A Whole New World

So it’s been about six months since my last post and that’s not because I’ve been in some dark hell-hole trying to survive. It’s because I’m healing, but slowly and fragilely, like any real person.

I haven’t eaten anything toxic to my body on a regular basis for six months. I’ve been skating twice a week for the last three months. I’ve been dancing and choreographing. Essentially, I’ve been living. Am I still often in pain? Yes. Does it sometimes get so bad I don’t think I can continue to cope? Yes. The difference is that now I’m beginning to believe it will get better, that there is a pit I’m currently in, but that hell is not eternal. I will have another good day, it’s merely a matter of time. This didn’t happen overnight and I’m still learning to have faith, to truly believe there is something good out there for me.

But these are some essential facets of this seismic and slow evolution:

1.     Food. I don’t eat what is bad for me. I started with essentially nothing, just celery and chicken, and built my diet back into something that sustains me. What works for me thus far (but might not work for you… all IC is different):

a.     Grains: Amaranth, brown rice, quinoa, oats, teff, sorghum, cassava, buckwheat

b.     Veggies: Broccoli, green cabbage, iceberg lettuce, celery root, golden beets, cauliflower, cucumber, basil, and occasionally potatoes

c.     Oils: Olive oil, gee

d.     Proteins: Chicken, seabass, shrimp, scallops, turkey and occasionally almonds.

2.     Mr. Bongort aka Bongo. He’s our cat now. He found us two days after Cymbal died, but didn’t become ours until five months later. He is a handful (literally, the guy is part Maine Coon), but Cymb chose him and we love him for the oddball he is. Nothing will come close to replacing Cymbal in our lives, but having Bongo gives us a super-fluffy puffball that won’t stop purring, which is a pretty good runner-up.

3.     Embracing my love of figure skating again. I love skating in a deep way that sometimes even I forget. There’s a reason I was competing for UCLA while getting a PhD and it had nothing to do with the schooling and everything to do with my undying love for this sport. It’s never been about the competition aspect for me, but having a goal does help focus one’s skating. So I’m competing in the Showcase events (essentially Theatre on Ice) at the local competitions with the hope that maybe I’ll get to the National Showcase later this year in Ft. Collins, CO. It doesn’t really matter if I make it there or not, or even if I compete against anyone. It’s simply been a joy to be choreographing two really fun programs and skating my heart (and lungs) out on the ice. I even throw some doubles in at the end when I’m all warmed up. Also, exercise really helps reduce my IC pain and when I’m on the ice, I’m pain free. Yes. Completely pain free. It doesn’t last the whole day or even the whole morning, but for those 50 minutes on the ice, I’m finally free and it’s a slice of heaven.

4.     Justin Bieber’s Purpose album. Yup. I went ahead and said it. I had written the guy off as much as the next person of my generation. Then I read a book that seemed based very loosely on his life (When It’s Real, a cheesy teen romance) and I got curious about what he was up to after it all seemed to fall apart for him. Turns out he grew up and got married just like the rest of us. And then I listened to Purpose, specifically “I’ll Show You” and “Life Is Worth Living.” Compared to what I expected, it was raw and real in a way I didn’t know I wanted from an artist. I don’t love all of his stuff, but I appreciate his music enough to already have bought tickets to his Changes Tour in Denver this June.  Especially after learning about his experiences with a chronic illness and simply the chaos of life in general (learn more in the YouTube series: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAVgKdbDlRY ), I decided I liked this kid and his music. Please don’t ever call me a Belieber. But yes, I do own a Drew House corduroy hat. It’s actually kinda cute.

5.     Having faith in myself and Rob. We’re both darn smart and the further I explore my IC, the more I realize that we can figure this out. I trust us before any doctor. We know my version of this disease and are thus uniquely qualified to find a way through the minefield it has left. This process is slower than frozen molasses, but I’m living at a 3-5 right now instead of a 7-10 and if that takes six months, imagine what we can do with the rest of our lives.