September 9, 2021 - One decade... be present.

It’s been a decade since I got sick. I didn’t know then, that night, that my life was dramatically changed. I’ve done therapies, and they’ve...

October 26, 2019 - Acceptance, and perspective



During the last eight years, I've had multiple consultations with medical professionals, and have been tested, all in a quest for answers, for diagnoses. Fortunately, I've gotten lots of info. Treatment for these diagnoses has been both meds, and various therapies. Take a look at "My story in a nutshell".

One of my diagnoses is convergence insufficiency - a vision disorder, diagnosed by my developmental optometrist, Dr. Margolis. I just recently saw him for a progress report, and he could see from how I handled his examination of me, that though I'm by no means back at square one, there has been regression from my recent setback. This didn't surprise me.

He's determined to try to still find ways to help me. He wants to try using yoke prism lenses to see if that helps my peripheral vision. I gave back the green syntonic filter lens glasses. The benefit of the green unfortunately fights against visual distortion that comes with wearing the glasses, so I don't have a net gain. He agreed this was unacceptable, but isn't giving up yet. I'll see when I have my next vision therapy session in November, what I do with Ann.
  
I next see Dr. Margolis in January, so I'll see how the next two months in vision therapy unfold.  I want to remain open  - in general, not just in VT - to possibility, to an opportunity that may present itself, that I have the capacity to explore.

But there's this sense in me, this inner voice that is saying "yes, see how these two months go... but don't be waiting on these two months like something amazing is going to happen... it's time for acceptance…". I know there comes a time when I need to say to my medical team "Enough. It's time for maintenance, and for me to see what my life looks like."  A time for me to accept, and make the best of the circumstances I have.

So I'm asking myself what I know, and what I have, right now -
Some realities -
I have disabilities - that's simply a fact, and not one that's going to change.

I need to pace myself - depending on how I'm doing, the pacing may vary – right now I have to be more careful than when I am not recovering from a setback. But I always, always have to pace myself.

I have to limit my screen time – this is difficult, and can be really frustrating in this high-tech era, but is very necessary.

Some positives -
Take pleasure in my pets,

be grateful for being able to play simply listening to myself on my flute, and on our piano keyboard.

Enjoy having houseplants - here's a picture of our aloe plant, much happier in its' new pot :-)


Be grateful I have so much audio material I can listen to.

Enjoy, and be grateful for every phone call with friends or family. And any time I can spend in person with friends or family.

Be grateful that I am physically able enough to do enough household management that Ron and I can stay in our house.

Certainly grateful that we can manage our finances sufficiently to be able to stay in our house.

We got a postcard from my daughter who is in Scotland. If it had been any longer, or her handwriting not as neat, I could not have read it myself. I had to read it more than once, but I was able to.

When I was done, I thought to myself how much perspective matters. I can be angry and frustrated at how little I can read, or I can be grateful in the moment, that I was able to read her postcard. Yes, I needed to take a break after reading it, but I was able to read it myself.



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October 19, 2019 Tiny is powerful... it all matters




To state the obvious, experiencing vertigo doesn't make you feel safe.  Because of my recent setback, I've thought about the night I got sick. I think whenever things don't go well, I think about that. I think the opposite of feeling safe is feeling in control.

I've also thought about the losses I've had. Having a chronic illness means, for many, some loss. I'm no exception to that. Part of my loss has been a loss of connection, community. Not just the musical activities in which I participated, but also being more active with our congregation.

So how do I solve these problems? I believe the control answer comes from showing up for my therapies, and doing my brain retraining home therapy. Small bits really do matter. Baby steps. And when I say baby steps, I really mean baby steps - I found a video that does a pretty good job explaining the power of the tiny.


So what do I do that I care about? Continuing to shine a light on invisible disorders. I can do this through my writing. I can also do this by calling new members monthly for the vestibular disorders Association – Veda.

Many times I only leave a message, but I always follow up with an email. Sometimes I receive a reply, and occasionally I speak to someone. They are always very appreciative.

I don't know what else I will find, if anything. I do know that the two things I just described – my writing, and what I do for Veda – both matter.

Community can come from a number of places. I have family, and I want to stay connected - that means attending family gatherings whenever possible, and phone calls. I also need to build on my phone calls to friends. Whenever I do connect with someone, it's a positive for both of us.

I may not always get it exactly right, when I do, when I try things. I'm not going to be able to control everything all the time, which may result in a setback. But I need to keep going. Remember that the keeping going is where I really build my strength. The coming back after a setback.


Giving myself reminders – concrete reminders of what has worked, what I've accomplished - is important. So, even while dealing with this setback - for which recovery is not an exactly straight line - 

here's a list of what I've done -

Went to a BIG furniture store with Ron and Leena to order new dining room chairs.

Did some texting with my daughters.

Went to a morning Yom Kippur service.

Walked the dog by myself.

With a shorter hair cut, I'm going for haircuts every 4 weeks.

Writing and editing this piece, in small bits.

Showed up for vision therapy. Ann said she didn't think I'd regressed from my setback, which was encouraging.

Trying out a new step in syntonics - using a special green filter at home. Here's a picture.


Started up vision therapy brain retraining at home again. A little bit, to get back on track.

Picked out the first part of the song do re mi from the sound of music, on our piano keyboard.

Taking breaks – even a minute or two makes a difference, just like the baby steps of doing makes a difference. My breaks are a time to really focus on doing good breathing.

Do something each day that matters, that I care about, that makes me feel connected. It doesn't have to be big. Tiny can be powerful.



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October 13, 2019 An informed patient, & time...



This picture makes me think of a slow, gradual journey... 

My gastroenterologist diagnosed my irritable bowel syndrome - IBS - about two and a half years ago. I remember he explained about how the intestinal nervous system gets confused, and involved when there's migraine issues. IBS is, apparently, a common diagnosis when migraine conditions are present. This info was very helpful. I can have only mild migraine symptoms, and also have distinct IBS symptoms (sometimes in the moment, sometimes delayed).

My doctor prescribed IBGard. Unfortunately, he didn't give me any directions on how to take it. I wish I had asked more questions at the time. I have now, finally, educated myself by looking at the IBgard site, which thought somewhat repetitive, is also pretty informative. I listened, and now understand much more about IBS, how IBGard works, and how to use it.

It's going to take time for me to recover - at least a few weeks. Hopefully not more than that. If I'm not seeing definite improvement in a month, I'll contact my doctor, but  I know it's too soon now. One of the main ingredients in healing, is time. It's so hard to be patient. I hate that setbacks feel like they hit so suddenly, but recovery is always a gradual process. But that's how it is.


One day at a time.
One day at a time... keep breathing... take care of myself.... one day at a time.

Note: please consult your doctor for a diagnosis, and for treatment. What I'm sharing here is not meant to take the place of medical advice.

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