Shiver me timbers...

Kept meaning to blog about the events of last week, but time and motivation got the best of me. Previously, because of a lot more coughing and shortness of breath, I went to clinic. My petri dish grew out MRSA and Pseudo.  Color me unhappy since I just finished a hospitalization and clean-out in June.  So after battling a few days with my insurance company, they finally allowed me to get a  two week supply of Zyvox (oral med used to treat MRSA--super expensive) instead of a full month.  I was anxious to start feeling better because my family was coming to visit and I wanted to be up for the fun.  I got three days of Zyvox under my belt before they arrived on Monday.

I had been feeling kind of nauseous off and on for a few days before but by Monday it was mostly on.  We all trekked over to the Chinese Super Buffet (score originality points for that name) for dinner to celebrate my son's 25th birthday. (Happy Birthday Josh)   Surely with lots of buffet choices, I thought I could find something that sounded good to eat.  No luck.  Tuesday morning I had to admit that all symptoms pointed to a partial bowel block.  I guess with the heat, more mucus going through the system, and the final straw of the antibiotic, my system shut down.  It was time for drastic measures--I put in a call to Gentle Waters.

So while my family was seeing the Clydesdales and eating pretzels and drinking rootbeer on the Anheuser-Busch Tour, yours truly was lying on a cold table experiencing a high colonic!  What fun.  It was a moving experience to say the least but it did the job.  The whole process wiped me out that day and the next so that was kind of a bummer.  (Are you catching all these puns...I'm cracking myself up while typing...see, another one!)

Getting ready to go on a pirate adventure.

On Thursday I felt up to going to the Museum of Nature and Science in Denver to see the Real Pirates: The Untold Story of the Whydah, From Slave Ship to Pirate Ship exhibition.  Funded by National Geographic, it is a travelling exhibit which teaches about the true life of pirates through more than 200 artifacts from the wreck of the Whydah--the first fully authenticated pirate ship ever to be discovered in U.S. waters.  It was amazing what had survived after being under water for more than 300 years.  The sediment created a type of cement which basically encased and preserved a wide variety of ammunition, guns, dishes, shackles, trinkets, medical equipment, and lots of other things you would expect to see on a large ship. They even recovered an entire treasure chest of silver "pieces of eight."  I was a bit sad to learn that a lot of pirate lore is simply not true.  Pirates didn't make people walk the plank.  If they didn't want you around, they just threw you overboard.  Pirates also didn't bury their treasure so there is no such thing as a pirate's map showing where the loot was stashed.  It was an interesting experience.

Dad with his new bff.

Two scurvy mates:  One-eyed Rheid and Noah the Hook.

All too soon it was time for my parents, twin sister, and my nephew to say good-bye and head back home to Idaho and Utah.  I wished we lived closer but I treasure the time I do get to spend with them.

Doesn't it look yummy??!!

The colonic lady gave me some healthy suggestions and I am implementing a couple to see if there is any improvement in my over all wellness.  I purchased an exercise ball to sit on while I am at the computer.  If you bounce while sitting on it, the ball works like a mini-trampoline. Supposedly there are a lot of health benefits from "rebounding" and the ball is much cheaper than a mini-tramp.  I am even bouncing while I blog--healthy multi-tasking.  I've also started a green drink supplement that is the anti-oxidant equivalent of 15+ servings of fruits and vegetables.   Now I'm not saying that it is "oh, yummy!  Can I have some more?" tasting but it is much better than the "licking a lawn mower blade " taste of wheat grass.  Ahoy Matey, here's to better health!

Control and progression with cf...

A blogging cyster issued a challenge to write about my personal thoughts and experiences in dealing with CF control and progression.   I am taking up her challenge.  Hang on, it could be a bumpy, rambling, disjointed ride.  Here goes.


It concerns me when I hear about people trying to "control" their CF.  They mistakenly believe if they do everything just right, with 100% compliance, they will/should remain healthy and have little or no problems.  Because when the inevitable sickness or decline comes, they rationally have to blame themselves because after all since they were the ones in control, they messed up somewhere along the line.  In their need to control, they create the perfect set-up for discouragement and depression.  I have learned that control is an illusion and the harder one tries to gain it, the more elusive it becomes.  


I found this out when I developed generalized anxiety and panic.  It began in 8th grade and then became even more problematic in my early 20's.  I was afraid of just about everything.  Who needed aerobics--my heart raced with the slightest provocation.  It was a miserable time.  Part of what pulled me out was finally understanding that I didn't need to control everything.  I could trust in myself to handle whatever came my way.   I still experience some anxiety from time to time, but it doesn't completely derail me any more.  


Instead I have chosen to be the manager of my disease. I can influence and direct the course of my cf  by being compliant in taking my medications and in doing my breathing treatments.  I ask questions and value input.  I do what works--I don't have time for the rest.


I cringe when I hear about well meaning parents who in their need to control the outcome of their child's disease become hyper-vigilant to the detriment of their cfer.  I knew a family who posted a sign on their front door telling of their daughter's fragile medical health and the rules for entering their house.  Being confronted with that every day would not only be embarrassing but you would believe you really are fragile, a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Another mother freaked out because her pre-schooler in daycare was allowed to play in the dirt.  Didn't the workers know how dangerous dirt could be to a cfer?  Oh my.  If your cf child is in daycare, you have bigger worries than dirt, believe me.  Please go outside right now and make mud pies!  Let your kid be a kid.  A different mother raced out of a dentist's office when she found out another child there waiting had cf.  She called her clinic to see if her child needed some medication to counter-act the exposure.  Then she called the dentist's office and berated the staff for scheduling two cf families on the same day.  Unbelievable.  There could be a cf family in the same line of the grocery store--you don't know.  Take reasonable precautions when needed then just live life.  


Sometimes I feel like my cf experience is marginalized since I must have a "mild case" of cf.   I carry the two most common mutations of the cf gene so I am not some cf freak of nature.  I have had cf symptoms and challenges since birth.  I am so grateful my breathing problems developed slowly compared to many cystics; I don't take that blessing lightly.   However, when I took 16 pills with each meal and still spent time doubled up in a ball with stomach cramps, it didn't feel like a mild case.  When I was given milk and molasses enemas (yes, that was the protocol back then) to clear bowel blocks, it didn't feel like a mild case.   When getting perfect and honorable attendance certificates like your sisters was an impossible dream, it didn't feel like a mild case.  (In fact, I missed so many days of  elementary school some years I could have been held back had I not been a good student.)  When my boss took me aside to tell me people have complained about my coughing (had a summer job at a sandwich shop) and I was humiliated, it didn't feel like a mild case.  When my OB told me at the conclusion of my pregnancy that he didn't know if me or my child would be alive at the end, it didn't feel like a mild case.   When I wondered if I would live to see my son go to school, be a boy scout, graduate, or grow to adulthood, it didn't feel like a mild case.  When you honestly can't remember the last time you felt good, it doesn't feel like a mild case.  And now that I have coughing fits that take my oxygen sats into the 70's while being on oxygen and wondering if I'll ever catch my breath again, it absolutely doesn't feel like a mild case to me.  Whenever and however the cf challenges come, they are remarkably similar with the only difference being the timing. 


One thing about being blessed in beating the odds is the mistaken idea that you will always continue to beat them.  After all, you must be doing something right cuz it has worked out so far.  It is a humbling and scary experience to finally realize that despite your best efforts, this crummy disease is winning.  Progression is inevitable.  Taunting, it seems to say, "thought you were special, huh--think again cyster!"  I'm still coming to grips with that and am more successful some days than others.  I believe our experiences are tailored so we can create maximum growth within ourselves.  Growing hurts.  But I will continue to fight.


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1. Write a blog explaining your personal thoughts and experiences in dealing with CF control and progression. This could include your views on whether CF is in fact a "controllable" disease, your personal definition of compliance, your thoughts on whether (or how) someone with CF should be judged in terms of "good enough" self-care (what makes you feel judged? do you think those fears are justified? is judgment ever useful in this context?), your own struggles with control vs. unpredictability, and how you keep motivated in the face of so many questions. Or, you know, whatever you want to write about really. It's your blog.

2. Comment below with a link to your blog so that all of us can read your response. YOU DO NOT NEED TO LINK TO MY BLOG IN YOUR ANSWER. If you'd like to do so, please feel free, but this is about starting a discussion, not publicity.

3. Encourage your own readers to get in on the conversation by posting the same instructions on your blog. Remember, the more responses, the better the conversation. Let's see if we can get this one going as much as with past challenges.

4. If you don't have a personal blog (or just don't feel like going through steps 1-3), feel free to still make yourself heard by simply leaving a comment with your thoughts below.

5. Non-CFers are 100% welcome to participate, either by pulling from their own experiences or simply by offering their perspective as people, friends, and loved ones.