When You Finally Break Through

12722105_10206219450420164_543549126_n

I’ll be the first to admit it, 2015 started out awful, it had a great high with the writer’s conference. After that, my stability was chipped to pieces. It was the worst year of my chronic pain and illnesses, I was going from doctor to doctor, each one swearing they knew how to fix it. I was let down, multiple times, by people who I had loved and trusted, who were close to me and I was more vulnerable. My depression was at an all-time high and I was asking doctors to refer me to a psychologist because I realized that I needed some professional help.

Suicidal thoughts swarmed my brain and I came to the sad conclusion in my last post that I may never be well again. When I said so to my boyfriend, thankfully, he believed for me that I would be well when I couldn’t even believe it myself. I felt abandoned by people and couldn’t understand why God couldn’t just throw some healing my way from the sky. But it was all in good time if it hadn’t been for the journey, if it hadn’t been for all of the pain physically and mentally, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I wouldn’t have met all the other wonderful people who are fighting their own battles and we do all have our own battles to fight. I wouldn’t have learned to depend on God, instead of doctors and medications.

My dermatologist told me up front that he didn’t care about my pain, it was the last time I went to see him.

The pain management doctor that I believed could truly make a difference ended up causing a chronic migraine that lasted for two and a half MONTHS. When that didn’t work, he told me to exercise an hour a day, 6 days a week. And not to come back until I could do that for three months.

My rheumatologist told me just keep on working at my job, I told her I had already lost it from not even being able to walk.

On top of my pain, the chronic migraine and nausea limited what I could eat and it was a struggle just to find things that wouldn’t make me feel sick.

Then, just when I had given up, just when I thought that pain was forever. I got a comment on my last post, telling me to look into a holistic doctor and I did some research and found one. He wasn’t anti-medication, but going over things we realized how many medications had caused issues which led to my depression which led to me feeling worse and having more trouble sleeping in an endless loop.

One night when I was still awake at 7 am after a night of struggling to sleep, I saw a friend posting about how well she had slept, how her chronic pain was going down. I inquired about it and looked into Plexus. It wasn’t some miracle drug that just cures all your diseases, but it does help regulate your body systems and at this point I felt like my body was falling apart. Instead of grasping at straws, this time, I sat down and prayed about it and asked God to provide the money for me to get it. I also talked about it with my holistic doctor.

Within 5 days of taking it, my sleep had improved and my migraine had gone away for the first time in two and half months. I felt better on the inside, more peaceful, not so depressed, almost happy. Truly happy for the first time in a long time, not because my situation had changed, but just because I felt better on the inside.

I realized just how badly my body had suffered on the inside from all of the medications that I had been on and yes, all of my poor food choices beforehand. I could really only blame so much on the medications themselves.

After seven years of chronic illnesses and pain, I finally had a break through.

I’ve been taking it for almost a month now and the changes inside my body have been phenomenal. I wish that more doctors would tell people about natural changes and supplements that can help our bodies to recover, but I also take responsibility for not looking into it sooner myself.

My chronic pain is not completely gone, I still have a mild bit of pain in my back. But it is nothing like it was before, I have much more energy every day, I’ve said goodbye to chronic fatigue! I sleep deeply at night again and don’t keep waking up. I’ve been losing tons of inches around my waist, suicidal thoughts no longer cloud my mind, everything is clear again and some days I feel like I’m in a dream compared to where I was last year.

Before I started Plexus, I had come off all of my medications for Fibromyalgia under the guidance of doctors, not on my own. I am now only taking Synthroid, for my hypothyroidism, and a medication for migraine prevention. Otherwise, I’m just taking my supplements and feeling happy and healthy. My body has almost fully recovered to the point where I feel I can exercise again.

Most importantly, I feel like I can live again.

I wanted to share this because I would not have known about this as an option if someone had not shared it with me. I thank God every day for helping to guide me, providing for me and for starting out 2016 with so much positivity and hope. I’m thankful for everyone who believed for me to be well when I couldn’t believe it myself.

12648011_10206104280180980_1778893499_n

I know that Plexus is not a cure for diseases, but what it does for the inside of your body is truly amazing. I didn’t try out Plexus originally for the weight loss, I just knew my body was really messed up and could definitely use help with regulating everything. I take the Tri-Plex and Xfactor, along with 1000mg extra Vitamin D, as was suggested to me by my holistic doctor, and 1000mg calcium a day.

I have learned the importance of taking care of our bodies and every day I’m making smarter food choices, it’s like a load has been lifted off of my mind. All that time I was chasing after different medications to try, what I really should have been focusing on was giving my body the tools it needed to fight back and slowly heal the damage done.

I know this was a long post, but I haven’t updated for a while and had a lot to get off of my mind, thanks for reading through to the end!  God bless! ❤ Thank you to everyone who was still supporting my blog while I was away.

Advertisements

Pemphigus Vulgaris: Part 3

If you’ve missed the first two parts, please click here and read them first: Part 1 or Part 2

pemphigus chair close up
Chair inspired by pemphigus

My doctor put me back into the hospital immediately, so they could reverse the issues caused by the new medication on top of my flare ups. On the days when I couldn’t take the pain and had to take pain medication, my mind became too fuzzy to do my schoolwork, so I started learning to suppress the pain and think of other things. It was a hard process, and it took much of my willpower, but school to me became a driving force like nothing else. In my mind, it was my way of fighting my disease. Because I could still do this one thing.

The nurses at the hospital often saw my struggles and they helped me to prop up my textbooks, set up my laptop and encouraged me to do well and raise my GPA. I wanted to cry from their kindness, or even from the pain, but the salt from my tears would only burn my face (I had learned that the hard way), so that too, I pushed down. They couldn’t get an IV into me during the stay, they kept popping out every couple of hours and this led to me having to receive a PICC line (peripherally inserted central catheter). They talked it over with me and said I would need one to take home with me anyway to continue my treatments. I was frightened, but compared to the rest of my pain, the numbing needle and the installation of the PICC line was nothing. I didn’t even feel it when they cut into my arm and inserted the line through my insides to my chest area, instead I watched it on a computer screen while they gave me hilarious narration to keep my mind off of it.

This time I was hospitalized for a week, and I felt despair grab hold of my soul. You see, at the time I never knew this disease would be long term. In fact, with my diagnosis I was told that it only lasts about 6 months. I had since then switched dermatologists and it began to settle within me that this was long term, that this might always be my life. It was then that the darkness began to consume me, slowly and quietly it whispered to me that I could never live the life I wanted. It was over.

I didn’t feel brave or courageous, I only knew that it hurt me to cry. And I knew it hurt my family to watch me suffer, they were there with me day in and day out in the hospital in shifts. And when I finally got sent home after a week, with my PICC line still attached, my parents learned how to administer my treatments. Including a treatment they would have to wake up for in the middle of the night. I saw how much work they put into my survival, and I realized that I could only do the same and fight as hard as I could to live.

I was eager to return to my sculpture class, but with my PICC line still attached, I was housebound. And I wasn’t sure who I thought I was fooling, I couldn’t even sit up. Every day I pushed myself to try to move my weak body, it was days before I managed to roll over, but in my mind that was a small victory. Each flare up with pemphigus reduced me to the helplessness of a newborn baby. I could do nothing for myself, so I tried very hard to recover what I could immediately. From my first roll over, I worked from there to roll to a footstool on the side of my bed and back to my bed. From there, I worked, strained, to lift myself to my feet. After I worked out this pattern, I could get up by myself.

My parents encouraged me to walk a bit every day, I still remember my dad chanting “You can do all things through Christ!” as I struggled up and down the stairs, one step at a time. Hating my weakness, proud of my progress, but wanting to be better, stronger. I hated this disease, but also it was a part of me now, there was nothing I could do about that.

After so many treatments from the hospital and home, the infection still lingered and I had to do vinegar baths. No matter how much we tried to dilute the vinegar it burned me to no end, I would scream as it went into every open sore but all I wanted was to be free of the infection and I did whatever it took. It did indeed take out the infection once and for all, and my face finally cleared of the green. In the middle of the night, I had wiped my face with tissues crying and I noticed the green came off. Hopeful, I wiped off the rest of it and saw that the infection had finally lost its hold. I wept so hard that night, praising God for this one thing, the infection on my face had made it hard for me to move my mouth to eat because it hurt so badly just to move my face.

Finally, I could have the dreaded PICC line taken out of me. My dad recorded the progress on video when the nurse came to our house to take it out. Surprisingly, it was just as painless as they told me that it would be. I didn’t feel a thing as it came out of me. I asked if I could keep it, and they let me have the IV part of it. I wanted to always remember what it was like, even though I wanted to forget. I wanted to remember, because someone else might be where I was at during that place. Our pain is never wasted, if we can use it to give hope to others.

I struggled with walking still, but at this point I had missed about 6 weeks of school and I was determined to do whatever it took to catch up with my classes. My mother was working from home to take care of me, and though I couldn’t walk all the way I leaned on her and my sister and they half carried me to the classroom and I began to work with a vengeance. I was behind, but the art poured out of me faster than I could control. I was a whirlwind of grief and emotion, and my teacher gave me a very special project, he allowed me to pour my disease into a chair. To make it the embodiment of all of my suffering, to make it pemphigus itself. And I did.

I destroyed the chair, I cut into it, ripped it apart, redefined the outside. As much work as I did on the poor old chair that I used, I noticed that the insides were still the same. Butchered though it was, it hadn’t changed what it was, it was still a chair. As I worked on this project I realized, after a long time, I had pemphigus but it wasn’t who I was. I was still me, I just didn’t know who I was. I had forgotten my life before pemphigus, because it had ceased to be. Even now I can’t remember how it felt to have no pain, to be on no medications.

The project ripped into my soul as I worked, it made me ask so many hard questions of myself that I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. I could only press on. I finished up my chair by hooking it up to the same IV that had once been hooked up to me, and it was one of my first pieces that made it into the student art show:

chair hooked up to the iv

I titled it Pemphigus Vulgaris and it sparked many conversations about what the name meant, and I saw some people googling it at the show and I was happy. It was the first time I had sparked conversations about it. I had talked about my disease with my art teacher, he had been the first person to actually ask me about it. I was ashamed of my disease, and I tried to hide my scarring by wearing long sleeve shirts all the time.

Even now, every morning when I wake up, I can look down at my arms and see the stretch marks, the remnants of my skin thinning out from the steroids and bleeding. When the doctor told me they would never go away, I felt defeated. But now, looking at my scars, I thank God for how far I’ve come. I acknowledge pemphigus, not as something that has taken over my life, but as an opponent. And really, isn’t that what everything that comes against our life is?

Some people think I’m strong for dealing with pemphigus, I really don’t feel that I am. But the more I think about it, we are all strong. There’s not a one of us that should be called weak. I have pemphigus, depression, things that I have to fight in this life. But so do you, maybe your battles don’t look like mine, or maybe you too have an invisible disease that torments you, either way, you’re strong too. Because you’re still here and you’re still fighting, even if you don’t feel like fighting right now, that’s okay. Gather your strength and fight another day.