Dear Aspergillosis: Happy 2 Year Anniversary!

Here, I got you this cake I can't eat- that's love.

Dear Aspergillosis,

Happy Anniversary! Yesterday marked two years since I became yours. You'd already conquered my heart by then, after only being in my life for a few months. I've heard it said that sometimes your lifelong relationships are the ones that catch you by surprise, when you least expect it. And surprise me, you did! I never fathomed you, never dreamed you would come in and change my life forever, never knew what life could be like with you at the forefront.

You, with your challenges and stubbornness rivaling my own. You, with your humbling ways and air of mystery. You, with your beauty and grace. I wasn't expecting you.

Has it really only been two years? It feels like a hundred, sometimes! We've been through so much, you and I. I would've written you yesterday, but as you like to do, you had me in bed early, as you had other plans for me. You are always full of surprises!

The person I was before we crossed paths would have hated you. In fact, when I first learned your name, I did. Then you grew on me. I didn't have much choice, actually. You knocked me off my feet.

You aren't easy to live with, Aspergillosis, but you've been worth it.

It has been quite the storm we've weathered, so far, and I want to thank you for the things you have brought to my life. You showed me where there were leaks in my boat and now that I've patched them, nothing life throws my way can sink me. You taught me to surround myself with people who are umbrellas shielding me from the rain, and to avoid people who are buckets looking to dump themselves onto me. You remind me that life is cyclical, and that tides come and go, as do hardships and joys, and to always keep an eye on the horizon because you never know what might sail your way.

You have given me my money's worth of this life. You have expensive taste and sometimes I think you will take me for all I am worth, but then you pay me back in experience and wisdom, in courage and strength, and in love and light. You have made me rich in gratitude, joy, and awe, things money can't buy. When the grass looks greener in other's pastures, you take my straw and spin it into gold. You encourage me to seek out diamonds in the rough and your storms polish my shattered pieces until they shine. You have been worth every penny and the life I now have is priceless.

I love you and the life we have created together. I really don't think I could have done it without you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and you have made me a better a person. Thank you for coming in and changing my life.

Love,
Bren

"I feel a very unusual sensation - if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude." -Benjamin Disraeli

*May 23, 2010 is the day I was diagnosed with Aspergillosis

Ch, ch, ch, chaaanges

Rewind to about two years ago:
"Here have some of this (insert food item here)."
"I'm not allowed to eat that."
"Why?"

And so, this blog began...

We're rounding the corner on two year of blogging. Whooo, party! Given how much has changed during that time, and as a sort of celebration, I'm changing things up a bit around here.

First of all, this blog started out as a way to cope with my diet. It was meant to fend off being asked the same questions repeatedly; to cope with my new way of eating; to experiment with new foods; and to provide some levity to a very serious situation.

Then, it also became a place for updating people on my health. Again, it was a source of answering the barrage of questions in one place; a way to cope; to talk about experimental treatments; and for some escapism from the difficulties I faced.

Along the way if became a place of refuge; of hope; and of connecting with people who know me, or know similar situations, or who simply found a common bond.

I have used this space to rant, ask for help, rejoice, and laugh. I've grown and changed along the way, and now it's time for the blog to morph a little, too.


What's changing:

The name "Food Withdrawl"- While I'm always going to be experimenting with, and seeking out new foods and recipes, I'm not in withdrawal anymore. Also, not ONE person ever got the pun in the name, or even noticed that it was either a play on words or misspelled- which has bugged the crud out of me!

In his autobiography, pacifist and philosopher, Bertrand Russell stated, "This has been my life. I have found it worth living."

I chose to rename this blog after that quote. Despite everything that has happened thus far, and all the horrible things that I have been through: the pain, and surgeries, and organ failure, and struggle; the goodness, hope, love, and beauty I have experienced have far outweighed it. This has been my life. It wasn't what I would have chosen, but it has gotten me to where I am, and it has made me who I am. And I think it's been worth it.

The layout- I got tired of those vegetables. Really, can you blame me? If I never see another vegetable for as long as I live...

What's staying the same:

The recipes (hopefully I will post more of them), the pictures of what I'm eating, the updates on my health (hopefully less of them- no news is good news, yeah?), the quips and sarcasm, the refuge, the connections, the hope ("You gotta give em hope!" -Harvey Milk)...


So here's to another leg of this journey that started with a single step back in June 2010. Since that time, as of right now, this blog has been viewed 8,818 times. While a seemingly small number in the grand scheme of things, and blogs, I'm very thankful that people have cared enough about what I'm writing (other than my Mama, who probably accounts for about 1,000 of those views) to visit this page so many times. I really love when you comment, too- it makes my day, every single time. Thanks for being a part of the journey. It's been more than worth it.

Brand new ending

It has been a whole two years since I embarked on this journey and my entire world was turned inside-out and upside down.

Two years ago, I was fighting a raging yeast infection on my face and in every nook and cranny. Everything I ate came back out with a vengeance. I was five months sober and all the things I'd tried to drown with alcohol were floating to the surface. I was living off ice cream, pie, donuts, and candy bars because I had no idea what they were doing to my body and they were my way of dealing. I was in a relationship I wasn't prepared to handle. I was a mess in every sense of the word.

Mmm, birthday cupcakes at a Czech bakery in Texas.

A year ago, I was struggling through each day, gasping for air and cursing every breath. I was living on raw vegetables and measuring out every single thing I ate. I was taking about 50 pills a day, getting intramuscular steroid injections (Chernobyl via syringe) in my thighs, having my blood filtered, and sitting for hours long IV drips. My foot felt like it was filled with killer bees and stuck in a bucket full of cement. My everything hurt, All. The. Time. My steroid induced mood swings and memory loss led me to isolate myself to avoid embarrassment. There were days I felt more dead than alive.

I tried to live fully, but when you feel like shit all the time, it's hard not to long for greener pastures.

*Today my world was rocked, literally, by an earthquake that originated under my neighborhood (just a block from my house!), and also figuratively, by the arrival of my niece! Birthquake!*

These days, I'm in such a better place than I was last year or the year before. I have a better handle on my food and don't have to monitor it as closely. I'm allowed to eat more things than I used to. I don't have to test my own blood sugar, and I don't get thigh shots or IV meds anymore. I only take 3 pills a day! I rarely have my blood filtered and my kidneys aren't in meltdown phase anymore. I made it through the winter without a single respiratory infection. My foot, while still an asshole, is getting its act together. Aside from being sore from PT and yoga, my body doesn't scream at me like it used to. I'm wildly and utterly happy. Who is this girl?!

I can even enjoy meat! (From 4505 Meats, of course)

So six months ago, I began a clinical trial for an experimental drug. The end of that period is on the horizon. (March 16th) Tomorrow I meet with my doctors to find out what tests I will undergo over the course of the next week or so.

The results of those tests will determine a few things, such as what comes next in the game plan, if I can add more food, and ultimately who is winning: me or Aspergillosis.

To up the ante, my best friend informed me this morning that if I'm cleared on tattoos, we're getting some for my birthday. I haven't been allowed to get tattoos while I was sick since the risk of infection was too high, but I've been wanting one the entire time. If things are going as well inside my body as they seem to me, I should be able to get one. The pressure's on!

"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." Carl Bard

Here's to whatever the next chapter may be and to the ending that is being constantly rewritten, may it be a good one.

Marching right along: 2 years later...

It's March, already? How did that happen?!

This weekend marks two whole years since that fateful skiing incident that kicked off this whole show. I'm reminiscing about the whole mess of stuff that has happened since then that brought me to where I am today. Sometimes, it feels like no time at all. Two years isn't really that long, in the grand scheme of everything. Other times, it feels like for-ev-er. Wendy Peppercorn, where you at?! Has is really only been two years? Because it feels like fifty. I think I've lived more in these past two years, than in the previous twenty four combined.

Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we?


Here's my lift ticket from that day.


Ordinarily, first-timers aren't allowed on the lifts. However, after impressing my instructor with my hubris and mad skiing skills; and having mastered, in a few hours, all the goals of the day lesson, they bumped be up to the next lesson level. By lunch, I'd mastered all the goals of the second tier, as well. It was decided that I was a natural and got approval to ride the lift. This is when karma came in and put me in my place.


If you know me, or have read my posts, you already know I'm a stubborn asshole, who loves a challenge. You also know that I throw myself headfirst into pretty much everything I do. You also probably know that throwing yourself headfirst into skiing, might not end well.

You're also probably thinking that's what I did and that this is a classic case of flying too close to the sun.

I wish I could say that. I wish I could say I tackled that mountain with such fury that I went out in a blaze of glory and smashed my face in the process. Instead, I leaned too far getting off the lift and face planted, my skis locked behind me, and I rode down the hill on my face. I was relegated back to the bunny slope after that.

Here's my raw nose before it scabbed over.


It doesn't look that bad right? It's like a sunburn, or a skinned knee, just on my face, right? That's what I thought, at the time. It didn't seem like that big of a deal.

I wish the story was more glamorous or colorful, but this isn't Hollywood, nor am I the one writing the story. I'm just turning the pages.

This weekend, ironically, the family I live with is going skiing. There's a part of me that wants to go, to show skiing who's boss. Instead, I'll be at home, in my warm bed, thankful that my nose isn't raw like this anymore.

I'm keeping my wings from melting, this time.