One year ago today I was in Calgary for a doctor’s appointment. For those of you not from around here, Vancouver to Calgary is about a ten to eleven hour drive. In the spoonie world, driving that far to see a doctor is not that unheard of, but for most people it probably sounds a little crazy. I didn’t go to just see any old doctor, though. I went to see Western Canada’s only motility specialist, which is a gastroenterologist who specializes in functional motility disorders of the digestive tract, such as gastroparesis.
During the ten months leading up to that appointment I had been getting sicker and sicker. Based on my health status at the time, my doctors here weren’t sure what else to do for me and my local GI agreed that if we were willing to make the trip, it was definitely worth a shot! Since the Calgary doctor was involved in research relating to digestive motility the hope was that he might have experience with some newer medications and treatments that were either being used off-label or just weren’t part of common practice yet.
Now, despite the fact that I knew I shouldn’t put all my eggs in one basket, I couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter that I had set my expectations too high countless times in the past only to be disappointed, I was just so desperate to feel better. I had been too sick for too long and I was ready to turn things around.
I had hope. That’s an understatement. I was bursting with hope! My fingers and toes were crossed with hope!
Splat! (That’s the sound of my basket being dropped and all my eggs cracking and making a huge mess.)
I wish I could say that my appointment in Calgary was the tipping point on my road to recovery, but it wasn’t. I do think it was a tipping point, but in the wrong direction. It wasn’t a waste of time – some really good ideas came out of that appointment (none that ended up getting me anywhere, but you have to try everything!). The trip itself, however, drained my already weary body of energy. When I came home I continued to just get worse. In the year since then I’ve been to more appointments than I can count. I’ve spent more time with health care professionals than I have with friends. I’ve had several lengthy hospitalizations, tried numerous medications with no success, and I have spent most of my time feeling really sick. Oh, and let’s not forget this whole feeding tube thing.
That’s not to say the last year has been all bad, because it hasn’t. I don’t feel the need to elaborate on the good things, the blessings in my life, because most of my posts are about those very topics. And the reason most of my posts are positive is because for the most part, that is what I choose to focus on. And that’s what I choose to share because I believe that putting positive energy out into the world will be reflected back as positive energy in my life. I believe in the ripple effect. If I can manage to bring some brightness to someone else’s day, that light will spread and one day make its way back to me and to the people I love. Maybe this sounds like a bunch of crazy talk to you, but so far I have only found this to be true.
So no, the last year has not been all bad, but from a health perspective, it’s been a complete nightmare! The hardest part, the most frustrating part, is knowing that I’m actually sicker now than I was a year ago. I have been cha cha-ing my heart out the last few weeks but things are still headed in the wrong direction. I will be perfectly honest and say that I am tired. I am discouraged. I am overwhelmed.
But I’m not defeated and I’m not disheartened.
I have had more eggs crack and splatter than I can count, but one year later I still have hope. I’m still hopeful that one day (soon) I’m going to feel better. I’m still hopeful that life will not always be this hard. I’m still hopeful that things are going to work out okay.
I am hopeful and for that I am thankful.
It helps that I have faithful hens who continue laying eggs so that even though I keep dropping them I’m never empty handed.
I don’t know how I would get by if I ever lost hope so I don’t want anyone else to feel that way, either. There is always hope. I have plenty of baskets and eggs to go around if your hope is ever running low.
You know where to find me.