Category Archives: Editorial

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The Natural Order of Life

Growing up on a farm, I learned the hard lesson that an individual life can often be shorter than the average lifespan predicts.

The natural order of life and death must be faced on a regular basis when living on a farm.  Our farm raised milk cows and so while I was fully aware of where our meat came from, I knew that the production of milk was the main goal.  This meant keeping the animals healthy and alive for a long time.

My role in the business was aiding my mother in nurturing the young calves. My mom was a great nurturer of animals and had a phenomenal survival rate with her charges.  At times she was even asked to guest speak for agricultural classes.  So while I was exposed to death on the farm, I only directly faced it with the very weak or very old animals.

This pattern changed drastically during the summer of my fifteenth year when an unusual virus took the life of fifty percent of the animals born that summer. While we did everything we could to keep the feverish newborns alive, in the end the strange virus was just too destructive.  By the end of that hot, grueling summer, death no longer seemed like something natural, but rather like a monster, unmerciful and unrelenting.  A new comprehension that the natural order of life and death could be traumatic settled in my consciousness.

That year was my last to work on the farm; the world around me changed and I changed with it. Over the years, the trauma of that summer faded and was replaced with a greater understanding that there are worse things in life than death.

Now I am older, a mother with my own teenagers who have experienced the death of many family members in their youth. While to my children, these family members were old, a few had died before reaching the “average” lifespan and by most standards, were still too young to leave this life behind.  I have tried to bring comfort to myself and teach my children that their grandmothers went to a better place; that their bodies had been worn out too soon, and that death brought an end to their suffering.

Just as the animals of my youth helped me face the realities of life and death and helped prepare me for the eventual death of family members, the animals of my children’s youth are teaching the same lessons.  Like the summer of my fifteenth year when an unusual heat brought an unusual virus, this year has presented odd shifts in the weather bringing untimely deaths.

Winter is supposed to be cold.  Animals grow extra hair to keep them warm during the winter, and unlike humans they can’t simply remove their coats when the temperature soars.  Sadly older animals, animals with weaker constitutions, and the very young often don’t survive when the temperatures soar one day and drop the next. Sometimes human intervention can help, but often times an animal, seemingly healthy one day, will lie down in the night and will rise no more at the dawn. This is life and life is not predictable. Knowing the average lifespan was met, is not a comfort.

Rest in Peace Bean – you taught us much about angora rabbits, made us laugh at your antics, and left a healthy posterity to carry on in your absence.  9 Feb 2012

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Answering the Call – “Mom …?”

I always knew that I would love homeschooling my kids during their teens.

When they were little, they needed seatwork and lots of encouragement.  I am not sure that I did so well in either of those areas.  Yes there was seatwork and yes there was encouragement, but did it all happen at the right time or get completely done? Probably not.  One thing for certain, I could never be far away from their desks if anything was to turn out well.

When they were in the middle years, I was able to have a little more time to myself.  They worked on their own better than when mom was around.  They tested their boundaries. They learned lessons from books and from their own choices: good and bad.  During this time, I was able to have creative time, sometimes with the kids and sometimes on my own. These were turbulent years for us in so many ways, and homeschooling was a blessing.  I am not sure how we would have gotten through them if we had not been able to go through it all together.  People question why my kids are so mature?  A lot of life happened in those few short years.  We all grew old faster than normal.

Now we have entered a new phase.  I spend the day at the computer located in my office just across the hall from their rooms and today it finally occurred to them why.  I am on the computer most of the day so I am near them when they need me.  If I were in my sewing room downstairs, I am not as available when they need an opinion.  You see I don’t grade seatwork any more.  I don’t check spelling.  The truth is they have surpassed me in most skills.  They are talented, smart and very creative, each in their own way.   However, they still need mom to explain, confirm and reassure them.  One of the two, watches the news, reads the news and thinks a whole lot on the world he is soon to enter and work hard to change.  The other one sees the beauty of the world and wants to help others see that beauty as well, but her eyes often get clouded with doubt.  Her doubt blocks her creativity. Her doubt often causes her to miss the beauty staring back at her in a mirror.

From one room the call comes, “Mom does this sound correct?”  Soon from the other room the same question is posed.  Laptops in hands, they each come to the office and show me their work.  While one waxes philosophical, one poetic, both communicate an awareness of the world around them.

Yes a new phase is here.  Phone calls to institutions of higher education, college level studies, and an awareness of the political, social and economic trials of our times have become the order of the day.  So I now spend many long hours studying the internet (intermixed with a few moments of Zynga gaming) all so I can answer the call, “Mom what does this mean?”

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Fibromyalgia and Me – it’s about more than just the pain!

While I appreciate the fact that TV commercials are bringing to light the existence of Fibromyalgia, it bothers me that the perception they present is that Fibromyalgia is only about the pain.  Of course it is the drug manufactures who are paying for the commercials, so they have a vested interest in promoting the pain reducing benefits of their drugs.

However, the very real and potentially disabling pain is only one of the many symptoms that Fibromyalgia sufferers face on a daily basis.  From my own experience, reading and conversations with medical professionals, it seems that Fibromyalgia affects individuals in various ways.  Some may get a few symptoms, some may get a lot. Symptoms can range from intense bouts, or to unrelenting daily ordeals.

The medical community’s understanding of Fibromyalgia seems to still be in its infancy or at least its childhood.  When I was diagnosed, I was very fortunate to have access to a medical provider who preferred using drugs only as a last resort. This was very fortunate for me because I have a tendency to have the side effects so often listed in drug disclaimers.

I will never forget the day when I finally became too frustrated with the pain and knew I had to find an answer.  I had just turned thirty-eight and could barely sit up straight.  I could no longer pinch my thumb and index finger together with any force, and for a hand quilter this was devastating.  Rather than give up I turned to my computer and did a search of my symptoms.  To my utter surprise Fibromyalgia immediately popped up on the screen.  What surprised me more was the list of secondary symptoms that accompanied pain.

Now I use the term “secondary” only because of the widespread notion that pain is the only symptom. However I do not consider these symptoms secondary in any way.  You see, I have suffered from Fibromyalgia since I was an early teen.  I can trace the symptoms back at least that far and can pin point two traumatic events that might have triggered the symptoms during those years. I was a functioning, productive person through my teens and twenties, never letting the pain stop me.  Truthfully, during those years, I didn’t realize I was different from anyone else, and for the most part I had learned to push the pain to the back of my brain where it wouldn’t interfere with my plans.

By thirty-eight other symptoms were becoming real problems for me.  The biggest was the “Fibro Fog”.  I began to really worry because my short term memory was terrible.  I would also have times where my vision and hearing wouldn’t seem right. Not to mention stomach issues, anxiety, headaches and dizziness. Everything just seemed to be falling apart and I felt really old. I was especially upset because commercials said, “Depression hurts!”  I knew I wasn’t depressed, my family knew I wasn’t depressed, but I did hurt and it wouldn’t go away.

I am not much of a “why me” person but more of “why doesn’t anyone understand me” type when I don’t feel well.  I kept asking the question, “How did I get this way?”  I knew that a spine injury at thirty had started my downward spiral.  I had been a runner before then, but even with great medical help and therapy, I just couldn’t get healthy.  Every time I would get back into my exercise routine I would feel like I had the flu.  Sometimes it would be so bad that I would take a pregnancy test because I felt like I had morning sickness.  So not feeling well, I would stop the exercise and sleep more.  Needless to say the symptoms would reduce for a while so I would try it all over again.  For eight years I did this.  I also put on weight, reduced my work load and became virtually stranded in my home. To all those who knew me other than my family, I seemed relatively fine, but the myth was shattered the year I turned thirty-eight because I knew my mom was dying and the knowledge was crippling me; my mom was only sixty-four.  When my recent visit to a hand specialist left both the doctor and me in tears, I knew that I had to find out if anyone else suffered like me.

I really have been blessed in so many ways during the years since I was diagnosed.  I have had great family support, good counsel from a companionate doctor, a bishop who would listen when I needed to burden someone besides my family and who would give me work to do so I wouldn’t feel so useless.

Regardless of the support I have received, one of the hardest things to overcome has been the confusion over what Fibromyalgia is.  There have been times I have wanted to carry the WebMD’s symptom sheet (http://www.webmd.com/fibromyalgia/understanding-fibromyalgia-symptoms) around with me just so that I wouldn’t have to answer the questions.  Sadly I get the feeling that people think, “Just take a pill”.  When I encounter people with or who have family who suffer from Fibromyalgia, I am asked, “What do you medication do you take?”

Well I don’t take Fibromyalgia medication, but I support those who do. I sleep when the fatigue is unbearable and I work when I am awake.  I try to eat well, and binge on cheese rather than chocolate when the pain is bad.  I try to drink water when my body tells me I am not thirsty but I know I should be.  I try to drink milk regularly because it seems to cut down on my heartburn. I use an electric blanket or really hot baths when my skin hurts and my bones feel frozen to the core.  I often take naps after sunrise and avoid driving at sunset.  I take pain killers when my head feels like it will explode, but avoid them for other pains. I have learned to exercise slowly and find new ways to keep moving even when it hurts.  Most importantly I look for positive things to do when I feel good.  I make the most of those prime days; days when the weather is calm and the barometer is steady.  Oh yea, I have learned to laugh more and I encourage my family to laugh more as well.