You CAN Forget How To Ride A Bike

I am about to declare my complete nerd status to the entire world. I have never been known for my physical prowess. I was the kid that always got picked last for teams in gym class. Sitting in a quiet corner while reading a book always seemed more heavenly to me than kicking some ball around.

As I get older, I realize the increasing need to become more physically active. Hence, this weekend I got on a bicycle for only the second time in about 25 years. It was not pretty. I was even given the moniker of "worst bicycle rider in the world" by my husband. He did follow that up though by saying that he still loved me.  : )

I cannot even begin to tell you how frightening it was to get on (and try to stay on) that bike. My heart was pounding insanely while I held on to the handle bars with a vise grip. I was especially anxious when I rode by any pedestrians or other bicyclists on the trail. My biggest fear was that I would hurt someone. At one point, there were two pedestrians walking by, and instead of speeding up to go by them, I slowed down too much, lost my balance, and literally fell at their feet! Pretty humiliating. Even worse, I landed on my knees, severely scraping my left knee. Of course, it just so happens that it is the left knee that had major surgery performed on it about a year and a half ago to remove a very large, benign tumor. I landed right on my scar and it was quite painful.

After my fall, I really, really wanted to turn around and go home. I was sweaty, exhausted, embarrassed, and in pain. My natural inclination is to quit in these types of circumstances and to avoid it altogether in the future. However, I started thinking about all the ERPs I've ever done. Bike riding seemed so scary and terrible at that moment, but honestly, it was nothing in comparison to fighting OCD. I started to remember that every time I do an ERP for the first time, it is incredibly frightening, but then it gets a little easier with each subsequent attempt. I knew I had to keep biking. I didn't want to disappoint my husband. I had been promising him for months that I would join him in bicycling. I didn't want to disappoint myself. Quitting is not an option, either in life or in fighting OCD. The best part, is that when you don't give up, you are usually rewarded with something beautiful at the end. Continuing to fight OCD has given me a much more joyful and meaningful life. Continuing to bike ride led me to a beautiful view off of the trail that I would never have seen had I turned around and gone home.

I really love NH!

Sometimes, we will get bloodied and bruised by doing our ERPs, but we can't give up! What beauty is awaiting you in your life if you continue to fight anxiety?

Blog Follower's Gadget

I know most blogs have the Follower's Gadget added to their home pages. I'd like to add this to my home page as well. I wanted to give notice to any current followers ahead of time, in case they wanted to un-follow (is that even a word?), before their profile pictures showed up on my blog page. If you have any problems with this, please let me know. Yes, I'm probably being OCD about this as I'm sure most people would not double-check first, but hey, I'm still a work in progress!!

Oh My, What A Week!

My little fur-ball got her biopsy last Tuesday. Initially, she seemed to tolerate the procedure quite well. However, two days later she kept visiting her litter box, over and over, which is unusual for her. The next thing I knew, there was blood everywhere. Large amounts of it. It was really scary. I called my husband and he came home from work to drive us to the veterinarian as I was too upset to drive. We discovered that she had a "raging urinary tract infection," to quote my vet. It came on very suddenly, without any prior noticeable symptoms. We started her on antibiotics and this stopped the bleeding in less than 24 hours, but it did not immediately stop the excessive urination.

This whole incident ended up being extremely taxing for me, as it challenged all of my contamination issues. She urinated so much blood on the carpet underneath my kitchen table that I ended up having to throw it away. For days, she urinated all over the house. I tried to keep up with cleaning it, but it was impossible. The house smelled terrible throughout this time period as well. One night, she just wouldn't stop. It was late and I couldn't deal with it anymore. So I literally just walked away. I went upstairs, closed my bedroom door, and went to sleep. I figured I would deal with it all in the morning. You know what? It worked. I got up in the morning and cleaned whatever new 'presents' she left for me. It ended up being fine.

She has finally started urinating normally in her litter box again. The house smells alright today. However, she's vomiting all over the place now. Is it OK if I scream? Last night, I decided to give all the floors a good washing, just to make sure I got all the spots. Not compulsive washing, just a normal, one time, type of washing. While I was on my hands and knees cleaning the hardwood floor in the living room, I turned around and noticed that Anna was vomiting in the hallway. This is starting to get comical. OK, not really. We believe it is the antibiotics, so the vet told me to give her a break from the medicine for about 36 hours to let her tummy calm down. Poor baby.

In any case, it's been a difficult week, but I've made it so far. Yes, my anxiety was ramped up, but not as much as you would think. (Agh, she just threw up while I was typing this!) I'm trying to be mindful, and not let my emotions take control. I'm not thinking about tomorrow, or even later today. It's too overwhelming that way. Slowly but surely, we're making it through this, Anna and I.

I do, however, have really good news. Anna's biopsy came back negative! It was just a cyst, so she does not have cancer! What a great surprise. Thank you all for your well wishes and prayers. It is much appreciated.

Another good note, I just found out that my recent mammogram also came back negative. Ladies, if you're 40 and over, time to schedule those mammograms. If you're under 40, it's recommended to get one mammogram that can be used as a baseline for later. Even if you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for the people who love you. (That's the only reason I did it!)

Children's Mental Health Awareness Week

May 6-12, 2012, is Children's Mental Health Awareness Week. It is so important to remember that little ones also suffer from the affliction of mental illness, like Anxiety Disorders and ADHD, to name a few. Children do not have the ability to express and articulate their suffering and/or their needs as well as adults. It is critical that adults are educated about, and are aware of, the signs and symptoms of illness, so that kids can get appropriate care in a timely fashion.

Me, at age 3

I first displayed some symptoms of anxiety as a 6 month old. I am told that, for some reason, I was unable to keep any food down without vomiting. Thankfully, my pediatrician at the time was quite sharp, and she suggested that I had what she called a "nervous stomach." A few weeks of medication calmed me down enough so that I could keep in my nutrition and stop the cycle. Problem solved.

I recall having my first anxiety attack as a 3 year old. The event is still very clear in my mind to this day. We were eating spaghetti and I spilled my glass of milk. Like any child, I did not want to get in trouble for spilling my milk, but my reaction was completely over the top. I was simply overcome with anxiety and could not stop crying. My mother also recalls this incident, and at the time she was taken aback by how upset I became. My parents kept trying to reassure me that it was alright, but apparently I was a bit inconsolable.

It was during this same time period that an interesting incident occurred at my preschool. My mom came to pick me up, and I was very distressed. Apparently, the staff had rolled me around on the ground to teach me that there was no reason to be afraid of dirt. When my mom saw how disturbed I was by this, she scolded the staff and told them to never do that again! Of course, they actually did the exact right thing. However, my mom had no idea about this, and it angered her to see me so upset by this event.

The truth of the matter is that Anxiety/OCD treatment in the early 1970's was probably not very good. Even if my parents had recognized the signs of mental illness, it most likely would still have gone untreated, or perhaps have been treated in unhelpful ways. However, today, it is a completely different scenario. New treatments are available for a whole range of mental illnesses. Moreover, though stigma regarding mental illness continues to exist, it has certainly improved. Much work still remains to be done in this area, however. We need to talk about mental illness. We need to educate about mental illness. Lastly, we need to protect, care for, and provide treatment to, our littlest and most vulnerable members of society with mental illness.

But I Wouldn't Look Good In An Orange Jumpsuit!

A souvenir from our trip to D.C.

One of the more bizarre and troublesome obsessions I am plagued with is the thought that I will be falsely accused of a crime and be sent to jail. I have spoken with enough of my fellow OCD sufferers to know that I am not the only one to worry about this. The strange thing about this obsession is that there is absolutely no rational basis for it. I have not committed any crimes, nor have I been falsely accused of any crimes. There is literally no reason that I should be concerned about this. Perhaps I have watched too many television movies?

A few days ago, I visited a jewelry store. I have a hard time visiting jewelry stores by virtue of the fact that all of their products are extremely expensive. I feel like I need to walk around the store with an “innocent” look on my face, just so the staff doesn’t falsely suspect me of anything. I’m not really sure what an “innocent” look is, but I try to wear it! The day after my visit, I was mortified to read in the news that there was a robbery at that same store, roughly forty-five minutes after I had been there. My first thought was, “Oh, no, what if they think I did it?” My next thought was, “Oh no, maybe I did it and I don’t even remember doing it!” I had to take a minute to carefully think through my visit to the store to reassure myself that I did not accidentally rob them. (This “thinking things through” is, of course, a compulsion.) The crazy thing is that deep down, I knew I did not rob them. And yet . . .

Some time back, I was in the mall with a relative. I quickly popped into a store to check a price on an item. I was in and out of the store in literally 10 seconds. I then got the obsessive thought that the staff would think this was weird, and that they would assume I stole something. I was also worried that maybe I did accidentally take the product out of the store with me. I had to ask my relative (this too is a compulsion) if I had taken anything out of the store. Of course, their answer was, “No!” Again, I sort of knew that I hadn’t stolen from the store, but I just couldn’t trust my memory or my senses. The fact that I wasn’t holding the merchandise should have been confirmation that I didn’t take it, but . . .

On and on it goes. Sometimes, the local police will release a still picture of a criminal in the act of stealing something from a store. I always look at these pictures, just to make sure it is not me. I know there is no possible way it could be me, but something in my head always taunts, “You never know, it could be you. Maybe you were at that store. Maybe they think you took something.” So I give in to the compulsion to check. Sigh.

Ah, just another convoluted journey through the OCD mind maze.

More Uncertainty

Living with the uncertainty of my cat's health problems has brought some pain to my life. However, living with the uncertainty of my husband's health issues has been excruciating. My husband's flare of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) was so unexpected and so out-of-the-blue. It felt completely uncontrollable. The truth is, it was uncontrollable, like so much of life. Yes, he is in remission now, but what about tomorrow, next week, or next year? We still don't know what it was that set off the flare.

Even worse, we are not sure if he has Crohn's Disease or Ulcerative Colitis (both are autoimmune Inflammatory Bowel Diseases). Though they have similar symptoms, and both can respond to similar drugs, there are slight differences in treatment regimens, depending upon the particular disease. Not having a definitive diagnosis means that my husband may not be able to get the exact right treatment for his specific type of disease. Scarier still, my husband must receive infusions of a special medication every 8 weeks, possibly for the rest of his life. The drug is extremely expensive (think thousands per dose), and carries the risk of significant (possibly deadly) side effects. I wonder if our health insurance will continue to cover the cost of the medication, or whether my husband will develop a terrible illness as a result of his treatment. Sometimes the medication has been known to stop working for patients. What if that happens to him? There are so many frightening thoughts churning through my mind that it is hard to keep track of them.

Beyond those worries, I also have a ton of contamination issues to deal with every time I accompany my husband to Boston to get his treatments. I chose to wear my flip-flops yesterday, as I knew it would be a good exposure for me. However, it started raining, and I got worried that the rain water would splash on my feet and transfer the grime of the Boston city streets onto them. Because my husband's treatments are given in the oncology/chemotherapy ward, it can be troubling to see the suffering of the other patients. I often worry that I might be carrying some type of virus or illness, and that my presence in the ward will cause them to get sick and die. In addition, the nurse often grabs the trash can with his hands, and then without washing his hands, continues to work on my husband.

Yesterday, the cover of my take-out salad fell on the floor. The cover had some oily dressing on it, and I got worried that the oil would cause the floor to become slippery, and that the next patient after my husband would come in and slip on the oil. Of course, I had to wipe the (non-existant) oil off of the floor. This meant that my hands were now contaminated from wiping the (surely filthy!) hospital floor. I then had to go wash my hands in the scary (contaminated) hospital bathroom.

These trips are always difficult, for all of the above reasons. I do continue to improve however, and I've had some recent victories. Yesterday, in particular, I didn't even think about the possibility that I might make the other patients sick until we were literally walking out of the hospital. I did use the hospital restroom several times. One time I even hung my backpack on the back of the bathroom door (wow!). I wore my flip-flops and did not wash my feet when I got home. I drove home from Boston and I noticed that my driving anxiety was significantly lower. I'm sure this is a result of all the practice driving I have had in the city over the last few years.

So I just keep pushing forward, uncertainty and all. I keep trying to give my worries about my husband's health to the Lord. I keep trying to do my ERPs. I try to appreciate today, this moment, because it is all that I am certain about. I also try to be grateful for what I do have right now. Right now, my husband is in remission. Right now he feels great. Right now the insurance company pays for his medication. Right now he has had no side effects. Right now he is waiting for me to eat lunch with him. Right now, I think I'm going to enjoy some time with him.

P.S. If you'd like to learn more about the Inflammatory Bowel Diseases, namely Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis (not to be confused with Irritable Bowel Syndrome [IBS] which is a completely different type of illness), please visit the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America.

Living (And Loving) For Today

Anna the Fluffy Diva

Meet Anna, my feline BFF for the last fourteen years. Anna and I have seen a lot of life together. She's actually been great for my contamination issues. So many times, I felt like she was dirty, but I kissed and hugged her anyway, well, because she's just so cute and squeezable! She's a diva who runs our house. Anna has been known to hiss, swat, and even bite, if she's angry enough. (I have a few small scars to prove it.) However, she's also affectionate, loving, and purrs so loudly, that sometimes you can hear it from across the room. She's the only cat I've ever met who doesn't like to eat shrimp or tuna. She loves milk though, and if you set a bowl of cereal down and walk away, you will come back to find little milk droplets on the counter around the bowl, and all over her fuzzy little face.

Unfortunately, my little girl has a growth on her lower lip. I saw the veterinarian on Monday, and the vet said it looked like a cancerous tumor. An aggressive, cancerous tumor. We won't know for sure until we receive biopsy results, so we scheduled a biopsy for this morning. I have been, of course, obsessing slightly over this. I did some research on the type of tumor that my vet thinks it may be, and the prognosis is not good. I was really looking forward to getting this biopsy done today, as I knew it would at least give us an answer, one way or the other.

I drove all the way to the vet's office this morning with my baby, only to be reminded that I was supposed to have withheld food and water from Anna after midnight last night. The biopsy is to take place while kitty is sedated, and it is necessary to have an empty stomach for safety reasons. Ugh, I can't believe I forgot to tell my husband not to feed her this morning! This means that we are unable to have the biopsy performed until next Tuesday. More waiting. More uncertainty.

I'm going to choose to look at this waiting as an exposure. If it's the type of tumor we think it is, there is really nothing to be done to help Anna, other than make her comfortable. One more week will not make a difference to her survival. It will give me one more week, however, to simply enjoy her, not as a sick cat with cancer, but as the little cuddly fluffball that she's always been.

I have been mentally preparing myself for this day for the last year or so. I knew she was getting up in age, and this is not a shock. Of course, it would have been better if I had just lived in the moment with her and been mindful, rather than wasting any time of this past year to prepare for this. It obviously changes nothing. It just steals the time away. I am going to work really hard over the next week or so to just enjoy her. She's here now, it doesn't appear that she is in any pain, and she's acting like her usual, high-maintenance self.

I don't know what the future holds. The truth is, I never knew what the future held, even when I was unaware she had a tumor. I have today, though; that much I do know. You have today too. Is there anything in the future that you're worrying about, when instead, you could be enjoying what you have today?