All posts by Little M.S. Runner

Forty-something, married with two kids and two dogs. Trying hard to live every day to the fullest with multiple sclerosis, impaired vision, and deafness. Couldn't make it without my Savior, Jesus Christ.

The Start of My Hearing Loss

It was early August, 2013. The first week, in fact. I remember because I had jury duty. A welcome reprieve from my demanding job as Accounting and Collections Manager. I remember sitting at the back of the courtroom, waiting for my name to be called, and there was this subtle ringing in my ears. The sort that you might have after attending a loud concert. I believe it was constant, but I was able to ignore it most of the time. Until I went home and had the added distraction of children arguing. Kids can be so loud sometimes. I snapped at them to be quiet, which was not unusual for me to do. However, Mike must have sensed that something was wrong because he told me I should call the doctor in the morning. I did call, and was able to get into the family doctor the following day. By this time the ringing was becoming more persistent, and now when people were talking to me, their voices sounded strange. It was hard to describe then, and even more so now after all this time. Tinny is the word I think I used. As if people were talking into a tin can. That’s just a guess of course; I have no idea what that would actually sound like. This all left the doctor thoroughly stumped, and so she referred me to an ear, nose, and throat (ENT) specialist.

I called the specialist to schedule an appointment that afternoon but they couldn’t see me for a few days. “A few days” doesn’t seem like much, but it turned out to be an eternity. That phone call was the last call I made as a naturally hearing human. By the time I went to see the specialist, those few days later, I had lost any ability for word recognition. What I could hear at that point, which was diminishing quickly as well, sounded garbled and distorted. Turning up the volume or talking louder did no good.

A friend accompanied me to the visit with the ENT, and it was a good thing she did, because I had no way of knowing what was being said to me. The ENT pulled his hearing aid off his own ear, held it in his hand, pointing to it as he spoke. I tried desperately to read his lips, while also looking at the hearing device as he pointed. It was useless. Even skilled lip readers only understand 30% of what’s being spoken. Don’t let the movies fool you; lip reading is very difficult, and very inefficient.

I went home that day with a borrowed hearing aid – thank goodness not the one the aging ENT had been using – and was instructed to try wearing it for at least an hour a day. It was no use. It did amplify sound, but the sounds were so distorted it was impossible to understand anything. It was just frustrating noise. Hearing aids were not going to help me.

I was soon referred to an ear doctor, an otolaryngologist to be exact. This office specialized in hearing issues, and was not at all surprised by my rapid onset hearing loss. They got right to work at treating it the best they knew how, and that meant steroid shots. In my ears. Now, I can think of worse areas to have needles inserted, but ears are right up there. I had to lie on the exam table, on my side, as still as possible. The medicine was injected into the innermost part of my ear and I had to sit there for a half hour while the medicine dispersed. It was very painful, and I gripped my husband’s hand for the entirety. He never left my side. After the first ear was done, I had to turn over and do it all over again with the other ear. Once that special torture was over, they sent me home with a prescription for oral steroids where I would wait and hope for a miracle.

The miracle I was waiting for did not come.

Journal Entry 9/11/13: “I am nervous and anxious. Every minute of the day. The tinnitus is relentless and loud. The steroids make my legs shaky, and my vision blurred. I worry because I can’t hear what’s going on around me. If I can’t see it happening, I’m unaware. Where are the children? Is the water boiling yet? Did I remember to turn off the garbage disposal? This is difficult for a control freak. I have to let that go.”

I found out later that it was not the steroids affecting my vision…

Reviving the Blog

Hi there! You may have noticed, you may have not, but I haven’t been posting here on the blog. There are many reasons for this, and I won’t go into them here, but let’s just say a lot has happened since March. For my own mental health and well-being I had to hunker down and focus. But I’ve come through most of it and have been itching to write again. I find myself writing blog posts in my head while I’m working around the house, running around the neighborhood, riding in the truck, etc. My brain is such a nag. It’s getting quite annoying.

So here’s my plan: I have lots of stories, some current, some old, and I’m going to aim to write every day, to re-work that writing “muscle” that has atrophied, and then I’ll schedule a story to post at least once a week. That’s the plan anyway. We’ll try it for a little while and see how well it goes. Okay? Okay. Let’s goooo!

Thoughts on Trauma

Trauma. It sounds like an alarmist word. Until you find that it’s exactly the right word to describe what you’ve been through. You didn’t know it at the time, because you were a child and the adults in your life were telling you this was normal. That you had a good life. That you were just overreacting. It was probably just those teenage hormones lying to you about how bad things were. But hormones don’t lie. People do.

And children grow up and start remembering. Often not in clear memories, but in physical responses to situations bearing resemblance to what you went through. That part of your brain remembers, and it’s trying to protect you. Don’t ignore it. Get help. Because while the danger is no longer out there,  it is now within you, internalized and threatening to repeat all the same behaviors that were normalized for you growing up. The rage attacks, the love bombing, the blame shifting, the gaslighting, the confusing and conflicting messages. You’ve got to end the cycle. Work on you. You are the only one you have control over.

All these terms, these are buzzwords. But what they are to me are light bulbs and with them someone finally turned the lights on when I’ve been stumbling around in the dark for years, decades even. The lights are on and now I’m standing in this maze and trying to find my way out. It’s not easy. But I have  cheerleaders, faithful supporters standing to the side shouting directions, whispering life giving encouragement. I’m going to get out of this maze. I must. I am a trauma survivor.

All of that I wrote, previously. But I feel it needs a little more explanation. See I’ve been living in a constant state of anxiety for as long as I can remember. And late last year I discovered that wasn’t normal. The racing heartbeat, the tremors, the cold sweats, the nightmares, the panic attacks. These were symptoms of complex ptsd. I sought help from a trauma therapist back in November and I’ve been seeing her ever since. Twice a week, sometimes three, to work through and properly process the trauma I’ve lived through. My therapist uses a method called EMDR, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, and it’s fascinating. I had stumbled across it while doing my initial research into what I was experiencing and it’s turned out to be exactly what I needed. Because traditional talk therapy is difficult when you have trouble with your memory. I won’t go in to the specifics of it, because you can look it up for yourself, but I will say it has worked it’s magic rather quickly. In four short months I am far less triggered by every day stressors. I’m finding it easier to relax my shoulders. I’m sleeping through the night (most of the time). The nightmares have waned considerably. I’m getting better at responding as opposed to reacting.

So we’ve stopped the bleeding, so to speak, but I still have a lot of healing to do. My mind is still replaying toxic messaging, I’m still doubting my every decision, my self-worth. I’m still desperately seeking validation every where I go. But I am on the mend, I’m getting the help, and that’s what matters most.

This is a big reason why I have not posted here on the blog since January. Other reasons are related to my physical health. Some of it covid related, some of it related to being a pre-menopausal woman. I think I’ve been anemic for some time, who knows how long it’s been building, but it ended with a trip to the ER the day after my birthday and my first ever blood transfusion, hurray! So I’m seeing doctors, I’m taking medications, I’m on the mend. However, this has all wreaked havoc on my energy levels and my ability to run, which *KILLS* my pride and frustrates me to no end, but I’m trying to remember this is just a season and it won’t last forever. I will get back to running, and I’ll update y’all when that happens (which I hope will be soon, since I have races on the calendar calling my name).

Mindy’s Day of Fun

I have the house to myself on a cold but sunny winter Saturday, for 2 hours. So naturally, I’m snuggled on the couch with a cup of coffee and cookies, jamming out to Lauryn Hill, Nas, and Tupac while I prepare our tax returns. I am living The Life, people. (This is not a joke. Preparing tax returns relaxes me. I am THAT nerd.)

I would be out running (or on the treadmill) but my lungs are still recovering from Covid and I am trying to give them more time to heal up. That and I’m super fatigued so it would be a massive struggle anyway. Sometimes your body just screams “Rest!!” and you are better off listening to it. Even when you would rather be out there doing everything.

Yep, Covid. This Omicron variant is spreading like wildfire around these parts, and our family was hit with it earlier this month. The rest of the fam had really mild symptoms but I was pretty wrecked for several days. My doctors had me go in to get a monoclonal infusion to treat it. I was actually starting to feel better by that time, but they wanted me to have it as a precaution because I guess they are seeing a lot of people improve but then get worse again, and because I have MS they didn’t want me taking any chances. I’m still a little fatigued, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary for me. My throat is still a tad scratchy and I’m coughing a little, but I would say I’m almost back to full strength.

Welp. I’m going to get back to my taxes but perhaps later this week I’ll update again with other news and ramblings. Perhaps?! We’ll see…

A New Puppy

Punky, our new golden retriever puppy.

Meet Punky. She’s a 9 week old golden retriever. We adopted her last Friday and she very quickly stole our hearts. It took us several days to agree on a name. Dad wanted Biggie. Daughter wanted Bailey, so we called her that for awhile, until we learned how common that name already was. I wanted Stevie (Fleetwood Mac, Schitt’s Creek) but noone seemed to like that one. We remembered the golden retriever on the show Punky Brewster, and thought Punky would be a suitable name (Brandon was the name of the dog on the show. Sandy was the actual dog’s name, if you wanna go super nerdy.) It’s taking some practice to get the name right but I’m pretty sure we’re sticking with Punky.

Her big sister, Piper, is not so thrilled about this development. It’s not that she’s intimated by Punky’s energy, because Piper has puppy level energy even at age 7. I think what she dislikes is the invasion of her space. This whole house has her name written all over it, and she does not want to share it. Typical only child syndrome. She will adjust. I’m noticing subtle changes in her daily, so I know she’ll get there. Eventually.

This picture above was taken by Grandma on the third day she was home with us, so she was still super chill and snuggly. It has now been a week and she is still chill and snuggly, but far more energetic and playful. My next post will likely discuss my sudden remembrance of the exhaustion involved with raising new creatures (puppies, babies, kittens, etc.).

I know I’ve not been posting a lot here but I hope to get back to some more regular updates, so stick around. And Happy Holidays!

Coping with pain

Warning: After a new puppy post this might be a real downer. Please bare with me.

I don’t think I talk enough about the pain I experience on a regular basis. Partly because I feel like it’s not so bad, in comparison to other people I know living with chronic pain, and partly because I don’t want to sound like I’m looking for pity. I am definitely not looking for pity. In fact, pity is a huge annoyance to me. When people hear about my physical struggles, what I went through and live with, the most common response is, with a wrinkled brow and frown, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” (In fact this just happened to me earlier this month at my son’s doctor appointment). While I appreciate the sentiment and concern, deep down it makes me feel small. I hate to be pitied. I only share because this is a blog about my life, and my ups and downs with multiple sclerosis.

So, back to the pain (you Princess Bride fans are quoting now, aren’t you? “To the pain!”… Focus, Mindy…) I get a lot of headaches, and if I don’t medicate soon enough when I feel one coming on, they are debilitating. This happened two days ago. I felt it coming on but was so busy with the new puppy I didn’t get around to taking my medicine in time. When I finally sat down and took a pill I was able to turn all the lights off and rest and wait for the medicine to kick in. When you wait too long to take it, it isn’t as effective, but it at least takes the piercing edge off. So when I felt another headache coming on last night, I didn’t wait to medicate. And this time I took two pills, just to be extra proactive. This worked, and I was able to enjoy the evening with my family. Lessons learned.

I also experience body aches at times. An all over pain, both like bruising tenderness and pins and needles. While I can’t predict the headaches because I don’t know what’s causing them, I can predict this all over body pain. It happens after lots of physical activity. I compare it to how you feel after a bad car accident (I’ve only been in one, decades ago, but I remember the pain). I had this pain after I chaperoned my daughter’s middle school camp, after girl scout camp, and even after Thanksgiving. And now I’m experiencing it after a few days alone with a brand new puppy. *Sigh*

So when I know I’m going to be doing something that involves a lot of activity, I have to plan in a couple days following in order to recover. I could avoid the activities altogether, but the memories I make are worth the pain. I’m not giving up on my family or friends just for a few extra days of comfort. Some things in life are worth it.

Mindy rides the bus!

Some things that are easy and simple for most people are things that became scary for me 8 years ago. When I suddenly lost my hearing and then half my vision that fall of 2013, it was a drastic paradigm shift for me. The cochlear implants help a lot, but they don’t provide me with 100% normal hearing. And nothing can be done about my 60% visual field loss.

I still remember vividly standing in my kitchen all those years ago, terrified to cut an apple. I couldn’t see much and I was so unsure of myself. I feared I would cut off one of my fingers. However, after some encouragement from a friend who assured me I could do hard things, I took what felt like a massive risk and I cut that apple.

I can do hard things.

I’ve been working very hard these past 8 years to find some sense of normalcy in my life. There are still a lot of things I cannot do, or can only do in a limited capacity. I cannot drive or cut straight lines. I can’t seem to determine north from west anymore. I get lost very easily. Hearing and reading are both extremely exhausting because they take so much mental effort.

But what I’ve recently learned I can do is walk half a mile to the bus stop. I can get on the bus, pay the fare, sit down, and listen to my phone with my cochlear implant Bluetooth connection to be notified when my stop is approaching. I bought my first bus pass several years ago and I didn’t use it for the first time until this year because I was afraid. I had never ridden the bus before, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear or read the cues and I would miss my stop, get lost. Not know how to get home.

But then I remember that apple and am reminded that I can do hard things.

My first trip was a couple months ago with my kids, before summer break had ended, and they were there as a safeguard to be sure we got off on the right stop. My second trip was last week with my daughter, who was a huge help calming my nerves. She viewed it as an adventure, and was not worried at all about getting lost.

My third trip was today and I went alone. All by myself! It seems silly to me that I get such a sense of achievement and excitement at riding the bus by myself, because regular people do this every day without issue. However, I have to remember that the functions I have lost between my vision and hearing, do make this more of a challenge. Riding the bus was an entirely new thing to me, so I didn’t have any old habits or familiarity to draw from. It took a lot of courage for me to take these trips and I should not discount that. This was hard for me, and I did it anyway. This was a fear conquered, a giant slayed.

Mindy rides the bus!

I can do hard things, and so can you! What hard thing are you avoiding? What’s holding you back? I dare you to stare that hard thing square in the eyes and just do whatever it is.

You can do hard things.

Searching for Zen Mindy

I’ve been watching a lot of Jane the Virgin lately and in it they refer to Zen Rafael. As in, he’s only calm, cool, and collected some of the time. I’ve realized lately that I still struggle a lot with time anxiety and maybe it’s time to slay that giant. It’s time to find Zen Mindy.

I fight this anxiety daily when the kids are getting ready for school. I get so amped up worrying that they are going to miss the bus. This morning was the first time I actually didn’t feel stress about it. I showered while they got ready. I made my coffee while they ate breakfast. They both left on time. My heart rate stayed nice and slow, I was relaxed. I did not yell. It felt like victory. A battle won in this war against my anxiety over time.

But then came another challenge! I went to the neurologist today. I schedule my paratransit rides to pick me up in plenty of time after the visits. You always have to estimate how long it’s going to take, and while this is tricky, I’ve gotten better at it over time. I always give myself extra time to be on the safe side and I don’t mind waiting in case I’m done early. However, today ran a little longer than my estimate. I was still waiting at the lab to get my bloodwork at the exact time I should have been downstairs waiting for my ride. Historically, I would have sat and fidgeted, checked the time every 30 seconds. Started sweating and tensing up. Maybe called the paratransit dispatch to let them know I would be late (they always tell me to call back later when I’m actually done). This time, however, I decided to try a different approach. I asked myself, “what if I miss my ride?” and the answer was simple. I would call and get another ride. In the six or seven years I’ve been using this service, I’ve had to do that less than ten times and I have never been stranded. So, clearly this was not a situation warranting panic. So I just kept telling myself that, and I didn’t bother to look at the clock. And you know what? It worked! When I was all done at the lab I got downstairs as quickly and calmly as possible, and started to call the dispatcher as I exited the building. What did I see? My ride! It was still waiting for me! The driver said I had 22 seconds to spare, and he would have left. I don’t know if he was joking or not, but I was grateful. And just in awe that I was still feeling relaxed despite the close call.

See, when you have no control over your external circumstance, you still have control over one thing, and that’s how you react. How you react is a reflection of your thoughts and assumptions about the situation. Sometimes we find that our brains have been trained to assume the worst scenario and we don’t even realize it. All these times I’ve had anxiety and panic in relation to time – being late – it’s because my brain is reacting to something like being stranded in another town, miles from home. Which has *literally* never happened to me. So why? Why?!? Because my brain is WRONG. And I discovered today, that I can tell it that. Brain, you are wrong, you are reacting to something that has not happened and probably never will. So let’s back this train up and get on a more realistic track.

You can continue to stress about all the possibilities, realistic or not, or you can choose to come up with solutions to the most probable scenarios and move on with your day, enjoying the moment. That’s what I experienced today and it was incredibly freeing, so I just had to share. Signing off, Zen Mindy!

I did it!!

Well, it’s a week post-marathon and I’ve put this off long enough. I was hoping to write a beautifully elegant recap of the marathon, but you’ll just have to settle for my jumbled thoughts and memories. Keep in mind this was written in spurts throughout the week, if that tells you anything about how my recovery was going.

I’m still processing the reality of what I accomplished by finishing a marathon. I mostly feel relief and post race pain. Maybe when I’ve physically healed it will start to hit me. I want to tell you all about it, I really do, but I’m honestly just tired and sore. I need to rest and recover.

****Here is the pause while I am recovering****

Okay. Still fatigued but my brain is feeling much better. So, I finished in just under 7 hours. That’s nowhere near the time I had been hoping for. However, it occurred to me this morning that the number 7 is Biblically symbolic of completion. And this race was certainly that. Not just a completion of 26.2 miles, but the completion of the goal I set to prove to myself that MS hasn’t won.

Running was never my thing. Running was what my brother and sister did. However, there was a point along the way, along this journey with MS, that I discovered I could run. And I remember sitting at that table with Brett and Kari, out for a drink to celebrate one of our birthdays, when I told them both – “I think I want to try running a 5k.” That was six years ago, and here I am running a marathon. Incredible.

“One step. One punch. One round at a time.” This was the mantra Kari and I kept repeating in the last several miles of the race, in order to keep me going. (It’s from one of the Rocky movies but we weren’t sure we got all the words right.) I was losing motivation quickly. My legs were failing me in ways I had only partially anticipated. I had developed a mysterious lean to the right, my vision was even more foggy than usual. It was clear I was not going to finish anywhere near my time goal, well after the official race had closed down. But I set this goal, I decided back in the spring I was going to do it, so quitting was not an option. Kari reminded me of that. My son, Luke, ran the last 5 miles with us, cheering me on. My brother, Brett, was there for the last 2, lending an arm on the left side to keep me steady. There was a whole group of family and friends waiting for me at the finish line.

As the four of us (Kari, Brett, Luke, and myself) rounded the corner towards the finish, Brett and Luke snuck away and Kari moved further to the right. They knew this was my race and were gracious enough to let me finish on my own. Stubborn me, I did not want to be carried to the finish. I wanted it to be clear I could cross that line on my own two feet. And maybe that’s a little selfish of me but I had to know I could do it.

My sister and I were crying as I hobbled toward the end. I’m sure many others were crying too. I crossed that makeshift finish line and fell into my friend Sarah’s arms. Oh, Sarah. Let me break for a minute to tell you a bit about her. We’ve been friends for a couple decades. She’s the one who helped me get the job where I met my husband. She’s also the amazing woman who cared for me daily when I had my most devastating relapse in 2013. She has fed me, clothed me, even helped bathe me, when I was at my very worst. She has never shown me pity, but always strength and courage. She brings out the best in people when they can’t see it for themselves. She is an incredible human being and I’m so grateful she came to support me at this monumental race.

There’s so much more I could tell. My daughter, Natalie, smiling at me and reminding me, “you were in a walker!”. She knows this was big. She’s proud of her mom, yes, but my hope for her is that this memory will be a constant reminder that she also can do hard things.

And my husband, Mike. Sarah handed me off to him at that finish line. By this time my legs were collapsing and he wrapped his strong arms around me and wouldn’t let me fall (literally and figuratively!). He knew all along that I would finish this race because he knows me. He knows my stubborn determination and he knows how much this meant to me.

I guess all this is to say that running a marathon was not just about the running. This was an experience I’ll never forget. Yes, I may forget the pain, and the lost toenails, and the weeklong fatigue I felt after it was done. I may forget all the long training runs and the miles I put in each week. But I will never forget all the people who supported me along the way. There were lots of people at this race to cheer me on, but there were so many more back at home who have been rooting for me to slay this giant. And I couldn’t do life without any of them. Thank you all, for walking by my side and for carrying me when needed. My hope now that this crazy race is over is that I can put all my energy into giving back to you. I’m truly grateful.

Last long run!

Saturday was a memorable day. Actually, the whole weekend was pretty dang awesome. My sister and I have been talking for some time about having a Rocky movie marathon, and we finally had it set but then had to reschedule. As it turns out, the weekend we settled on happened to also be the week of our final long run of our marathon training – 20 miles. So it worked out perfectly that we could watch some movies and then take a break to run 20 together.

The plan was to get up early and start running by 5 am to beat the heat for a good chunk of the run. When I told my son about this, he wanted to join us for the first couple miles, just to see what it would be like to run in the dark. I honestly didn’t think we would be able to drag him out of bed at 4 am but he surprised me. He was up and ready to go without any trouble!

Kari had the loops planned out so we were able to stop back at the house after the first two miles, and then again after another couple sets that I can’t recall. I just know we got some short breaks for bathroom and fueling and we completed the 20 without much issue. We learned a lot on this run that will prepare us for race day and we both feel pretty confident that I’ll be able to complete the distance. The only thing I’m a little nervous about is finishing within the time limit, but I think with the taper period and changing up my run/walk breaks a bit, I might have a good chance at finishing in time. That’s the goal anyway.

I was really surprised to not experience much foot drop throughout the 20 miles, and my leg only threatened to give out once, and that was on our very last mile. That just shows the progress I’ve made throughout this training process! I got some major friction burns on my back from my hydration pack, so I won’t be wearing my “Beast Mode” tank for long runs anymore. Not sure what happened there. Also, my problem toe blistered pretty good under the silicone toe cap, but I didn’t feel it much during the run so I can live with that too.

I am very happy to say that the hardest part of the training is over! Now I just need to stay on track with the remaining training runs until race day. After that, I’ll probably stick to 5Ks and 10Ks for awhile. I’m not gonna lie, this has been pretty rough but I think it will be worth it. I’ll wear my medal proudly and maybe reward myself with a tattoo to commemorate the achievement 😉