Category: Health

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First Half Marathon: 4 Years in the Making- Part 2

Part 2 of my first half marathon attempt, at the Denver Rock & Roll Half and Full Marathon

(Part 1 can be found here)

Four days before the race, I had an appointment with my orthopedic surgeon and physical therapist for my elbow.  The surgeon released me, saying I was two months ahead of recovery schedule and he gave me his “blessing” to run, saying there would be no consequences to my elbow. The physical therapist said I was ahead of schedule as well, and with another month, she was confident we could work out the last of the resistance in my elbow to it being fully extended.

I was so excited- it felt like a giant weight had been lifted, and I now had the confirmation I was going to be OK- I wasn’t going to be limited to one arm, in pain, for the rest of my life. That was it- there was no reason medically I could not run. The next day, Thursday, I did a light workout, just to get the legs moving, and I felt a shin splint pain, when I was done. It was in the same place it had been over the summer.  I rolled it out on the foam roller, and tried not to freak out.  I told myself it still had two full days of rest, and it would be fine.  I took it easy with rest until Sunday- race day. I could barely sleep the night before, but managed to get a few hours in, until my alarm woke me up at 4:30AM.  Today was the day I had been working for, for four years- I would know in a few hours, if I could do this!

I arrived at the race at 6:15AM- an hour before race time.  I had to park a mile away and walked in.  It was about 45 degrees out- much warmer than I had thought it would be.  I had brought my warmer running jacket, because it had lots of pockets to hold all my race stuff, but realized it would be way to warm to wear.  So I was mentally trying to figure out if my running shirt and running capris would hold my 2 GU fuel packets, a packet of sport jelly beans, tissues, and lip balm.  I figured I would just have to make them fit in my two pockets.  The walk was a good warm up and I was happy I had no shin pain whatsoever.

The race site was already buzzing and energetic.  The sun was coming up.  I saw lots of people together, and a lot of solo runners as well- young and old- it was nice to see such a variety of runners. I drank a little water, ate a small bagel, and figured out where the bag check was. I warmed up and stretched for about half an hour. I took one of the GU energy packs.  I had to walk back to the starting corrals, and my friend texted me- he was in a different starting corral than I, but we wished each other well.  I took off the last of my warm clothes, checked my bag, and headed to my starting corral.

By now the sun was up, and the first wave of runners were off.  I was in starting group 9, and I think there were are 16 or 17  starting waves. It was so crowded, I couldn’t make it into the corral, with the crowd on the street, so I just crawled through an opening, and waited. I actually had no nerves- no butterflies.  I was concentrating on not starting too fast.  Much easier said than done.  I started getting some adrenaline as our group started walking towards the starting line.  I was here, really here.  It hit me. I was really, really, about to start off on my 13.1 mile dream.  This wasn’t a 5K, or a fast 3K.  13 miles- it was going to be long- it would probably be painful at some point, but I got tears in my eyes.  I was here for ME.  This was 100% me- no one else. If I could do this- I could do anything.

“5-4-3-2-1!”  I hit the start on my Garmin and ran over the starting line.  My only thought was not to go too fast.  Meanwhile, hundreds of people were blowing by me.  I felt a little wimpy when the 50 and 60-year old runners were passing me, but it quickly passed. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t running for anyone else- just for me.  I was going to run my race- all 13.1 miles, exactly as I had planned.

I settled into a nice pace for the first mile, despite hundreds of people passing me.  I smiled and was thankful this wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew some of the people were running way too fast. It made me keep looking at my Garmin though, and I was nervous. I was running a consistent 11:30 pace.  That was too fast. I had to slow down.  In training I was running 12 and 13 minute miles.  I wanted to run at least 12 minute miles for several of the first miles.

Miles 1 and 2: The first two miles were easy for me.  I was trying to get on a 12 minute pace but couldn’t.  It felt too slow, and not how I wanted to run this day.  I was feeling very strong, not tired at all.  All the running I have done- whether it was a half mile run, or a 10 mile one, trained me for this.  I knew I could run consistently 11 something miles, and while I wanted to run smart, I certainly didn’t want to feel like I held back.  This was my race- my time- to run exactly how I wanted to.  I made the mental switch at about 2.5 miles. I was going to run by how I felt. I could always slow way down to 12 or 13 minute miles if I needed to.  I stopped looking at my Garmin, and just tuned into my breathing, and pacing.

Mile 3: I hit the 5K mark, 3.10 miles, at 35 minutes. It felt perfect.  I had 10 miles to go, and I wasn’t tired at all.  I noticed I started passing people that had blown by me in the first few miles.

Miles 4 and 5: I just ran. There were some hills, no big deal.  My treadmill hills had been longer than these. The crowds cheering on the streets were awesome. I saw lots of signs, smiling and waving people. One man had a little baby strapped to his chest, holding a sign that said, “Becky, you are my hero.” It was so sweet- it just made me smile.

I slowed down a lot going through the water stations- I didn’t want to spill water on me, and I figured slowing down that extra little bit during the stations, might help me in the end. I actually had to use the restroom quick, but every time I passed one, there were such long lines. I didn’t want to stop, get out of sync, so I just pushed it out of my mind, and kept running.

Mile 6: I hit the 10K mark, 6.2 miles, at 1:10, and I had seen I just had a 10:58 mile, and I was feeling fine. I actually teared up at the 10K mark, because this was the longest distance in a race I had ever ran.  Lots of 5K’s,a 5 mile race, a 9K, but I have actually never ran a 10K race distance before.  I was starting to feel a little tired half way into this mile. I had planned to refuel with a GU energy, and did so at the half way mark. I started to feel a little pain in my shin, but I told myself to push past it- it was temporary, and I didn’t notice it anymore for the entire race.

Mile 7: I was starting to get tired, but I think at the end of it some of the energy pack kicked in. I had taken some of the sport jelly beans, as well. I had been taking water and Gatorade at the stations, so I figured I was doing all I could to make sure my body had enough energy and was hydrated. But, I was really having to pee- the lines were just still too long, and I was running so well, I didn’t want to stop- even for 5 minutes, and risk not being able to get back in sync.

Mile 8: I felt good. This was what I had run just 6 days earlier and still felt like I had a lot more I could do.  It was only 5 more miles. I was loving this run- I didn’t want to think too much ahead, but I was starting to think this was shaping up to be one of the most enjoyable runs I have ever had.

Mile 9: My “slow” start started to pay off.  I was passing a lot of people. I was still running to how I was feeling, but felt like I was slowing down.  Plus it was about a half mile stretch of consistently uphill. I looked at my Garmin and it didn’t look like it was running correctly.  I pushed stop and start on it, quickly, and then realized it was running.  But I had gotten the lap time off. But I was running 11/12 mile pace.  At the end of mile 9, I just felt my body take over.  I felt like I had just started running, and ran faster. There was no pain- my elbow didn’t even hurt. I was starting to run more assertively.  Everything was in sync.

Mile 10: I arrived at mile 10 at 1:56.  It hit me I only had a 5K left to do- 3.10 miles, and I knew I could run that!  I started to tear up, but made myself stop. I was running the strongest I had yet, and I didn’t want tears to mess it up.  I realized no matter what- I was going to finish, and I was on pace to finish far faster than I had ever let myself think I could.  I was running in the high 10 low 11 minute miles, and it was getting towards the end.  I reminded myself not to push it too much.  I wanted to finish strong.

Mile 11: Someone threw a very long (or so it seemed) hill in there. It was tough.  It slowed me down.  But, I noticed I was the person doing the passing.  Not one person passed me uphill.  I wasn’t competing against anyone else, but it made me feel strong, and I realized I AM strong.  I finished the hill a little tired, but not beaten or worn out, and felt 100% in control- this was my race, I was having the perfect run, and it wasn’t over yet.

Mile 12: I started running faster, and I was smiling.  This is what I had worked 4 years for.  I heard people cheering. I heard people say, “look at her running so fast, how is she doing that?” I think they were talking about me, because everyone I was running by was pretty much walking, or running very slowly. I was picking up the pace! I was confident I had run smart.  I may not have had months to train, but I know how I run, and in this mile, I was running with my heart and my spirit.  I had this, and I wasn’t going to be walking to the finish line.  Hell no! I was going to dig deep and bring everything I had to the last mile.

Mile 13: I told myself to just go, and enjoy- this was it! The last mile, was the single most, empowering, exciting and great thing I have ever done just for myself!  All my obstacles, all my health issues, all my difficulties in life, all my fears, all my doubts- for this small sliver of time, had disappeared.  I was this close to doing the impossible for me. From lying in a hospital bed with my neck sliced open with an organ gone from, having cancer in my cells, to taking radioactive drugs to kill cancer, to having parts of my body burned off to prevent cancer, from losing my mom, to being cancer free to having been in a cast on my arm just weeks before, from losing one of the most important relationships to me weeks before, to knowing I’m not perfect, but I don’t give up. When most people would quit- I don’t. I am strong when I am meant to be weak.

For this last mile, I had extra to give, and I knew it would be the fastest I ran, in the final mile of a half marathon. It all came together- as much as my mind, body, and spirit, had been distraught in the months before, they were strong all working together, as one. All the interval training I have ever done, all the sprints, all the running came to the surface, and I had no more thoughts. I just ran. I was free.  I held nothing back.  I ran that last mile (it helped it was downhill!) like I was running for the gold in the Olympics, because for me it was- it was my gold medal to my dream.

Mile 13.1: I saw the finish line. I saw myself passing person after person, I heard the crowd just cheering, and I knew I had done it.  I crossed the finish line, and in that moment my dream for “someday” wasn’t a dream anymore. It was reality.  It was today, in that moment.  Nothing held back, no regrets. I had just run the race of my life. I had ran 100% from my heart, and I could never ask for anything more. I got my dream- I got my moment of something wonderful!

I remembered to hit stop on my Garmin, and saw I had just run the last third of the mile at an 8:51 pace.  My final time was 2:29.  I had been hoping for 2:45, and the time was just the icing on the cake.  My final mile had been my fastest: 10:21. My Garmin said I ran 13.31 miles, but official race says 13.10, but our times were the same.

I got wrapped in a heat blanket, drank some chocolate milk, given a smoothie, and just let it soak in.  More thoughts and feelings hit me- I cried a little.  This- the race- this is what it is all about. Falling down and getting back up, over, and over, and over, no matter how many times.  If you want to finish, you have to start.  Giving your best, after life hands you its worst.  I have failed at many things in life, I have gotten very sick in life, I have made huge mistakes in life, I have regrets, I wish I could have done many things differently, but all these things- just like all the miles added up to get me to the finish line, these mistakes, imperfections, these less than ideal situations in life, make me who I am.  Without these, I doubt I ever would have run one mile, let alone 13.1.

Life takes its toll, but running teaches me, despite my imperfections, my mind, body, and spirit do work together.  It teaches me my failures and fears will NEVER be stronger than my determination and spirit. And in that last mile it taught me, if you are lucky, follow your dreams, sometimes your fears and failures will intersect with your dreams and successes and make it all worthwhile- more than you can possibly imagine!

Thank you to all my friends, family, and everyone who has supported, and believed in me and my running over the years. I can’t possibly thank everyone individually, but I need to mention some specific people, who if not for them, I would never have been able to achieve my health and my running dreams.

To my sons, Ryan and Cole: Thank You!!  You guys are my biggest fans, and my biggest helpers.  I love you both with all my heart.  If you were not so awesome and flexible to work Mom’s running in with your play schedules, I would have never had enough time to devote to running. You guys helped Mom run her half marathon!!

To Mara, Jeff, Vanessa, Kat, and my dad:  My family, I know you are always there when I need you, and thank you for always believing in me.

To Amy: I could tell you I was running to the moon, and you’d support me.  From cancer help, to running encouragement- thank you for being a true friend, in every sense of the word.  To Aaron: Thank you for talking me into it.  To Sarah: Thank you for pushing me into it, and To Debra: Thank you for helping me when I had cancer, and for your always positive attitude!

To all the cancer patients who write me every day:  I know how lonely, discouraging, and frightening cancer is.  Don’t give up, and continue to fight. When you are able, pursue your dreams. It isn’t easy, but it is worth it.  Envision your dreams on your hard days.  Take it one day at a time, and you will get there.  Focus on what you do have- not what this disease takes- and draw your strength from your loved ones and friends who are fighting along with you.

To John:  Thank you for providing your support to me, and to my dream. You’ve been there from the beginning, starting with the first run I ever took. Your advice over the years has helped me become the best runner I can, and your encouragement has assisted me in following my dream- more than you know.

Mile Splits

1-11:24  2-11:10  3-11:38  4-11:03  5-11:31  6-10:58  7-11:30  8-11:41  9-12:18  10-11:19  11-10:56  12-11:07  13- 10:21  .31-2:45

Finishing Time: 2:29

Average Pace: 11:15

marathon

13.1 Miles! I’m an official half marathoner, with my medal! 10/20/13

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Cancer Family & Friends Health losing a parent Mothering Parenting

April 18th- Birthday and Cancer

 

Birthday and cancer may seem like an odd title, but April 18th, would have been my mom’s 63rd birthday.  She passed away 2 years ago, and I can’t help but think about her today. Losing a parent never really goes away.  There are always reminders, birthdays, holidays, and family events that tend to make you stop and remember.  Fortunately, I have a lot of happy memories of her, and that is what I like to remember about her.

I actually skipped the cemetery visit today. I’ve always gone on her birthday, and death anniversary. But this year, I don’t feel the need.  I know she is in a better place, and even though her remains are buried, I don’t think her spirit is in the cemetery. Her spirit is in the memories my siblings and I have of her, and in our children.  People often tell me what great kids I have, and credit that to my mom.  She was a good mom, and I model a lot of my parenting after my mom.  When I’m facing parenting issues I have no idea on how to handle, I think back to what she did, and 9 times out of 10 it works with my kids.

So today, in her honor, I’m going to spend some extra time with Ryan and Cole, and tell them a story about when I was a little girl with my mom. I have the picture books she put together, and I’m going to find the book with my first trip to Disneyland, when I was 6, and show those pictures to the boys, and tell them what I remember about it and my mom.  I think that will do more to honor her spirit and teach my boys about their Nana, then going to the cemetery.

April 18, 2009 was the day I received the phone call from my doctor that changed my life- forever.  I was told I had thyroid cancer. That day seemed so long ago, and yet, it seems like it was yesterday. I remember wondering what was going to happen to my boys. I remember my family and friends telling me I was going to beat this, and be okay.  I remember being the most scared I ever was.  I remember crying for hours and then stopping.  Getting dressed and going out with my family and friends.  Being normal, in an abnormal situation.   Knowing I had to for my kids.  Nothing else mattered. They needed their mom- every child does. I remember that night resolving no matter what, I was going to fight and do whatever I needed to do, to fight cancer, get healthy, and live so my kids didn’t have to grow up without me.

It isn’t always been easy. I have to do follow up visits every time this year, that stress me out and bring up all the “what if’s,” again. But, three years after a cancer diagnosis, with the help, support, and love of my kids, family, and friends, what I envisioned as hope, three years ago, is a reality.

I wish I had time to respond to all the emails I get from thyroid cancer patients, but I just don’t anymore.  I am planning to write another post soon, addressing a lot of comments, questions, and issues, I’ve received in emails.  I haven’t written about cancer in a long time, but this date is significant for me.  No one knows what is around the corner, but those of us who have had cancer, happen to know some of what we need to deal with.  My boyfriend, John, pointed out to me this past week, I know what I am dealing with, and can stay on top of it. It actually does make it easier in some respects.

The only way cancer wins out is if it steals your spirit from you. There were days when I was fighting cancer, I didn’t care if I was alive or not. Then I remembered my kids and family.  Let them be your strength.  Let people help you.  Even though it is a battle, thyroid cancer is curable.  Don’t let it take your passion, drive, and optimism away.

One of my favorite things I read when I was fighting cancer was, “Cancer is a word. Not a sentence.” Sometimes it is easy to let it become a sentence, but it doesn’t help you in the long term.  Three years ago, as I was crying on my bed for hours, I would have never imagined I would be in the best health of my life, cancer free, biking, 30+ miles, placing in competitive running races, and thriving, within a few short years.

I want anyone who is fighting cancer, to know life is what you make of it- cancer or no cancer. Don’t let it become your “sentence.” Fight with everything you have to keep it a word.  Fight with all you have, and then some, to beat it.  It is hard at times- most things worthwhile are.  But, three years later I can tell you, from being there and back, it is one of the most important things you will ever do.

My mom passed away before I got my cancer free diagnosis last year.  But she saw me fight it, and continuing to live my life.  One of the last conversations I had with her in the hospice, she held my hand with what little strength she had left, and told me I was fine. She told me to keep running; she could see how strong it was making me.  She said she knew the cancer was gone- she said I was just too strong for it to survive- I was stronger than cancer. She was right.

Happy Birthday, Mom.  I love you.

To all my thyroid cancer fighters and survivors: Keep fighting! Cancer is a word. Not a sentence.

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Cancer Family & Friends Health Running

Reflections in Running

This is the first post I’ve had about running in a while.  I have been running- not just as much as I would like to.

There are a lot of reasons why- from having time with my kids, work schedule, having my house on the market, recovering from injuries, and surgery, managing my health, eliminating stress, the weather, to not enough hours in the day. It is hard when there is that thing you really like to do, but it seems like everything else has to come before it.

This is where I have been for several months.  I have felt fortunate if I could fit a short run in, over my lunch time, a few times a week. The past few weeks, I have really started to notice I have been missing the longer runs, and pushing myself.  I feel like I haven’t been doing any runs that are challenging- like I’ve hit a plateau.

A few weekends ago, I decided I was going to get back on track, and while camping with my family, I decided to go on a run.  This was at 8,900 feet. It was the middle of the afternoon and it was hot.  I didn’t know how far I would even be able to run, since I’ve not been able to keep up my distance runs.  I decided to just go- and see where I ended up.

I ran along the forest road, and there was a creek I followed for a while.  There were hills.  There was an occasional car that would drive by, but other than that, I only heard my breathing, the sound of my shoes hitting the rocks, and the water from the creek.

Every time I finished one hill, there would be another.  It wasn’t quite the trail I had been hoping for, but I pushed on.  The first mile seemed to take forever.  When I had finished it, 11 minutes had passed.  Considering how many hills there were, I didn’t think that was too bad.  I decided to see if I could run another mile.  The trail flattened out, or at least the hills weren’t as steep for most of the second mile.  As I finished the second mile, I was getting tired, but wanted to go another half mile, so at the end I would have ran 5 miles.

As I turned the bend, with a third of a mile to go, there was the steepest hill yet!  It struck me how much running and life go hand in hand out there, on the hot, isolated trail.  Just when you think you are done with the steep hills, another one can pop up- seemingly out of nowhere, to throw you the most difficult obstacle yet.  I knew if I had seen that hill before I decided to continue, I would have turned back. I considered turning back, but that spark and determination I find so often when I run, kicked in.

I started up the hill, and half way up, it didn’t seem that hard.  Another life lesson- sometimes things seem harder than they really are, until you just start to work on them.  Before I knew it, I was running down the hill, and had hit my 2.5 mile mark.  I turned around, and ran right back up the hill, which my Garmin told me was a 13% incline.  The hill didn’t seem as hard, and I was rewarded with a lot downhill time on the run back.

I was in mile four, when I caught up with the creek again. It sounded louder- almost like it was cheering.  Or it was me hearing that, because I was really cheering myself on.

I hadn’t run this far or at this level in almost a year, but yet I was out on one of the hardest runs I’ve ever done, and I was minutes away from finishing.   As I finished the run, I was reminded why I had missed longer runs so much.

Running mirrors life.  There are ups, downs, successes, failures, pain, elation, unexpected twists, turns, hills, and obstacles.  As you run and mange these, you gain a new perspective. With every hill you run up, and then run down, you are reminded of what lies within- strength, determination, hope, and accomplishment.

I wasn’t focusing on the time, but I was hoping with all things considered, I would finish in an hour.  I finished the run in 55 minutes.  My last mile was the fastest one- at 10:24.

I went and sat in the cold creek with my kids, who had been playing in the water with their grandpa and cousin.   As I watched them play, and felt the cold water rush over my legs, I felt another feeling I often gain with running- peace.

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I’ve signed up for my first race in almost a year on Labor Day. It is 5 miles.  While I have run a 9K race before, (5.5 miles), the 5 mile distance will be a bit more challenging for me this time since I haven’t had a lot of training time to build up my mileage.  Before the mountain trail run, my goal was to finish in 50 minutes or so.  I am pretty confident I can finish around this time, and I do like to race, to see how fast I can run.

I am happy to be back racing, and am going to focus more on the run itself- the sights, the sounds, my breathing, and the fact that after all of it- I’m strong, healthy, and still running.

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Cancer Cole Family & Friends Health Ryan

Surgery to Prevent Cancer

I had a laser surgery yesterday to remove the precancerous cell growth I had.  I’m very happy to be able to type this today- the surgery went great.  It was much better than I had been expecting.  The nurses, and doctors were so organized and on top of it all.  I am feeling groggy and dizzy from the anesthesia, but the pain is not nearly as bad as I had thought it might be.

The hardest moment for me was when I was in the pre-op bed, with the IV in waiting for the surgery to start. In the hospital bed like that, I felt sick.  I missed Ryan and Cole so much.  A lot of memories of surgery and cancer came back to me.  I knew this wasn’t cancer, but those “what-ifs” seem to have a way of creeping in.  I was going to be unconscious during the surgery, and that made me nervous.  I also saw my chart binder with my last name, and it reminded me of seeing that binder when I was in the hospital with my mom before she passed away.  I missed her a lot yesterday.

But my family and friends had called and texted me before the surgery, and I knew they were thinking of me.  I was able to mentally make the shift that I was not sick, this was a preventative surgery, and it would be better I was asleep during the surgery.

A day after, I hope this was the last surgery I will ever have to have.  As I wrote in my last post, I have made a few changes in my life, to work on keeping my stress down.  It takes a conscious effort, but I definitely do not want to get any more cancers, or abnormal cells that could develop into cancer.

I have received a lot of email from thyroid cancer patients and survivors.  It seems like we all have our struggles.  One person I know is still having dosage problems for Synthroid two years after the fact.  Another person  still doesn’t feel back to normal after two years as well, and is nervous about developing more cancers.

Yesterday all the nurses and doctors who looked at my chart told me I was a very healthy person.  I was a little surprised to hear them all say that.  When I asked them even though I had thyroid cancer, they said yes- from a medical perspective, thyroid cancer is treatable and curable, and they look at the overall health picture.

I wanted to write and share this, because it is too easy once you’ve had cancer, to stop viewing yourself as healthy. I like what the medical staff had said, it’s an overall health picture. One cancer, or two- a few surgeries, doesn’t make you an unhealthy person.  I am going to make that mind shift and keep all of it perspective.

Thank you to John, who took excellent care of me after the surgery last night,  my friends and family for your well wishes, and for checking in with me today.  I’m also very grateful to Ryan and Cole’s father’s family who are helping out with their care this week, so I can recover.

As I’ve written so many times, cancer does change you, and there are good parts to it and not so good parts to it.  But, the main thing is to keep on top of it, and trust your body.  It will be a fight for probably the rest of our lives, but as all cancer patients and survivors know- it is well worth it.

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Cancer Family & Friends Health

Health & Stress

June 12th marked two years since I had my thyroidectomy and neck dissection to treat thyroid cancer.  I was planning to write a special blog post with references and guides for thyroid cancer patients.  When I started researching the condition, it was hard to find credible sources and information, and I thought it would be nice to have a source guide with all the valuable links to the information I have found and used over the past two years.

I still plan to write that, but it will have to wait.  On June 14th, I received the results from a biopsy.  It showed a moderate abnormal growth of cells, which I was told if left untreated, develops into cancer.  The condition is rare- my doctor said less than 1% of women ever develop this, and he didn’t even have that much information he could share with me, since his practice rarely has a patient with this. He said they don’t know what causes it, but a weakened immune system is suspected. 

It felt like déjà vu, and it was upsetting.  There wasn’t a lot of information on the Internet. But what I was able to find, was pretty much the same information my doctor had told me.  As I talked to my family and friends, the reality of what I need to do, became clear.

I had a few hours where I realized and accepted, like it or not, my immune system is weakened because of my prior cancer.  When I was recovering two years ago, I was really careful with not over doing it, resting, eliminating unnecessary stresses, and not “sweating the small stuff.”  I realized I’ve not been doing a great job of that lately.  As I discovered, when I don’t do these things, my health suffers. 

I decided to ask my doctor if he knew of any other doctors who specialize in this condition, and who were familiar with the more advanced treatment options.  He was able to refer me to specialist and I have an appointment with her next week.

After doing more research I believe I will be fine.  I think this was caught early enough and it is treatable.  I can liken it to when you find a suspicious mole and they tell you it needs to be removed because it could develop into melanoma if it is left untreated.  

Receiving news like this again- puts it in perspective.  There are very few things in life that are so important, it is worth the stress.  At times, the little things seem big.  Some of these things I can control, some of them I can’t.  It is hard to admit I can’t do it all. But trying to, and neglecting my health, isn’t an option for me anymore.    

The past few weeks, I’ve reevaluated ways I can cut down on my stress levels, and started working on building up my immune system. I don’t have the specialist’s diagnosis yet, but I feel like I have already started to fight this with these changes.      

I think health conditions can be a manifestation of stress.  One of the best books I’ve ever read on this topic is When the Body Says No, by Gabor Mate.  When things in your life aren’t working; your body gives you clues. What we chose to do with the clues-what we choose to change, can make all the difference.