Monthly Archives: July 2017

Tough Break

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If I thought I was a hot mess before, with a fused spine, Multiple Sclerosis, breast cancer, and recent issues with my back, I had no idea it could/would get any worse. Especially since I’m a big believer in universal karma that gives us back what we put out there. I like to think I put my positivity out to the universe, and I do feel that I have always been taken care of as a result.

This week as I nurtured my back, icing it, stretching it, seeing my chiropractor and my acupuncturist, plus using my portable TENS machine at home, I started to finally feel like I was turning a corner. Then due to a 4 am wake-up call from my beloved Marty  and a subsequent fall down the stairs (which is not really unusual for me except I usually fall UP them) I ended up with two broken toes right at the joint where they meet the foot. I’m used to falling but usually I manage to do it without actually breaking any bones. I have had my share of scrapes, bumps, and bruises (mostly to my ego), but this is a new one for me. When I woke up a few hours later and discovered two of my toes pointing the wrong direction and bruising starting, I knew it couldn’t be good. But, it also could have been much worse.

6-8 weeks of this lovely shoe. Plus no yoga and only upper body workouts. This is a massive bummer for me. Particularly the no yoga part.

It’s true that for the next six-eight weeks, I will be very limited as far as physical activity goes: no yoga, only upper body exercises, and a lovely shoe that I must wear for the foreseeable future. Life with MS does this. I’m always working my butt off to take one step forward and then something silly (and often avoidable) happens, setting me back two steps. It’s an endless cycle.

The truth is that I am not invincible, contrary to how strong I feel at times. My MS family and I talk about this kind of thing a lot. We can do lots of difficult things because we are focused when we attempt them. But it’s the little things we do that we take for granted (like walking up or down stairs), and assume we can do them as easily as always, but that’s just not the case. Everything is harder when you have MS and even more so when you can’t feel your feet. Patience is easy to preach but hard to practice, specifically for someone like me, who likes to keep her body healthy and moving.

In a way, this fall happened for a reason. I tend to push myself too hard and seldom take time to rest. I often need reminders to slow down because when I’m feeling strong I just keep pushing. My body has been through a lot, and I have worked it hard even through cancer. I am 100% aware (now, if not before) that I need to give myself a break (no pun intended), not put so much pressure on myself, and be grateful for all the things that I can still do.

This is just another minor setback and I have no doubt that I will come back stronger than ever, both mentally and physically. A friend of mine shared this ancient Chinese Proverb with me, because he sensed I was feeling low: “Fall down seven times. Stand up eight.” It’s definitely the story of my life with MS, but I’m so glad he was quick to remind me. It’s what I do, and what all warriors do. As much as I may have wanted to throw my hands in the air and give up about a gazillion (or at least 40) times in the last 14 (+) years, I refuse. It’s not an option. I know I’ll rise, stronger, wiser, and hopefully with more self-love and patience when I get to the other side of this.

Plus, at age 45 I finally can say that I have broken not just one bone but two… at the same time!

Frustration

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Ok. I admit I am not the most patient person, particularly when it comes to myself. I have never felt pressure to accomplish anything by anyone except me. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel it, in fact I feel that the pressure we put on ourselves is way worse than what comes from external sources such as parents, siblings, bosses, or even our own spouses.

This is not a new issue for me. I have been doing this my entire life. It’s a result of being a perfectionist. I’m not talking about simply being happy when you feel like you’ve done something perfectly. That’s a pleasant feeling for most. But for a true perfectionist, it’s so incredibly difficult to ever feel satisfied. It’s actually an illness just like depression and OCD. I got straight A’s in school, not because my parents insisted or rewarded that behavior with anything more than “Good job!”, but because I had to be perfect.

That behavior came along with me through my working years, especially as a teacher. I would have felt that I was doing a disservice to my kids if I didn’t do the job with the passion and dedication that I did. And that meant spending more hours at school than at home, and spending more time with my students and co-workers than with my own husband. Feeling satisfaction with my accomplishments that feel imperfect to me (as I compare myself to my past self) has not been an easy obstacle for me to overcome. It’s hard work and I work on it every single day.

So why am I bringing this up this week? Well, as I write this, I am heading into the third week of dealing with back spasms and soreness. For most people three weeks is not a lot of time. As a former teacher, I thrive on schedules. My “job” since retirement is staying strong and volunteering. I’m lucky enough to have an amazing trainer (the best!) who knows how to work with any and all medical conditions. But I have canceled my volunteer shifts for three weeks now, and I miss my furry friends!

Feeling unsettled and off my schedule is one of the hardest things for me to deal with. With all my follow-up appointments with my oncology team happening last week and this week, I have added in chiropractic care and acupuncture. And while I’m still working out with my trainer, I’m not able to go all out right now, and I miss that. I miss my at home workouts that now are amounting to little more than stretching and gentle yoga moves, and I’m missing my yoga classes. I guess that’s ok since so much of my time has been focused on getting over this hurdle with my back. I wouldn’t have time to do much more anyway considering how many appointments I’m running to.

In addition to feeling out of sorts because of the whole schedule thing, I’m frustrated. I’m stronger than I’ve been, maybe ever but I am learning that these things happen and I need to take a step back and allow myself the time to heal. This body of mine has been through a lot in recent years: Multiple Sclerosis, Spinal Fusion Surgery, and Breast Cancer just to name a few… When I look at things that way, it makes the current situation so much easier to tolerate. I am, after all, only human. And despite it all, my sippy cup of lemonade will always remain half full.

Unfortunately lately the time on my mat is spent with my foam roller, ice packs, and my portable TENS machine. 🙁

Partner

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The other day, Bruce turned to me, and asked me why I always refer to him as my partner rather than my husband.  It’s not that he was upset or angry about it, it’s just that he was curious. And looking back at the many blog posts that include him in any way, I do always refer to him as my partner.

I looked at him and I almost didn’t even know where to start explaining. I mean partner encompasses so much more than saying husband or spouse. By being partners, Bruce and I share every single aspect of our life together.

This is the exact spot where Bruce first saw me walking across campus, and last summer we went back to the scene of the crime!

By simply calling him my husband, no one would know that he is my care partner. He is the one I lean on when I’m not feeling well, and he puts everything else aside for me during those times. He supports me physically when I’m not well by picking up my share of the slack around the house while still working full time. He does this without complaint, knowing that if the roles were reversed, I would do the very same for him.

Calling him my husband doesn’t reflect the depth of our friendship, that started when we were just 18 years old. He was my best bud for years before we started dating, and the history we shared during those years made our relationship much more special when we finally did get together. That’s how I knew it was for keeps because he’s still my best friend. He’s the first one I turn to when I need love and support. He makes me laugh so hard that I cry (and maybe even pee a little bit… but that could be MS too!?), and having him beside me, even if we are just sitting in silence, provides me with the kind peace of mind that calms me to my very core.

Saying that Bruce is my husband can’t possibly do justice to the guy who loved me even when my entire life revolved around my job… and even more when I added graduate school to the mix, taking away more time together from the already limited amount we had. Even when we were spending time together, I was always thinking about school or grad school. I was seldom fully present, but he supported me anyway because that’s what partners do.

Being my partner means that he has chosen to continue on our journey together despite the many obstacles we have faced. Being my partner means sharing the burden equally, and that burden can be pretty weighty at times. But when we each take half, it’s not so bad. Bruce wears many hats in our world… best friend, care partner, husband, fiancée, soul mate, and partner.

A reenactment of one of the very first pictures of us, taken in New Hope, PA.

I can’t even remember what it’s like to not have him as my partner, or when his title evolved to partner. What I do know is that having him as my partner in life has made everything better, including MS and breast cancer. Having him as my partner means I smile wider, love harder, and give thanks every damn day that he is there.

The truest sign of our partnership is that we complement each other so that each of us is better because of the other. With all that being said, it is true that Bruce is my husband. But he is my partner in this life, and being my partner entails way more than just being my husband. Plus, he’s the captain of #TeamRankin… and as we all know, #TeamRankin never loses!

Mind over Matter

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Me, introducing myself to new yoga instructors:

“Hi! I’m not a beginner but I am a hot mess. I recently had surgery and breast cancer treatment so my reach is limited on my left side. Also, my spine is fused so in some of the twisting poses, you’ll see me modify my movement. Oh yea, plus I have MS so I am heat intolerant, and balance is an issue so in some balance poses you’ll see me head to the wall. But I know my modifications, and I know my body so it’s likely that you won’t even notice.”

Her response (grinning at me, wide-eyed the whole time, probably thinking oh crap what the hell has walked in the door to this studio???):

“Ok! What’s your name?”

It’s the little things most people take for granted that I need to clarify every time I take a class with an instructor who doesn’t know me.  But my trainer takes the summer off from our yoga classes, which makes me happy because her family is around and she deserves vacation just like the rest of working world… or more so, if I’m being honest. But having to explain my unique circumstances to a complete stranger, often in front of a studio full of other strangers, is something I definitely do not enjoy, regardless of how sweetly the instructor reacts.

This is something new I have been practicing and it’s all core starting from this position…

…and then pushing up to this position, and repeat as many times as possible.

Quite frankly, I AM a hot mess… I didn’t lie about that part. I play it off like a joke, but it’s a sad truth. I am not down on myself about it, but I know that people look at me with the same deer in the headlights look that the instructor looked at me with (even though she grinned at me the whole time). The point is that I know how to manage the cards I have been dealt, no matter how crappy I feel at times. That’s why I embrace every single day I’m given, even the bad ones.

This weekend my back, as it sometimes does, was acting obnoxiously and I was suffering from brutally intense spasms. It felt a little wonky on Friday, but after stretching it and rolling it with my muscle massager, it seemed ok. But on Saturday morning, before I even got out of bed, I was emotional over some personal stuff, and the spasms were excruciating. For all the work I do on myself, both physically as well mentally, I was so mad at myself for letting my emotions wreak such havoc on my physical body, which is stronger than it has been, probably ever.

This little tool is a lifesaver for sore muscles!

I do believe that there is a strong body/mind connection, which is one of the reasons I was so upset about my back. Yes, I do the physical exercise that is required to stay as strong as I can. But the mental exercise is even harder. I journal twice a day, every day. This allows me to acknowledge my gratitude, understand my weaknesses, and even praise my own “wins”. I’ve been seeing the same therapist for years now, and my work with her is far from done, although I am improving all the time. I meditate faithfully, allowing my body and mind to both be still as I let go of all the unnecessary crap that weighs me down. I read (well listen to, actually) self-help books that teach me how to love myself and to be proud of who I am. I even see a Reiki Master in an attempt to keep my chakras open, allowing my energy to flow freely and release any toxins that might be gumming up the works. Yet still, there are moments when my mind actually gets in the way of my physical progress.

At these moments, I remind myself that I am human, and more importantly, that I simply can’t control every single aspect of my life no matter how hard I try, or how badly I want to. Although this physical manifestation of something much deeper was more painful than I even thought possible, it was a reminder to me of so many things: slow down, listen to my body, nurture my spirit, and allow my emotions to come out rather than bottle them up. This is quite an important lesson for every single one of us, since the mind can do such powerful things to our bodies.

I may be a hot mess, but I don’t let that keep me from living a beautifully happy life despite it all. In fact, I am grateful for each part of me, even the icky parts, because that is how I have learned to live my life out loud, for the entire world to see. It’s not an act that I put on, but rather the authentic way I choose to live and show others that true happiness is always right in front of you. You just need to be open to seeing it. And once you do, it is amazing how differently you will see yourself and your place in the world.

My place in the world will always be right next to this guy right here. #teamrankin