Walking a Tightrope: Balancing Mental and Physical Health – Part 3

I needed to go to Costco before we left Regina to get all my supplies for Christmas, it was going to be a huge Costco run!  It didn’t end up being very huge though because my stomach had other plans.  Thankfully for me one of the things I managed to get in the cart before my Christmas supper was about to be on the floor was garbage bags.  Kevin pulled out a garbage bag and it started.  When I have Ischemic Colitis attacks, my digestion at some point stops working, everything backs up.  Undigested food stays in my stomach and it’s as if my colon has a stop sign which indicates construction ahead and nothing is allowed to pass.  There is a spot in my colon where the blood flow shuts off and it is essentially dying from not getting any blood.  On pictures from a colonoscopy that were taken one time when I was in the middle of one, showed that a healthy colon would look reddish while mine was completely covered in white patches where the tissues were dying.  My bodies response to free the blood flow to try to generate it again is to remove all things to digest up and down. 

We were driving home in another terrible snowstorm.  The visibility was terrible, and I was in terrible shape.  I threw up in the garbage bag on and off for the two-hour ride and as we got closer to home there were large snow drifts all over the highway.  Every hit with the vehicle would jolt my body and I would continuously throw up in the garbage bag probably 50 to 60 times.  When I got home, I laid on the floor in the bathroom and continuously throughout the night was on and off the toilet.  Until EVERY last drop of EVERY gastric fluid was OUT of my body.  I cried at times.  I counted minutes at times.  I listened to meditations. I listened to songs.  Minute by minute, minute by minute until finally the next morning the Gravol stayed down for almost 15 minutes, and I prayed and prayed it was over.  It was. 

However, it never ends that easy.  I mean the main event was over but there was still another 4 to 6 weeks coming of digestive issues as my colon would try to repair itself and shed all the dead patches.  If you are wondering about going to the hospital, there is basically nothing they can do but give you IV fluids if needed.  So, I just make my liquid IV drinks, eat Jello for a week and wait it out. 

Christmas was coming in a couple of weeks, it was time to get up, get moving and get ready! Kevin had decided to put an extra of his 200 hours of free time over the next 6 weeks to renting a bulldozer.  Yep, that’s right, right through the Christmas we were hosting for his family.  He also needed to vaccinate (ivermectin) the cows on Boxing Day because that is what worked for his workers, who happened to be all around, because yes in fact it was Christmas, and they were at our house to enjoy themselves.  If you feel sarcasm while I write this, be sure to know that this should be screaming sarcasm.  Add to this that we were out of water, we haul water with the grain truck from 10kms away and the grain truck brakes were broken.  Add to this a diarrhea bug that was attacking person to person, and you understand the need for water. Well at any time you need water but particularly, when you are flushing the toilet multiple times, washing clothes and showering bodies.  Thankfully Kevin’s family all pitch in but I was not only falling off the tight rope, I was laying on the floor underneath the tight rope, covered in broken cement, and if you equate this to mental bruising, I was covered in cuts, scars, bruises and broken bones.

There are a lot of learning lessons that happened in December. I repeatedly called out to the Universe asking when our lessons are over, but I just get a rhetorical echo that sounds like NEVER. I honestly don’t even know where I am going with telling all of this story besides that living on a tight rope walking with a balancing stick, really sucks sometimes.  Some days I wish I had my psychiatrist, my counsellor, my gastroenterologist, my menopause specialist, my liver specialist, my gynecologist, my massage therapist, a homeopathic specialist, and the Walmart greeter all in a room together to figure out a wellness plan for me. 

Every drug has a side effect that throws off the balance, every slip up I make, every stress that I internalize.  I HATE being the tight rope walker.  I want to quit and apply for the job as the CLOWN. 

Dear Universe, could I please be the Clown?

Thanks,

Love and Laughter,

Michelle