Feel like Dancing!

Dear Friends,

Since it’s Friday, I thought this song would be good to share. It’s one of my all-time favorites. And I wish I felt like dancing, but the truth is…my body and head haven’t been feeling the best lately. My energy has been low and my brain has been foggy. Anything that requires full concentration hasn’t been at the top of my list like working on my children’s book with my nephew, reading, writing book reviews that are long overdue, writing anything, and reading blogs. So, I am very sorry for missing your wonderful blog posts, but I just haven’t been myself. It’s all I can do to write this to update you. And it’s not for sympathy. I just want you to know why I haven’t been around that much. I hope that my energy will return a little more over the weekend because there is so much I want to do! Sigh. Anyway, I leave you with this song, so Dance and enjoy today and your weekend to come. I’m turning off comments, but just know I appreciate you! ❤️

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© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

A collection of poems about nature, love, and the mysteries of life.
Click on the image to purchase your copyThank you! 💚

July 5 – Journal Entry

Dear Family and Friends,

What I’m posting today is not something I normally share. Maybe some will think this isn’t a good idea. There is no poem or fiction story. I’m sharing something personal but definitely not for sympathy. More for a cathartic purpose, a release, and maybe, hopefully, one of you will be able to shed some light for me. This is kind of long, so I understand if you don’t have time to read. But if you do, and you have knowledge of what I’m talking about, I’d be grateful to read your comments. By the way, I may regret posting this, so it could end up deleted.

Dear Journal,

They say that writing is therapeutic, so here goes…

Over two months ago, I started experiencing a lightning bolt jolt of pain through my right heel. The pain came in spurts, any time, any level of pain, and any frequency. They’d last only for seconds. Some jolts were mild, some were moderate, but one Thursday, the jolts began with my morning coffee around 5:30 am and continued throughout the day until around 1:30 pm when they finally mellowed. They came in series of 7 or 8 jolts every twenty minutes or so, Boom! Boom! Boom! One after the other with the intensity I have never felt before until this day. The jolts were debilitating. I stayed home from work, and admittedly, I was in tears and my nerves were on edge. I tried to stay calm, but calm was difficult to attain. I began to anticipate the jolts, which paralyzed me from doing anything, reading, writing, even blogging. The degree of this level of heel pain was new, so I emailed my doctor, and she ordered x-rays.

I had to get these x-rays done on this day when the jolts were at their strongest degree of pain, which honestly, felt like an 11! But I was afraid to drive because with this pain being in my right foot, my accelerating and braking foot, I feared a strong jolt would occur while driving, causing me to have a knee-jerk reaction, and who knows what would happen. So, my husband took me to get x-rays. The next day, my doctor said that the results indicated a heel bursa. I didn’t think so. Years ago, I had an irritated bursa in my hip, which went away over time, and this felt more ‘nervy.’ And her assumption didn’t even match the medical results I read on my medical online account that I couldn’t quite decode. She referred me to a podiatry specialist.

My podiatrist said that it wasn’t a bursa, and after tapping my heel and listening to my symptoms, here’s what he said, “I really don’t know what this is.” It’s not Planter Fasciitis or Neuropathy. I was praying for a diagnosis, cause, and treatment, so these words were beyond disheartening. By this time, I had been wearing Hoka tennis shoes and heel cups (never heard of them before) for a few weeks, creating more support for my foot. He said to continue wearing them, rest, and ice, but he was going to refer me to neurology to have my nerves tested. When he described the process for that, I almost passed out. By the way, am I the first person to tell him about this kind of heel pain? I find that hard to believe. How could he not have any idea?

Then after hearing my case, neurology told him that it wasn’t necessary for me to have a consultation with them. My podiatrist labeled my condition as Baxters Neuritis and prescribed Gabapentin to mitigate the pain and to be taken each night, low dosage. A tiny part of me thinks he’s reaching for a label to appease me because when I Googled Baxters Neuritis (of course, I did), the symptoms didn’t align with mine. Maybe cases vary, I don’t know.

So, fast forward three weeks, and I’ve been living in Hokas (now have 3 pair: white, black, and bright blue), except for sleeping and showering. Luckily, I’ve had several pain-free or I should say, jolt-free days, and 1 jolt on other days. None at night, so I’ve been able to sleep. Because the intense pain never visited again, I have not taken the meds. I’ll take them if I need them. The lessening pain has me feeling hopeful.

With all this said, I know most of us deal with some kind of pain. Pain that will fade over time, heal with Motrin or other meds. Some people are handed a life and death diagnosis. This is not life or death. But because it’s nerve related, it may be chronic, and because it’s in my foot, it impacts my ability to walk Copper, our lab, to walk for exercise, and simply to walk from the front door to my car, or at work, or from my car to the grocery store, let alone through the store.

This random, bizarre, unpredictable pain impacts my life with my husband, our love for hiking and backpacking. We have a trip planned in August, in six weeks. If you asked me today if I could do it, I’d say no, because I’m limiting time on my feet to hopefully rest the nerve, and dare I say, heal? I can’t even walk around the block, and I don’t know if this will ever heal. And this thought breaks my heart because I feel like I’m breaking my husband’s heart. Now in our early sixties, we want to hike and backpack for as long as we can. And if we had to stop now, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. We could still camp. I can function – the bright side. And of course, he doesn’t see it as me breaking his heart. He feels helpless when I’m in pain, and since my tolerance is pretty high, he knows when I’m truly hurting. Of course, he’d be disappointed if we couldn’t hike or backpack again, but he cares about me first and foremost. Just so you know. But I look at the big picture and feel like a burden. I really do. I’m aware of my foot every day, sounds funny, doesn’t it? But really, I’m babying it, handling that nerve with kid gloves.

Yesterday, July 4th, was an anomaly. I had three series of jolts throughout the day. I analyzed and asked, “Why?” I’m wearing good shoes, walking less, icing, resting…but I am living, so I am walking, just not as much. I’m not sitting on my butt. I’m still working, and I’ve walked Copper, but the walks have been truncated. Fortunately, he’s older now, so he’s just happy to get out and sniff and pee. But just when I was feeling hopeful, I felt like I took five steps backward yesterday.

Anyway, I’ve tried to keep a positive mindset. On the pain-free days, I am grateful. And when just one jolt comes and it’s mild, I am grateful. But it’s not only the intense pain that is paralyzing, it’s the “Why?” when I’ve been doing everything I should be doing. And then, it’s the anticipating for another jolt to follow, until I do some deep breathing and move on with whatever I’m doing at the time.

Miracles happen, right? Well, I’m also realistic. And this isn’t life and death, but even though it’s not, it’s impactful to me, to my husband, to my dog, and to my future. Our feet are necessary for everyday tasks. If it sounds like I’m whining, please forgive me. Please understand whining about poor me is not my intention. Writing about this is therapy. I’m not one to complain, and I’m compassionate for those in worse, worse, situations. But this is my new pain, my new change, and that shouldn’t be negated either. I continue to take one day at a time, pray for a pain-free day, and deep breathe when necessary, and hope for a miracle. But if that miracle isn’t meant to be, then I’ll have to modify my activities. My husband and I will have to make changes. I just bought an exercise bike (cheaper than a pool because swimming is good exercise), so hubby and I will set that up this week. An option. Moving forward. The only option is to move forward.

Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for reading if you had the time. This is raw writing, no editing, so if you see mistakes, please forgive those, too.
With love, Lauren ❤️

© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.

His name was Ed

Ed
blackened heart
domineering thumb
nowhere to breathe, trying times
~ etched ~

Green
a monster
too old to believe?
his existence, living proof
~ ire ~

Me
raised to love
but heart feels deeply
ill-fitted antipathy
~ blunt ~

Health
declines, death,
emotions bland as
salt-free diet, tears restrained
~ guilt ~

Lauren Scott ©
Oddquain poetry form

This post is darker than most of mine, but life isn’t always rosy, so writing about those difficult times when we question our feelings can be therapeutic. Have you found yourself in a similar situation?

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For inspiration to notice surrounding beauty, to feel gratitude, to face challenges and fears while sipping your favorite coffee roast or another beverage of your choice, check out my latest book: More than Coffee.

Fingers across the keyboard

Dear Friends,

This is a follow-up to my last post on Sept. 19th, and I’m typing as thoughts pour out, so this is more raw than edited. As you may remember, I’ve had a medical issue that landed me in the hospital over a month ago, and I’ve been anticipating a procedure that hopefully would’ve brought answers. Well, the procedure was last Thursday, an ERCP. It’s where a tube passes through the mouth, esophagus, and stomach into the first part of the small intestine. Then a catheter goes into the bile duct to detect causes for high liver enzymes (all non-alcoholic related), severe abdominal pain and jaundice. The doctor injects a dye so that x-rays can be taken of the biliary ducts. I’ve provided an image below if you’re interested. 

Image result for bile duct and liver anatomy

Surprisingly, the doctor (a bile duct expert) couldn’t get the instrument all the way down, in fact, barely down at all because my common bile duct is so scarred. I’ll spare the gory details, but long story short, it was incomplete. This means I have to repeat it next month. Honestly, when he spoke to my husband and I after I had been in recovery and I found this out, I felt depressed. I felt my shoulders drop, knowing, first of all, that I still have no answers, secondly, he still can’t rule out some scary diseases (one of which my daughter has), and thirdly, I have to do this procedure again. 

Everyone was so nice, though, and I’m grateful for an awesome team of doctors – doctors who we know because of our daughter’s experiences. And my doctor was genuinely disappointed with the turnout. But he’s also performed enough of these that he knew when to stop trying before causing complications. I thank him for that.

So, the symptoms I’ve had can be caused by gallstones in the bile duct (gallbladder is out), Primary Schlerosing Cholangitis (PSC, the auto immune disease my daughter has), or Bile Duct Cancer. I admit to being scared and have had some emotional moments. I hope it’s just stones, which are dangerous alone. Any of these causes affect the liver because if bile isn’t taken from the liver through the bile duct into the small intestine, the liver then becomes “sick” and begins to fail. Liver failure is fatal. For PSC, the only cure is a liver transplant, which is what we’re anticipating for our daughter in the future – a future that holds so many uncertainties. 

So why I am blogging about this? I don’t know. Maybe part is to bring awareness to the bile duct and how rare some medical issues can be involving it. Until our daughter was diagnosed, I didn’t give the bile duct a second thought. Nor my liver because I’ve never been a big drinker. This whole thing has been surreal – the fact that I’m experiencing everything similar to my daughter’s symptoms. She doesn’t drink alcohol at all, so it’s just an auto-immune disease that chose her. Ask anyone who knows me..I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking. So, it’s all a case of being unlucky just like those who are diagnosed with cancer or some other horrible disease.

The upside to sharing what I’ve been undergoing is that in spite of the continued anticipation, the unpleasantries of another ERCP, or fear of the unknown and known, for that matter, life goes on. I feel better physically, although my throat still hurts, but it’s better than yesterday and the day before that. My mindset is healthier, and that doesn’t mean I’m not realistic either. The outcome will be good news or it will be daunting news. Regardless, I want answers. I want to know what’s going on inside me. However, I’m not trying to burden you by posting about this. Maybe what I’m going through will resonate with someone and be of some help even in a small way.

Selfishly, though, I ask for your ongoing positive thoughts and prayers. And I thank you for reading this longer-than-planned post. 🙂

Image result for moving forward

Moving forward with hope in my heart and love for my family and friends who have provided tremendous support. Lauren xoxo
p.s. The title of this post is credited to my son.
p.s.s. Both images are from Google.

Candor

There are words
eager to be said
but they are stuck
in spaces
of uncertainty

I long for them
to roll out
with confidence
on their tail

but not this time

Actions
are
sometimes
frail

Perhaps the moment
will come
when honesty
will be yours
to hear 

and the look in
your eyes
will allow
me to breathe
again

Lauren Scott © 2015

All I Can Say

Don’t create another victim,
(I hear)
Oh, but it’s hard, you see,
She’s a part of me and
her pain holds me
firmly, too,
the roles are reversed,

I should be in her place
but I’m trying my best
and that’s all I can do

Lauren Scott © 2014

(No deep writing, just emotions from my heart)