and my vision has changed every month this summer. Every month!

I've learned to trust myself, though. I've lost count of how many eye appointments I've had the last couple years, but every time I get my exam my suspicions are always right and my vision has indeed changed. I'm getting so good at this now that I can even predict which eye(s) has gotten better or worse. Go me!

Sometimes I have this thought that I should just become an eye doctor so I can test my own eyes as needed. It could save a lot of worry and waiting in the long run, I think. But, that is not my passion. This is my burden.

My passion is helping others through my own trials and growth to learn and grow through their own trials. And that is why I write. The drive behind my writing is a hope, maybe even a mission, to help at least one person know he or she is not alone. And so, this is my message:

You are not alone in mourning the loss of a part of you that you loved and maybe even took for granted without realizing it, until it was gone. You are not alone in worrying that things might get worse. You are not alone in holding on to those glimmers of hope you get from learning more and being helped by patient, caring loved ones and professionals. You are not alone in trying to adapt to a new normal, all while trying to balance the already existing complexities of life and current plans. You are not alone in fearing the unknown, wondering if that unknown might someday get in the way of your goals and dreams. You are not alone in your struggles.

It is in sharing our experiences and caring for each other that gets us through the hard times. I am grateful for my support team around me who gets me through the sorrow I sometimes feel.

As a wise friend recently reminded me: Our bodies are not meant to be perfect [in this life]. And that's kind of the point. To struggle so that we might grow. To feel pain so that we might know joy. To know burden, so that we may feel peace. To believe that, someday, all will be restored again.

"Every time the ache fades and smiling gets easier it's like coming up for air. We cannot recognize one without the other... The light comes, even after the ache threatens to consume..."

(Quoted from @thelindsayreport on Instagram)

Pain & Joy

My vision changed. Again. Just like I thought it would, in the eye I thought it did. Even though this has become a regular occurrence it still scares me to pieces every time.

It's not as simple as just going to the eye doctor. It's a whole process:

I notice my headaches and dizziness get worse.
I confide in Dackota and tell him I don't feel good and hate that I'm dizzy.
He suggests maybe my vision has changed again.
I tell him it hasn't even been 4 months this time...

I get up the nerve to call the eye doctor for an appointment.
They say, "Sure, we can get you scheduled. Let me just pull up your profile... Oh! It looks like you were just here three months ago. Are you sure you still want to make an appointment?"
Me: "Yes, I'm sure. I have a dizziness condition and my vision changes frequently."
I give them my new insurance information and that's that.

The next day I get a call, "Hi Staci, I'm wondering what insurance you will be using for your eye appointment next week. I can't find the information for it anywhere."
I give her my insurance information again.
"Okay, thank you! Oh! It looks like you were just here in October. Do you still want to come in?"
I'm not sure if I want to anymore. But yes.

Having to explain myself each time why I need to come in again after only 3-4 months is frustrating. I know it's not their fault, but it makes me feel like I'm crazy. And yes, there was a third phone call!

Thankfully the eye doctor knows what he's doing and validates me every time I go in. He says he can always tell when his vision changes even the slightest bit. "You must just be sensitive to it," he says. THANK YOU FOR NOT MAKING ME FEEL CRAZY.

The moment he said, "Yep. You were right. Your right eye changed just the slightest bit," a warmth of relief washed over me. Relief that I was right about what I was feeling (even after only 3 months). Relief because my symptoms are being caused by something I still have a bit of control over. I can handle having to get a new prescription every four months. But if the day ever comes when it becomes something new, something worse? I'm not ready for that.

But then when the eye doctor tells me lasik eye surgery (which I had in 2014) is probably the cause of my frequent vision changes it makes me want to cry and tell the world to NEVER GET LASIK, just in case!

It makes me feel regretful that I ever did it, wondering if the dizziness that accompanies my vision changes is caused by lasik, too.

I lean in to those feelings for a brief moment, long enough to acknowledge the hurt and uncertainty I feel. Then, I let the feelings pass and remember that I have come so far since that August 2018, when there were even more unknowns. When I felt like my eyes and brain and "normal" were all falling apart.

That was a time when doctors were throwing me into the label of PPPD (Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness, which I still might have along with vision changes) which really just said "we don't know what's wrong with you but we've seen other people with similar symptoms so we will just call it something to lump you all together" category... That was crappy. So I took matters into my own hands and spent hours - painful hours, both physically and emotionally - researching on the internet what could possibly be wrong with me.

And I figured it out. I figured out that it had something to do with my eyes. And even then it wasn't just an easy fix. I saw two separate eye doctors, who gave me two very different prescriptions. I decided to trust and go with the one that felt right and ever since have experienced amazing relief from this crazy, mysterious condition, able to live my life [mostly] how I choose to.

So. I'm writing this post to process it all, but also to share what is quite possibly the most vulnerable part of my life in hopes it helps someone. I believe our most vulnerable experiences can connect us, can help us to love deeper, can make us stronger. We may find pain in hard times, but maybe we can take a piece of that pain and turn it into strength.

Being dizzy and having eye problems, whatever they are, is on my mind all. the. time. Nearly every moment of every day sometimes. That's what happens to us with trials and tough things we don't choose for ourselves.

But you know what? At the same time I'm also thinking about what a kind husband I have, what a fun dog I have, how neat it is I get to go to school again to grow and learn more about a passion of mine, what a blessing it is to have a nice home and a family I love more than anything. Somehow, if we are open and (this next part is key) LOOKING for it, the dark times can shed light on the brightest parts of life, often just when you need it the most.

So. I choose to find joy in other parts of my life to take along with me and my pain. I hope you can, too.

Also, having a goofy pup like Larke around makes everything better.

It's true what they say about dogs:

Unconditional Love.

(Both ways)

I Am The Best Person for This

There are two people who taught me the concept of believing I am the best person for this.

The first was a client I once had who, for this post, we will call John.

John was a very religious man and was once a Father in the Roman Catholic church. He enjoyed his jobs of younger years as a DJ and then florist, but I think his spiritual role was always the closest to his heart. He loved helping people and through his position would counsel people and families who were going through end of life stages.

He had a stroke pretty early on in his retirement years that left him mostly paralyzed on his right side. This greatly limited his mobility and required him to have a caregiver to help him with personal care and housekeeping. He lived many more years after that, with his mind fully intact.

He began losing more and more mobility and, ultimately, was diagnosed with ALS in the late stages. ALS (also known as motor neurone disease or Lou Gehrig's disease) is a slow loss of muscle function, 100% fatal, with few treatments to improve quality of life (http://www.alsa.org/about-als/2013-aam/).

The last time I saw him in his home before he moved to a care home was the day he taught me this important lesson. His mind was sharp, but his body was deteriorating before his eyes. And you know what he told me? He said, "You know, it's better me than someone else because other people might not have the faith that I do."

I couldn't believe it. The function of his body, his independence, and his home were about to be stripped away, and he had enough faith to, essentially, say, I am the best person for this.

The next person who taught me this lesson is Jody Moore. Jody is a certified life coach who has an incredible podcast called Better Than Happy. Her podcast changed my brain for the better which led me to join her program Be Bold. While coaching clients Jody likes to offer them new thoughts to "try on." One particular woman was struggling with doubt regarding a niece coming to live with her. She wasn't sure if she was the right person to help her niece make a life turn around. Jody suggested, "What if you chose to believe that you are the best person for this situation?"

I don't know why, in that moment, that particular phrase stuck with me so strongly, but it has truly changed me. There are many experiences in this life I didn't choose or want that I also can't change, but I can try to choose what thoughts I believe about these experiences.

For example, I have a dizziness condition that is not even fully understood at this point. What if I chose to believe that I am the best person for this experience?

Maybe I am the best person for this because I have a family who loves and supports me and I am not alone. Maybe I am the best person for this because I knew how to research and be an advocate for myself and learn what helps and what doesn't help my condition. Maybe I am the best person for this because I believe the bad "stuff" helps us see and feel the good "stuff" even more. Maybe I can be the best person for this situation by having faith that, though it is not perfect in this life, my body will be perfect and whole again in heaven someday.

For the record, believing this doesn't negate the totally real feeling and thought that "This totally sucks, I wish my eyes and head would heal." More than one thought can be true!

I encourage you to "try on" this thought with a situation in your life that you did not choose or can't control and let it grow within you to, just maybe, become true.