Things have been emotionally rough and raw lately.  Lot’s of things are in transition.  Relationships in flux.  And I’m still stuck in the hospital (33 consecutive days and 39 total days in the hospital by my count).  I’m trying to think of it as being 39 days closer to being released from the hospital.  It doesn’t work that well though.  But cheery flowers like these ones I got from my Great Aunt and Cousins brightened my room and my mood.

Tests a trickling in and no definitive diagnosis concerning the cause of my brain stem inflammation is yet emerging.

So I was especially pleasantly surprised to receive this cuddly visitor today.  It was just what the doctor ordered.

In the midst of confusion, I often turn to poetry to help capture my thoughts.  I wrote this one in about ten minutes, and I rather like it.  An emotional moment forever frozen like a bug trapped in amber.

A Place For Him

by Lauren Soffer

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
So she goes it alone
As she makes her way home

But the time she tripped
And she didn’t fall
A silent scream
Yet He heard the call
Still She goes it alone
As she makes her way home

Not ready
Not ready to let go
Not ready
For a hand to hold
Cause even crying all alone
At least she knows
It’s all she knows

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
This girl must
Grow up
Not a child anymore
Stand up
Reach out a hand
Lift up
Her heart till it holds
Always
A place for Him

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• Genko commented on Shattered Trust Hi Lauren: Sorry this has been an additional stress for you. I think it must be almost impossible fo
• NovelPatient commented on Shattered Trust I think you misunderstood what I meant. I'm not opposed to alternative treatment all together (
• Suzanne commented on Shattered Trust Lauren, I hope you will give your dad a chance. I’m sure he feels helpless watching you go through s
• Alison commented on Shattered Trust Hey Lauren. I’ve still been thinking about you because it reminds me so much of all I’ve been throug
• Gillian commented on Shattered Trust Hi Lauren. As a mother & a daughter I can kind of see both sides. Watching your child suffer ill

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Post tags: amber, art, Aunt, blog, brain, brain stem, cause, center, confusion, consecutive days, count, cousins, definitive diagnosis, Demyelinating Diseases, diagnosis, doctor, emotional moment, ER, Faith, flowers, heart, help, hospital, inflammation, Lauren, Lauren Soffer, LDS, life, midst, mom, moment, Neurological Disorders, patient, place, poetry, relationship, relationships, script, silent scream, soffer, time, title, transition, type

Things have been emotionally rough and raw lately.  Lot’s of things are in transition.  Relationships in flux.  And I’m still stuck in the hospital (33 consecutive days and 39 total days in the hospital by my count).  I’m trying to think of it as being 39 days closer to being released from the hospital.  It doesn’t work that well though.  But cheery flowers like these ones I got from my Great Aunt and Cousins brightened my room and my mood.

Tests a trickling in and no definitive diagnosis concerning the cause of my brain stem inflammation is yet emerging.

So I was especially pleasantly surprised to receive this cuddly visitor today.  It was just what the doctor ordered.

In the midst of confusion, I often turn to poetry to help capture my thoughts.  I wrote this one in about ten minutes, and I rather like it.  An emotional moment forever frozen like a bug trapped in amber.

A Place For Him

by Lauren Soffer

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
So she goes it alone
As she makes her way home

But the time she tripped
And she didn’t fall
A silent scream
Yet He heard the call
Still She goes it alone
As she makes her way home

Not ready
Not ready to let go
Not ready
For a hand to hold
Cause even crying all alone
At least she knows
It’s all she knows

Life can be wild
Wonder is lost on this child
This girl must
Grow up
Not a child anymore
Stand up
Reach out a hand
Lift up
Her heart till it holds
Always
A place for Him

EDIT: Last night my friends Spencer, Kristi, and I had a blast in my hospital room writing music to my lyrics.  Here’s a REALLY rough take of it – complete with my voice still completely hoarse from an allergic reaction and nasal from having a feeding tube up my nose.  Hehe.  So forgive my lack of ability to hit any of the notes right now, but I at least wanted to give you the idea.

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• Ariana commented on Progress! Yay! So sad I won't be going to ARGfest I love the picture with you standing! Your skirt is
• David F. commented on Progress! Beautiful to see your amazing progress! Congratulations! Have fun a ARGFest… Wish I could be there

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Post tags: amber, art, Aunt, blog, brain, brain stem, cause, center, confusion, consecutive days, count, cousins, definitive diagnosis, Demyelinating Diseases, diagnosis, doctor, emotional moment, ER, Faith, flowers, heart, help, hospital, inflammation, Lauren, Lauren Soffer, LDS, life, midst, mom, moment, Neurological Disorders, patient, place, poetry, relationship, relationships, script, silent scream, soffer, time, title, transition, type

I hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst, and unfortunately the worst won out this time.

I’m back in the hospital again.

I woke up Thursday morning feeling pretty horrible.  Fever, chills, dizziness, and worsening kidney pain.  After three days of oral antibiotics, my kidney infection was getting worse not better.  I called my doctor who agreed it was time to head to the hospital.

By the time I got the ER, fever, pain and dehydration had conspired to give me tachycardia (racing heart rate).  I suppose one of the upsides of being really sick is being seen right away.  Despite the crowded waiting room, they found me a bed in the ER straight from triage.

They ran some tests.  Not surprisingly my white blood cell count was way up due to infection.  The ER doctor quickly explained that though they send home 95% of patients with kidney infections, there were multiple reasons he felt I needed to be admitted.  I’m immunosupressed from all the Prednsione I’m on, I have multiple chronic illnesses, the oral antibiotics at home didn’t work, and so on.

So I was admitted.

I received two different IV antibiotics over the next several days.  My veins weren’t happy about it and I went through 6 IVs in as many days.  But overall my stay has been uneventful.  Mostly I’ve been too tired to do anything but sleep.

I had several visitors who helped break up the monotony.  My mom and dad spent the most time here with me.  Sunday I was pleasantly surprised by a visit from two friends from church, Liz and Halee.  Then yesterday an old friend from high school Jenny paid me a visit followed by Christy and Brad from church.

I’ve been waiting this morning to find out the results of my latest tests and was just told they are good to go.  I’ve been discharged!  Yay!

I will go home with oral antibiotics which I will stay on long term to hopefully prevent yet another one of these kidney infections I seem so prone to getting.  It’s getting old – ending up in the hospital every few months from these things.  I’m hoping that these long term antibiotics will do the trick and keep me out of the hospital.

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• NovelPatient commented on A Place For Him Thanks!
• Alison commented on A Place For Him Not bad for ten minutes! The Dog looks so cute.
• Genko commented on Shattered Trust Hi Lauren: Sorry this has been an additional stress for you. I think it must be almost impossible fo

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Post tags: Antibiotic, antibiotics, Better, blood cell count, Chronic, Chronic Illness, chronic illnesses, Church, Conditions and Diseases, dad, dehydration, doctor, ER, fever, fever chills, Genitourinary Disorders, heart rate, help, hope, hospital, illness, illnesses, infection, ivs, Kidney, kidney infection, kidney infections, kidney pain, Medicine, mom, mom and dad, oral antibiotics, pain, patient, racing heart, sleep, tachycardia, triage, waiting, waiting room, white blood cell, white blood cell count

Wouldn’t it be amazing if, during our darkest hour, we could reach under our bed and open up a box of hope?  A “box of hope” could be a figurative thing that we reach inside ourselves or out to God to find.  But sometimes you need something more.  Sometimes you need a literal box of hope.  And that is just what I created for myself during my darkest hour.

When I was 16 years old, during my senior year of high school, I was immersed in a deep and serious clinic depression.  My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder had just been diagnosed but was not yet under control.  I had constant intrusive thoughts of hurting myself – of ending my life.

Looking back I really had amazing self control on the whole.  But I could only handle so much.  The second time I caved in to the constant bombardment of intrusive images of self-harm, and I ended up cutting myself using razor blades my parents had forgotten to hide out in the garage.

Afterward I was on the phone with my therapist at the time.  She was telling me I was at a crossroads… that if I chose to continue down this path of cutting I would probably end up in a hospital.  I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying.  Instead, I was transfixed by what was sitting on the desk in front of me – the candlelighting piece my mom had made for my younger sister’s Bat Mitzvah.  She had glued this tiny shells all over the outside of it go with my sister’s tropical theme.  And it struck me then with incredible intensity how very beautiful those tiny shells were – how simply amazing it was that something SO tiny could be SO beautiful.  And if something that tiny in life could be that beautiful… well all of life was beautiful and precious as well.

I rushed to get off the phone with my therapist.  I knew that I had to find a way to hang onto this feeling.  I had stumbled upon my internal box of hope!  But I knew that it wouldn’t be easy to tap into again.  I had to find a way to make it physical while it was fresh in my mind.  I had to find a way to remind myself of this epiphany every day because I knew there would be many dark days ahead where I would desperately need to draw on my box of hope.

So I had my mom (who is good at crafty things) help me cover an old shoe box with some bright pretty wrapping paper.  I wanted my box of hope to be private and inconspicuous on the outside.  I didn’t tell her what it was for, but perhaps sensing my urgency she kindly helped me anyway.  Then I took the box upstairs to my room and set to work.

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Going through pictures and old magazines I decorated the inside of the box with things I wanted to do with my life, places I wanted to travel, people who cared about me, things that filled me with hope.  I hadn’t yet found out if I had gotten into USC Film School (a few months later I did), so I put a picture of a director’s chair with “USC Alumni” written on it.  I glued in some of the very shells that had led me to make the box to remind me of how beautiful life could be.

I put a picture of myself as a child to remind myself of happy memories of my childhood innocence.  I was obsessed with The X-Files and desperately wanted to know how it would all end, so I put a picture of that as well.

Most importantly I wrote in large purple letters:

I CHOOSE TO CONTINUE LIVING

I WILL GET THROUGH THIS

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Then it was time to fill the box.  Inside I placed a smiling drama mask to remind me of my love of theater and the creative arts since creativity had always sustained me during dark times and given me something to look forward to.

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I placed my childhood comfort animals – my blanky, kitty, and lamby – inside.  Though nubby and threadbare from a lifetime of being loved the went into the box to remind me to always feel safe.

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Next went the rug I wove myself while learning about Native Americans in elementary school.  I had always hated looking at it when I was younger because I hadn’t done it perfectly like my best friend Jennifer.  But over time I came to love it for it’s imperfections.  In the box, it reminded me that imperfection could be beautiful too!

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I put in a bracelet I made when I was 11.  All the beads were pretty by themselves but together well… it reminds me that you can have too much of a good thing.  But also to have fun and to have a sense of humor in all things.

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Second to last I put in a rope I tediously made myself during Outdoor Education in 5th grade.  I spent over an hour with my hands going numb in an icy cold river laboriously pounding all the moisture out of a reed before braiding it into a rope.  It reminds me of the power of hard work.  And the rope itself, which could hold my whole body weight, reminds me to always be strong.

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Finally I included a letter that saved my life one day.  I was home alone after school and feeling very suicidal.  I was searching for a knife to cut myself with.  Suddenly, I had a prompting to go check the mail before I got any further.  I almost never received any mail, but on that very day the following letter was there for me.

I cried when I read the letter.  It quite possibly saved my life that day.  I stopped looking for a knife and starting trying to figure out who could have sent it.  I didn’t think about hurting myself at all for the rest of that day.  The letter reminds me that I am loved even when I don’t realize it or it doesn’t feel that way, and that God is there working miracles in my life.

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I looked at my box of hope every day for about a year. It got me through a lot of very dark hours and days and months. Then there came a time when I could carry my box of hope around with me in my heart, and I didn’t need to look at it so often.

Now it mostly sits in my closet, but I always know it is there if I need it.  But today I was talking with a friend who is going through a very dark time in her life, and I told her about it.  I offered to send her photos of it, but, I thought, why not go a step farther and share it here?  Perhaps there is someone else who needed a little box of hope today.

Has anyone else made a box of hope or something similar?  Please share and post about it in the comments!

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I’m well on my way on the road to recovery.  I’ve been doing more and more things independently, and I’ve been walking up a storm.  But I’ve been asking myself how much better is better enough?  What risks am I willing to take to achieve a complete recovery?

Since my Baptism three weeks ago, I’ve only used my wheelchair twice – once to attend an all day Transmedia Conference at USC and once to go to the Santa Barbara Zoo for the day with the Singles Ward at Church.  Though I’ve been doing fabulously with increasing my stamina for walking, I’m still a long ways away from being able to walk around all day at a hilly zoo.  The conference and the zoo were both a blast, but it amazed me that I already feel so weird being back in my wheelchair for short periods.  It’s hard greeting people’s belly buttons again when I’ve finally been able to look people in the eye for the first time in over a year.  I also feel more visibly disabled than when I’m just using my walker.

And I’m worried I’m headed back to my wheelchair.  The more I walk the more my joints have been hurting me.  But I’ve been pushing through the pain anyway which probably hasn’t been the best idea because I have now given myself an overuse injury in my left knee.  Now I need to get a knee braces and I’m considering getting ankle braces to prevent further injury.  I’m also supposed to start physical therapy.

So though I’ve been doing great at increasing the distance I can walk, it has come at a cost.  So that is one part of the equation.

The other part of the equation is the question of how I’ve been able to reach this point.  I believe it is largely a miracle.  A gift from God that has allowed me to recover my strength so quickly.  But my doctors feel (and I agree) that it is also that the Rituxan that I did all those months ago has finally shown some benefit.  So the question becomes would another round of Rituxan would get me even farther?  And is that worth the risk?

Those Rituxan infusions were no walk in the park.  I had problems with low oxygen during the infusions themselves followed by weeks of needing to be on extra Prednisone to counter an adverse reaction involving horrible back pain, fevers, and a rash.  And that was relatively minor compared to the other risks involved which could rarely include life threatening complications and infections.  But if the Rituxan helped reduce my joint pain this far, how much more could I be helped by further infusions?  That is a question I will discuss with my Rheumatologist at my next appointment.

In the meantime, I’m left to ponder if this is as pain free as I can get without further risk, can I live with that?  Am I better enough?  But even as I write this, I think I know the answer.

No.

I want my life back.  I want to live without pain every moment of every day.  I want to be able to go hiking and play tennis again.  I want to be able to make plans and not worry about how much energy I’ll have.  I want to be able to accept jobs and not worry about ending up in the hospital in the middle of them.  I want to be able to go back to school and not wonder if I’ll stay healthy enough to make it through the semester.

So NO I don’t want to be better enough.  I want to be better!  And I’m willing to risk a lot to get there.

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• maureen commented on Fear and Liver Failure I’m so sorry that you got this bad news. Fear is a difficult thing to deal with, but it seems you ha
• Shalunya commented on Patience in the Hospital I am blessed that recently I have found myself on the light side of the hospital bed. So I will send
• Ariana commented on Patience in the Hospital Hoping my visit will help with the monotony tonight!!!

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Post tags: ankle, ankle braces, Appointment, art, baptism, belly buttons, Better, Church, complete recovery, complication, Conference, distance, doctor, Doctors, Dressed, Elephants, energy, fever, gift from god, God, health, help, hilly, hospital, infusions, joint pain, joints, knee braces, left knee, Medical Specialties, Medicine, miracle, mom, moment, overuse, overuse injury, oxygen, pain, patient, physical therapy, Prednisone, question, Recovery, Rheumatologist, risk, rituxan, rituxan infusion, Rituximab, road, Santa Barbara, santa barbara zoo, short periods, Singles, singles ward, stamina, Storm, strength, tennis, title, United States, usc, walker, WALKING, week, wheelchair, worth the risk, Zoo

Arise, walk through the land in the length of it and in the breadth of it; for I will give it unto thee.
Genesis 13:17

He answered them, He that made me whole, the same said unto me, Take up thy bed, and walk.
Then asked they him, What man is that which said unto thee, Take up thy bed, and walk?
And he that was healed wist not who it was: for Jesus had conveyed himself away, a multitude being in that place.
John 5:11-13 (King James Version)

Sunday was a small miracle in the grand scheme of things but not so small to me and a miracle none the less. It was a day that I thought would never happen on many levels. One thing that I thought would never happen was get Baptized, but Sunday was my Baptism. Another thing I thought would never happen was walk at my Baptism, and yet I have gone from not walking from for over a year to no longer using my wheelchair at all in the last three weeks.

I’ve been hesitant to talk about my faith here as its a touchy and divisive subject for some, but I figure this is my blog and my faith has become a major part of my life. I share every other aspect of my life here. I would be remiss if I left something so close to my heart out.

But my faith wasn’t always so important to me. I was raised Reform Jewish, and though I was Bat Mitzvahed, Confirmed, and even assistant taught Religious School at my Temple, I never felt connected spiritually to that faith. So in my more recent adult years I’ve been searching for a faith that helped me feel close to God. For a while For a while I was going to the Universalist Unitarian Church in my area, and though I liked the people and the services very much I still didn’t feel that closeness to God that I so desperately needed.

So when Melissa invited me to join her for services at her at our local Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I thought it was a long shot but worth at least checking out.  I had already learned a lot about being Mormon from her during the time she’s worked for me, and she had suggested I could get a blessing for my health when I went to church with her.

I was totally unprepared for what I experienced; I felt God for the first time in a very tangible way.  I knew right in that moment that my search had come to an end.  That I had found what I had been searching for.  I decided to start investigating the church and taking my Missionary Discussions that I would need in order to covert.  My blessing also said that through faith I could be healed.  It has been amazing how true that has been.

Over the following week I started feeling better than I had in a long time.  I decided to capitalize on the opportunity and try walking again for the first time in over a year.  I started with just a few steps.  I expected for the recovery process to be slow going.  I expected that it would take months to build up enough strength to walk more than a few steps at a time after over a year of being in a wheelchair or bed full time.  But I have been praying every night and the improvements to my walking have been exponential!  And in just three short weeks, I went from my first steps to ditching my wheelchair completely!

So Sunday I was Baptized, and I walked the whole day – including down the steps into the Baptismal Font and up again.  My Dad and his girlfriend Wendy were there which made my very happy.  My Mom chose not to attend which was the only sad thing.  It was one of the very best days of my life! And with it I have found such peace and happiness the likes of which I had never known.  Words cannot describe how grateful I am.  It has been such a relief and such a comfort.  I truly believe that through faith in Christ I have begun the healing process!  And I am so thankful to Him for this and for the closeness I now feel to God.  Through Him I have found what I was looking for and more than I could have ever imagined.

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• Alison commented on Love Bug You pretty much said it all. Even if it doesn’t work out, I say enjoy your crush! Don’t wish it away
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• Alex commented on Love Bug I would point out that whilst you think you may be getting ahead of yourself, from a logical standpo

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Post tags: baptism, Baptismal Font, blessing, blog, Christianity, church of jesus, church of jesus christ, church of jesus christ of latter day saints, closeness to god, comfort, dad, Discussions, divisive subject, Faith, Genesis, God, grand scheme of things, healing, health, help, Jesus, Jesus Christ, jesus christ of latter day saints, King James, king james version, Latter Day Saints, life, local church, long time, melissa, mom, moment, Mormon, opportunity, peace, place, Religion and Spirituality, religious school, share, small miracle, spirit, universalist unitarian church, wheelchair

Having a chronic illness can rob you of your independence.  Suddenly you find yourself dependent on other people to do basic things you had always taken for granted, and this changes your relationships forever.

Before I got sick I was a super independent person.  I always preferred to do things on my own and avoided asking for help even when I really needed it.  With the onset of my autoimmune diseases, especially the neurological symptoms and symptoms that limited my mobility, asking for help became an unavoidable way of life.

Now I need help with even basic things like getting dressed or washing my hair – things I have done on my own for most of my life.  Those were the hardest things to ask for and accept help with at first.  It was frustrating for me and it was frustrating for my mom who initially found herself as my only caregiver.  Suddenly she was caring for me in a way she hadn’t needed to since I was a small child.  It tested our relationship.

At the time I felt very hurt at her frustration.  I wondered why she didn’t just automatically understand how much I had to humble myself to even ask for help in the first place.  It hurt when she responded with questions about whether I really needed the help or if I was feeling as badly as I was saying.  We fought a lot at a time when I really just needed her support.  Eventually I came to understand that I was failing to communicate.  I was also blinded by my own experience.  I was so caught up in dealing with the implications of a chronic illness and how it had shaken my world that I failed to see how profoundly it was affecting her as well.

But when I started to communicate this to her – that I knew how hard this was for her too  and that I appreciated all she was giving up to take care of me and that I knew it was also hard to watch her daughter get sick – the fighting tapered off.  I also found new ways to help her in return  that I could still do – mostly various types of computer and technical help.

When my mom simply couldn’t do it alone anymore, my need for help blessed me with two beautiful friendships in the form of two wonderful caregivers.  Sarina, my first caregiver, is more than a friend to me.  Born exactly one year apart, we say we are twins separated by a year at birth.  But it was odd at first having someone – a stranger – my age helping me with the very personal things I needed help with especially since I had been abandoned by several of my closest friends over the prior year.  They simply didn’t want deal with my new found illness and subsequent dependency.  Some stopped being my friend because they didn’t even believe I was actually sick and some of them just found it too much to handle and some I will never know their reasons.  In any case it hurt.  A lot.  But Sarina came in and loved me and accepted me and my illness.  She was truly a blessing and still is.

After Sarina moved away to further her career and get married, Melissa, my current caregiver, came into my life.  She is an angel in my life.  She, like Sarina, is always there for me.  We laugh a lot.  And through both of them I found that though I was sick I could still be a good friend in return.  I could still listen and be there for people.  I didn’t just need help from them, I could give it in return.

But at the end of the day I am still dependent on other people.  And I still hate that.  I don’t think I’ll ever not hate watching my mom or Melissa assemble my back backbreakingly heavy wheelchair.  I hate that I can’t just do it myself.  Though in a lot of ways, my relationships have grown and been strengthened by my need for help, and for that I am grateful, I am still eager to find ways to lessen my dependency.

So I am VERY pleased to announce that I’ve taken a step in the right direction – nine of them.  Last week  I walked (with the help of my walker) nine steps.  It was the first time I’ve walked in over a year!  I was having a low pain day and just went for it.  It was incredibly painful but even more incredibly worth it!

This post is my entry in February’s Health Activist Blog Carnival. If you’re interested in participating too, you can read all about it HERE.

Recent Comments:

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• amanda commented on Fear Girl you know the Lord is watching over you and you will be fine *hugs* love you <3
• Jeanne commented on Full Disclosure Hi Lauren, This is a great post. The vast majority of my 28 years (out of 41) living with chronic il

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Post tags: autoimmune, autoimmune disease, autoimmune diseases, blog, caregiver, Chronic, Chronic Illness, disease, Diseases, friendship, frustration, health, illness, independent person, life, melissa, mom, neurological symptoms, new ways, pain, patient, relationship, relationships, Sarina, symptom, wheelchair

When you are sick all the time you often have to (sometimes unwilling) rely on the help and support of other people.  And that is something that should not be taken for granted.  So today, on the one year anniversary of this blog, I feel like I really have to thank all of you who have joined me in my journey as a novel patient.  During the ups and downs of this last year, your comments and support have been such a source of strength for me to draw upon.  And this blog has come a long long way since my first post.  Not only has its readership grown, but its pushed me to improve as a writer.  It’s even spawned the Novel Patient Community where every novel patient can have their own blog.

Though it has been a rough year in many ways, I am thankful for so many things.  I am thankful for a mom who not only lets me, her 26 year old daughter, live with her, but helps take care of me.  I am thankful for a dad who cares so much for me that he will always try and do what he thinks is best for me.  I am grateful for a caregiver who I also consider a close friend and a also for a best friend who I know will always be there for me when I need her.  I am thankful for a wonderfully supportive sister.  I am thankful for a cuddly dog that adores me.

I am also thankful for my doctors who have often gone out of their way to make sure I get the care I need.  I know I am a very complicated case to have to deal with.  This year I decided to make the five of my doctor’s I see the most handmade holiday cards to let them know how much I appreciate what they do for me.

Recent Comments:

• Dad commented on Walk By Faith Beautiful day to share with you… Love, Dad P.S. I really do have more hair than the picture shows!
• alan m rogers commented on Walk By Faith Fantastic and amazing. I was baptized (in a hot tub, no less!) just over two years ago. I have fibro
• Jen Fryer commented on Walk By Faith What wonderful news. I cannot tell you how happy I am for you.
• Alison commented on Walk By Faith I know it can be hard to talk about your faith in this kind of forum, but I’m glad you did! The best
• Annette commented on Walking: The Power of Positivity and Prayer I heard about the insanely slow taper from someone else, and she had the most success of anyone in a

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© Novel Patient for Novel Patient, 2009. | Permalink | One comment | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: best friend, blog, caregiver, dad, doctor, Doctors, dog, holiday cards, journey, mom, novel, patient, patient community, readership, thanksgiving, ups and downs, year anniversary

Tomorrow I am heading down out of town on a trip to see a Sjogren’s specialist.  My appointment is on Monday.  Since it is about 3 hours away we — my mom and I — will be spending two nights at my Grandma’s house which is in the area.

I have high hopes that he will be able to provide me with some new treatment options.  At the same time I am nervous about getting my hopes up too high.  I have been disappointed by doctors many times before.

It can be hard to maintain hope when living with a chronic illness especially when you are told by your doctor that you are basically out of treatment options.  But the alternative — falling into despair — is much much worse.  So I choose to maintain my high hopes knowing full well that sometimes I will be disappointed.  That’s okay.  Disappointment is a part of life.  I realized a long time ago that you have to take the good with the bad.

On a different note… Sometimes I surprise even myself with what I can do if I set my mind to do it.  Since the start of the month I have been writing up a storm on novel for National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo.  As of this writing, I am up to 10,701 words which puts me about 700 words ahead of schedule!  You can go to my NaNoWriMo Profile page to continue to follow my progress and to read a synopsis and excerpt from my novel.  Since I started doing creative writing again, I’ve been on sort of a writers high.  I don’t remember the last time I was in such a great mood for days at a time!

I’ve also stood up another time for a another whole minute.  I haven’t been able to do it as often as I would like, but the fact that I’m doing it at all makes me very happy.

I think hope is self-perpetuating.  Hope gives you the strength to reach beyond what you think you can do which in turn gives you more hope.  And all these things give me hope for a good today and a better tomorrow.

Recent Comments:

• Jen commented on Dependency Congratulations on the walking!!! That’s fantastic! Is there a possibility of you regaining mobility
• IamFree commented on De-Stress Hi there. My advice is to get a book that will make you look at the things that stress you and asks
• IamFree commented on Keeping The Faith Hi there. If you still have intrusive thoughts now is the time to work on it next. Faith will help y
• Janeen commented on Dependency Wonderful post! You’ve caught the spirit of the blog carnival beautifully. It’s hard to see how a ch
• amanda commented on Dependency Your posts are always an inspiration to me!

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© Novel Patient for Novel Patient, 2009. | Permalink | No comment | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: Appointment, Chronic Illness, despair, disappointment, doctor, Doctors, grandma, high hopes, hope, illness, mom, nanowrimo, national novel writing month, novel, sjogren, specialist, treatment, treatment options, Writing

On Friday I turned 26 years old!  And I really had something to celebrate!  The night before I got a call from my doctor letting me know that the lab tests were a mistake and I don’t have a blood disorder!  I was so relieved I almost cried.  So on Friday I was able to celebrate my birthday worry free!

Even being able to celebrate my birthday not in the hospital is something I’m grateful for as I spent my 24th birthday in the hospital and my 25th birthday recovering from just getting out of the hospital.

So this year I celebrated by giving myself a much needed pampering.  My mom and Melissa (my caregiver) joined me in getting our hair cut and colored.  I dyed my hair red with brighter red and golden highlights.  Then we went out for a birthday lunch at one of my favorite restaurants in the mall.  Afterward we went to Bare Essentials and got our make up done.  Then we went shopping for a while and Melissa bought me my birthday present – a new pair a jeans that actually are small enough to fit (another thing to celebrate – weight loss).  Finally we got all dressed up and went out for a nice birthday dinner!

When living with a chronic illness it can seem like its one bad thing after another.  So it’s especially nice to have something to celebrate for a change!

Recent Comments:

• Marti commented on Keeping The Faith I am SO happy for you Belle! What a splendid development indeed. I can see the joy already and you k
• amanda commented on Keeping The Faith This is wonderful! You never cease to amaze me! I hope my faith can one day be as strong as yours! L
• Alison commented on Keeping The Faith I love how honest this is. It’s hard to talk about faith. I never knew what to think when it came to
• Mela Eckenfels commented on Freedom Drive Hey, I would like to donate some bucks for your dream of mobility, but giveforward.org is a failure
• Kim commented on Wheelchair Dance That was fantastic!!!!!!!!!! First, my fingers were goin’ on the keyboard – I challenge anyone to lo

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© Novel Patient for Novel Patient, 2009. | Permalink | 5 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: 26th birthday, bare essentials, birthday dinner, birthday lunch, blood disorder, Candle, caregiver, Celebrate, Chronic Illness, hospital, illness, jeans, lab tests, melissa, mom, restaurants, weight, weight loss