Coming Back From Defeat
For those of you know me, I've been through some health issues this year. For those who don't know me, I've been through some health issues this year.
It started back around the New Year when the flu was really bad and I worked with kids from all around the country all winter in Colorado teaching ski lessons. I got sick. I couldn't work because I was sick, I didn't make money, and then I got anxiety about not being able to pay bills because I was sick and not being able to work. That stress lead to my immune system being depleted and as soon as I started feeling better and working again, I got sick...again. And that is when the viscous cycle started. I applied for a job here in Flagstaff to get me home so I could take care of myself and heal. I was so sure I was going to get the job because of my major and my internship. I did not get the job. That hurt. I was so set about going home and healing, so I decided to go home anyway. That was hard. I had made a family in Colorado, I was getting use to living in a rural environment, and I was dating someone who was amazing. Leaving was not an easy choice for me, but it was what I needed to do at the time for my health.
When I came home I fell into deep depression. I stopped taking my medication and that made things so much worse. I had found myself in this deep dark hole that I found no motivation to get out of. My mom dragged me by the ear back to my medication and I started to recover a bit. The mental damage was being repaired, but the physical damage was already done.
During my first few days of being out of bed and moving again after spending weeks in bed plagued by depression, my left side of my back by my kidneys started to hurt...bad. I've had kidney stones before, and it felt very similar. The pain was persistent though. It lasted longer than the two hours of intense pain that I was use to. I went to the ER and got some pain killers and had every test we could think of. Nothing was found. I was put on antibiotics in case it was an infection reeking havoc on my body. I was told to go to my doctor the following week for a checkup. Four days later, the pain came back even worse than before. I returned to the ER and had more, invasive tests. Still, nothing was found.
I went to a urologist and he suggested an exploratory surgery with a stint placement inside my kidney. I agreed. The next week I had the procedure. I came out feeling fine and the report was that my doctor didn't find anything wrong with me. I was good to go and was able to take out the stint myself the next day (it had a thin string attached to it, much like pulling out a tampon). I woke up the next morning in extreme pain, the worst I had ever felt even with multiple kidney stone episodes under my belt. My dad called EMS and I was given intravenous pain killers. Two doses later, I was able to sit up and slowly walk down to the ambulance. At the ER, I went through my history and it was determined that the stint was the cause of the pain. I sat there for a few hours in pain because I had maxed out on my allotted pain meds while trying to get in touch with my doctor. I was then discharged to go see my urologist who was waiting for me. He took the stint out (which hurt, like, a lot; I'm so happy I didn't have to do it myself) and explained that some people do not do well with stints. I had no idea I was one of those people because I had never had one before. Well, now I know.
I spent the next day recovering and sleeping. The day after that, I went to a few job interviews. I was exhausted after. The day after that, I attempted to attend my Wilderness First Responder Recertication class. My instructor sent me home and put me into the June class. I was so grateful, I don't think I could of finished that class. I rested a few more days, accepted a job offer and started becoming more active again. I just started to walk. A lot. I felt good and healthy.
Then I pulled a muscle in my leg that started to impede in my walking miles a day. I started my physical therapy. My ass got handed to me. I was told my muscles were so tight, that I was at high risk for tearing something. I started a stretching routine and kept attending PT and we slowly started weight training, My pain in my leg went away as I got stronger. On my last two weeks of PT, my doctor gave me a talk. "You're too young to be this weak. I'm in my 50's and I'm stronger than you. This should not be happening. You deserve to be strong, healthy, and feeling good. You deserve that." I signed up for the YMCA that day. Then I signed up our town's running team and their run-walk program that they do twice a year. I had done it before, but this time felt different. I was stronger than I was the previous programs I had done. I felt good, free.
In the past couple months I had a paradigm shift. My goal this year was getting back to a healthy weight that I had drifted away from during my months of depression. I was trying to count calories, but that was not sustainable. So I started playing around in the kitchen. I started cooking some simple meals that tasted great and that saved me a lot of money. When I started the running program, my tastes changed. I wanted more veggies and less sugar. I liked the simple creations I came up with from just simple things from the store and what was in the kitchen.
A week or two ago, that all too familiar pain came back that lead me into the hospital four times. I was laying in bed on my left side being lazy when I started to feel it. I shot out of bed and got some ibuprofen, but again, the damage was done. This time though, I was determined not to go to the hospital. I stretched and did yoga, went to the gym, went for a run, and took hot baths filled with Epsom salts. Within four days, the pain was gone.
So, here I am now. pushing myself to move and stretch and eat healthy. All of this was my body's warning to me that I had to move and take care of myself, and if I stop, it will remind me again, in a brutal fashion.
It started back around the New Year when the flu was really bad and I worked with kids from all around the country all winter in Colorado teaching ski lessons. I got sick. I couldn't work because I was sick, I didn't make money, and then I got anxiety about not being able to pay bills because I was sick and not being able to work. That stress lead to my immune system being depleted and as soon as I started feeling better and working again, I got sick...again. And that is when the viscous cycle started. I applied for a job here in Flagstaff to get me home so I could take care of myself and heal. I was so sure I was going to get the job because of my major and my internship. I did not get the job. That hurt. I was so set about going home and healing, so I decided to go home anyway. That was hard. I had made a family in Colorado, I was getting use to living in a rural environment, and I was dating someone who was amazing. Leaving was not an easy choice for me, but it was what I needed to do at the time for my health.
When I came home I fell into deep depression. I stopped taking my medication and that made things so much worse. I had found myself in this deep dark hole that I found no motivation to get out of. My mom dragged me by the ear back to my medication and I started to recover a bit. The mental damage was being repaired, but the physical damage was already done.
During my first few days of being out of bed and moving again after spending weeks in bed plagued by depression, my left side of my back by my kidneys started to hurt...bad. I've had kidney stones before, and it felt very similar. The pain was persistent though. It lasted longer than the two hours of intense pain that I was use to. I went to the ER and got some pain killers and had every test we could think of. Nothing was found. I was put on antibiotics in case it was an infection reeking havoc on my body. I was told to go to my doctor the following week for a checkup. Four days later, the pain came back even worse than before. I returned to the ER and had more, invasive tests. Still, nothing was found.
I went to a urologist and he suggested an exploratory surgery with a stint placement inside my kidney. I agreed. The next week I had the procedure. I came out feeling fine and the report was that my doctor didn't find anything wrong with me. I was good to go and was able to take out the stint myself the next day (it had a thin string attached to it, much like pulling out a tampon). I woke up the next morning in extreme pain, the worst I had ever felt even with multiple kidney stone episodes under my belt. My dad called EMS and I was given intravenous pain killers. Two doses later, I was able to sit up and slowly walk down to the ambulance. At the ER, I went through my history and it was determined that the stint was the cause of the pain. I sat there for a few hours in pain because I had maxed out on my allotted pain meds while trying to get in touch with my doctor. I was then discharged to go see my urologist who was waiting for me. He took the stint out (which hurt, like, a lot; I'm so happy I didn't have to do it myself) and explained that some people do not do well with stints. I had no idea I was one of those people because I had never had one before. Well, now I know.
I spent the next day recovering and sleeping. The day after that, I went to a few job interviews. I was exhausted after. The day after that, I attempted to attend my Wilderness First Responder Recertication class. My instructor sent me home and put me into the June class. I was so grateful, I don't think I could of finished that class. I rested a few more days, accepted a job offer and started becoming more active again. I just started to walk. A lot. I felt good and healthy.
Then I pulled a muscle in my leg that started to impede in my walking miles a day. I started my physical therapy. My ass got handed to me. I was told my muscles were so tight, that I was at high risk for tearing something. I started a stretching routine and kept attending PT and we slowly started weight training, My pain in my leg went away as I got stronger. On my last two weeks of PT, my doctor gave me a talk. "You're too young to be this weak. I'm in my 50's and I'm stronger than you. This should not be happening. You deserve to be strong, healthy, and feeling good. You deserve that." I signed up for the YMCA that day. Then I signed up our town's running team and their run-walk program that they do twice a year. I had done it before, but this time felt different. I was stronger than I was the previous programs I had done. I felt good, free.
In the past couple months I had a paradigm shift. My goal this year was getting back to a healthy weight that I had drifted away from during my months of depression. I was trying to count calories, but that was not sustainable. So I started playing around in the kitchen. I started cooking some simple meals that tasted great and that saved me a lot of money. When I started the running program, my tastes changed. I wanted more veggies and less sugar. I liked the simple creations I came up with from just simple things from the store and what was in the kitchen.
A week or two ago, that all too familiar pain came back that lead me into the hospital four times. I was laying in bed on my left side being lazy when I started to feel it. I shot out of bed and got some ibuprofen, but again, the damage was done. This time though, I was determined not to go to the hospital. I stretched and did yoga, went to the gym, went for a run, and took hot baths filled with Epsom salts. Within four days, the pain was gone.
So, here I am now. pushing myself to move and stretch and eat healthy. All of this was my body's warning to me that I had to move and take care of myself, and if I stop, it will remind me again, in a brutal fashion.
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