What happens when someone with chronic pain, on medication, gets the stomach flu? It's a tricky situation because your pain doesn't take a break. I always take my medication at appointed times and hope for the best. I lose some of it and it usually results in more pain but there really doesn't seem to be any alternative.
This was the case with me two weeks ago. I went to Toronto for a lovely weekend with my daughter Jerri. She had given me a ticket to the ballet as a Christmas gift and we added some other events to make it a full weekend of fun together. We really had a wonderful time.
As I was driving home to North Bay, Jerri started vomiting. And by the time I got home four hours later I wasn't feeling the best and it started for me soon afterward. Needless to say it hit pretty hard and put me on the couch for a solid three days. Meanwhile for Jerri, 24 hours later and she was back at work. It really seemed to linger with me.
Then I started to have severe stomach pains. Soon after a familiar pain started in my stomach and it didn't leave. I've had a stomach ulcer from time to time and I know the feeling. I remembered my doctor saying he would recommend I double my stomach medication if I felt I needed to, so I did that. It didn't seem to work. I took probiotics. It didn't work. I changed what and when I was eating and that didn't work. I called my doctor. And that didn't work. He's on holidays until April 11th.
Finally, I felt spent. I didn't know what else to do. I remembered clearly what my dad always did when he had an ulcer. He took baking soda and mixed it will water and drank it. I did that. It worked. Some relief anyway. So I thought I would do this until I can see my doctor. And I went to the health food store to see what the latest and greatest remedy is for stomach ulcers and there were two. One is apple cider vinegar and the other was aloe Vera juice. He thought I needed the aloe, so I bought that and I taking that too.
I'm better but feel it could flare anytime. And this my friends is one of the side effects of medication. Not good, but pain isn't either so I'll deal with this and move again.

Life is full of ups and downs and I have certainty experienced both in the last little while. We were fortunate enough to have our Meg home for a full week over her reading week. It was an absolute pleasure to have her here for leisure for a change. She and I had a lot of time to just be. She and her Dad skied, walked in the woods, and snowshoed through the week. I was able to join them on the lake one day for a short snow shoe and a walk. We also went ice fishing.
Times like this are always bittersweet for me. I love having my girls at home but their activity level with their Dad reminds me of how much I have had to give up.
That's just a fact, and one I don't dwell on; but it is something many of us with chronic pain deal with, it's a loss like any other. It means we have to be more creative to find things to do that are both interesting and not to physically challenging.
We filled our time in different ways that were more conducive to me, and we had a great week.
From the little bit of activity I did do, there was residual pain and discomfort but I had time to recover after she left.
What was exciting for all of us was an overnight trip I had planned. Knowing Meghan a typical "girls" night does not excite her the same as an outdoor activity, so I searched for the perfect thing. It had to be rustic enough for her but comfortable and doable for me. It was a tough combo but I found just the thing. We rented a Mongolian yurt and it was only a forty minute drive from here.
It took a lot of organization with packing and making food but with Meg doing most of the heavy lifting it was a breeze. We headed out on one of the mildest days of the winter. We had to carry food, bedding, clothing and games and it was about a fifteen minute walk through the bush to get to the yurt. Meg was a trooper, I just had to get myself there and she carried the backpack and dragged the sleigh behind her.
I have to say it was one of the most unique experiences we have had. It was like camping in the winter. Once we arrived our only job was to keep the fire stoked and enjoy ourselves. It was too mild for the outdoor activities and we didn't make use of the sauna. Meg climbed trees as she always does while camping and we played a rousing game of Catan, cooked on the wood stove and just hung out. Time stands still when you're in the middle of the forest and there's nobody else around. It was a wonderful experience and one each of us will likely remember for a long time.
It was a stretch for me as it took me out of my comfort zone,walking through the bush, and generally roughing it for two days but it was so worth it.

My experience of running into an acquaintance at a party, who exclaimed how great I looked, not only made me feel better, but helped someone else who is experiencing difficulty right now. After our short but impactful conversation, a gentle woman touched my arm and asked if I had been sick. I explained in basic terms that yes, I had been in rather rough shape when he had last seen me as it was after a third neurosurgery in less than a year.
She asked if I would tell her all about it. I hesitated for a moment wondering if the party was the right place for it, but I could see she needed to know. She then told me her husband had been in the hospital since the middle of November, almost a hundred days. She said seeing me look so healthy and active gave her hope. I stopped drying dishes and suggested we go somewhere more private. She and I talked for some time and I could feel her pain; I could also understand her need to hear about mine. I too, had taken courage from others recovery when I was starting to lose the energy, and resilience to carry on. So I told her about my story and about my wonderful husband who was there every step of the way. I complimented her on her dedication and love for her husband and all they have been though. Nobody knows, or can imagine unless they too have been there.
She's a remarkable woman and I have no doubt that she, and her husband will come out of this okay. It takes such faith to get through those dark days that seem to drag on with one more complication after another. I could truly empathize with the unfortunate journey they are now a part of, one no one wants or asks for. It creeps into your life like an unwelcome guest and to your horror settles in for that long haul.
I was happy to have been at that party last night for her to see the interaction and feel hope from it. I know it has happened to all of us from time to time, just when you think you haven't another ounce left to give, someone or something fills you up again. And it was good for me to be reminded once again how far I have come and how fortunate I am for the people who love me.

Last night I attended a party for a friend. There were guests from all areas of the person's life and it was a lovely event. While I was standing talking to women I had just met, and one I knew slightly I caught a glance of someone across the kitchen. He caught my eye by the way he was looking at me. It was a cross between bewilderment and amazement he told me afterward. He was holding a bottle of wine in each hand and I honestly thought he might drop them.
He stuttered, "You look great."
I thanked him, and smiled, but it didn't end there. He kept looking at me and the women I had been talking with were now looking at me.
He finally exclaimed, "You're standing, you're walking, you look great."
Then it hit me, he hadn't seen me since shortly after my final surgery. I was at the Farmers market with my girls and we ran into him and his wife. When I think back to that time I was in pretty rough shape. Fragile, pale and very slow movement, and perhaps he thought that's how I would remain. I had a walker at that time and a daughter on each side of me while I walked. Getting out and into a crowd was a big deal.
We finished our conversation but he never really got that look of amazement off his face. He finally smiled, patted my back and said, good for you.
Although slightly embarrassed by the attention, it felt good. It was a fantastic reminder for me who was having a bit of a bad week with a fall and consequently pain to go with it. I felt the glow of that reminder all evening. Sometimes we have to remember how for we have come to appreciate where we are. I do, I really, really do.

Think about the thing you dislike about yourself the most; imagine telling people about it, time and time again. The telling of it doesn't feel comfortable, sometimes it is down right embarrassing or shameful. Anyone would tell you not to be ashamed, but that doesn't matter. Shame is not a rational thing, when talking about ourselves and perceived weaknesses.
That's how it can feel to a person with an invisible illness or injury. We look as though we should be able to carry our own groceries, climb the stairs vs the elevator, or stand and give an elderly person the seat. And don't even get me started with the disabled parking.
When I'm travelling, the minute the plane lands and the seatbelt sign goes off, I stand. I have learned I have to stand and get my legs balanced before I call on them to walk after sitting for awhile. When I do this, everyone around me looks at me and stands and jostles for position. I now say to these strangers, I just have to stand, you can go ahead when the time comes.
As you can see, many of these cases I have not even met the people I am explaining this to or have just met them through friends or relatives.
Once again I ask you to think about what you perceive as your weakness; now imagine having that as a topic of conversation when you've just met somebody.
Even the most confident person gets worn down after dealing with these sceneries time and time again.
I feel like I spend a lot of time explaining myself and my actions; why I choose not to do things, or why I do some things differently than others.
My body is different than anyone else's, I've known that my whole life. What I didn't realize is that it's capabilities would be compared to those of my own age simply because it looks okay on the outside.
What I realize is people of all ages, and races deal with this dilemma all the time.
There's a sigma when you can't do what is expected of you, period.
I'm not sure what the answer is, because I have really worked on self acceptance and gratitude for the body I have. My perseverance has allowed me to keep moving. When I'm faced with a new situation in which I have to explain why I can't do something someone my age should be doing, I feel it in the pit of my stomach.
Smiling and having a positive attitude goes a long way, but feeling judged does not make anyone feel anything, but shame. So the next time you hear someone with different abilities explain themselves, just remember how difficult that conversation is for them. A little compassion goes a long way.

What happens when you have worked so hard to get to where you are after an injury; surgery, or chronic illness, and you realize it isn't enough? Or worse still, someone tells you it isn't enough.
Those of us who have dealt with this for many years avoid these situations at all cost, but for those new to it, you may still be going on trial and error. When you think you have built your strength up to an event or activity, and it works, it feels fantastic.
If you are not up to the activity, or worse still, you go ahead and do it, and it leaves you feeling terrible afterward, the disappointment can be devastating. And in rare occasions, I realize as I'm doing something that it may be too much, but I choose to continue and pay for it later. It's worth it to me at the time. These are usually life events like weddings, funerals or special events. Or it can be a gathering that is so much fun you can't force yourself to leave.
For those of you reading this with a chronic condition you know all too well what I mean. However if you do not, or it's a loved one with the condition let me explain further.
When I got out of rehab after my surgery I was five weeks post op. I was feeling pretty strong. It had taken a lot of Physio and was walking with a walker, able to dress myself and do most of my daily activities at the hospital. I still had someone with me most of the time, but I was so much better. One morning as my husband was showering, I noticed he had made coffee. I decided to pour myself a coffee. I lifted the half full carafe off the burner and my whole arm started to shake with the pot in it. My low back burned and as I quickly tried to replace the carafe my legs just about went out from under me. I was shocked. I sat in the closest chair and collapsed into my misery. I couldn't even pour myself a coffee. Thankfully I didn't spill it all over myself, but I might as well have for how miserable I felt.
What I now realize is, it has taken a beating on my self confidence. I was always that person who wasn't afraid of anything, spontaneous and game for just about anything. Having a disability has taken some of that away. I can no longer leap before I think. I must think and preplan a lot in my life. So it has in some ways robbed me of the person I may have been. I see groups of woman gathering going to third world countries doing mission work, and know in my heart that would be me if I was healthy. Every group I want to join I have to consider so many things, the chairs, the timing, and if it is accessible and comfortable for me. Spontaneous Maureen has left the building.
I don't want to sound as though I am not grateful for the level of ability I have, I am truly grateful I am able to walk and have healed well enough to resume my restricted mobility. Yet while I have worked hard and can walk daily I am not a fast walker, nor am I a long distance walker. That is fine with me. It was at least until it was pointed out to me by a friend of a friend. When my friend asked if I would like to join them for a walk, the other woman quickly made it clear it would be a power walk.
I felt like a kid in a school yard being bullied, by the bigger, more capable kid. It was as though my disability was being held up to the light for all to see. It didn't feel very good. She wanted her power walk for the day and didn't want me to slow them down. So I declined and walked away. She was aware of my disability. I didn't say anything to draw attention to my hurt feelings. People can choose to include me or not. It's my reaction to it that needs to me examined.
The thing is, it stuck with me the whole day. It's been about a week and every time I think of it it makes me sad. I'm not sure why I let it get to me the way it has, but I'm sure she has not even given it a second thought. It likely wasn't meant to be hurtful.
The vulnerability one feels when you have a disability is great. I felt exposed and not good enough. There's a great quote by John Powell.S.J. That goes something like this. Why am I afraid to tell you who I am, because that's all I have and if you don't like it I have nothing else to offer. Those with disabilities do not have less to offer, just different offerings.
People with disabilities are oppressed all the time in different ways that on the surface does not look like oppression. Just as those of other minorities are as well. When we can all look at each other, and ourselves though a lens of kindness the world will be a much better place.