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Graduation

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This past weekend was indeed very special for me. I did not go on vacation or to any place where I don’t go several times a week. I went to a spot that feels like home and is incredibly important to me. But what happened there was different than any other time I have spent there, and I left feeling grateful, loved, grounded, and even though I can put my ego aside when I am practicing yoga, yesterday I felt proud… because yesterday was the official graduation celebrating attaining 300 hours of Yoga Teacher Training with my gypsy soul sisters. We actually finished with our training back in June, but our studio was in the process of relocating, so we waited to celebrate in our beautiful new space. It was worth the wait.

Chanting with the sunlight pouring through the windows of our beautiful new space.

Last August, I decided to deepen my yoga practice by enrolling in Teacher Training, not really sure where the journey would ultimately take me. I felt stagnant and that there was some sense of purpose missing from my life, which is not an uncommon feeling for someone like me. I was a high school teacher and I loved my job with every fiber of my being. When MS decided I could no longer perform my job in the way it deserved to be done, I was lost. I had no job, no identity, and no purpose. I had been practicing regularly for about a year when I was given a scholarship to the yoga studio because the owner happens to be passionate about MS and has a foundation that funds scholarships for people like me, because yoga memberships are expensive! I was so grateful to her for seeing something in me (really just through Instagram) and I dove in, putting myself in front of as many teachers as possible.

This amazing yogi is also a champion for those with MS and I could never repay what she has given me by offering me that scholarship because it changed my whole life. Instead of paying her back I hope to be able to pay it forward…

The class I connected most with happened to be a Friday morning class with Maria, who ultimately brought me on the journey through teacher training to certification. I was drawn to her passion about being true to the ancient teachings and even though I never thought it would be the case, I loved the harmonium and the chanting, connecting us all by the simple unified vibration it brings about. So when she started talking about her teacher training, i was there to find out more. I committed on the spot, and I’m so glad I did.

The one and only Maria. The original Gypsy Soul. The radical teacher. I could sit and listen to her talk about anything yoga forever and ever. She’s my yoga hero.

Bruce likes to say that I was married to yoga for ten months. It isn’t easy to commit to anything when you have MS. I spent two weekends a month in class, studying during the weeks, practicing every day, It was intense and amazing and my head would spin with the huge amount of deep knowledge that was being passed down to me. Everything is harder when you have MS, and there were many times when I thought I might throw in the towel. I have to read things many more times than my classmates because of cognitive issues related to MS. Practice itself is harder for me because I don’t feel my feet (neuropathy) and sometimes I physically press my feet down where they need to be because muscle has memory, and that’s the only thing I can do to train them. And anyone with MS knows that balance is not easy, but I continue to work until sweat is pouring off of me. That’s just MS. Let’s not forget about breast cancer leaving me with limited range of motion in my left arm because of lymph node removal and lumpectomy, and a fused spine that inhibits twisting. Most people would listen to that laundry list of issues, and dismiss me as being a hot mess. But my teacher and my classmates embraced me with all my issues. Instead of doubting me for being “disabled”, they complimented me and never wasted an opportunity to lift me up and tell me to look at what I can do, despite it all.

Our small but mighty group.

My life is forever changed from taking on something I never thought I could accomplish, and yet I did. Yoga is about detaching from ego and I do that quite easily on my mat, but to think of how hard I worked to attain this (so that I can pass it on to teach others) makes me feel strong and proud. Since taking on this challenge, I see just about everything differently. I am more aware of myself and my body, how I react to others, and the mark I am leaving on the planet. I hope I will always lean on these teachings to guide me, because there is a reason that they have been passed down for thousands of years.

Special family came to witness this. My uncle did YTT in the 1980’s before yoga was even a thing. Hes wearing a t-shirt that he earned back then (I think he said 35 years ago), and its tattered and torn… and so very special just like he and my aunt are to me.

My message is pretty clear, I hope. For anyone who struggles with a disability, do not let it stand in the way of your dreams. We are all capable of anything as long as we are patient with ourselves and we use the tools that are available to help us. I don’t care if I was the weakest link in my class because my life (aside from being 20 years older than one of my yoga sisters and 10 years older than the other) has unfolded in a very different way than anyone else’s. I. Still. Did. It. And so can you.

Mama B and Bill are so supportive. They enjoyed this much more than when they came to watch me kill myself doing a Spartan race.

(Maria, Justina, and Liz… I have no words. My gratitude for you is deeper than I could express, and my love for you girls is endless. Thank you for traveling this journey with me, and I know that now that our paths have crossed we will all continue traveling together. And Bruce: my rock, my best friend, my biggest fan. You may have felt like i was married to yoga but without you I would be nothing. Thank you for being my everything. And no picture of you because I know you wouldn’t want it.)

*** NOTE TO MY READERS: I am taking a family vacation so I’ll be taking time off to be fully present there, and I’ll be back with new content on September 10th. “See” you then! 

 

 

 

Holland

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This week, I met up with one of the few friends I have left who came into my life as a co-worker, and we talked about how five years ago I moved to Holland. Not actually, but metaphorically. In brief (for those who don’t want to read about it from the link), Holland was not in my plans or on my radar at all. I was ready to head to Paris. I did all my research, and I was fully ready to embrace my home in France. I knew all the restaurants in the neighborhood I hand-picked, all the museums and festivals I would go to, and I even started to learn some of the language.

Sadly, after making the trip, I found myself not in Paris at all, but in Holland instead. I had no idea where anything was, where I would live, the different cultural events that would interest me, and I don’t speak a word of the language because I was prepared to be elsewhere. Not that I had an opinion on Holland, just that I hadn’t planned on being there, and I panicked.

This is a metaphor for what I thought my life was going to be versus what it turned out to be. I was happily living my life as a high school teacher, MS and all. I knew that it was getting increasingly harder for me each year to be the teacher that my kids deserved, but never did I imagine such an abrupt ending to what I can only refer to as my calling. I have no regrets for the way I did my job because I don’t know any other way to do it. I was ALL in. Always. All ways. Nothing came before my kids and my school… absolutely nothing: not my husband, not my family, not even my own well-being. It was my identity and I was proud of it. I could have changed my approach but I didn’t know how. Every June on the last day, I would tell my husband that I made it through another one but I wasn’t sure how many more I had in me. I spent 15 amazing years in Paris. I wasn’t ready to go when MS said it was time.

This is just a sampling of the many former students who remain in my life. They all hold their own special place in my heart, and they are the greatest rewards that my career gave me.

So my MS and I moved to Holland. I wasn’t happy to be in Holland at first. Everything seemed so strange to me. I went from having everything scheduled down to the exact time I could go to the bathroom, to no schedule whatsoever. I went from being surrounded by people and activity, to spending more time alone. I went from my identity as Mrs. Rankin, with a clear-cut purpose, to Rennie… no identity and no purpose.

Adjusting to Holland was not easy. But you know what? I began to work on myself, and I began putting myself first. I learned to make a schedule for myself because there wasn’t one for me. I learned to surround myself with the most amazing people who always lift me up and remind me that I am worthy of good things, especially while I was figuring out who I was without being a teacher. Most importantly, I found purpose. It really hasn’t changed, it just shifted to a different audience, even with a little overlap from my old life.

This wonderful metaphor that I learned from my therapist has helped me so much as I have built my new life from the bottom up. I have a renewed spirit, a fresh outlook, and so much gratitude for everything even though life did not go according to my plan.

Not according to plan, yet still moving forward with purpose and a sense of self.

What I am trying to say to anyone who is struggling is that life is meant to be lived and enjoyed, and that reinventing yourself is possible no matter where you find yourself.

As human beings, we need to roll with the punches, knowing that we are capable of changing and growing despite any obstacles we face. We are innately  resilient, even if we don’t realize it right away. When I first got to Holland, I did not think I would ever be happy here. But now, five years later, I can’t imagine myself anywhere else. But I learned to trust in the universe and in my own ability to adapt, which may have been the most empowering part of this whole journey. After all, we can’t rely on anyone for our happiness because then you’re always setting yourself up for disappointment. But believing in yourself is where all of the power comes from.

I am endlessly grateful for the sense of peace I have and the fact that I can fully appreciate the beauty in life.

Before I get too far off track here, my point is that regardless of where you are, true happiness abounds as long as you are open to it. I didn’t expect to be in Holland, but I love it here. I am happier, healthier, and so much more grateful for everything than I ever was before. And you know what? The lemonade here in Holland is incredible, and my glass remains half full, as always.

Diagnosiversary

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In preparation for my blog this week, I decided to read what I had written about my diagnosiversary in past years, because I just can’t let June 2 slip by without acknowledging it. I read through the entry, and I realized that on this, the 16th anniversary of my diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, I would have written the same exact thing I shared last year (which I shared from the year before, and the year before that) on the topic. The feelings I experienced on that day, and during the weeks and months that followed, are still as raw and as powerful as they were 16 years ago. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, telling the story immediately brings me back to that moment in time, so here’s what I have shared in years past. Nothing has changed about that day, except year 16 has brought many challenges, but it has also brought many more rewards for which I am grateful every single day. Last year, I thought I was a bad ass and attempted a Spartan Race to acknowledge where I am all these years later. This year, I showed a little more common sense and spent the day in the best way possible: with my satsang of Gypsy Soul Sisters continuing our studies towards our 300 hour Yoga Teacher Certification. Much smarter of me… plus no sprained ankles or massive injuries to add to regret! So here’s what you go through when you are diagnosed with a chronic, progressive, and debilitating disease. 

Nothing says FU to MS like a strong Warrior II pose. I feel so powerful whenever I take a Warrior pose in yoga because the word “Warrior” is how I describe anyone who lives with a chronic illness.

June 2 is a very special day for me. It’s a random day, and it probably means nothing to anyone but me (and possibly my husband). It’s an anniversary that does not celebrate a milestone or an accomplishment, but June 2, 2003 is a date that I will never forget. On that day, I was given a diagnosis that undoubtedly has changed the course of my life.

Every year on June 2, I am brought back to that day, now [sixteen] years ago. I relive the details of the day moment by moment. I remember what I ate for breakfast (oatmeal), and I remember what I was wearing (white and blue plaid capri pants, a blue button down shirt, and white and blue sneakers). I remember stopping at Dunkin Donuts for a large iced coffee (black) on the way to school. I remember the panic attacks. All. Day. Long. I remember that I had permission to leave after my last teaching period so that I could get to my appointment on time. I remember that my appointment was at 2:30, and I remember that Bruce took a half a day so that he could go with me.

So we got in the car, not talking to each other at all. On the way to the neurology appointment, we stopped at the radiology office to pick up a copy of the MRI results, just in case the doctor hadn’t yet received them. They kindly folded the paper and put it inside an envelope. In the elevator up to the doctor’s office, Bruce asked me if I was going to open the envelope. Without hesitation I said no way. I knew I wouldn’t understand what was written there, and why not just have these last moments together before the inevitable?

We sat in the doctor’s office, staring at each other, waiting for for him to deliver the news. We didn’t talk. I was too busy having one panic attack after another to even attempt a conversation. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally heard his footsteps approaching. We heard him pause outside the door, and we heard him pull my chart out of the bin outside the room. Then, to our complete and utter shock, we heard him let out a huge sigh, before knocking once and entering the room.

The doctor walked in, greeted us, and told us that I have Multiple Sclerosis. From that moment on, it was as if I was watching someone else’s life unfold. I only heard bits and pieces because my mind began racing. To be fair, I was not yet educated on MS, but at that moment, it felt like I was given a death sentence. We know now that MS is fatal in only the rarest, most severe of cases, yet there was a part of me that did, indeed, die that day. The road ahead of me required a complicated detour that I was not sure I could even navigate.

We left the doctor’s office in a total daze. Suddenly we were occupying space in a world that was completely different for us, yet for everyone else it was unchanged. In this drastically different world, what did we do? We went to Target. I guess we were searching for some sense of normalcy in this new, unknown world of ours. We sat in the car afterwards and called our families to share the news. It wasn’t exactly the kind of news I looked forward to delivering, but at least I finally had an answer. After months of appointments, X-rays, MRIs, blood work, evoked potentials, and cognitive and neurological tests, I was done. It’s not what I wanted nor what I expected, but it was something. The phone calls I made on June 2, 2003 were some of the most difficult conversations I have ever had in my entire life.

Following my diagnosis, Bruce and I holed up at home, and didn’t speak to many people other than each other. Some friends called to offer support, and others dropped off the face of the earth. All the relationships in my life were tested, and certainly the dynamic within them shifted. I learned a lot about my friends, and mourned the loss of many who did not know how to deal with my diagnosis. Sadly, this happens with every relapse, but [16] years later, my coping mechanism for that kind of loss has been fine-tuned, and I have built a support system that holds up.

On this day every year, I take inventory of my life since diagnosis. It has not been an easy journey, but it has been amazingly rewarding in so many ways. Since my diagnosis, I have learned that I am stronger than I ever imagined I could be. Everyone has an inner strength, but not everyone realizes it because you don’t summon that strength until you need it. I have discovered my voice to educate and to raise awareness, and my passion for patient advocacy. These are integral parts of who I am, and without MS I don’t know who I’d be right now. One thing I know for sure is that on my diagnosiversary, I always give thanks to the powers that be for all of the parts of me that MS has made better, and for all the things I am still capable of doing despite the MonSter.

For [16] years I have acknowledged the importance of my diagnosiversary, and this year is no different. I’m still grateful for the many gifts I’ve been given, and even though my journey has not always been an easy one, I know that every bump in the road makes me a stronger, better version of myself. I don’t celebrate the anniversary that falls on this day. I celebrate all the things that I have managed to accomplish, all the things I can do, and all the things I am, MS and all.

I would be lost without this guy, my rock, who has been at my side every step of the way, regardless how rough the terrain has been. **photo credit: Idalia Photography**

Headstands For Hunger

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Recently, my fellow yoga teachers in training, our instructor, and an alum of this YTT (that I am LOVING!) decided to do some Karma Yoga. Many forms of yoga don’t include an actual physical yoga practice, and Karma Yoga is the path of service. This annual event supports our local community by collecting money (as well as food) for both humans and animals.  It’s a dog-friendly event which takes place at a ginormous venue: the Asbury Park Convention Hall.

We got there early because we were volunteering at the event. We also brought with us a decent amount of both human and pet food, as well as our financial contribution so that we could also take the class.  Wherever we were needed was where we went. It didn’t seem like a huge deal to us, but it made a big difference to the event organizer who felt comfortable enough to lean on us and put us to work. And that’s really the point. I mean, it was such a small thing that we did, and it benefitted so many living beings in our local community. I think it’s important for everyone to remember (especially at this time of the year) that no matter how small your act of kindness is, the effect is far bigger than you realize. It doesn’t take much to help others in need, and no matter how much (or how little) you have, there are always people worse off than you, and doing for others definitely gives you a certain warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature outside.

My beautiful gypsy soul sisters waiting for the practice to begin.

I was amazed at how many people from the local yoga community came out to support this event on a chilly Sunday morning in November. The energy of the room was amazing, with yogis ranging from super-advanced, all the way to some who had never done any yoga ever. At this dog-friendly event, they roamed freely as we practiced.  Several teachers traded off at the microphone, each taking a part of the 90 minute practice. There were vendors of all sorts, ranging from jewelry, to clothing, tarot card readers, and even a photo booth. In sum, this day had something to offer every single person there, and every single person there made the choice to give to the greater good just by being there.

By far the best part of the day, though, was getting to spend quality time with my Gypsy Soul Sisters. Usually when we are together, we are either practicing or else doing the hard core studying and learning that is the biggest part of Yoga Teacher Training. But here, after volunteering and then practicing, we got to spend real time together. We walked around Asbury, did a little shopping at the outdoor Farmer’s Market, and had a delicious meal together. Getting all of us together outside of the confines of our usual learning environment was very special. I feel so blessed to have these women in my life because they all radiate love, light, and positivity… even the one who is a self-proclaimed curmudgeon. (Shout out, Liz!)

Does she look like a curmudgeon to you?

It’s so liberating to be authentically me without worrying that I’ll be judged because we are all like-minded and open to learning, even from each other. We are all just trying to be the best versions of ourselves as we can, and it’s so much easier when you are lifted up by the people around you. For me, this comes more often, because I have physical challenges that the other girls don’t have (not to mention that I’m way older than they are) yet they always encourage me and around them I am never made to feel like I’m inferior somehow. In fact, they praise what I can do, and make me see that there is absolutely no reason why I can’t be as good (or better) an instructor as anyone else once my training is done.

I could go on forever about this group of women, because I love each and every one of them, but before I get too side-tracked, I want to go back to the Karma Yoga. You see what happens often times is that you do something nice, and while helping someone else, you don’t realize how good it makes you feel so it’s really a win/win situation. It reminds me of a quote I love by Barbara DeAngelis that goes like this:

“Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.”

Yes, yes, and yes! Amen.

Photo booth fun… when the photographer tells you to get closer together, this is what you do.

 

Week One

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This past weekend I started what may be the biggest, most impactful journey of my life. If you had asked me four years ago, I never would have believed that I’d be here, doing Yoga Teacher Training. I mean four years ago I hated yoga and swore it wasn’t for me. Yet here I am, embarking on this adventure and although the commitment is huge, I am beyond excited.

First day of school!

Commitment to anything long term is a scary proposition for anyone with MS, because of the unpredictable nature of the disease. I can’t control it, but at the same time, I am constantly trying to not let it control me. Part of my reason for choosing this moment in time to begin this training is because even though I can’t control MS, I can control certain things in my life: diet (because you are what you eat), meditation (to calm my mind), and exercise (to stay strong).

My teacher is true to the ancient teachings of yoga, shared from teacher to student over thousands of years. There is a lineage of amazing teachers that I am now a part of, receiving the knowledge in the same way as teachers past. It’s a pretty powerful concept when you think about it. Being a part of something so much bigger than me is mind-blowing.

The essentials for class: my binder, my pencil case, and my water. Oh and reading glasses because, you know… old eyes.

On day one we introduced ourselves to each other, explaining what has brought us to be together in this training at this moment in time.  We are a strong class… small but mighty.There are three of us students, which allows us to do so much more than a larger class would, and of course more will be joining in the last 100 hours. I knew we would gel because as we each spoke about our own personal reasons for enrolling in YTT, we cried at each others’ stories. The tissues were passed around multiple times, and the connection of energy that we shared was obvious from the first moment.

So I spent the entire weekend with this beautiful Satsang (“fellowship of human beings with similar spiritual aspirations”) as we began to discuss the philosophy and history of yoga, and of course we practiced together as well. There was so much information that my head was literally spinning with all that I had learned, in this very first session with my Satsang. I left feeling utterly exhausted yet invigorated, which made me think about how many times we talked about balance: Sun and Moon, Ha and Tha, right and left. I know that every single time we meet more pieces will come together and I will make the connections necessary to lead me farther down this glorious path.

I am more excited about this than I’ve been about anything in a really long time, and the outpouring of support I have received has energized me through my personal insecurities and self-doubt.

So the moral of this week’s entry is this: be brave. Be fearless. Do what makes you happy. Do not let your perceived weaknesses hold you back from anything. If your desire is true, you will find a way to work around them, even turning those weaknesses into strengths.

Bags packed and ready to go!

Back to School

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A few weeks ago, I wrote an intentionally cryptic blog entry because I wasn’t fully prepared to share what my next venture will be, and there were still a lot of details to be ironed out. This week, I am coming clean, and sharing what my intention is and the reasoning behind my decision. I’d like to state that pledging to do anything that requires long term commitment when you have MS is ambitious because MS has a mind of its own and can rear its ugly head at any moment, causing complete and utter chaos with a single relapse. But I’m not letting that stop me because I know that this undertaking is going to improve my life in so many ways, both tangible and intangible.

Some may have guessed already when I wasn’t ready to share, but starting in just a few weeks (September 8th to be exact) through June of 2019, I will be dedicating my life and myself to 300 hours of yoga teacher training (YTT). I haven’t been more excited about anything in such a long time, even though I realize how intense it is going to be. There will be full weekends where I’m at the studio, partial weekends, readings that are required, studying Sanskrit names and chants, field trips, guest teachers, and the list goes on.

The readings necessary for my course, plus my mini binder to organize my notes. Just go ahead and stamp “dork” on my forehead now!

When I first began thinking about doing the yoga teacher training, the only thing I could think to myself was that yoga teachers don’t look like me.  I’m not long and lean, and although I have changed my body in huge ways in the last 4 years, no one would look at me and know how hard I work to be me… still a little overweight and always morbidly obese on BMI charts because of the amount of muscle mass I carry (just one of the many reasons I do not go on a scale and when my oncology team forces me, I go on backwards and we never speak about “the number”). So one day I approached my teacher after class, and asked if she ever had someone who looked like me in her yoga teacher training classes. She did not understand the question at first because she knows my medical issues and she (a true yogi) sees me as a student who is dedicated to practice and tries her hardest on the mat every single day. And she began to list all the reasons I SHOULD take on the challenge, the most memorable to me being that I can show people that ANYONE can do yoga and with the obstacles that I deal with I can inspire many others to just get on a mat.

Just get on a mat! It’s a practice!

So I took this information to heart. But my real motivation is to gain a greater understanding and appreciation for my mind, my body, and the space I occupy on this planet. Yoga is meditative for me, and when I’m on my mat, nothing else matters. I love that yoga has been a practice for thousands of years, passed down from teacher to student, and I love that every single pose serves a purpose for the body. I love that they call it a practice, because teachers are still learning and growing, and that’s how we should all be, off the mat too. And although I’m not a big “ohm” or chanting person, the magic of hearing it to book-end a practice can not be understated. Add a harmonium and this girl, who is not a big chanter, can’t help but join in.

This beautiful gypsy soul (and her harmonium) will be my teacher.

My true intention for committing to YTT is to better myself… physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I know that it will help me further my practice on the mat, but the other pieces are as vitally important to my growth as a human being as the physical part. It’s sometimes hard for me to believe how much I hated yoga when I first tried it because I had a crappy instructor who insisted I sit in a chair during class simply because I have MS. Clearly I do not need that accommodation and she rubbed me the wrong way, which usually never happens with yoga teachers because they tend to all be such incredibly beautiful souls. They emit a positivity and a spirituality that is endlessly comforting for me. Once I found the right instructor I became intrigued with all things yoga and soothed by a simple practice. And although I have come a very long way, I will always have challenges because of MS, breast cancer and the resulting surgery that inhibits full range of motion on my left arm, and a fused spine which does not allow for certain twisting poses. But I work through it, and I’m excited to see how far I can go despite it all.

Just one of my issues, but it’s not going to stop me.

I never intend to make money from this journey. I just want to be in this soothing world, and contribute to it by way of community classes or fundraisers. Whether I am a teacher or not, I will always take classes and continue my at home practice because both are such big parts of my life. As with any commitment like this, I am anxious but excited. I have my moments of self-doubt, but I also have my daily affirmations to help offset those negative feelings. The point is, how will I ever know what I am capable of if I don’t at least put myself out there and try? Failure is not in my vocabulary, so even if I have to work 20 gazillion times harder than your average yogi, then I will. It’s how I have lived my whole life. I don’t let others dictate what I can or can not do. Luckily, I have the best husband ever, who is endlessly supportive and totally gets me and my choices, and he believes that I can absolutely do whatever it is I set my mind to. I’m lucky that he is there to remind me of my strength when I am feeling weak and vulnerable.

I always feel better on my mat.

So here I go, starting out on a new adventure, and I’m sure I will be sharing plenty of it with you, my readers, if you choose to follow along with me. I know this will fill the emptiness that I have been feeling, and ever since I committed I can already recognize how my attitude has changed. What I know for sure is that whenever I have felt low and stagnant, stepping out of my comfort zone has always brought me back to a good place.

I’m just here trying to be the best version of myself possible. I will never be perfect, and I have luckily been able to leave most of my perfectionist qualities in the past, at least where it concerns not being so hard on myself. As I started to do some of my reading for YTT, I sat down with “The Motivation Manifesto” by Brendon Burchard, and although I am not that deep into the book I can tell that it will be one of those life-changing books for me. The following quote sums up everything:

“It is not merely freedom from bad things that limit us, but freedom to experience good things that awaken us.”

I couldn’t agree more. And if you’re trying to find me, especially during the next year, most likely I’ll be on my mat. Namaste 🙏🏻.

A Reason

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In light of circumstances happening in my life right now, I am bringing back a post that I originally published in August of 2014. I think what amazes me most is that years later, I still feel lost at times and certainly abandoned by people I never would have imagined would leave my side. But life has a way of surprising me, and not always in good ways, which means I just pick myself up, dust myself off, and give extra gratitude for the ones who remain by my side for the long haul. You know who you are so allow me this moment to thank you and tell you that I love and appreciate you more than you know.

When looking back at my journey with MS so far, I think that the hardest part has been how my friends and family have reacted to the ever changing me. When I was going through the grueling process of endless doctor appointments and tests that ultimately led to my diagnosis, I learned a lot about myself, but also about my friends and family. I quickly discovered who was going to stand by me for the long haul, and who was not prepared to handle the obstacles along the way. Some learned as much as they could about MS in order to be more understanding of my situation and more aware of what I was going through. Others slowly phased themselves out of my life, unnoticed until they just weren’t there anymore. Still others ran from our friendship, deserting me in my time of need.

This was not easy for me to accept. I don’t like to say goodbye to friends. A quality of mine that is both good and bad is that I love fiercely and with every fiber of my being. I would do anything for any one of my friends, and have always put the needs and wants of others ahead of my own. I give without question and offer support whenever I am needed. It’s who I am. I admittedly don’t understand when people are not like me. All I know is that I could never just abandon a friend, especially during difficult times. I will never relate to the way that some people could let go of our relationships, seemingly without a second thought.

Each time I relapsed, more friends seemed to fall out of my life leaving an indelible mark on my heart. I wondered why it was so easy to give up on years of friendship for reasons out of my control. Why couldn’t they still see me, the person underneath? Why couldn’t they see that my heart was still the same, only now it was broken into pieces, with each person taking a piece of it when leaving my side?

Through years of heartbreak, I finally realized that if someone couldn’t accept me as I am then I should not expend any energy hurting over it. The fact of the matter is that energy is limited for those of us with MS, and I decided that I was not going to waste what precious little I had on people who definitely did not spend any time or energy worrying about me. I started to scale back my efforts with those people, and suddenly all new and amazing people came into my life! Instead of being bogged down by negative energy, I surround myself with wonderfully supportive friends who spew optimism just like I do.

I am adjusting to my new normal every single day, and I am incredibly grateful for my small circle of lifetime friends who have remained steadfast at my side. But now I have newer friends who have shown me such tremendous warmth and compassion, and I don’t know what I’d do without them!

Finally, I recognize that not everyone is meant to be in my life forever. I am able to honestly declare that I am thankful to each person who has walked by my side, however briefly, on this journey of mine. I wouldn’t be the person I am now, with the understanding that I now have. As if I needed further clarification on how I came to arrive in this place, my (always full of wisdom) therapist brought everything into perspective for me by sharing a quote: “People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.” Indeed!

 

Lemtrada

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On a daily basis, I don’t think much about MS. I mean, I know it is there, but 14 (+) years in, the symptoms are generally manageable but more of a nuisance than anything else. I don’t feel sick because I have been adjusting to my new normals for so long. Usually those norms become a part of who I am: neuropathic, off-balance (read: clumsy), unable to sleep, and tremor-y, just to name a few.

But last week the vertigo hit me from out of nowhere and I spent four days crawling around my house. I needed to take care of things on the homefront, and crawling was a better option for me since I was closer to the ground which meant a shorter distance to fall.

Normally I wouldn’t even think about calling my neurologist because I always think these things are just par for the course living life with MS. And even though I know the rule of thumb is generally that your neuro should be informed of any “new” symptom that lasts more than 24 hours, I seldom listen (insert judgements and “shame on yous” here). I asked my MS sisters if they thought I should call, and they responding with a resounding “DUH”! Ok so they didn’t say duh but they did tell me what I needed to hear.

I saw my doctor emergently just one day later. I have a great relationship with him and have been seeing him almost as long as I have been diagnosed. It will be 14 years in November. So usually my bouts with vertigo have been “positional” which basically means it only happens when I am sitting, standing, or laying down in certain positions. This is NOT MS. But when the vertigo is constantly present, then for sure it involves activity on the brain stem. It also causes utter nausea, and I have been walking around with what feels like vomit at the top of my throat ever since this started. Once we established that MS was indeed the culprit, he looked at me, as serious as I have ever seen him, and said, “Rennie. We need to talk.” I knew what was coming yet held out hope that magically he would have a brilliant solution for me.

Since corticosteroids make me crazy, this is the solution for immediate treatment of the relapse.

What he told me was the following: “Gilenya (the disease modifying therapy (DMT) that I have been taking since clinical trial ) is clearly no longer working for you.” I have seen writing on the wall for a long time now, but I still felt like I had been punched in the gut as the color, I’m sure, drained from my face. I know my situation. I have failed on every single DMT out there. Except two. I am precluded from taking the one I had been waiting for as it progressed through clinical trials, due to my recent battle with breast cancer. That leaves just one more option: the one I have called “the big gun” since before it even came to market in November of 2014.

Gilenya has been good to me and I am very sad to say goodbye.

While Lemtrada (Alemtuzumab) promises great results, it is not without risks. Scary ones. There are pre-medications and post-medications, not to mention monthly blood work for at least 6 years after the first infusion. In simple terms, Lemtrada is an antibody that works by depleting certain white blood cells, partially responsible for immunity. Since MS is thought to be an autoimmune disease where the body mistakenly attacks the brain and central nervous system, the theory is that depleting the culprits allows the body to repopulate with healthy cells that have no memory of their previous programming, thus potentially reducing (or even stopping) MS activity.This means that I will be even more vulnerable to secondary infections and illnesses while my immune system works to re-build itself. The thought of wearing a protective mask and explaining to my two year-old nephew why I can’t hug and love on him the way he’s accustomed to breaks my heart. Plus, if it doesn’t work, there are no more options out there for me, and they still haven’t done research on which, if any existing treatments, would even be safe after taking Lemtrada. That, for me, is the scariest part.

This is just the first bit of literature I have been given, and I know there is plenty more to come.

But if there is one thing I have learned from MS, it’s that I can’t be scared for the future. I need to focus on the present. For me, there is no decision to be made because even though I complement my traditional treatment with alternative ones, not being on treatment is simply not an option for me.

Essential oils and a chakra bracelet help keep me balanced.

As I have done for the past 14 (+) years, I will do what I always do: Pick myself up, put on my big girl panties, and do what I need to do to in order live my best, most productive, and happiest life. After all, isn’t that what everyone aspires to? Plus, I still have plenty of fight left in me, and I am far from done!

Transformation

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It’s that time of year again… the summer is drawing to a close, with everyone taking their last trips down the shore, enjoying the joys that summer always brings, while preparing excitedly for a brand new school year.

At this time every year, I like to reflect upon how insanely different my life (and my attitude) is since MS made the decision for me to retire on disability in May, 2014, after already being on sick leave for all but the first four weeks of the school year.

Back then, I couldn’t imagine my life without the career that had defined me in so many ways, and that I was so passionate about. I considered myself beyond lucky to have a job that I loved, because so many people are not as fortunate. People often told me that I was one of the few people they knew who actually liked her job. And I did. Every damn second of it.

Now that I am a few years removed from the feeling of such a devastating loss for me, I have clarity that I didn’t have before, and gratitude for everything, including the painful, emotional, difficult situation that started me on this part of my journey. I never dreamed that I could ever be in this beautiful place that I currently find myself in, happier than ever, which I could not have imagined when I was still working.

The other day, a Staples commercial came on TV advertising their usual 10 cent sale, and I was brought back to the days when I used to have lists of which retail establishment had things on sale that I needed for my classroom so that I could stock up for the year. I used to get so excited about these things, and now it hardly even phases me. I love that because it shows how much I have grown during the last couple of years.

I’m not saying that I got here without my share of growing pains, but I am saying that I understand it’s all a part of the process. Once I opened myself up to the possibilities of creating a new life, it changed my perception of everything I knew.

What I know now is that regardless of how much I loved my students (and still do!), my own family always needs to come first. I often lost sight of that as a teacher, but I don’t regret it because now I have all of these amazing young adults who make up such a big part of my life, and I love that. I love watching them venture out on their own, doing the adult thing, and spreading their wings to soar.

I also know that taking care of myself is vitally important. When I was working, I overlooked my own wellness in favor of my job and my students. Again, I don’t regret it because of the amount of love and gratitude they gave back to me (and still do), but I know that I am of no good use to anyone if I am not staying on top of my own health and wellness. This includes all the things I have incorporated into my post-teacher life: meditation, yoga, hardcore exercise, acupuncture, reiki, and healthy eating, all of which force me to put myself above all others so that I can stay strong for the long haul.

I remember the days when the weekends meant nothing more than time to grade, write lesson plans, and create dynamic presentations for my classes, leaving no time to actually enjoy spending time being fully present with my loved ones. Once again, I have no regrets about how I lived my career because it’s what the kids deserved and I don’t know how to do it any other way.

But now… now life is better than I ever thought possible. My circle of friends has changed, but in a good way because I am surrounded by other people who take nothing for granted and never waste an opportunity to laugh and smile because we are grateful for the life we are living, regardless of whether we chose it or not. I am more in love with my husband than ever because we have been given this incredible gift of time together. Hell, we even booked a vacation in September, something we have never, EVER done before. Some small part of me still feels like a rebel for doing it, but no matter how much time passes, I guess old habits do, indeed, die hard. But lucky for me, I have worked very hard to help these old habits go by the wayside.

The transformation from Mrs. Rankin to Rennie has not been an easy one, but it is ongoing and I’m getting better at it all the time. I have been transforming my entire world: physically, mentally, and spiritually for the last few years, and my progress has been slow but steady, and that’s ok. I know that as human beings, one of our biggest challenges is having the ability to change according to our life circumstances, good or bad. I’m not going to lie and say that the process has been an easy one, or that I don’t have my moments of weakness, but it does get easier with time and with the determination to live my very best life possible. Rather than crying about the fact that I am not going back to work this week, I am happily wishing my former colleagues the very best of luck as they begin the new school year. Life is, after all, what we make of it, and I am making mine everything I want it to be. So who wants to join me in a glass half full of lemonade?

The sunrise over the Raritan River by Rutgers University, a very symbolic photo at a place that will always hold an extra special place in my heart.

Curve Ball

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Other than having MS, I’m generally a pretty healthy person. I seldom get sick because I’m so careful about how I live my life. I exercise, I eat well, and as my former students would attest to, I’m slightly germ-phobic. I don’t consider that a negative trait because I’m sure that’s how I remain healthy. But one thing I was told early in my journey with MS, is that having one illness does not preclude me from getting others. It’s something I filed in the back of my head somewhere and have only recently discovered how true it is. 

As a woman in her 40’s, I am always on top of my wellness visits with all of my doctors. After all, I am a rule girl. I do my full body check with my dermatologist every year, get an annual physical with my primary care physician, visit my ophthalmologist once a year, see my gynecologist annually, and, of course, I get my mammograms. I have had irregular readings on my mammograms in the past, which have always revealed nothing unusual upon repeat scans. 

So this year, when I was told that they would like to take some further imaging and ultrasound if necessary, I didn’t panic. Why would I? Offering full disclosure here, I have scar tissue from a breast reduction and being called for follow-up mammograms is not unusual under these circumstances. 

This year, unlike past years, I was told that I should see a breast specialist because the mammogram and ultrasound revealed irregularities. I still didn’t panic because I’m so used to visiting doctors and specialists of all sorts, thanks to MS. When the doctor examined me, she didn’t feel anything but she did see what the radiologist had seen on the films from the mammogram as well as on the CD of my ultrasound. When she told me that I needed to have a stereotactic biopsy, I still didn’t panic. She explained that most likely it was nothing, and if it was anything, it was stage zero and very treatable. 

The moment of panic came when I walked in the room for this biopsy, and saw the table that I was going to be lying down on during the procedure. (Think: operating table with a hole in it where I was to lie face down with the appropriate breast in the hole.) To be fair, it wasn’t scary at all, and the doctors and nurses did everything they could to make me feel as comfortable as possible. 

After the procedure, I was told that I would hear my results within 4-5 business days. The timing was tight because of the holiday falling smack dab in there. I debated with myself endlessly about whether it would be better to hear before New Year’s Eve, or continue to not know anything until after the holidays. Ultimately the choice was not mine, and I got the call on New Year’s Eve eve. 

With my sister on one side of me and Bruce on the other, I sat and listened to words I never expected to hear: it’s cancer. I promptly scheduled an appointment with the breast specialist for her first available appointment in order to discuss the biopsy findings further and also to come up with the appropriate treatment plan. As of the publishing of this entry, that appointment has not yet happened. 

It’s a weird feeling to hear this kind of news. Scary, of course, but also relieved that I am a proactive patient and this has been caught early with a very positive prognosis. Still, I feel like I’m somehow living someone else’s life even though I know full well that having MS doesn’t guarantee me immunity from other illnesses. 

One thing I have never done is ask “why me?”, not referring to Multiple Sclerosis, and not in this situation either. The truth is, that I believe in the universe, no matter what it decides to dole out to me. By overcoming obstacles in our path, we are made stronger. When I was diagnosed with MS I never questioned it, and my journey has brought me many gifts and my mission has become more and more clear the longer it has been a part of my life.

So here I am, starting the new year, ready to fight another fight. I’m not sure what the universe has in store for me, but I do know that I would not be given anything more than I can handle.  I also know that somewhere along this next part of my journey, my purpose will become apparent just as it always has in the past. 

The lesson for all of us here is the following: sulking, questioning, and negativity are all a waste of our precious energy. Instead, let’s use our energy in productive ways.  I, for one, propose a toast to all of us warriors out there, fighting to overcome whatever physical or emotional obstacles we are faced with. Grab a glass of lemonade (half-full, obviously), and be grateful for your blessings as well as your challenges, because both are a part of living a full and rewarding life. I’m looking ahead at 2017, cancer and all, and I can’t even imagine how much stronger I will be next year at this time. Cheers!