After a lengthy conversation with my doctor this week, I realized that I had promised to give my readers a closer look into my health journey but I hadn’t gotten to it yet.

 In all honesty, I kept putting off sharing it because there’s a part of me that wonders if it matters to anyone else and another part that struggles with being so vulnerable. Very few people know this part of my story and I never wanted to be portrayed as sick or weak. But the more I’ve prayed about it, the more I’ve realized that our stories do matter and they need to be told for no other reason than the hopes it might help someone else in their journey. For those who do know this part of my story, it has helped them tremendously.

Warning! This is a much longer post than I usually do but I’m praying it will help someone, dear reader!

So, here goes…

I’ve shared on this blog site the fact that I gained an enormous amount of weight when I was pregnant. I was 21 and figured it would come off easily. It didn’t. It wasn’t until I was 38 that I finally lost the extra 50 pounds and got into the best shape of my life with the help of an amazing personal trainer and nutritionist. That was about 15 years ago and I’m happy to say that I’ve kept it off. Some seasons I’ve gained a couple of pounds back; others it was a bit more but it’s always been a struggle to lose and I found out why

The short version of the story is that after having my son, it became evident that something was wrong because despite everything being normal, according to the doctors, we couldn’t have any more children. Fast forward to age 39ish, a little over a year after losing all the weight, a complete hysterectomy became necessary. I fought it for as long as I could because I knew that this overnight menopause was going to be a huge challenge for me health-wise. But the endometriosis was so painful that I started to depend on pain pills. I’ve had close friends who have had the same surgery who said it was the best thing that ever happened for them. But I knew from the moment that I awakened from the anesthesia, that wasn’t the case for me. To say that the next few months and years was pure hell doesn’t even come close to what I experienced. One thing that came from the surgery was a confirmation of a promise I had from God. It took years to get pregnant with Danny and all along that painful journey we promised God that we would raise him to honor His name. Every surgeon (I got several second opinions on the hysterectomy) said the same thing. There is no way possible that I should have ever gotten pregnant. So I know that Danny was our miracle!

I want to stop here and say this. Deep down, I felt cheated. Absolutely cheated. I wasn’t going to be able to have any more children. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I had finally gotten my body in shape, my confidence restored, my whole life changed and now I was fighting with my body to gain some normalcy. It was excruciating. 1 year, 2 years later I was still saying I felt horrible. Well meaning friends and family would carefully hint at the fact that I should have gotten past all of this by now. Turned out that more was going on then first thought.

Before my surgery, the surgeon did a laparoscopy procedure in an attempt to fix some things that she thought was the problem only to sew me back up and tell my family that it was so bad, a complete hysterectomy was my only option. A new treatment was highly suggested that would put me into menopause and start to “clean up” the endometriosis so that the surgery would be easier since the webbing had connected to other organs. I conceded even though there were some side effects, one of which was short-term memory loss. That never came back. Some days I feel like Dory from the Finding Nemo cartoon.

During the surgery, there were complications. The surgeon cut my bladder so there was a big commotion right after I woke up because they thought I was bleeding internally. When they fixed that tear, something started happening with my blood and levels were all off. God intervened and I was finally sent home 3 days later. But when my body experienced all of this trauma, my thyroid levels went crazy along with my female hormones. I won’t lie to you. There were days when I thought I was going crazy. Mood swings, memory loss, freezing one minute followed by hot flashes, difficulty concentrating or comprehending. But what was the overwhelming issue was the constant fatigue. Life-draining, mind-numbing fatigue.

What I didn’t realize is that the conventional doctors (some board certified) missed so many clues as to what was wrong. They treated the symptoms but never got to the root of what was going on. I had one doctor tell me to stop calling her because there was nothing wrong with me and another professional who said I might need to speak to a counselor. I was devastated.

I had heard about functional/holistic doctors but had never been to one. My quest to regain my health took me to at least five in my city. Some were off the wall and I spent more money than I will ever admit on pure quackery. Then I found a 70-year-old doctor that finally found what was wrong. In fact when he got back the results, he had me bring Bud with me. What he told us that day rocked us to the core. Not only was my thyroid function completely destroyed but so were my adrenals. The bottom line was that my body was only working at about 50-60%, functioning as if I were 20 years older then my actual age. After he explained the results of the extensive tests and all that they had found, the next statement was like a blow to the gut. If I didn’t start to repair my body and do what was necessary, I would end up to the point where I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. Honestly, it’s how I felt in that season already.

Now by this point, I was not only helping with the restaurant and running the catering side of it, I had gotten my personal training certification and was also running bootcamps and starting to take on private clients. My workday started at 5 am and ended at 9 pm, later on the weekends. And I loved both of my careers. But when I would tell my previous doctors that I woke up tired, went to work at the gym at 5 am, came home and slept until 9 am to be at work at the restaurant, came home and slept for a few hours, went back to the gym, came back and cooked dinner and slept until Bud got home, got a second wind and stayed up way past midnight, their response was that with hypothyroidism, it would take years to get it regulated and that I should just push through. Yeah, that was a lie. What was wrong is that my adrenal function was messed up. The signs were there but they missed them. And I hid all of this from everyone outside of my immediate family. I put on the brave face, the fake smile, all the while wanting to just rest. Spending the day out on our days off was an exercise in frustration. Traffic, loud noises, pushy people, annoying music. It was like life had become too much. A trip to the mall was sensory overload. I made excuses to not accept social invitations because I needed peace and quiet and solitude just to be able to do the basic things of life. Again, I thought I was losing my mind!

My new protocol started after this eventful doctor visit. My day continued to start at 5 am but I was to eat in a way that helped to keep my blood sugar level, I was put on 13 supplements to help my adrenals heal and was given strict instructions that I was to be asleep by 9 pm.  It was so hard but I did this for one year. And everything improved. I’ve learned over the last several years that stress is no joke and the toll that it takes on our bodies is frightening. My stress reliever was exercise but because of the adrenal issues, the kind of intense exercise that I loved and craved created more cortisol and I didn’t need any more than what my body was already creating. I’ve learned that our hormones run our bodies and what I was going through was a dangerous mix of hormones that were out of whack.

Honestly, I’m still figuring out how to deal with stress when it comes. I’m not very good at self-care even though I preach it to others all the time. Long baths, being out in nature, reading are things that I love but put on the back burner so often. I’m not even sure why. I have been told by several great doctors that I need to find ways to decompress. That’s proven more difficult that I thought.

I wish I could tell you that I’ve finally healed my adrenals, I’m off of thyroid medication and I do yoga 4 times a week to deal with the stress. After that first year of feeling so much better, I continued to push myself, mistakenly believing that I was somewhat back to normal. Eventually I pushed my body so hard that it crashed again right before the move. The fatigue returned and I’ve been trying to regain some balance for it all. Some was my doing, I’ll admit that. But some was my body trying to deal with my levels being off again but this time in the other direction. My body has been through a lot and it’s stronger than I think at times. But I ignore the signs when it’s not strong. It’s always been my downfall. I hate to fail, give up or say “I need help.” Even though the move, the completely different lifestyle was great for me, stress still remains. So much of what I believe we all deal with is mental stress. If we could just understand that no matter where we are in life’s journey, there will always be challenges. It forces us to look at all the good that life brings and not focus on what is not perfect. Statements like “I’ll never” and “I always” are dangerous because it gives us a defeatist attitude.

I have to remind myself that I’m not a failure. My body has not failed me. I’m strong. My body is strong. It just needs to be nourished, cared for and, at times, allowed to rest, mentally as well as physically. I am so proud that I refused to let anyone convince me that it was all in my head. I became my own health advocate and because of it, I’m able to do things I never thought possible after that initial prognosis. I learned that not all illnesses are something that people can see. Some are internal but no less real and no less painful. If you see yourself in any of this, please don’t give up. Don’t stop until you find the professional that can help you.

Where was God in all of this? Right there beside me. I wish I listened to Him more during those times that rest was needed. I ignored Him and I ignored the way my body felt but I never felt like He abandoned me. Ever. And I have been amazed at how powerfully He has used this part of my story to help others with similar health issues find their way. He can use everything that we go through to bring help and hope to others.

My life is a beautiful tapestry. If I were to look at the back of it, all that I would be see are knots and twists and chaos. It’s like those drawings that my 5-year-old granddaughter brings to me. I have to squint really hard to figure out what she’s drawn for me. I see a pig flying on a rocket but she says it’s a princess in a castle and that she thought of me when she drew it. It looks like chaos but to her, it was a labor of love. When I turn that tapestry of my life around, I see a beautiful picture of what God has been doing in my life. Sometimes I have to squint to see what the picture really is but I know that it’s my Creator’s loving hands that are at work!