This is What It's Come to...

I’m not ready to go into some of the history needed to really build the framework for this story, but, in short, for about 8 months now I have been trying to tackle some problems I’ve been having for several years that seem to have multiple causes. Some things I know, and some things have been ruled out. I have a stubborn case of hypothyroidism that was diagnosed this past December, for instance, and I suspect it has been a problem for a lot longer that I realize and just got tangled up in pregnancies, breast feeding, and sleep deprivation; something I’ve now learned firsthand is that your thyroid affects EVERYTHING. I had no idea how awful it can be before it became a problem for me. Something else I’ve learned is that I am nowhere near menopause, so I cannot blame any “changes”. I have a tendency to have low levels of iron and vit D and am on supplements for those, but all of my other numbers look good. I have arthritis in my lower spine, and I have unexplained back pain in the lower half that causes me to get up and down slowly and to avoid picking up things from the floor as often as possible, evidenced by my bathroom and closet floors and the floor on my side of the bed. If you need any further evidence of this, just call my husband, and he will be happy to confirm. I get terrible abdominal spasms when I sit up or turn a certain way that feel like a charlie horse in my stomach, and this is something that, surprisingly, surgery for an umbilical hernia did not correct.

For the first time in my life, snoring has become a norm for me, anxiety is also a thing, and so has mustering any energy whatsoever for anything that isn’t on the absolutely necessary list. There’s more to it than all of this… much more. But for now, I’ll just leave it at this: I have been on the most significant personal mission I have ever been on - meaning that I am, for the first time in my life, focused on seeking out the root causes of my problems and addressing them by any means necessary. This has meant that I spend a lot of time in the evenings and mornings before work and during any lunches I take alone researching an endless number of topics. It means I email my doctors all the time asking, “What about…?” and “Am I right…?” “Can we…?” and “What have you…?” I have sat with my general doctor, with my obgyn, with a neurologist, with my chiropractor, and with a kinesiologist, and I have ugly cried in front of all of them trying to talk through things that I’m experiencing and things I’ve learned, things I’m uncertain about, and asking for things they think we can check, etc.  

Wherever I can tackle problems naturally, I do. For my thyroid condition, I am taking a prescription, the dosage for which continues to be increased while I wait - and hope - for improved results. I use essential oils, and I continue my life-long interest in learning as much as I can about the mind-body connection and the stomach-brain connection.  We are very food conscious at our house, and, while we do eat out and can’t always be sure what is in that food, at our home we keep it on the up and up. We are believers in quality probiotics, whole foods, collagen, grass fed / wild caught, and drinking lots of water. I've also added digestive enzymes to my daily regimen. One of the treatment plans I’m currently following also involves some eastern medicine… clay packs and such. I’m seeing a chiropractor, I’m getting acupuncture and… Additionally, I’m in the midst of a parasite cleanse. If I wasn’t already a fairly humble person, this process would no doubt have made me get over myself pretty quickly.  You can only be so cool and glamorous when you’re constantly swallowing some tincture or caplets and paying close attention to the clock and to the locations of restrooms every where you go. 

Here’s the thing…

I have this huge, full life. There are 6 people in my home, 7 cats (one geriatric and on medicine twice per day and a special diet), a dog (who takes allergy medicine twice per day), 6 of originally 7 hermit crabs (RIP Rachel), 2 of us working full time, a house that is never straightened up for more than a few hours at a time, laundry, yard work, 3 vehicles - one of which is on its last leg, one kid who still demands a butt wiping several times per day (for another 1 year, 9 months, and 38 days anyway), four kids who get tummy aches, bug bites, cuts & scrapes, banged noggins, fat lips, can’t sleep, etc etc. 

I work and I take care of everyone else. The one thing I do for myself is I journal. I don’t watch much tv, I listen to books and podcasts while I drive, and so when I’m sitting anywhere… on the toilet, on my back patio at night, in my bed while I can’t sleep, during lunch time when I’m by myself, etc… I am usually typing away in my journal. I’m a pretty good listener to myself, and for someone who spends a great deal of my work day by myself or in meetings with different people every day, journaling is my way of meaningful banter or conversation. I don’t go to the same office every day and converse in the break room or in someone’s cubicle. I don’t get a lot of personal time with friends. I barely see my own husband without kids piled on us. So this is basically my non-G-Rated social life… writing.  It helps me clear my mind and work through stress. 

When I first considered that I may have parasites (how about that segue??), I felt some relief in knowing that I may start feeling better in a couple months time. But then I felt very anxious and worried about fitting in the die-off symptoms with… LIFE (see the above truncated summary). I don’t even have time to do the things I have to find time to do, so how was I going to add this very intense process into it? The answer was simply that I didn’t have a choice. And at the end of it, I knew that I may be able to cross something off of my list that contributes to getting myself back to… well, myself.  

So what goes into a parasite cleanse? Well, you swallow things, some of which taste pretty awful. And you do this several times per day and then you tip toe through life with your stomach rumbling and suspicious gassy feelings - do I or don’t I? The answer is DON’T. Don’t ever. But you will, and then it’ll be your reminder to Never. Trust. Again. If you’re like me, you start using the flashlight app on your phone every time you go to the bathroom, bending over to examine everything more closely.  It becomes almost an obsession. And you think more than once, “Omg what I have become?”

Then you get to the part where you’re ordering the case of enemas from Amazon. You put that up on a shelf in your closet and you think to yourself, “This is what it’s come to.” But don’t get all caught up in that thought yet, because what it’s really come to hasn’t even happened yet. 

It’s not even when… You’re face down & ass up in the only bathroom with a trustworthy lock on it and enough space for you to crouch down in that position in front of the toilet in the first place. You’ve inserted the enema and are awaiting the impending emergency when your 7 year old comes to the door to “talk” and then, hearing you answer near the floor, lies down on the floor outside the bathroom door and asks you to hold his hand under the door. You’re holding his hand and sweating profusely, and then he wants to know why you’re so close to the bottom of the door anyway and all you can say is, “It’s because I’m leaning over. And, um, I’m tall, so… yeah.” You finally convince him that you need a few minutes and he should wait in the living room for you, and then you lie your face back down on the hand towel you brought in to use as a pillow and you feel something hitting your head. You realize a cat is on the other side of the door and is slapping your head. And now he’s pulling your hair with his teeth. You might be thinking “THIS is what it’s come to!” but you’d still be a little premature in uttering this phrase, however tempting. 

It’s not even when the emergency happens and you’re up on the toilet that you can truly say you’ve hit rock bottom. It’s actually on any given day during this cleanse that you use the bathroom right after you’ve eaten, you get up, pull up your pants, flush the toilet, and feel a satisfying fart coming as you walk out of the bathroom and you give in knowing you just finished going to the bathroom and there was nothing left. Oh, but what you didn’t account for was that your body is still making more… and there’s always more when you’re doing a cleanse… and you’ve just shit your pants standing up 2 feet from the toilet with your pants on. And now your 7 year old is standing there again and wants a hug and wants to ask questions about dinner, about frogs, about a character in his favorite tv show, about, you know, just life in general. Oh, and he wants to show you how well he can still do the Floss. And you’re sweating again and trying to look composed and breezy while backing into the stall again; you’re trying to close the door while he is very confused. And you think to yourself, “He has no idea what’s going on here. I mean when in my entire childhood when I was bothering my mom or grandma or aunts while they were going to the bathroom did it ever occur to me that they had just shit their pants? It didn’t. It wouldn’t have. And yet, here we are. So now I’m standing there contemplating whether I should ask any of them if they’d ever crapped their pants as adults or if it’s just me that does this.

And NOW I’m sitting back down, peeling my pants off, taking a deep breath while I grab the box of wet wipes, and I think, “THIS is what it’s come to. This. Right. Here.”

To be continued…


#hypothyroidism #parasitecleanse #workinonmyself

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