Dirty Thirty Birthday Shenanigans

Last weekend Taylor came into town to celebrate my 30th birthday again! She is the best!! This time around I dare to say I was more fun than last time because I don't have to care for the ileostomy anymore (that thing stressed me out). It was much needed Taylor time! My life is finally getting to a healthy chapter and she is about to start a different chapter in hers. It's awesome to see her dreams becoming a reality! Our friendship finds a way to grow through these different chapters of life and I love that.

Dana and I had a belated birthday celebration with some of the MarathonFest ladies while Taylor was in town. We went to dinner downtown and saw a show at Sak Comedy.  Special shout-out to Lynn for celebrating my birthday again!

Taylor started a vlog! Check it out and subscribe to follow along as she begins a new chapter.

This is the video she made during her visit for my birthday:
https://youtu.be/0v7IrOcP91Y

This is What I Wanted

The ostomy reversal surgery took about an hour and half on Wednesday, February 28, 2018. It went well and I'm glad to finally have it behind me. My mom went down to the Cleveland Clinic with me to help me again. Even though I hate needing her help, I am grateful for her support.  Taylor was there on surgery day and visited me again the day after surgery. She told me about all of her upcoming plans and it was a good escape for me. My Team Challenge friend, Bonnie, stopped by to visit me the day after surgery, too.

I basically just stayed in the hospital until I pooped. I pooped late on Friday, March 2nd and I was discharged Saturday, March 3rd. When I pooped for the first time out of my original asshole after surgery, I cried. Okay, I sobbed like crazy in the hospital room by myself.  It was the most emotional and happiest shit I have ever taken in my life. It may have been the least impressive shit in the history of mankind, but it was beautiful to me.

Recovery is going well for the most part. Things are progressing nicely. I've been experiencing occasional stomach aches, but they haven't been lasting for too long.  I can sit up from my bed without pushing myself up using my arms. I can bend over and tie my own shoes. I've been walking and working out on an elliptical. I even jogged today for the first time in nearly four months! At times my bowel movements are erratic, unpredictable, and uncontrollable. I've shit my pants more times in the past few weeks than I have in the past couple of years. Of course, the struggles fuck with me sometimes. When it's hard, I remind myself that this is what I wanted. I didn't want a permanent ostomy. I want to poop out of my first ass even if that means it's messy and I can't trust my bowels sometimes. Should I wear depends when I leave the house or should I risk shitting my pants in public?  I think about bathrooms, flatulence, and bowel movements all the time.  At first, the pain took my breath away whenever I sat up or stood up and walked. Thankfully, the pain has decreased significantly over the past few weeks and I'm able to move pain free now. I think I experienced more severe pain from the ostomy reversal surgery than I did from the bowel resection surgery. Since pain medicine causes constipation, I avoided pain meds after surgery day because I knew I couldn't be discharged unless I pooped. I chose to be in pain to give myself a better chance to poop and get out of there.

The past few months feel like they were an out of body experience and it feels weird to be on the other side both surgeries. As if I've detached myself from it in a way. I've been waiting for this battle with Crohn's to break me physically, mentally, or otherwise. I've been waiting for it to change who I am. It hasn't really broken me or changed me this time though. I've somehow managed to bounce back quickly whenever the current struggles fuck with me. My battle with Crohn's in 2012 seemed more difficult to deal with and definitely broke and changed me more than this current battle. Hell, even my battle with Crohn's in 2014/2015 seemed to break me and change me more than this one and it's likely because I have felt a lot sicker in the past than I have recently. I knew going into the first surgery that if I had to pick a time in my life for this to happen, this is it. I think being in shape and somewhat healthy leading into it as well as having the support of my family, friends, and employer helped me get through this as well as I have.

I had my first infusion back on Remicade on Thursday, March 15, 2018. They pre-medicated me with Benadryl and steroids because the risk of an allergic reaction is higher since I was off of Remicade for over six months. When the Benadryl hit my veins, I took a nap.  Now that I'm in full recovery mode and back on the magic juice, I'm going to start making my comeback!

Birthday Weekend 2018

I don't know where to start. I felt special and loved this weekend even though it didn't go quite as planned. This past Friday, Taylor came to visit and she arrived at the house before I got home. Without getting into the gritty details, my mom said and did some things that were mean and not hospitable to Taylor. It upset Taylor to the point of tears. When Taylor told me she didn't want to stay at my place on Friday night, I didn't blame her. I was so mad in my car on my way home when I found out what happened that I wanted to cry! Taylor did not deserve to be treated that way. My chest still feels heavy from what happened on Friday. While it annoys me to be having these feelings, it is better than being numb at the moment. 

I drafted a whole post on the bad part about it along with insight on my relationship with my mom, but I can't bring myself to share it in its entirety. I always try to keep my grievances to myself, so I'm going to share a little background on the drama that built these walls around me instead of sharing something that may cause a loss of dignity. Somewhere along the way enough proverbial stones were thrown at me for me to become numb to the pain. I don't care (at least that's what I tell myself) because it isn't worth the fight anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm not innocent in this drama. At some point though, I realized the drama made me someone I didn't want to be and I closed myself off. I flipped an emotional switch. I stopped playing the game. I built these walls around me and I struggle to let anyone in because of it.

Taylor apologized for not being strong. I apologized for my mom. Taylor doesn't have the walls protecting her that I had. She isn't numb to the pain my mom's words can inflict and my mom's words cut her deeply. It devastated me to see the emotional pain my mom caused Taylor. Suddenly, I was no longer numb to my mom's bullshit. This time, my mom's words cut me. Taylor is stronger than she gives herself credit for. After we had time to talk about what had happened, she told me not to give up on my mom.

Big sister to the rescue! Lynn, didn't hesitate to welcome Taylor and I to stay the night at her place. I was a little terrified to be having my first sleep over since getting the ostomy. It helped that I could make myself at home and use the bathrooms whenever I needed to without feeling embarrassed. We snuggled on the couch and watched T.V. Taylor and I had tequila. It was my first time having alcohol since surgery and other than having a burning sensation around my stoma in the middle of the night, it was okay. A huge shout out to Lynn for taking us in!

Lynn had to leave early in the morning. She was awesome and let us sleep in. Taylor and I had a fun day on Saturday spending time together and catching up!  We went to the Winter Park Farmer's Market where I bought Girl Scout cookies. We strolled around Park Avenue. Taylor had her wedding ring cleaned. We ate lunch at he Cheesecake Factory and our waitress recommended a nail salon close by for pedicures. Taylor treated me to a pedicure. They used a cheese grater to remove all of my dead skin. I don't think my feet have ever been this smooth before. After getting our nails done, we went to the Florida Mall to shop for some ostomy friendly shirts I could wear to work. By this time, my pouch was full and it was easy to tell if the shirts I tried on were loose enough to hide the shit in the bag under the shirt. I got two shirts courtesy of Taylor! Thank you for spending time and money on me, Taylor! I love my feet and I love my new shirts!

When we were done at the mall, we went back to my place. We kept to ourselves and didn't interact with anyone else at the house. The tension in the house was a little awkward. Soon enough Lynn arrived for movie and pizza night in my room. We ordered pizza and watched the first and second Miss Congeniality. I enjoyed our relaxing time together.

Sunday, Taylor and I relaxed as I prepped for my colonoscopy. I was on a clear liquid diet all day. Taylor walked with me while I went rollerblading. We took a three hour nap and we watched Wild Hogs on Netflix. We watched part of the Super Bowl with my family. My mom acted as if nothing had happened. It was stressful and weird. I did an enema before we went to bed around 8:30pm.

I woke up at 4:30am on my birthday to do another enema before Taylor took me to my colonoscopy appointment. I'll blog about that later. After my colonoscopy, we stopped at Wawa and Taylor took me back to my place. We made the most of our time together! I can't wait to celebrate my 30th birthday for real when I'm fully recovered from my next surgery.

Recovery in the Hotel

After I was discharged from the hospital, my parents took me to our hotel nearby. The ten minute car ride to the hotel was uncomfortable. Every turn, bump, acceleration and stop was a little painful. I wore a nightgown with sneakers and I had a travel catheter strapped to my leg.  They dropped me off at the side entrance of the hotel. The walk to the elevator and then to our room felt like the longest walk of my life. The nurse did not strap the catheter properly on my leg. Both catheter straps fell off my leg while I was walking. My mom helped me get to the room. I was exhausted when we finally made it to the room. I had been awake all morning waiting to be discharged and I desperately wanted a nap.  My mom switched the travel catheter with one that did not strap to me. Since the catheter had to stay lower than my bladder, we hooked it to a suitcase with wheels. Whenever I got up, my mom rolled the suitcase behind me. My bladder was leashed to the suitcase!  It made it difficult to move around, so I didn't walk near as much as I should have walked.

I was almost fully dependent on my mom and dad while we were in the hotel (Thursday-Tuesday). My dad left to go back home on Saturday (12.09.17). I wasn't strong enough to get up without assistance. The suitcase holding the catheter was too heavy for me to pull. I didn't have enough hands to empty my ostomy pouch into a measuring cup to track my output before dumping it down the toilet. We had to measure it for my follow-up appointments. I couldn't bend over to empty my catheter nor could I bend over to put on socks and shoes. I could empty the JP on my own, but I couldn't hold it and shower at the same time.  My parents didn't make me leave the hotel, which I appreciated. They went out and brought me back food for each meal. They stepped up to take care of me and I'm thankful for that...even if I am a little worried how my mom will try to hold her good deeds over my head in the future. Throughout my hospital stay and hotel stay, I consistently thanked my mom and dad for everything they were doing for me. No matter how frustrated I got with the nurses, hospital, fevers, my delayed discharge, and comments my mom made, I didn't snap at my mom (or anyone except for the nurse that day in the hospital they wouldn't let me eat or drink when I demanded the nurse to bring me some fucking water). I didn't complain to my mom about any of it. Instead, I slept off my frustrations and I know that even annoyed her at times. I did the best I could and I think she did as well!

The hospital beds were adjustable and I didn't lay flat while in the hospital. The flat hotel beds were hard to get comfortable in. I could only lay on my back because it hurt to lay on my sides. I slept my life away as much as I could with my loud roommates (my parents), the construction in the next room, and the maids. The days kind of all blur together. While I was glad to be out of the hospital, it didn't seem like I made much progress while I was in the hotel. Pretty much all I did was sleep, eat, go to the bathroom, and talk on the phone. Almost every time big sister Lynn called, the maids were vacuuming (lol). I managed to avoid visitors at the hotel. I just didn't have the energy for it. I slept a lot, but I never felt rested.

Around 5am on Sunday morning (12.10.17) the urge to urinate woke me up. I woke my mom up and she helped me out of bed. She wheeled my catheter behind me on the suitcase to the bathroom.  I sat on the toilet and peed into the toilet!!! Apparently, I peed around the balloon inside my bladder that was keeping the catheter in place. I freaked out! I messaged my nurse friends to get their input and I called the Cleveland Clinic. At the advice of Cleveland Clinic, I found myself in the ER. My mom was on top of her care giving game because she helped me get ready and get to the ER in a hurry. I was in the ER for two hours. All they did was flush the catheter line. Basically, they injected saline or something into my catheter tube to fill my bladder, which felt absolutely terrible. It really made feel like I had to pee. Somehow the catheter bag started collecting urine again and the feeling to urinate faded, so I guess it worked. The ER nurse gave me additional syringes to flush the line on my own, if needed, and discharged me.  Not even 30 minutes after we got back to the hotel, I had the urge to pee again. I peed in the toilet again. I was determined not to go back to the ER. Flushing the line didn't seem to work, so I wasn't going to use the syringes the ER nurse gave me. I peed around the balloon inside my bladder that kept the catheter in place throughout the day on Sunday. It wasn't pleasant. I told myself that I only had to make it one more day with the catheter, so I suffered through it.

On Monday (12.11.17), I had a follow-up appointment for a CT Cystogram. I was excited when the results came back okay because that meant they could remove the catheter. I knew having the catheter was difficult to tolerate; however, it wasn't until it was removed that realized just how awful it was. The nurse told me that I had 6 hours to pee. Little did she know that I was peeing in the toilet throughout the day the day before.  I peed soon after getting back to the hotel. It was a lot easier to move around without the damn catheter. I was no longer leashed to the suitcase! On Monday night, I changed my ostomy for the first time by myself. It actually went well!

Tuesday (12.12.17) was my last round of follow-up appointments before I could finally go home. I had the JP drain removed. Perhaps the most pain I experienced during this whole adventure was when the nurse cut one of the stitches holding the JP to my skin. It felt like she sliced my skin. I saw stars! The nurse pulled...and pulled...and pulled the tubing out of my body. The tubing inside me was over a foot long! As the nurse put a bandage over the opening she explained that it's normal to be able to see down into the hole in my body where the drain was until it starts to heal. I was instructed not to put anything into the hole (lol). After the I left the JP nurse, I went to see my ostomy nurses. They examined the pouch I changed myself and said I did a great job. Before I knew, one of the nurses had removed my ostomy (she made it look so much easier than when I did it the night before) and the nurse confirmed that my stoma and surrounding skin looked healthy. The ostomy nurses talked, but I zoned out. I don't know what they said. At this point I was ready to go home. They put a new ostomy pouch on me, asked if I had any questions, and then sent me on my way. After two weeks away, I was finally going home!

My mom drove me home. The three and half hour car ride home didn't pass fast enough. I went straight to my bedroom to put down some stuff and take off my shoes. I had a hat on and must have been looking down because I didn't notice the welcome home decorations, cards, and gifts until I went back into my room after going to the bathroom. A huge shout out to everyone that's supported me through this, thank you! Your phone calls, text messages, sweet cards, well wishes and prayers, gifts, flowers, and donations were more than I could have ever asked for. You guys are all amazing!!! You definitely helped make it easier for me to get through this.

Here's the link to the GoFundMe page my best friend set up: https://www.gofundme.com/laurenfightsback My surgery and hospital stay has been billed at over $100,000! I'm still waiting for that amount to be adjusted for my insurance plan discounts and amounts paid by my plan, but the thought of receiving these bills in the mail is intimidating. Any help would mean the world to me!

I hope my family and friends can count on me, too: https://youtu.be/Yc6T9iY9SOU

My Eight Day Hospital Stay

If you think this post is long, try staying in the hospital for eight days. After surgery, I was on a clear liquid diet for two days, a GI soft diet for three days, one day of NPO (nothing by mouth), and then regular hospital food thereafter. My appetite was non-existent. The fact that the food and liquids tasted like shit didn't help.

I had a morphine pump for three days after surgery. There was a button I could press whenever I was in pain to activate the morphine through my IV. I could only press it every ten minutes, which wasn't an issue. I only pressed it once and I don't remember when that was. The nurses constantly told me not to be afraid to press the morphine button. I have experienced far more agony than what I felt in the hospital, so it was difficult for me to determine if I needed pain meds or not. I've pushed through much higher pain levels without medication on my own because Crohn's is fucking torture sometimes. In the hospital, I occasionally moaned in pain, but the pain never brought me to tears and the pain didn't feel debilitating. After they unhooked the morphine pump, they offered me Oxycodone for pain. Again, the nurses told me not to be afraid of it. A couple of friends told me not to be a Martyr. Was I really choosing to suffer in pain rather than admit I was in pain and take the meds? I definitely experienced pain in the hospital, but I didn't think it was that bad because I've felt worse before and managed it without any pain meds.  I think I accepted Oxy three different times.

I took my first couple of walks on Thursday, the day after surgery. To make matters more complicated, my period started on Thursday. I needed help to sit up. My abs had no strength.  It was a process to unhook my compression calf sleeves that plug in and inflate and organize all of the IVs, cords, and tubes so I could walk. Taylor walked with me. Standing up felt weird. I don't know how else to describe it. My belly felt different and sore. Actually, my whole body was sore and stiff. They took out my catheter and my mom helped me out of bed whenever I had to pee. One time, I hollered out of the bathroom to the nurse, "Something is coming out of my butt!" To my surprise, the mucus coming out of my old asshole was normal and expected. I later found out that my new asshole, the loop ileostomy, has two holes.  One hole for waste that collects in the ostomy pouch and another hole, which is considered a fistula, to secrete mucus through my lower intestines and out of my old asshole. Yes, I now have two assholes and stuff comes out of both of them. I can't make this shit up. It's a nightmare I didn't know existed. On the positive side, a loop ileostomy is always temporary.

Friday, the doctors realized there was a miscommunication. My catheter should not have been removed, so it needed to be re-inserted. Sure, the nursing student shadowing the nurse can do it. She didn't seem very confident, but she figured it out after asking the nurse to help her. The catheter made one more thing to carry with me on my walks. We tied a glove to the bottom of the IV stand so I could wheel it with me on my walks. Why don't they have a wheeled stand suitable to hold a catheter?  I had three visitors on Friday, Badass Doreen, Sas, and Bonnie. They all happened to show up within minutes of each other around 11am. I felt loved and their well wishes lifted my spirits. Sas and Bonnie stayed about an hour. Badass Doreen was awesome and went to lunch with my mom so that I could take a nap. I woke up in the early afternoon moaning in pain. For my entire stay at the hospital, the nurse techs came by every few hours to take my vitals and empty my JP, catheter, and ileostomy. When the nurse tech took my temperature Friday evening, I had a 103 degree fever! I think they gave me Tylenol. My head hurt worse than my stomach at that point. Thankfully, Doreen was there for me and my mom. I think it took a while for my fever to break, but I don't remember when it did. I do know that Doreen left around 9pm and my mom stayed the night with me.

I don't remember much from Saturday and Sunday (I probably slept 85% of the time at the hospital), except that I had a 102.7 degree fever around 8:30pm on Sunday I think they gave me Tylenol again for the fever. I'm not sure when the fever broke. On Monday, I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything. The nurses even stopped my IVs and stopped giving me the routine meds I was getting because I couldn't have water to swallow them down.  The reason they gave me for being NPO was so that they could run tests to figure out what was causing the fevers. I found out later that it was likely in case they needed to take me back into surgery based on the results of the tests. Monday was the hardest day in the hospital. There I was trying to recover from surgery. I was already dehydrated and weak and they wouldn't let me eat or drink anything. I pressed my call button multiple times begging for some water or ice. "Bring me some fucking water!" My mouth felt as dry as a desert. My lips are still cracked at the corners from that day. It took them all day to take me to have two tests done and get blood cultures. The blood cultures came back okay. The first test, a cystogram, was done around 5pm. It was pretty easy since I already had a catheter in. Afterwards, the nurses and my mom wanted me to walk. Ha! I was so thirsty that I refused to walk if they couldn't give me water. Asking me to walk was bullshit.  After the cystogram they hooked me up to an IV for antibiotics, but I still wasn't allowed to eat or drink. They took me to get a CT scan with an enema contrast right before midnight. By this point I was pissed, annoyed, thirsty, and hangry. Moving on and off the CT table with only one person helping me was a struggle and it hurt my stomach.  When the tech was inserting the enema tip for the barium contrast, I realized that my stricture closest to my rectum was still there. No wonder the ostomy is temporary! I advised the tech of my stricture and the pain the large tip (lol) was causing in my anus. (Don't worry, I've already accepted that anal will never be for me.) I was happy once the CT was over, but disappointed that I had to wait for the results before they would clear me to eat and drink. When I got back to my hospital room after midnight, I slept until morning. I was completely drained. The blood cultures, cystogram, and CT results all came back okay. We never found out what caused the fevers. I think it was just my body trying to heal and recover. It was on overload. Although looking back, I would be curious to know if the fevers were a result of taking the pain meds. Even though I lost it a couple of times on Monday, I tried to hold it together and I was a lot nicer than I wanted to be. 

By Tuesday, it started to feel like I would never get out of the hospital. It didn't matter that my appetite increased a little because every time a meal came, the nurse tech decided to come in and empty my JP, catheter, and ileostomy and then suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore.  Eventually, I got the bright idea to start asking the nurse tech to wait until I finished eating. Taylor visited me, brought dry shampoo, and did my hair. I love her! I didn't shower the entire time I was in the hospital. They helped me wipe myself down, but that's just not the same as a shower. I walked six times on Tuesday! Yet again, I had another fever Tuesday night. This time it was only 101 degrees and it came down quickly after I took Tylenol.  When my doctor and his team made their rounds early Wednesday morning, they let me know that if I can go 24 hours without a fever they will discharge me on Thursday. I walked six times on Wednesday, too.

Around 4:30am Thursday morning, the nurse tech took my temperature with a reading of 100 degrees. Knowing I wouldn't be discharged if I had a fever, I asked the tech to take my temperature again since I didn't feel like I had a fever. The tech immediately took my temperature again with a reading of 98.4 degrees. I don't understand how the thermometer can give those two different readings in a matter of seconds. We went with the second reading. Around 6am, my doctor and his team let me know that I would be discharged! It's a slow process to get discharged. The pharmacy had to fill my prescription, the ostomy nurse had to change my pouch and give me supplies so that I could change it on my own, and my nurse had to get all of the discharge instructions in order. When it was finally time to ditch the hospital around 1pm, my mom helped me change out of my butt flap gown and she put my socks and shoes on me. I was overwhelmed with emotion as I moved from the hospital bed to the wheelchair. I cried a little as the nurse wheeled me down to the car my dad pulled around. Other than that, I didn't cry in the hospital. I left the hospital with the JP and catheter and I had follow-up appointments the following week to have them removed.

I survived my first hospital stay due to Crohn's disease. I've had some terrible Crohn's days in the past fifteen years and it makes me wonder how I managed to avoid the hospital until surgery. The surgery, hospital stay, and staying in a hotel afterwards were the most difficult two weeks of my life. The results of the surgery were better than I expected going into it. Although I shouldn't be surprised it went so well because I had the best surgeon! The support from my family and friends meant the world to me! They are absolutely amazing! They made sure I knew I wasn't going through this alone.

When I need motivation, I blast this song: https://youtu.be/8hkmuTvkp_s

My Ass Cannot Catch a Break

Last week, I had a chest x-ray scheduled on Tuesday. When the nurse checked my vitals, she informed me that my doc was going to be sending me to an imaging center to get my chest x-rayed so that a radiologist could view the images and conclude the findings. We decided to do the other pre-op clearance stuff instead. I had eaten prior to my appointment that morning, so we couldn't do the required pre-op lab work. At least we were able to do the EKG. For the EKG, my pants stayed on! It was a nice change from most appointments.  My doc couldn't retrieve the EKG results while I was there because their system was down. According to my doc, my blood pressure is equivalent to blood pressure of fourteen year olds (amazing!). He also raved about how happy he is to see me weigh in at 160lbs!  160lbs feels awesome to me, too! Of the many things I'm worried about post-surgery, weight loss is one of them. Right now, I feel strong physically as well as mentally. In the past, losing weight had a way of fucking up that strength for me.

On Wednesday, I met my friend, Brittany, for breakfast in Clermont prior to my cystoscopy appointment with my urologist. I stand corrected, Clermont is neither podunk, nor bumfuck (lol that correction is for you, Britt). It was great to catch up with her at breakfast and be distracted from my forthcoming doctor appointment.  We arrived at my appointment at 9:30am so that I could get a shot of antibiotics an hour before the procedure at 10:30am. Britt waited in the waiting room while I went in the back.  As my nurse mixed the antibiotics in a syringe with some kind of numbing agent, I let her know that my friend would be coming back with me for the procedure. My nurse seemed concerned and wanted me to make sure my friend knew that I would be exposed (umm, how else are you going to stick a scope up my urethra?) Once she was done shaking the syringe, I rolled up my shirt sleeve. To my surprise, she said, "I have to give this to you in your buttock". So, I dropped my pants and underwear. Apparently, it's painful and the butt check offers the biggest muscle to inject it into. I smiled and laughed to myself as I walked back out to the waiting room to join Brittany. I let her know what happened. My ass cannot catch a break!

Before I got into position, the nurse said it won't hurt and would only take two minutes. Soon enough, I found myself sitting on the exam table with my feet in the stirrups and nothing but a modesty paper covering me below the waist.  The nurse rubbed me with something to numb the subject area. I can only describe what I felt next as a shot in my pee hole! WHAT THE FUCK! I do not know what caused that pain (was it a needle to numb me further or something else like a clamp to hold my urethra in position?). I didn't ask either. Just thinking about it again makes me short of breath. Brittany let me hold her hand and I know her presence helped me endure the craziness of a cystoscopy. The nurse told me not to get off the table while she went to get the doctor (haha). Once the doctor put the scope in me, we were able to see my bladder on the screen. They pumped sterile water into my bladder. There was notable abnormal inflammation and lines he said indicate that I strain to urinate (I don't think I do).  We did not find the fistula. The scope was super uncomfortable and he let it drop out when they stopped pumping the water, so then he re-inserted it back in which seemed awkward. Normally, I don't seek company at my appointments, but this is one I am fortunate Brittany was there to help me through it! Thank you, Britt!!!

This week I will finish all of my pre-op testing on Tuesday by getting lab work, a chest x-ray and a cystogram. Hopefully, a cystogram will be nothing compared to a cystoscopy. After that, the only appointments left before surgery are my call with a Cleveland Clinic pre-op nurse on November 22nd and my stoma marking appointment at the Cleveland Clinic on November 28th.

2017 Wine and Dine Weekend

I joined three other running divas for a weekend at Disney's Wine and Dine 10k and half marathon (19.3 miles). We met at Epcot around 4AM on Saturday to take a bus to the Magic Kingdom parking lot for the start of the 10K. Badass Doreen made us coordinating costumes for each race. For the 10k, we represented different countries in Epcot (America, Germany, Italy, and Mexico). The 6.2 miles flew by as we chatted, told stories about being drunk, enjoyed the on-course entertainment, and posed for pictures!

After the 10k, we went straight to Animal Kingdom to explore Pandora - The World of Avatar! The Avatar Flight of Passage ride was out of this world! It felt like I was actually riding a Banshee! The effects were super cool. It's like as a futuristic version of Soarin' only you're on a Banshee in Pandora. We rode other rides and took advantage of photo-ops with characters. By 4:45PM we went to get our cars at Epcot before checking into the hotel.

The shower at the hotel was amazing! I started a pillow fight and jumped on all three beds (its my hotel tradition). Two of the divas went on a two hour adventure to pick-up dinner. I took a nap while they were on their adventure. Once they returned, we ate dinner and had a funny conversation about their dinner adventure among other topics that exhausted runners find amusing(basically everything was funny at this point). After dinner, we went to bed.

On Sunday, we caught the bus from our hotel at 4AM to the Magic Kingdom parking lot for the start of the half marathon.  Our costume theme was Beauty and the Beast (Beast, Belle, Gaston, and Lumiere). The fellow runners and volunteers loved our ensemble! I video called my sister, Kim, and we sang "Happy Birthday" to her. I also video called Taylor, which was fun even though I woke her up (sorry, Taylor). I got into character as Gaston and boasted about my charm, beauty, and muscles throughout the race. I was arrogant and narcissistic!  Whenever anyone cheered, I acted as if they only came to the race to cheer me on.  It was a blast! We focused on having fun and stopped for photos along the course. Another running diva was handing out cold towels at the finish line, so we found her and took a selfie together! After her volunteer shift, we all went to lunch.

Most of us took a nap after lunch to rest up for the after party at Epcot Sunday night. We washed our outfits so that we could wear them to the after party. The running divas even made doing laundry fun! Cindy and I explored the hotel. We played ping-pong, went down slides, enjoyed a bedtime story, and learned how to draw Nemo. The after party started at 8PM and ended at 1AM. We entered Epcot around 8:30pm and we left around 1:15PM. We rode rides, ate and drank at the food and wine festival vendors, and took advantage of more photo-ops with characters. In one of the lines, a guy was excited to see Belle (Cindy), until he saw Gaston (me) and then he wanted nothing to do with Belle. He asked me if we could take a picture together and inquired if I could flex for the photo. He handed Belle his phone and before Belle took our picture, he felt my muscle. I told him it was real! lol After taking our picture, Belle proceeded to take a selfie of her and the Beast. It was absolutely hilarious!

By the time we got back to the hotel early Monday morning, it was almost 2AM. Despite not feeling my best, I kept up with the divas all weekend! I experienced stomach pain this weekend. I gave vague answers when I was asked how I was feeling. My plan was not to acknowledge the pain. The pain wasn't constant. However, when it hit me, it took effort not to hunch over, moan from the torment, and wrap my arms around my belly until it went away. Speaking of pain, the bottom of my left foot also hurt. Was it really hurting though, or was it ghost pain?  Whether real or not, pain probably slowed me down a little, but it didn't stop me (story of my life). this weekend was the break from reality I needed! I laughed so much that my face cheeks hurt, too!

One Month Away

Bowel resection surgery is one month away from today! It's getting harder and harder to stop thinking about it. I am amazed by the support of everyone around me! They have every angle covered! One of my Team Challenge friends is going to give me some supplies so that I can test run the pouch and wafer before surgery in order to prepare for a possible ostomy. My supervisor, co-workers, and HR department have almost eliminated the stress I had about potentially missing up to eight weeks of work. I couldn't ask for a better team at work! My supervisor is extremely understanding and tells me that my health comes before work. My cube neighbor even sat me down to inquire how I was handling it. She let me know that the people around me at work care and she volunteered to carry the weight of my shit if it gets too heavy or if I need a break from acting like everything is okay(Please don't ruin my performance. It's as much for me as it is for you.). My best friend has my back every step of the way and will be taking off work to be with me in the hospital. My Running Divas are with me through this, too. I've only known most of these ladies for about a year and others less, yet they show their incredible support through genuine acts of friendship. They're encouraging and offer valuable insight. One pledged to take the money we are going to be reimbursing her for for making our running costumes and donate it to Crohn's disease research. They offer comedic relief! They have a caring scale that is off the charts. One has taken it upon herself to be my big sister. My Team Challenge friends from south Florida have already asked if they can visit me in the hospital, and I approved. My mom will be with me the whole time and my dad will be with me most of the time, too.  Two of my sisters will be with me when I return home after surgery and one of my sisters will fly into town three weeks after my surgery. Other friends and family have voiced their support and let me know they are here for me as well!

How did I get lucky enough to have all of these people in my life? I am overwhelmed by everyone's support! I didn't expect it. Yes, I tend to underestimate relationships. I'm not sure I deserve these awesome people in my life because I'm not sure I'd be that great of a friend if I was in their shoes. I don't like being held accountable for others' expectations, so I try not to put expectations on others. To give my lack of expectation more perspective, I'll tell you what happened today when I expected something. I ran a two miler and five miler today. My mom, dad, and Kelly walked the two miler, but I ran with a Running Diva because I had to finish in time to start the five miler. The five miler started before they finished the two miler.  My family rarely goes to my races let alone enters to race. As I was approaching the five mile finish line I searched the crowd for my family. They weren't there. They weren't there because they went back to sit in the car to wait for me when they were done rather than cheer me on. Perhaps it's my fault I was disappointed because I didn't ask them to cheer me on at the finish line. Little things like that are why I try not to have expectations and it's also why the amount of support I'm receiving feels a little strange to me...like I'm not entirely certain what to do with it.  I am more grateful for it than I can put into words though!!! One day I'll get better at showing my appreciation. Saying "thank you" doesn't seem like enough!!

That Bitch, Irma

By the time I got back into town after Labor Day weekend and went to the store to see what I could get to prepare for that bitch, Irma, the selves where the non-perishables belonged were already empty. One of the few benefits of living with my parents is that they prepared well enough for the hurricane so that all I had to do was basically just show up at their house for shelter. I know it's not very adult of me, but my preparations only included:

• Helping board up my parents house
• Parking my car at my uncle's warehouse
• Packing my duffle in case shit got real
• Charging my phone and back up batteries
• Charging my electric toothbrush
• Putting batteries in flashlights
• Buying bread, green beans, and chips

I probably should have been more concerned than I was, but I did not allow everyone else's stress and worry get to me before the storm. We lost power around 8PM Sunday, September 10th, so we were without power and A/C early on. It didn't take long for the house to get fucking hot!  By 9PM, I was asleep on the tile floor in the kitchen with my pillow, sleep mask, and Beat headphones blaring music. The tile was the coolest spot inside and I couldn't hear the storm with my headphones on. I woke up briefly abound 5:30AM and moved to my bed for about two hours until the heat was too much to bare.  So yeah, I slept through hurricane Irma.

It was still very windy Monday morning, but I helped clean the yard and move debris to the road. Although the neighborhood lost a lot of trees, the houses didn't have any major damage. The lake was up to the fence in the backyard and all of the docks were under water. As soon as our county lifted the curfew at 6PM on Monday, I went to my uncle's warehouse to get my car. We had gotten a generator and everyone claimed a spot in front of the fan without any room for me, so I slept on a patio chair on the porch with the noise of our neighbor's generator on one side and the noise of our generator on the other. Again, I used my sleep mask, and beat headphones to get to REM. 

Tuesday morning I went over to my uncle's house to help him clean up his yard and the mess that was left behind after his sun room roof blew off.  I went into work at 2PM and left around 5PM. At home, we had more fans plugged into the generator on Tuesday night! It was still too fucking hot to get comfortable though and I found myself sleeping on the porch for the second night in a row with the annoying generators.

Irma taught me that I am higher to maintain than I realized.  I need air conditioning! Please, spare me the whole "it could have been worse speech". Plus, it's difficult to get ready in the dark with a flashlight and cold showers are not my cup of tea. I wasn't stressed before the storm, but I was certainly stressed and uncomfortable after the storm. My bowels were proof with irregular BM's and some stomach pain. Thankfully, running friends with power offered to let me stay with them!  I ended up staying two nights (Wednesday and Thursday) with Badass Doreen and her family. Her kindness is overwhelmingly amazing and I owe her big time! It was great getting to know her and her family better.

I went back home after work on Friday because our power came on. Things are slowing getting back to normal...whatever that is. 

"Probable Fistula to the Bladder"

A week ago, I had the MRI for "additional views". I fasted all day and drank three more cups of barium. It took them five tries to get an IV hooked up. Ouch! The last of the bruises are still healing. Thankfully, they put me in FEET FIRST on my belly, so my head stayed out of the machine! I was in the machine for about the same amount of time as my MRI earlier that week. They didn't charge me for it though. I got two MRIs for the price of one!

The nurse from my gastro's office called me Tuesday morning to let me know my MRI "showed significant inflammatory changes and probable fistula to the bladder." She didn't go into detail and just confirmed that I had a follow-up appointment with my colorectal specialist to discuss the results. I shared the "results" with some friends and a few asked me what it means. Honestly, I have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine. "Inflammatory changes" compared to what? Did SimonMed send these "results" or did my gastro determine this himself?  If a fistula to the bladder is "probable", I want to know the exact probability. The symptoms lead me to believe the probability is 100% because how else would stool get into my urine.  I spent all that money and endured those tests for them to diagnose me with the same thing I had diagnosed myself with a month and a half ago. The field of medicine blows my mind.

On Tuesday, August 22nd, I have an appointment with my colorectal specialist to discuss the results of the MRI(s). My running friend, Doreen, is going to go with me. I'm really happy she agreed to go with me when I asked her. Doreen is the absolute nicest person I've ever met! She's badass and super smart! I'm hoping with her help, we will ask my doctor the right questions to better enable me to make an educated decision on how I want to move forward.

Side note: Lisa (MRI Tech), Michelle (nurse), Juan (nurse).

Running: An addiction, An Infatuation, An Inexplicable Desire

I am completely obsessed with running! It's an addiction, an infatuation, an inexplicable desire to lace up my running shoes and put one foot in front of the other every chance I get.  This past weekend I ran the Distance Dare at the Winter Park Road Race, which was a two miler followed by a 10K for a total of 8.2 miles. It was great fun racing with my running friends! Afterwards we not only had our beer tickets for free beer, we also happened upon others giving away their beer tickets. By 9:00AM I had ran two races for a total of 8.2 miles and had two beers. We ran into a bunch of people from my Ragnar team, so we chatted for a bit. When we left the beer area, we walked around the different vendor tents and stopped to enjoy free breakfast and coffee! The races were awesome and the after party was even better!

On Sunday, I met up with some of my running friends that didn't do the race on Saturday. We ran 8 miles and were lucky enough to see two bald eagles during our run! My running friend, Badass Doreen, made an excellent breakfast for us to enjoy after our run. Her husband crafted homemade cappuccinos to go with the heart shaped waffles that were absolutely perfect.

The people I run with are a fantastic group of individuals that support and challenge one another. Some people in our group are going through a shitty period of time in their lives, and it's encouraging to see us stand together in friendship and understanding. We are not alone. Sure we are running friends, but I think we might be regular friends, too. We went to see Beauty and Beast together. Next week, we are going to Paint with a Twist and the week after that a bunch of us are going to surprise the lady in our group that's in a play by showing up to see her show after we have a potluck dinner. 

Well, I said I was obsessed with running.  I ran a total of 16 miles this past weekend and I'm not training for anything specific. It was just for fun! At the moment, there is no place I'd rather be than out on the road pounding the pavement with each step I take. It's liberating for it to be as easy as it should be without any unnecessary struggle. I feel strong. I feel awake. I feel alive. I don't typically buy race photos, but when I saw the picture below I couldn't help myself.  I want to remember how great I felt in that moment, and even now. It captures the pure joy I find in running.

I jumped over the finish line of the two miler before the start of the 10K. Is it just me, or does it look like I still have hops from my basketball playing days? I think it looks like I'm flying!

Highlights of February 2017

I'm not sure what I've been preoccupied with that has prevented me from sitting down and blogging this month. In an effort to save time, I'll give you the highlights of February 2017.

I had the best birthday to date! I spent my birthday weekend with Taylor and she made me feel incredibly special. From the thoughtful gifts to the planned surprise celebration, it makes me wonder what I did to deserve such an amazing friend. She got a bunch of my friends together to surprise me at an escape room, which, by the way, we escaped with like fifteen minutes to spare! No thanks to me, of course.

I've had a couple of really fun races (the Warrior Dash and the Quack Attack 5K) with my running friends. Seriously, they are such an inspiring group of people that they build everyone up. I'm not sure if running is fun by itself, or if running is only fun because of them. Anyways, I'm still as addicted as ever. I woke up at 4AM this morning to meet my group for a morning run. I thought the motivation I had to train while training for the NYC Marathon had long since dwindled, yet I'm still setting my alarm for that ungodly hour.

Work is busier than ever! Don't get me wrong, I love it! It just seems like I have more responsibilities than I have time in a day, in a week, in a month...well, you get the picture. It's challenging and I wouldn't trade it for anything at the moment.  The overtime is awesome!

Even though I'm Taylor's Maid of Honor, she has really held my hand and walked me through my responsibilities. Heck, she's helped me with almost everything. However, with just the few things that I've had to do this month to help prepare for her bridal shower, it reinforces my lack of desire to ever have a wedding or shenanigans for myself.  I know I'm lazy and that's probably why it feels like way too much work. I tried really hard to do my best, but I'm actually nervous the cake and cake stand I ordered won't be perfect. What if nobody likes it?  The fact that I think I'm going to like it is not enough.

Goodbye for Now, Uncle Don

Upon walking into the viewing yesterday, Grandma began weeping. While standing next to the open casket of her dead son she cried, "What am I going to do without you?" "I love you so much!" "How am I going to live without you?"

I lost it instantly (So much for my plan to be in control). I sobbed for Grandma's pain.  Somehow I found myself next to Grandma supporting her, but there was no way I was going to regain my composure by the time the service started if I stayed with her. It was so bad that my dad asked me if I was going to be able to give the eulogy. I wasn't sure I would be able to do it, but I told him, "Yes."

Family, friends, and co-workers gave their condolences. My mom saved the day by taking my place next to Grandma so that I could collect myself. I went into the bathroom, took deep breaths, blew my runny nose, and wiped my eyes. I looked in the mirror and I didn't recognize myself.  I saw a young woman growing up much too quickly. It wasn't a kid looking back at me, it was an adult. I stopped crying and told myself, be their rock. They need you to be strong and to honor Don.

After I left the bathroom in control, I met with the pastor. He went over the service and told me when I would be introduced. My dad asked me not to look at him while I was speaking. Right before the service started, I placed my notes on the podium and I moved to the front row with my Uncle Mike, which was right in front of Grandma. The Pastor lead us in hymns, scripture, and prayer, and then he introduced me.

I walked up to the podium and looked out into the audience before I started speaking. There were at least 50 people in attendance.  I introduced myself and thanked everyone for being there. After a short intro, I began telling family favorite memories we have of Don and I followed with my personal favorite stories I have of my Uncle. In all, there were 10 stories I told.  I held it together until the end of my last story. "He truly believed in me and I'll never forget that." Although I didn't cry at this part, my voice cracked and I had to take a beat before finishing with the short conclusion.

To end, I looked over at the open casket three feet to my left and said, "Don, there is no doubt that you are loved and you will be missed dearly." I was holding it together until I heard my Uncle Mike in the front row catch his breath. I glanced up and that's when I lost it. I choked out "Keep Grandpa out of trouble in Heaven for us. Goodbye for now." I left the podium in tears and took my seat next to Uncle Mike. He gave my leg a reassuring squeeze. The pastor gave a final prayer and it was over.

Afterwards, a lot of people came up to me and said what a wonderful speech I gave and that Don would be proud. Others mentioned that they wouldn't have been able to do what I just did. I met two of Don's co-workers from Red Lobster. He worked there for 39 years and he worked with them for 19 of those years. They had really nice things to say about him and thought of him like a brother. The one brought a Red Lobster name tag with Don's name on it pinned to a rose and asked if she could put with him in the casket. I nodded my approval.

In the car ride to graveside, my Grandma asked me if she could have a copy of my speech. I gave her the notes I read off of. The next day (today), when Kim was visiting my Grandma, Kim said that Grandma told her that it meant a lot to Grandma that I gave her my speech and that she has read it multiple times already.

That was probably the hardest fucking thing I've ever done.

The Best of 2016

I know there's a lot of hate going around the internet towards 2016.  However, 2016 was a phenomenal year for me for the most part!

• I was promoted at work.
• I entered and won a lottery entry into the NYC Marathon on my first try.
• I made new friends at work.
• I started new medicine (Remicade).
• I felt the best I've felt in over a decade! I got my life back!
• I had awesome bowel movements.
• I joined a running group.
• I made great running friends.
• I trained for a marathon and regularly woke up at 4am or earlier three days a week to run.
• I joined a gym.
• I saw Halsey live in concert.
• My best friend got engaged!
• I said yes to be my best friend's Maid of Honor!
• I socialized and stepped outside of my comfort zone.
• I went to NYC on vacation with my best friend!
• I ran the NYC Marathon!
• I ran an awesome half at OUC!
• I ran my first relay and my first trail run at Ragnar!
• I camped for real!
• My sister graduated from UCF!
• I got an electric keyboard to learn how to play.

"I Don't Care About the Presents Underneath the Christmas Tree"

To quote Mariah Carey: "I Don't Care About the Presents Underneath [the my] Christmas Tree."

I had a very humbling experience volunteering at XL106.7's Baby DJ program with my Ugly Stepsister and her Sprint team last night.  Baby DJ collects toys for kids, and then invites people unable to provide Christmas for their families to come to the toy warehouse to "shop" for free toys for their children. The parents are allowed to pick up to three toys per child. We helped over 700 children last night alone in our community!   It really made me count my blessings and I plan to volunteer again next year.

Begin rant:
Now that I'm an adult, my days in believing in Santa are long behind me. I don't have a Christmas list, nor do I expect anything for Christmas. Let's be honest...If I want something, I'll buy it for myself. (i.e. an electric keyboard).  For me, Christmas tends to be about the obligation of buying presents and it bothers me because that is not what I want Christmas to be about. I feel a little guilty for feeling obligated to buy gifts for others. After all, 'tis the season for giving. However, I'd rather donate my time and spend my money on those less fortunate than my family and friends. Except for a couple of people (3), I don't feel good about getting family and friends gifts because most of the time it just feels like something I have to do since they get me presents. I'm giving a lot of fucking gift cards this year because I'm just not into it. (is it wrong that my heart just isn't into it?) It's different if I get something that I think someone will love and don't expect anything in return (umm...isn't that the kind of giving we should be doing?) I want Christmas to be about enjoying time with friends and family and sending good wishes to those away from home with a card or a phone call. I want Christmas to be about helping those less fortunate than me. It's too late to save my Christmas, but I am going to make sure next Christmas will be the Christmas I want, which means having a lot of difficult conversations with people who will likely be disappointed. There's more to life, there's more to Christmas than gifts!
End rant!

Run, Camp, Sleep, and Repeat

The Alafia Ragnar Trail Relay was a super fun experience that took me completely out of my comfort zone. First of all, if I wasn't as healthy as I am right now, camping with Crohn's disease would have seriously freaked me out. Thankfully, I am not dealing with any symptoms, so it wasn't an issue. Secondly, even though I was camping with strangers (now I consider them new friends) and sharing a tent with a guy I only met a couple of weeks ago, my social anxiety was nonexistent because I felt welcomed and a part of the team, aka, Sloth Squad!  Lastly, I had never done trail running before and this past weekend I did an extremely difficult mountain bike trail with cliffs, hills that seemed like mountains, and hairpin turns (it felt like I was running in another state) and I even ran a trail at night...in the dark with a head light!  It was an amazing whirlwind of an adventure.

Unfortunately, I am not very good at trail running. I fell a total of four times and bruised my knees like a kid on the playground. I sprained my ankle on my first trail run. Somehow I managed to push through the pain and finish strong. I went straight to the first aid tent and had the medic tape my ankle tightly to limit its range of motion and offer support so that I could continue the relay. We had a onesie party at camp, porta potties became a way of life, and we became a part of the Ragnarian family!

I carpooled to the relay with two people on my team, The Sloth Squad. We left early on Saturday after we were finished with our legs of the race because we had to get back to Orlando while the rest of our team finished their last legs of the relay. Our team captain picked up our medals when they were done and I'm excited to get it from him Tuesday night at Ten10 Run Club.

I had to get back to Orlando to attend my company's holiday party. It was kind of a rush to get cleaned up from camping and running in order to be presentable at the semi formal event. I'm really glad my sister, Kelly, went with me as my plus one. We enjoyed the cocktail hour before the grand ballroom opened at the Orlando World Center Marriott. I introduced Kelly to co-workers, most of which were executive managers because that's who I work closest with. She got to meet George Smith, the co-founder of the company, which was neat. The International/Entertainment VP told Kelly and Mr. Smith about the Owner Contracts I'm working on for him. The party had a live band, a dance floor, a delicious buffet, and an open bar. I lost count of how many jack and cokes I enjoyed. I had an interesting conversation with our W/WW (water/wastewater) VP about running and triathlons. We are both typically quiet, but the alcohol made chatting more natural for both of us. lol. My supervisor even gossiped about office drama. I stayed seated for most of the night because my ankle was swollen and it hurt to walk, so walked with a limp. By the end of the night, I went to dance with a lady who asked me to go on the dance floor earlier. She danced all night long with her husband and others and was constantly pulling folks up on the dance floor with her. She introduced me to a guy on the dance floor and we danced together for a couple of songs. He twirled me!!! Seriously, I was twirled and I wasn't sure I was twirling correctly, but it was fun! I likely wasn't very graceful with my bum ankle though... not that I would have been more graceful without a bum ankle. Afterwards, Kelly said "Well, he was hot!".

The last few days have been a blast with very little sleep, which means it's time for a nap!

Runner's High

I'm going to just jump right into this post. I ran the Space Coast Half Marathon on Sunday, November 27th in 2:28: 06. It was a good race with three ladies from my MarathonFest group. It's never fun to race while I'm on my period, but I made the most of it. No real cramps; however, around mile 9 I started to slow down because I wasn't feeling well.  I finished a few minutes after the other ladies in my group and caught up with them for a picture after the race. We enjoyed some post race chocolate milk and soon afterwards I found myself in a porta-potty barfing the chocolate milk and perhaps even dinner the night before. The girls were great. One of them gave me a baby wipe so that I could clean up a bit, and then they walked with me to get some water. I cut the post race party sort because I wasn't feeling well. I wanted to wait for Kim to cheer her on at the finish line, but instead I texted her to tell her that I got sick and I would wait for her in the car. I was really happy with a sub 2:30 half marathon! I'm really happy to see my hard work of training for the last several months paying off.

Less than a week after the Space Coast Half, I ran the OUC Half Marathon on Saturday, December 3rd.  I met a few people from my running group for a group photo before the race. Almost everyone split off and did their own thing except for Michelle (my Ugly Stepsister), Sara, and I. Sara stayed with Michelle and I until mile 6, and then she let us take off. She did catch us briefly while I was enjoying my second cup of beer along the course right before mile 10, but again she told us to go ahead. I was actually the one pacing us most of the race. Even though we talked about how we were feeling every mile or so to see if we needed to adjust the pace, we both agreed to keep pushing. We posted a 10 minute mile during the seventh mile of the race. After that, I tried to make an effort to slow down a little. Michelle makes running fun by talking nonstop, telling stories, telling jokes, and getting to know the runners around us. She forgot her salt tablets and I knew when she got quiet around mile 10.5 that she wasn't at 100%. She didn't say she was struggling and I kept a steady pace even though there were times I had to look back to make sure I didn't lose her. Once we turned the final corner and had the finish line in sight, she said "Go, Lauren, go!" I knew that was her telling me to take off and sprint towards the finish line. I finished in 2:24:55!!! Another sub 2:30 half! Plus, it was over 3 minutes faster than the Space Coast Half the week before. Michelle didn't finish too far behind me. I went to give her a high five right after she crossed the finish line and she opened her arms and gave me the biggest hug. She thanked me for pushing her and said that if it wasn't for me she wouldn't have been able to post the time she did. Afterwards, she told me that she was cramping up (salt tablets help prevent her cramps), but didn't want to say anything because she didn't want to slow me down. 

OUC was a great test run since we plan to run the Disney Marathon together. Racing is always different from training runs, so it was good to race together and see if we want to change our strategy.  I have mad respect for the way she pushed through the discomfort and finished strong.  We agreed that our pace will be intentionally slower at Disney. I'm thankful to have someone to run with that pushes me as much as I push her. Since we are part of a Track Shack training program, we had VIP access, which included fancy porta-potties, and an area with food, tables and chairs.We met up with Sandra from our group and we enjoyed the sandwiches and cookies in the VIP area. I met Michelle's wife, son, and brother. It was great to finally meet her wife whose brother is struggling with Crohn's. We chatted about his current situation and medication and I gave what advice I could knowing that everyone's disease is different. She thinks that I represent the hope of the good days that are ahead for him, and I pray he finds relief from the horrible symptoms of Crohn's disease. He is also a runner and I completely understand the separate pain that can come from not being able to do what you love.  Although I'm beyond grateful for my health, I can't help but have a sense of survival guilt. I am not taking these healthy days for granted.

Ragnar Trail Relay is up next!

Everyone Deserves a Friendship Like Ours

I just want to take this moment to brag about my best friend.  She challenges me and encourages me to chase my dreams. Before I found out I got into the NYC Marathon, she was on board to go with me in the unlikely event that I won a lottery entry.(I never would have guessed I would get in on my first try.) I know this trip isn't happening at the most ideal time in her life as she is busy making huge life plans (like planning a wedding and buying a house). Yet, her support hasn't faltered. She's in it for the long run, pun intended. Since I'm a marathoner, I know and appreciate her commitment to being my biggest fan and her dedication to being my best friend. I'm overwhelmed by the fact that she will be in the grandstand seating area to watch me accomplish this amazing achievement.  Not only does thinking about crossing the finish line make me emotional, the thought of sharing that experience with her has a powerful affect on my race mentality. I want to run the race for me and I want to finish strong for her. She wants me to cross that iconic finish line in Central Park as much I want to cross it! Everyone deserves a friendship like ours! 

As much as this trip is about the race it's also about being on vacation in NYC with my best friend! We haven't vacationed too much together. Will this be a test in our relationship? I doubt it, unless we're testing to see how high we can get our level of awesomeness. Will this be an audition for the Amazing Race? Unlikely, although I have a feeling using public transportation will be comedic and terrifying at times. I believe this trip will be one we remember for the rest of our lives. Even without NYC in the equation, I'm excited to get some much needed Taylor time!

A Chronic Diagnosis

This post is about chronic conditions from my perspective. I know one person who was recently diagnosed with a chronic condition and another person who may soon be diagnosed with a chronic condition, so this topic seems really relevant to me. (One of them might read this, the other one will not read this unless I copy and paste this into an e-mail.) As you probably know I've been dealing with a chronic condition since I was 15 years old. Now, I understand I have a different condition from these two people and they have a different condition from each other; however, I think it's important to recognize possible similarities to be better equipped to support one another. 

I remember the scariest thing I learned was the fact that there is no cure. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just trying to be real to let others know about this aspect of a chronic diagnosis. There isn't a magical pill to fix this. Surgery will not make this permanently go away. Let that sink in for a second.  I recently filled out FMLA paperwork and my condition was described by my healthcare professional as "lifelong".  The prospect of having to manage this for a lifetime can be intimidating.

I want to reassure you that this diagnosis was not your fault. Even though the world wants you to keep your shit together, it's okay to fall apart sometimes. Cry, scream, curse if you must because it's far better to let it out than to hold it inside. You are strong regardless of the tears staining your cheeks. You may be pressured to hide the bad and ugly aspects. I encourage you to seek a family member, a friend, or even a counselor you can talk to without being judged and without being forced to hide what you're truly feeling. I think others mean well when they advise us to be positive. Would they really be positive in your shoes though? I give you permission to air out your negative feelings. In my experience, if suppressed, negative feelings can fester into depression even if you're faking positivity. You will encounter folks that believe dietary changes will be the solution to your problem, but I want to warn you not to get your hopes up.  My ex-boyfriend's sister's goldfish had this same condition and cured it by XYZ. I'm saying be cautious. Ugly cry, write about it, and tell your story because heroes fight different battles. You're a hero and this is your battle! Don't give up, FIGHT!

A Faster Gear

It's been a busy week.

Last Monday, I had dinner with my old friend, Brittany. She's not that old, our friendship dates back to the good ole days of childhood though. It's always great catching up and getting her perspective on this thing called life. Britt, is one of my biggest motivators and supporters and her gentle advice helped to pull me out of my last depression. I love you, Britt!

Last Tuesday, I received my first Remicade infusion, so I worked late throughout the week to make up lost time so that I wouldn't have to use vacation time. After working a few nine hour days last week, I wondered how I survived 12 hour work days when I worked at Mazda. I only managed to get in one four mile run during the week, but I kicked ass and averaged an 11:07 minute per mile pace. That's about the pace I was running before my surgery! Hell yeah!

Friday night, my friend, Veronica, from Texas arrived around 11pm. Normally, I would be fast asleep at that time. Especially, considering I planned to wake up at 6:15am to start my 6 mile run before the sun had a chance to heat things up. I didn't go to bed until around 1am, but I didn't let lack of sleep be an excuse to push back my 6 mile training run. When I started my 6 mile run, I felt my body kick into a faster gear. After two miles, my sister, Kim, joined me on rollerblades to keep me company. I told her I may have went out too fast in the beginning and I might start slowing down, but I was able to maintain that faster gear until mile 5 when I slowed down only to find the faster gear again for mile 6. I ran 6 miles in one hour and five minutes! My average pace was 10:51 minutes per mile.  I didn't take any walk breaks and every other mile I took a quick 10-15 second break to hydrate. It felt amazing! In fact, I'm still on a runner's high from it. How the heck do I get faster the farther I run?

I went to the MarathonFest info session at Track Shack to learn more about the training program. I was able to talk one on one with the program director. I showed her my split times for my six mile run and she told me that would place me in the 4:30-4:45 pace group, which is a 9:45-11:00 minutes per mile. I didn't realize I was that fast. I registered for MarathonFest. It starts the beginning of June and I'm hoping I'll be able to train to finish NYC in less than 5 hours. PR, here I come!

I spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with Veronica, her mom, my sisters, and my mom. I made breakfast for everyone on Mother's day, which is a huge feat for me. I wanted to quit, but I managed to finish the pancakes and bacon. We also went to Sak comedy for Mother's Day. It takes a lot out of me to be that social for that lengh of time. It's been fun to visit with them; however, I am in dire need for a long nap.

Next time, I'll blog about work gossip. (this is my reminder)