Invisible Symptoms: Just Because You Don't See It, Doesn't Mean I'm Not Dealing With It

There are too many to name, but here's a few just to give you a point of reference:

Graves' Disease
Lupus
Hashimoto's Disease
Crohn's Disease
Fibromyalgia

All of these are autoimmune disease that can cause a variety of symptoms and cause the person living with the condition more challenges than most can imagine.  The thing about these diseases is that most often, you can't see them... you have no idea the person dealing with the every day issues even has anything wrong with them.  There is no cure and treatment varies in success.

I should know.  I have Graves' Disease.

It's in my biography. You can read a line or two about it in my EPK, but unless you know me or happen to catch a random post about it when I'm frustrated, you would never know it to look at me.  See, I'm blessed. To date, I've only suffered from the silent symptoms... the invisible things happening internally. Unless you're a doctor, you'll probably never notice when one side of my throat is enlarged (has a goiter) and is bigger than the other.  My dry eyes and sometimes hard time swallowing will go unnoticed.  Unless I point it out, you'll miss my shirt shaking from the heart palpitations.  The nights I'm up cleaning house or writing because sleep refuses to come for days or even weeks at a time, you'll attribute to my personal drive.  And the times when I can't keep my eyes open and falls asleep despite by best efforts because my body is crashing, you'll never witness.  Only my family and loved ones have witnessed all that.

I remember when they finally diagnosed me back in 2006.  I wasn't feeling well that day.  Nothing particular was wrong. I didn't have a fever, wasn't nauseous, or anything like that.  I just didn't feel well.  I had my girls, my niece, and a couple other children at my house so I called my doctor's office and left a message for the nurse to see what he wanted me to do.  They took too long to call back and for some reason, I felt like I should go to urgent care. I just knew something wasn't right. (Listen to your inner voice people.) Anyway, I went to urgent care and between checking in and sitting back in the room waiting on the doctor to come in, about an hour and a half had passed.  After all, I wasn't exhibiting any signs of distress or a medical emergency so they just put me in a room to wait.  The kids were getting hungry (it was about 7pm by this time) and the nurse practitioner came in.  She asked the same generic questions they always do while getting out her stethoscope to take a listen (again, like they always do). Everything was going as usual until she put the stethoscope over my abdomen (your aorta runs from your heat down behind where your belly button is) and she stopped speaking in mid sentence, turned to look back through my chart, and then turned to ask me if I'd ever had an ultrasound of my heart.  Huh? Did she just ask me about my heart? Yup.  She sure did.

I told her that I hadn't and asked why she was asking. She wouldn't answer and then asked if I minded if she went and got Dr. Lee (whom I knew very well) and I said "Why don't you do that?" Lol (Looking back I might have been a little rude right then... but she was asking about my heart so I feel I should get a pass.)

Anyway... Dr. Lee comes in asking about my recent weight loss, if I'd been working out, had less of an appetite, etc. All the while, he's listening to my chest/stomach and speaking like everything's okay. Then he asks if there's anyone else with me besides the kids or if any of them can drive. The answer to both of those questions was "no". He tells me that my resting heart rate is 136 and he wants me to drive across the street to the emergency room.  I tell him that I need to feed the kids first and he says I can't. Tells me to drive straight there, have my niece call my husband (I was married then), and he's calling ahead to tell them I'm coming so they can take me straight back.

And that... was the beginning.

At least now I had a name for it, a reason for the things everyone was judging me on.  You see, for months people had questioned me about my weight loss, my energy or fatigue (whichever they happened to notice).  My church had even made me step down from working with the youth because they thought I was addicted to the pain meds from knee surgery (which I wasn't). But the problem was they couldn't see my disease and my hands shaking/weight loss combination gave them enough evidence to pass judgment even though I feel like they should have known better.

And I was hurt.  Still am.  To this day I feel some kinda way for being taken away from my babies (the teens & youth I worked with) because we had/have a special bond and I didn't do anything wrong.  I was sick. I just didn't know it.  And to make it worse, the pastor's wife was a nurse.  How's that for ironic.

I'm sharing all of this not to point fingers or anything like that, but to say be careful when making assessments about people.  You have no idea what they're dealing with on a daily basis. Yes, I said daily basis.  There's no cure for these illnesses.  Doctors have no idea why we get them and are literally "practicing" medicine in their treatment of them.  Some things work well for certain people and not at all for others.  The autoimmune system is complex and once you get one disease, you are prone to get others which is scary when you know that MS and Parkinson's Disease are part of this group as well.

I choose to not let it rule my life.  I deal with it and keep living.  You only get one life after all, right?

I've included a few links below on Graves' and other autoimmune diseases.  Take a look if you're interested. If not, just remember that people deal with more than you could ever see and sometimes the silent symptoms aren't evidence that it's not physical.

(the video below is from a couple nights ago when my heart was palpitating... sometimes it beats fast and other times just hard enough to shake my shirt/lift objects on my stomach)

http://womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/autoimmune-diseases.cfm
http://womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/graves-disease.cfm
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/graves-disease/DS00181

Julia... Stop acting out my life. Please.

Eat. Pray. Love. 
Runaway Bride. 

I swear this tall, skinny, white woman is living the life of this average height, curvy, biracial woman on screen and I wish she'd just stop it.  Well, not really. She's provided part of my therapy before I was in therapy so I guess I should be grateful. Isn't it ironic how skin color becomes irrelevant, age doesn't matter, and economic status doesn't play a factor when it comes to love and relationships? We base so much in this life on what we look like, do for a living, and where we think we're going, but in reality all of us want the same thing: 

To be happy. To be loved. To be happily in love. 

She'd traveled to 48 or 49 countries; had her passport stamped to prove she'd been somewhere and become worldly educated; only to find that people in every land, of every shape, color, and religion all wanted to know about love. 

How do we find it? How do we keep it? When should we leave it? When should we fight to hold on to it? 

We humans are quite pitiful, aren't we? Simple even. 

Then why do we make things so difficult? 
I would suggest that it's because our focus is misplaced.  We're looking, hunting... even when we say we're not, we're posting our "advertisements" of what we're doing for self so someone else will notice how "put together we are" and find us appealing.  What a conundrum we people are in these days... Especially the women. 

Bless our hearts. 

Let me only speak for myself. How's that? Before someone gets offended and starts saying I think I know all the answers.  I'll make myself the example, ok? 

As a woman, I've been taught to nurture... to edify, uplift, support - be the "help meet" for the man in my life.  And while I'm proud of those qualities... wouldn't trade them for the world, I also think they've been to my detriment because I tend to lose myself in "him". All the sudden, his tv shows become mine, I'm okay with his favorite restaurant, fixing his favorite dinners and desserts.  It's not because I don't know who I am. I'm perfectly aware of the working parts inside me... Probably more so than most people you know.  But it's because I've never taken the time to nurture me.  So if I don't matter to me, it's not an issue to put someone else before me. 

I know to some that may seem foreign, but I believe for more women than we would ever care to let you know, we suffer from this disease of "selflessness". See, what I'm learning now is that I am extreme.  I'm all in or all out. I'm black or white. And it's not working for me.  It's wearing me out.  It's making me want to run down the altar... leave my loves behind... board a plane and head to the other side of the world so I can Eat. Pray. Love. MYSELF.  Because I don't know how I like my eggs or I'm planning to hike on my honeymoon when I have no desire to leave my bedroom... and while these are movie references, you get my point. 

Balance.  

That's the resounded lesson I hear the Universe trying to teach me. Find the things that make me who I am. Recognize the extremes...not only where they take me, but why I let them and then make adjustments.  And if my love at the time is the extreme opposite, then allow him to provide balance as I bring him "center" but never losing me in the process.  Compromise is okay. Disappearing is something altogether different.  I can ride shotgun; give you the spotlight when appropriate; be your cheerleader in the background... as long as you know to do the same when the time comes because I deserve to shine as well. My dreams do not disappear in the pursuit of your goals and my likes do not dissipate because your wants differ.  I matter.  

To me... I matter. 

And what I'm finding is that when I place the focus on me... the happy comes a little easier. The love tends to follow suit because it sees the progress in me and wants to be a part of it.  It's funny that I once needed someone else to love me to let me know that I could and should be loved.  Now, I'm learning that I can love me and if no one else does, then they're missing out. I'm going to breathe anyway.  I'm going to find my joy in an entire pizza engulfed while sitting in my own Naples, Italy, my peace while meditating in the temple of my personal Indonesia, and my "balance of self" in the love I've found within me...and with him.  

I don't maintain every day.  Some days, I slip.  I overindulge and can't button my pants, fall asleep during meditation, or find myself standing on the beach unable to get in the boat.  But the other days... I learn to order my new life's menu in a tongue that was completely foreign to me a month ago... I find meditation over without realizing I've been in quiet contemplation for longer than planned and I meet him on the pier with my paddles ready to row for us.  I'm not perfect, but I'm learning what works for me and mastering how not to let the bad days get the best of me and send me backwards.  

My progress is too important.  It's how I managed to put away my track shoes, step outside my castle of protection where I felt safe locked away from love and what I thought was inevitable hurt, and take the risk again.  And I don't want to go back. 

Yes, there are days when running away is appealing... more attractive than meth to an addict, but I heard someone say this and it stuck with me:

'Yes, you're hurting.  Yes, you're in pain right now.  And if you don't do the drug (in my case, run backwards) the tunnel of darkness will end.  It may be a long, dark road, but eventually, the tunnel will end, the pain and hurt will lessen, and you'll see the light in front of you.  But if you do it... if you take that hit, shoot up... if you run, the hurt never goes away.  The pain stays forever.  You always walk in darkness.  There is no light. 

So for me... I'll continue on my journey.  Eating. Praying. Loving. and Learning along the way what works best for me.  Because a better me, gets a better man who loves me best. 

Dani

http://thisisdani.com
youtube.com/danithepoet
facebook.com/danithepoet
IG: @thisisdanicook
Twitter: @danithepoet 

Assumptions, Stereotypes, or Just the Plain Truth

I was recently criticized for a post I put on Instagram that compared men putting up pics of cars and cash to women posting pics of their tits and ass because I said that they both complain when they attract "hoes" who only want their money and "niggas" who only want to hit it and leave.  The problem was in my use of the word "hoe" in describing the women according to this particular female.  She felt as if I was degrading the women and regardless if they were degrading themselves, she said that I shouldn't.  Her statement was that I was judging them based on their pictures and women dressing sexually didn't make them promiscuous.  (And let me just say that I wasn't calling them hoes or the men niggas.. that's why the words were in quotes... because that's how they refer to each other in the pics)

Having said that, I'm not quite sure we're referring to the same thing... 
There's a difference between dressing in a provocative manner and posting pics that could make the cover of Penthouse.  There's such a thing as being sexy, tempting even, without being vulgar and displaying nudity.  

And I have this thought on it:
If you're a bird and you have wings, I'm going to assume you can fly.  Now, we all know that not every bird can fly, but the majority of the time, it's a safe and accurate assumption.  So, if you conduct yourself in a manner that appears "hoe-ish" in nature, I don't believe you have the right to be offended when I assume that to be true.  

For those who think I'm wrong or wouldn't like it if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd like to address that for you.  When I first started writing and even now to some degree, there are those who think I'm a "man hater" and just blast men all the time, but I don't let that bother me.  I know that if someone actually reads a good portion of my work/posts, they'll know that's not the case and anyone who makes that assumption doesn't really know me.  While social media is an "outlet" and not necessarily the best tool to use when making an assessment about people, I do believe it's pretty much like everything else in life... whatever is most important to you, the way you think, believe, etc will show through more often than not.  You can't hide who you are.  That goes for the good and bad.

As for "judging" people... I have an issue with that word.  I don't think categorizing you or believing you to be who you show yourself to be is judgment.  I think it's smart.  Good prudence.  Judgment is when I determine your value or worth based on that assumption and that's not something I've done.  I haven't said that none of these people are good, have value, or could be relationship material.  That's not for me to say.  Now, there are those who believe a hoe and housewife don't go together, but that's not up to me to decide.  I can only judge if men who post nothing but cash and cars are good prospects for ME... not anyone else.  And it's my prerogative to do so because I can choose who's in my life or not for whatever reasons I deem appropriate.  So... back to the issue of whether I was wrong for making an assumption that a bird with wings can fly:

There's a reason stereotypes exist.  They may be racially, socially, or economically motivated, but for the most part, they are accurate.  That's how they become stereotypes, right?  We naturally associate technology and intelligence with Asians, religion and right-wing values with Republicans, "baby daddy" issues, dancing, and good cooking with Blacks, and the KKK with rednecks.  While there are definitely lots of people who don't fit into these stereotypes, they exist because there's a majority where they've been found to be true for a long period of time.  Don't get mad at me for speaking the truth.  I'm just sayin'.  

It would be wonderful to live in a world without prejudice, but I don't believe that to be the same thing as assessing who people demonstrate themselves to be and then making an assumption based on that information.  How else are we supposed to determine who people are? We have to go on our gut, our spirit, etc but we can't discount what we see with our own eyes because that'd be plain foolishness.  At least in my humble opinion.

So, if your profile pics, IG posts, and Twitter look like the twerkin' pic below... please expect and don't be offended when me (and others) assume you're a hoe.