When Life Gives You Limes

People often use the expression, “when life gives you lemons” when things aren’t going quite right, you’re likely familiar with the phrase? Well, humor me as I explain why I’d like to adapt the statement to, “when life gives you limes.”

In my opinion, lemons are tasty and you can do so much with them, many options being super simple! For example, of course you can make lemonade, then there is lemon cake, lemon bread, lemon cookies, pie, and more! I mean lemons are great for tea, detoxing, or simply put in your water. Lemons are just so handy, but limes? Limes are a little bit more complicated, they’re slightly more sour and although you can use them in drinks and recipes, it’s not quite as common, kind of like chronic illnesses – complex and uncommon.

That said, I have quite a few limes in my life. I’ve been diagnosed with over 10 chronic illnesses, a handful of which are seriously debilitating and progressive. I’ve had to take medical leave from the school of my dreams, now having watched my classmates graduate without me, and put my future goals on hold. Because of my symptoms– mostly nausea, pain, and fatigue– most days I am not even able to leave home and I spend majority of my time in my bed resting and sleeping.

I have new limes thrown at me every time a doctor gives me a new diagnosis, every time a treatment doesn’t work, and every time I wake up feeling worse than I did the day before. However, I’ve learned to take these limes and use them to help me find all of the gifts in life, all of the things that I am so thankful for. When you’re given challenges, sour moments, it really teaches you to be so much more thankful for every little moment or object that makes you feel joy.

Some of the sweet things in my life that regularly help me get through the sour moments include my dogs, Baxter & Dexter, my family, good music, and my online support network. There are also little gifts day to day like a 75 degree day, a special visitor or getting something in the mail, being able to take a walk, an Epsom salt bath, taking a drive and seeing pretty scenery, etc. Lots of small things bring me joy, and I am so appreciative of every happy moment I am given.

I’ve had a lot of curveball limes recently, broken tubes, line infections, flare ups of pain and nausea, exhaustion, and doctor troubles to name a few, but I’ve learned to put up walls that keep all of this from affecting me too much, only allowing through the smallest amounts of stress or worry possible – the last thing I need on top of my illness happenings? Extra limes.

Learning to filter out some of the extra stressors, even the smallest things you may hardly notice can make a big difference in the long run. Hold on to every happy moment, every simple pleasure, and let go of negative energy; hold no grudges, and never go to bed or leave your loved ones angry. Forgive, love, laugh, and remember not to waste precious time on trivial issues. When life gives you limes, take a moment to find your own sweet moments and happy thoughts, play your favorite song or cuddle with your dog, text your best friend or your mom, take time to express yourself, share your love and gratitude, spread the joy in random acts of kindness, random words of affection. Life is too short to be sour.

 

My Opiate Crisis

The opiate crisis. Two words, so much baggage.

I think it’s reasonable to say that most individuals over the age of 15 living in the US today have at least heard something about the opiate crisis. Opiates are bad. Narcotics are addictive. They ruin lives and have a high risk for overdose. Opiates are a gateway drug and lead to use of street drugs & illegal self-medicating. (5th-10th grade health class, yah?) That’s what we learn about the opiate crisis, bad bad bad.

Opiates/narcotics can be dangerous…if used incorrectly or illegally. But for people like me, who are living with multiple chronic pain conditions, this opiate crisis is affecting our treatment plans and more importantly, our quality of life & ability to function.

That said, and all dramatics & sarcasm aside, for those of us living with chronic illnesses, the opiate crisis is not the same crisis that you hear about in the news or in a doctor’s office…

My opioid crisis involves trying to make the very limited quantity of pain medication last the whole month, every month….

and then I have to trek back to the doctor to try to advocate for myself and my needs when a change in dosage or medication is needed– I’m really shy/bad at confrontation and in person advocacy so this is a big stress for me.

My opioid crisis is struggling to make each dose last long enough; dealing with a connective tissue condition and genetics that make my body metabolize pain medications too quickly has made treating my pain very hard, high doses of pain meds are hard to get with all of the new FDA laws that are in place due to recreational users and ODs, which of course have nothing to do with my case, but laws are laws and now it’s been made my crisis, your crisis, and that of every addict or legal pain patient who uses these meds.

My opioid crisis involves choosing between being able to function during the day or being able to sleep at night. I’m an artist and a writer, but I can’t paint or write because of the pain in my hands, wrists, and arms. I can’t stand too long, sit still, or lay down without having severe pain in my back and hips. When does the pain end? What is more important, sleep or being productive and (semi)functional during the day?

My crisis means facing the consequences of others’ actions; I don’t abuse drugs nor do I purchase them illegally or without a prescription. I use pain meds because I am unable to really live without having a way to try to manage the pain, no different than how I work to manage my nausea or my migraines, any of my symptoms that can affect my quality of life.

My opioid crisis may not be “normal,” but it’s real. I know so many other girls going through these trials, we are lucky to have each other, but the stress and the guilt and the disappointment from disappointing doctors and failed treatments or lack of access to medications can be overwhelming. There are no words to explain how deeply the system can affect us– and not just because of opiates.

I would love to find something aside from narcotics that would relieve my pain effectively. I want to paint for hours with no shooting pains in my arms, hands, or back, and I want to type without my wrists feeling like they’re black and blue with bruises every time they hit the laptop/keyboard. I want to sleep all night and run a full bag of tube feeds without waking up in too much pain to sit up.

I don’t want to be on narcotics. I have so many goals, and none of them include narcotics, but they also don’t include severe, widespread joint and nerve pain. I also understand why there are strict rules on medications like narcotics. I wouldn’t want them to be easily available to everyone. But that doesn’t mean that those who are truly, legitimately suffering– whether it be acute (post op, injury, car wreck) or chronic (fibromyalgia, arthritis, ehlers danlos syndrome, CRPS, etc.)– should have to continue to suffer when there are actually medications that could make a difference!

Not all of my conditions have treatments. Not all of my symptoms can be managed. So if I find something that helps, and I have doctors saying it makes sense, why does it have to be so damn hard to get a hold of these medications? This system is just mind boggling sometimes.

I want to be a person, not a patient, not a statistic in a research study, just Rachel.

That’s a glimpse at my opiate crisis.