Emily M. DeArdo

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No, You Cannot Cure CF with "Diet"

CF, health, transplantEmily DeArdo4 Comments

(I’m doing a book giveaway this week! Enter here!)

I see a lot of crazy things on the Internet.

One of my favorites (sarcasm mode) is that you can “cure” every chronic disease with diet.

Um….


No, you can’t.

No diet is going to make chromosome 7 magically work in me.

No diet will fix the fact that I have CFRD (CF Related Diabetes). It will not make my pancreas magically make insulin.

I am really, really tired of this crap. Stop it.

When I visited the CF dietician back in the day (I don’t need a specific CF dietician anymore) the rule was “eat as much of anything as you want” as long as it’s not diet, low-fat, or fat free. EAT EAT EAT. We were always trying to find ways to pour more calories into my body. Milkshakes. Ice cream. There was calorie powder!!! (I am not kidding.)

That’s because when you have CF, your body burns an incredible amount of calories just trying to maintain your baseline. Coughing takes a lot of energy. EVERYTHING takes a lot of energy. Oh, and salt? You want a LOT OF THAT. Popcorn. Peanuts. Potato chips. Because your body loses a lot more salt that everyone else’s. So in the summer, I’m all about the sallllt.

When you see things that say “diabetes can be reversed with diet” they are (I hope) talking about type two, and yes, in type 2, what you eat does matter. It matter a lot. You can try to fix it with what you eat. But if you are a T1 person, you cannot. It’s not possible.

And also, if you have T1, you actually need sugar sometimes. There are times when I am commanded to eat candy and pizza and drink orange juice! (hopefully not at the same time!)

While I’m fixing health lies, let’s fix another one: You do not just “get a transplant.”

If you need one, you might not get one. If you smoke, you must stop smoking. You are tested for cigarette usage in your labs. If you drink and you need a liver transplant, you need to stop drinking.

Do some people do stupid things post-transplant? heck yes. And these are people who get kicked out of their center’s program and are not eligible for another transplant, should they need one.

But the vast majority of the time, centers are hard core about making this sort of behavior STOP before, because there are so many people that need transplants. If you’re not going to take care of the organ, then you’re most likely not going to get one!

And it’s hard work to qualify for a transplant. It’s days of tests and evaluations by multiple people on a multidisciplinary team. The idea of “just getting a transplant” is laughable to me.

2020 taught me a lot about how little the average American knows about hospitals, illness, and ICUs. (And germs.) But in 2021 I’m seeing a lot of misinformation about what a “good” diet can do for your body.

homemade bolognese. YUM.

homemade bolognese. YUM.

Good food can help you in a lot of ways. So can exercise. But it does not cure everything and people who say it does are charlatans, up there with the “essential oils cure ebola” crowd.

So, now you know! Go and use your knowledge. :)



Each day fresh, with no mistakes in it

journalEmily DeArdo1 Comment
Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it..png

“Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it,” as Miss Stacy once told Anne Shirley. And after the year that was 2020, I think we need to remember that tomorrow is always fresh! We can always start again.

Looking back on 2020, there were two great things: my book, and Patty. Those are things I am glad to keep, and things I celebrate. 2020, no matter what else happened, will always be a good year because of those two things, and the things that came from them.

Patty on Christmas, with the teething toys she got.

Patty on Christmas, with the teething toys she got.

Stacks of my book in my office.

Stacks of my book in my office.

I’ll never wish those things back.

In my family, it’s generally a good day if, at the end of it, no one ended up in the ER. And I wonder if that’s a mindset we need to take with us into 2021? The idea that our days will not be perfect all the time, which is why we need to remember what Miss Stacy told Anne—every day is a fresh chance to get it right. And maybe we need to adjust the bar for what’s considered a “good” day? If at the end of the day, everyone is home, everyone is safe, and everyone is fed, then can we call that a good day? Or at least a day that we got through and we can try again tomorrow?

I wrote this on Instagram, and I share it here because it’s true: “Most of all, I’d keep what I know to be true: that a great, good God is running this show, and while I don’t always understand what’s going on, He does. And He has plans for our salvation, happiness, and joy.”

We don’t always see the plan. I like to know the plan. I’m BIG on that. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve also realized that I’m never going to know all of it. I’m just not! I have to give these things to God. That doesn’t mean I don’t try to do my best. But as John Paul XXIII (I think?) said, “It’s your Church, Lord. I’m going to bed.”

Sometimes, the best thing we can do is turn it all over to God and go to bed.

As we head into this new year, we don’t know what will happen. But if we try, every day, to live it with God ad with intention, I think we’ll have lots of good days, good weeks, and good years.








Seven Quick Takes--The eye is healed up!

7 Quick Takes, family, journal, knitting, writingEmily DeArdoComment
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Hi everyone! We’re back!


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So I saw my eye doctor yesterday and my corneal abrasion has healed, yayyyyy! I can wear contacts again! Double yay! He wants me to use eye drops for the next week which is fine, just to add some extra lubrication to my eye, no big deal. I’m very glad that it has healed up because I need my eyes to function! (As in, more than the average bear, because of the ears not working, ha!)


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If you need a cuteness pick-me-up, presenting….Adso! (AKA, the Outlander cat)

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And if you need more cute, here’s Patty:


On her baptism say. She looks…..unsure. :) My godson, however, was baptized while he was having a bottle! :)

On her baptism say. She looks…..unsure. :) My godson, however, was baptized while he was having a bottle! :)


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Business: There’s a patreon. Check it out! Trying to build another income stream and I am so grateful for all my readers and patrons! Once you’re a writer that doesn’t mean you’re rolling in dough. I get my royalty checks once a year (September and March), and I do have to pay taxes (25%!!!!) on my royalties. So. More income streams are good! Thanks for considering.

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Pro tip: Don’t try to knit anything when you don’t normally wear glasses and you’re suddenly wearing them all the time. I’ll be so glad to get back to my knitting ASAP!

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The gallbladder is healing very well, my surgeon is quite pleased. :) I see my transplant clinic folk onMonday so let’s hope all is well there….I will update you when I get back.

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One of my favorite Marian devotions is the Seven Sorrows Chaplet. Have you heard of it? Read about it and pray it, especially since September is devoted to Our Lady of Sorrows!

If you would like a seven sorrows chaplet, this is where I got mine (she’s a local lady who does beautiful work!)

Seven Quick Takes--Easter Friday

7 Quick Takes, hearing loss, health, holidays, journal, the bookEmily DeArdo1 Comment
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HE IS RISEN! Wooooo!

Let’s try to party as much as we can? OK?

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Little bit of business first—Ave Maria Press is shipping books again, and my book is on sale!

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The book’s sale price is $9, so grab a couple, stock up! Or buy some other great books—Joyful Momentum , Pray Fully, and Giving Thanks and Letting Go, are other great reads!

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On the blog this week:

Wednesday Notebook #5

Emily Knits a Cardigan!



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Whew, I feel like I have a lot of things to tell you, but I don’t know if I really do! :)

My birthday was last Thursday—Holy Thursday. Obviously we didn’t “go” to Mass. I watched Bishop Barron’s Mass from Santa Barbara—his Masses are captioned, so that’s why I watch those in particular.

There was cake….

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There was mucho birthday yarn….

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There were other gifts, too, but I didn’t take photos so I’ll have to talk about them next week. :) Maybe I’ll do a whole birthday post so we can have some fun?

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And Easter was weird, too…..I mean, no Mass, for starters. I did watch a Vigil recording at my home parish. BUT—IT IS STILL EASTER. So even though it’s not what we’re used to, the Resurrection still happened. :) We are still Easter people!

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(LONG!)

A couple things that I’ve been thinking about—If we’re all going to be wearing masks for the near future, I, and other hearing impaired folks, are massively screwed, because we read lips. (Well, some of us do!)

Can I just ask—if someone asks you to pull your mask down when you’re talking to them, can you step back and do that? Because otherwise, I really have no idea what you’re saying. In hospital settings my doctors and nurses don’t wear masks, because we end up having a “What did you say?” marathon. It’s just not practical. I’ve seen some pieces that have talked about face time calls or having someone with you to “translate.”

Massive sigh.

Guys. First off, if I had to bring one of my parents to every doctor’s appointment I had, they’d go nuts. And they can’t go to every one. Second, this denies me my agency. I hate to say that because it’s sounds so jargon-ish, but people need to talk to me, not the other people with me. ME. THE PERSON, THE PATIENT.

There are, apparently, masks with clear sections around the lips for lipreading in development. They have to be FDA approved, for starters. And then put into production. And honestly, I don’t think they’re going to be produced for a while yet, because they’re just not a priority.

It is already hard enough for me to get hospitals to email me or talk to people who aren’t me because I can’t use the phone. But if mask wearing becomes super en vogue, a lot of us are really screwed, and I’m going to be either having meltdowns in stores, or I’ll be answering all the wrong questions and looking like an idiot.

I’m trying not to freak out about something that might not happen. But I would ask you all to be aware—if you’re talking to someone and it seems like they’ve really lost the plot, and you’re wearing a mask, chances are they’re hearing impaired.

Oh, and also—and this is just in general—if I ask you to repeat yourself, please do it. Don’t huff about it or be annoyed about it. Just repeat yourself. You don’t need to start with “I said.” And also DO NOT SAY YOU SAID NOTHING. You clearly said something.


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On that note….happy Friday? :) I’ve been watching a lot of the Met Opera live streams. If you’re an opera fan, be sure to check it out. If not, check it out! Tonight is Madama Butterfly, super popular, and a great first opera! Also, this is a gorgeous production.

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Seven Quick Takes--Fourth Friday of Lent

7 Quick Takes, books, Catholicism, current events, journal, knittingEmily DeArdo2 Comments
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We’ll start with some business. :) First, if you have read my book, please leave a review on Amazon! That helps more people find it (the more reviews, the more it shows up in Amazon “related items” or whatever.)

Second, Ave Maria Press is having an ebook sale, and Living Memento Mori is part of it!

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Last week, as you know, I wrote all about Billy. You have probably seen the post from Monday, where I wrote about his death. Thank you, again, for all the comments, thoughts, and prayers for my friend, her husband, and their little boy. It’s so comforting to know that people are, as Anne Frank said, “really good at heart.”

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Here in Ohio, we’re basically shut down. We’re told to stay inside unless it’s an essential thing—like, you must work, or get groceries or food, or things like that. We can go out to exercise, as well, sot hat’s helpful. But just going out to go out and in groups is, um, discouraged highly. I live alone, so most of my days are spent in my own company, but the hardest thing is not being in contact with people—no hugs. No touching. It’s rough. I mean I’m not a hugely touchy-feely person, but I do like parental hugs! And I haven’t had any in a month (or thereabouts). Sigh. Oh well. It could be worse.

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The knitting is a lot of comfort knitting—I went into my stash and broke it down into types of yarn and then projects I can do with each type. Right now I’ve got two garter stitch scarves going and I’m going to make some washcloths with the stash of cotton dishcloth yarn I have here—why I bought so much, no idea. But knitting keeps my hands busy and it’s nice to have the feeling of getting something done and working on a project with a definitive, easy to see end! :)

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I dunno if we really need more memento mori art, but here’s one of St. Catherine of Siena:

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As far as churches go, we’re shut down at least through April 6, which is Palm Sunday. I would bet that there won’t be public celebrations of Holy Week, which is just….weird. I mean, weirder then Mass not happening publicly. I am very much hoping for streaming services for these. The Triduum liturgies are so beautiful! And my birthday is on Holy Thursday this year! That’s always special and to not have the Mass is just….again, weird. That’s really the only word I can use right now. WEIRD.

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What are you reading, writing, doing, cooking—whatever-ing—during this time? Share your ideas in the comments!

Wednesday notebook

books, journal, knitting, Wednesday notebookEmily DeArdoComment

While the COVID 19 virus goes on, I’m going to try to do a Wednesday notebook—a mid-week check in with what I’m doing, reading, watching, and any goodies I find on the internet to share with you. And also let’s have conversation in the comments—how is everyone doing? Let’s get some virtual community!


MAKING:

These brownies from King Arthur Flour are AMAZING. So fudgy. I made them with one cup of chips because that’s all I had—still excellent.

Their English Muffin Toasting Bread is next up in my baking list.

I’m still working on my elementary wrap in Linen Quill from Purl Soho.

Elementary Wrap and book stack!

Elementary Wrap and book stack!


READING:

Exalted, by Sonja Corbitt

Revelations of Divine Love, by Julian of Norwich

The Red Lotus, by Chris Bohjalian (about…..a pandemic…..)

From the Depths of Our Hearts, Benedict XVI and Cardinal Robert Sarah

Making A Life, Melanie Falick

(and of course my book!)

WATCHING:

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Going to watch all of the Hobbit movies….might as well!)

Knives Out

Links and such:

Social Distancing Tips from a Cloistered Nun (I LOVE Sister Mary Catherine!)

Catholic Coloring Pages and activities for kids!

Magnificat is offering their app for FREE during this—daily Mass readings and other devotions

Maybe have a reset day?

Met Opera streaming!


Illness & Piety

Catholicism, current events, essays, health, journal, prayerEmily DeArdo3 Comments
The second station: Jesus Carries His Cross

The second station: Jesus Carries His Cross

A lot of dioceses are dispensing their Catholics from attending Mass; some are shutting their churches completely. It’s a strange time to be Catholic in America—what do we do without Mass?

We know that we are required to attend Mass unless we are sick, find ourselves really far from Mass, or for other big reasons (you’ve got a sick kid and you have to stay home to take care of her). Not attending Mass is a mortal sin, but, like all mortal sins, that means there are three criteria for it: Grave matter, full knowledge, and deliberate consent.

If you live in a diocese where the bishop has dispensed you from attending Mass, you’re not committing a mortal sin if you don’t go. We don’t know a lot about this virus. What we do know is that a person can have zero symptoms and be contagious! That’s scary.

Even before the dispensation came down from Ohio’s Catholic bishops, my transplant team had told me that they didn’t want me going to Mass. Was I super pleased with this idea? No. Am I listening to them? yes.

To me, this is very like life right after my transplant. I didn’t attend Mass for three months, because I was severely compromised. To go would not have been a good thing. (And also, it was an uncomfortable thing. Most Catholic churches have wooden pews. When you weigh 90 pounds, your bones really feel that wood, let me tell ya.)

I am being obedient to my doctors, and not going. My health is important and I know they want what is best for us.

I’ve seen some people talking about how our physical health isn’t more important than our spiritual health. This is true—but, that doesn’t mean that we should be reckless. There are saints who were told not to do so many penances, that they were being too hard on their bodies. It’s a balance.

I am NOT suggesting that we skip Mass just for the fun of it. I am saying that at this time it’s important to think about other people at Mass. (And really, all the time…)

People like me aren’t going. But that doesn’t mean that there won’t be people at Mass who take care of immunocompromised people, or work with them. If they get sick, that’s a big problem. So let’s remember basic good practices.

If you’re sick, don’t shake hands at the sign of peace! Use hand sanitizer. Cover your cough. Leave some space between yourself and other parishioners, so you don’t run the risk of getting them sick. If you have the flu, stay home!

The criteria I use to determine how sick I am is thus: If I would miss work, then it’s fine for me to stay home. If someone said, let’s go to Chuy’s, and I wouldn’t go because I feel awful, then I’m sick enough to not go to Mass.

I can see why some bishops are closing churches—because people aren’t doing what is right and prudent. They’re going to Mass and spreading germs everywhere, in flu season, all the time. This is not cool, folks. Use the best practices I outlined above all the time, not just now!

Also, Masses still happen with out a congregation. Carthusian monks, for example, say Mass everyday without a congregation. I imagine that priests will still say Mass, even if the church is empty.

So, what can you do if your dioceses has shut your churches, or if you are staying home from Mass?

In this time, you might want to check on your neighbors who are sick or older, and see if you can do anything for them to help them out. Maybe you could pick up their groceries for them or something, or put gas in their car.

Just because we can’t get to Mass doesn’t mean that we can’t still practice our faith. Yes, the Mass is the source and summit of our lives. Yes, it’s vital.

But sometimes life intervenes and we can’t worship the way we’d like to. I’ve experienced that a lot in my life.

St. Teresa of Avila once received instructions from God to build her convent somewhere. Her bishop then told her to build her convent somewhere else. Teresa obeyed the bishop, because she knew she owed obedience to him. She said later, when God asked her about this, that she knew her bishop was telling her what to do and she owed him obedience; she might have imagined what God told her to do. (This story was in the book Be Holy. I’m paraphrasing here.)

Keep calm, guys, and carry on—and PRAY. Don’t rage against your bishop and take offense. Pray. If you can go to Mass, weigh if it’s prudent for you and your family. If you go, act responsibly—don’t crowd pews, cover your cough, don’t shake hands at the sign of peace, etc.

The important thing is to pray, even if you can’t get to Mass.

Seven Quick Takes--Second Friday of Lent

7 Quick Takes, Catholicism, books, current events, health, journal, movies, Seven Quick TakesEmily DeArdo2 Comments
I took this picture before Mass last week—I couldn’t resist the light.

I took this picture before Mass last week—I couldn’t resist the light.

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On the blog this week:

Virus Lent


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There’s a story about St. Teresa of Avila and Lent that I think is a propos. She once had a great program of Lenten penances planned. She was going to do everything. It was going to be great!

Then she was sick. For all of Lent. And she complained to the Lord about this. “Lord, I had so many great penances to offer you,” etc.

“This is my Lent for you,” He told her.

Looks like, no matter what our penances and plans were, we’re getting the Lent that Jesus wants for us right now.

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Like I wrote in my last post, I’m essentially living like I did right after my transplant—not really leaving my house, people coming to me. I’m not actually opposed to this, but what makes it scary for me is that the world around me is caught up in it, too. Whenever I’ve been sick before, there’s always been some sense of normalcy around me to cling to—school went on, I could go to the movies when I felt better, etc.

Now, nothing’s normal. Here, schools are closed starting Monday. The bishops’ conference of Ohio has dispensed us all from the obligation to attend Mass—and I wasn’t going to do that anyway, on the advice of my doctors. It’s just weird.

Last night after dinner I went and stood on my porch for a minute. It was a lovely night—the sun was setting, it was warm, I could hear the train coming through town. But it felt so eerily calm, like it does before a big storm.

All that to say, that it’s a weird time.

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If you’re in the same boat I am and can’t go to Mass, make a spiritual communion! And also try to keep the Sabbath holy—which we should be doing anyway, but if nothing else, this gives us time to really use Sunday as a day of rest. We all need rest right now! There are no sports to watch, and probably no sports games to go to. There’s nothing else. So let’s bring back the Sabbath! Let’s live it! (book recommendation: Souls at Rest.)

And also, let’s pray with our families! We should be doing that anyway, but let’s bring it back, because man do we all need prayer right now! (Book recommendation: The Little Oratory)

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If we’re doing book recs, um, mine? :)

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So while I’m here in my cloister I’ve made a list of things to do—writing, of course, so there will be ore writing here on the blog! I’m going to do the long awaited Outlander and Catholicism series, so be on the lookout for that! I’ll also be writing about illness and virtue—how we practice faith in times like this—and I’ll be doing a post on St. Damien of Molokai, who seems appropriate right now.

I’m also going to be baking a lot—mostly bread. I’ve been wanting to get in to the habit of making my own bread, and now I have the time to do it….and I also have time to knit like a crazy person. I have all this time…of course there is prayer, also. Lenten practices are still going. And cleaning the house, of course.

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I’ll also be watching a lot of movies, starting with the Hobbit series, because, why not, and also Knives Out, which I never saw in the theaters but am excited to watch now. I have to have some exciement, right?


Virus Lent

essays, journal, LentEmily DeArdo2 Comments
My porch, enjoying some nice late winter sun!

My porch, enjoying some nice late winter sun!

OK, NO, I AM NOT SICK.

So if you were worried about that, relax. :)

However, my team is being abundantly cautious, so I am essentially living like I did immediately post-transplant, which means I”m not really going anywhere and no one sick can come to me. Which is actually the general rule, but now it’s just more….heightened. Fortunately my family members who are local work from home and don’t travel much, except my sister in law, but her travel is domestic and so far she’s fine (thankfully!).

So, for me, no Mass. No My Fair Lady on Saturday (sadness!). No doctor appointments like my diabetes education class. And I’m fine: I mean I’ve got the things I need here to keep the house going and clean, to keep myself fed and medicated.

Which brings me to—-

If you have any burning issues that you want me to write about, let me know because now I have time! :) I think my long-thought-about Outlander and Catholicism series might finally take flight!

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I am hoping to keep my adoration hour. I chose it because I am the only one there at the time, and if I’m not going to Mass then I want to be at adoration. Also there are enough seats in there that we don’t have to be cheek and jowl, so there’s plenty of SPACE, and I can wipe down chairs and such with wipes if I want to/have to.

My diocese hasn’t—as of this writing (3/12 at 12:31 PM) cancelled Masses. So Masses are still going on.The governor is limiting big events with crowds and I think he’ll probably come out with an order about that today, banning big gatherings and such to prevent the spread. So far in Ohio we’ve got four cases—three in Cleveland and one in Summit County, which is near Cleveland. I don’t blame the governor for wanting to be cautious.

Let’s keep each other in prayer and let’s be smart, OK? Don’t go to Mass if you’re sick at all. Don’t shake hands at the sign of peace! Don’t crowd people at Mass—let’s give each other room, if at all possible.

I hope we all come through this OK. Praying for all of you—pray for me too? :)

Seven Quick Takes Jumble Bag

7 Quick Takes, food, journal, Lent, the bookEmily DeArdo5 Comments

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Around these parts this week…

Yarn Along

My interview for the Ave Explores Lent Podcast is live!


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I’ve started Bullet Journaling again—I’ve missed how it keeps all my lists and various things together, so I’m back to doing that. It’s fun! At least I think it is. I’m a big believer in having my life in one place. I still use my Emily Ley Simplified Planner, but my bullet journal is a place to keep my lists, medical information, travel plans, all sorts of things like that in one place as opposed to scattered throughout the house on pieces of paper.

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Trying to get back in the workout groove—I’ve worked out three days this week so far and hoping I can do it today. I’m just so darn tired. Maybe it’s the weather? It’s really gray here. Hopefully I’ll perk up in a little bit and manage to do something!

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Next Saturday I’m going to see the touring production of My Fair Lady and I am really excited about that. I haven’t been to a show in forever. Really. And I’ve never seen My Fair Lady on stage. So I’m excited about that!

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Favorite thing I’ve cooked this week: Outlander KItchen’s Scotch Broth. Give it a try, it’s really good! (If you can’t find pot or pearl barley, you can use quinoa or couscous instead!) And it’s so not hard. It cooks for a while—so it takes awhile—but it’s mostly hands-off cooking.

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A photo I took last week of Venus and the moon:

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How’s your Lent going? Did we all make it through the first week OK? :)

How to be your own health care advocate

CF, essays, health, how to, transplantEmily DeArdoComment
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Today I’m going to share some hard won wisdom with you!

A friend of mine who also has CF said that we’re the “marines of health care.” And that’s true. We’ve had decades of experience working closely with doctors, hospitals, and medication regimens. And what we think of as obvious is not so obvious to the rest of humanity.

So I’m going to share some tips with you today to help you have better health!

I’m going to start with what is probably the most important tip:

Know your baseline.

What I mean by that is know yourself. How do you normally feel? What’s your general energy level? How much sleep do you normally need—and get—and what do you feel best with? (For me, it’s about nine hours.) How does caffeine affect you? (Or doesn’t it?)

All these things are your baseline—how you normally feel when you’re healthy and everything is chugging along just fine. This even includes stuff like how many times you normally go to the bathroom. (I’m not kidding. For a diabetic, this is important to know—and same with CF.)

You might not have thought about this before, but when you feel “off”, it’s because you’re unconsciously comparing your state to how you normally feel—aka, your baseline.

For example, my right hip tends to bother me on and off. It’s not a big deal, I’m aware of it, it’s been checked out. But if it suddenly became really painful, that would be an anomaly.

I knew that my blood glucose was really high, without even testing it, when I was dropping weight really easily and going to the bathroom more often, and carrying water around with me. Those are all not normal feelings for me.

Knowing how you feel—both physically and emotionally and mentally-is key to judging if something is wrong with you.

I knew that the type of insulin I was on over the summer was wrong for me—on a lot of levels—because I became a really awful person! I was snappy and lost my temper at everything and just hated everything, and this is not me!

So you have to know how you feel normally, so you know how you feel when you’re sick, or when something is off.

All drugs have side effects

The questions are: will you get side effects, and if you do, how bad are they?

People are generally shocked to hear that meds can cause problems. Yes, they can. Heck, water can cause problems if you drink too much of it. If you take too much Tylenol, your kidneys are not gonna be happy with you!

Every medication has side effects. Not every person will experience any, or all, of them.

But a side effect alone is not enough to not take the med.

For example: I used to take cipro for infections. People were always shocked. “Don’t you know that class of meds can cause tendon issues?!” they would cry.

Well, yes, I did (do) know that. But the thing is, I didn’t have a choice. This was what I had to take so, to be honest, I didn’t die.

I lost my hearing because of ototoxic meds. That was a choice we made, so I would not die.

Now, I can’t take cipro or any drugs in its class anymore, because my tendons are starting to get weird with it. I can’t tolerate it anymore. So that means I have fewer options for when I get sick.

I take prednisone daily. I have taken it for 15 years and I will take it until I die. It’s what’s causing all my blood glucose issues. But I can’t not take the pred. I tried to go off it. My body hated it. My joints, in particular, were not really happy. I take nexium, a proton pump inhibitor, even though I know it might cause bone issues and all sorts of other things, but reflux can lead to cancer and rejection, so, again—balancing act. I take immunosuppression meds, because I have to to stay alive, even though it ups my cancer risk by about a factor of ten, especially skin cancer.

Sometimes you start a med, have a rough few days, and then your body adjusts. Pre-transplant, I was on bactrim and cipro and a million other meds every day. At first, this was rough. Eventually, I got used to it.

The lesson here is, if you’re having side effect from a med, and it’s severe, then you need to talk to your doctor about it—especially if you’re having any sort of depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation. Then, you must call your doctor IMMEDIATELY. This isn’t something to mess around with. Stop the med, talk to the doctor, figure out another plan! There are lots of meds out there! Find what works for you!

You have to be aware of how a med affects you. That goes back to knowing your baseline.

But yes, when you are taking a medication, your body might not like it. That doesn’t mean that it’s a bad drug. It just isn’t working for you, and that’s fine.

If you want to know the side effects of a med, they are easily google-able, or you can ask your pharmacist or your doctor. Every time I go to pick up meds, I get asked if I want to talk to the pharmacist about it. EVERY TIME. So, if you want to know, do that!

You have to know your medical history

You—as in, you yourself—must know your medical history. You must know what drugs you take and why. You must know the dosages. You must know what drugs you cannot take (if any). You have to know what is contraindicated for you.

For example: I can’t have MRIs. I can’t have PICC lines (it’s PICC, not PIC. Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter, folks.), because there aren’t any more spots for them! I can’t have zofran because it makes me vomit. These are all things I have learned and I often have to tell medical professionals these things. Because, they don’t know. Or they haven’t read my chart. (grumble grumble.)

My parents know these things as well. I have my med list and issue list on my phone so I can just whip it out in an ER or a new doctor’s office. It is a good idea to have someone else know your medical history so if you have to go somewhere in an emergency, that person can either say, yes, here’s the deal, or, “here it is on her phone.” (Now, for me, anyone who has read the book knows basically all of my medical history, ha!) I don’t expect people to be able to spout off all of it—except my parents, and they can do it—but I do have friends who know, OK, this is the deal. Especially when I travel with people, I have to tell them things that are relevant, like, me and the sun are not friends. I might have to stay inside for certain hours. I have to check my blood sugar. I might need you to get me juice. Etc.

But you have to be your own advocate. You have to say, I’m sorry, I can’t do that—and why. You have to say, I cannot take that med, or have that procedure, or whatever. (For Catholics, this also includes why you’re not taking birth control pills for contraceptive purposes! Not that you need to go all Humane Vitae on the doctor!)

Sometimes you have to talk doctors off ledges. Sometimes I get a new doctor who doesn’t realize I’m genetically anemic (I have thalassemia minor.) He’ll freak out when he sees my iron counts. But I’ve always been anemic, and we don’t do anything about it. It just is. I’m used to it!

And finally….

Be aware of change

Sometimes you’ll be on a med for awhile and you’ll be fine, and then you’ll notice…issues. That can happen. Sometimes a med builds up in your system and then it causes issues that were not apparent in the beginning. (Ototoxic meds, looking at you!) So if you have a chronic condition, you do need to evaluate. Again, know your baseline. Know what you’re being treated for. Sometimes I have to say, guys, this med isn’t working anymore. And we figure out something else.

Essentially, we all have to be aware of how we normally feel, what we’re taking, why we’re taking it, and our own health history. This enables you to be your own best advocate, which is vitally important.

A Little Retrospective: A Decade Past

fun, essays, journalEmily DeArdoComment
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After reading Erin Napier’s journal post on a decade in the rearview, I felt inspired to do my own, and honestly, these last ten years of my life have been pretty nuts, and thus worthy of a retrospective!

Here we go….

2010: Five Years Into It

In 2010, I hit my five year transplant anniversary, which I celebrated by doing the show Oliver! I went to Duck for the second time with my parents and my sister and enjoyed it just as much as I had the first time I went with Tiffany and her family in 2008. I was blogging but I didn’t have this site yet. I knew I wanted to write a book , but at the time it was sort of an ephemeral idea with me writing a few things here and there.

2011: Unbreak my heart

The year began with The Importance of Being earnest, and heart issues. I had Afib/SVT—we never really figured out which—which led to an admit in January and a second ablation at OSU in April, but I was released before my birthday, continuing my streak of not being in the hospital for my birthday. I did Ragtime that summer, we went to Williamsburg, VA, for family vacation and I loved it. I also moved into Barton Cottage (the townhouse) that year.

2012: New Job

I moved to the Clerk’s office after the 2012 elections, was in The House of Bernarda Alba, and was still writing. I turned 30! :)

2013: So much travel

I went to NYC for my first Jeopardy! audition and saw Once with my cousin Jack. We had a lot of fun that trip. I went to Disney World with my dad and was in Les Miserables that summer and And Then There Were None in the fall.

2014: The last working year

I began the process of taking disability retirement from the Senate, because working full-time was just not working with what my body needed. March 14 was my last day, and I saw The Phantom of the Opera that night with my friend Mary. I went back to Disney World with Dad , was in The Music Man and Hello, Dolly! and made life promises as a Lay Dominican.

2015: Getting it all on paper

I began the process of writing The Book by getting my entire story on paper, thus creating the very first complete draft. Edel 2015 was awesome—I spent my 10th anniversary there and was interviewed by Hallie Lord and Jen Fulwiler for Jen’s radio show. It was a great experience! I had my second Jeopardy! audition in Boston. Dad and I ate at Legal Seafood, Cheers, and a great Italian Restaurant in the North End. I also set up this website! So it’s five years old this year!

2016: Jeopardy!

I was in the hospital in January with pneumonia (booo!) but went to SoCal in April (yay!) to be on Jeopardy!

2017: Digging into my writing

I attended the Making Things Happen Conference and made great progress in my writing from that. I started writing and editing for Take Up & Read. We went to Williamsburg and Duck for vacation!

2018: Working

I started sending out book proposals….and more proposals….and more proposals…..My brother got married!

2019: Gold, Jerry, Gold!

I got my contact with Ave Maria Press, wrote the book in about three months, and my sister got married in Colorado. I was in the hospital when my book cover was revealed and pre-orders opened! And I moved to Orchard House! Oh, and Dad and I went to a Blue Jackets playoff game—another thing I could check off my bucket list! :)

2020: The book!!

The book was published. I’m going to New York in April. And it’s my 15 year anniversary in July.

Also coming up: Seeing My Fair Lady with Dad in March!

Woooooo!

Seven Quick Takes--The Medical Saga Endeth (we think)

7 Quick Takes, CF, health, hearing loss, the bookEmily DeArdo1 Comment
seven quick takes.jpg

Linking up with Kelly!


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So, here’s a spicy take I wrote this week about Medicare!


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And here’s the follow up:

So, we got the great folks at the CFF involved (they have a team that just looks at insurance stuff). They came to the same conclusion we did: that there really is no plan that covers everything, but that hospitals and doctors and I will make it work. (think Cinderella’s sisters: “I’ll make it fit!”) NCH doesn’t normally have a lot of Medicare people (because, it’s a, um, Children’s hospital), but….”they’ll take it”, says the finance office. (Thank you finance office!)

What I kept hearing from everyone was “well, we haven’t had to deal with this before.” Yes, I am the one that is trail blazing for everyone else. Future generations, YOU ARE WELCOME! I expect copious floral arrangements on my grave and Masses offered after I die. :-p

So, my hospitals are (sort of) covered. My main doctors—as in, the Big Three—are covered. The next issue?

The Prograf (or, THE GRAF).


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The prograf is the med that basically keeps me alive. It keeps my lungs from realizing that they aren’t actually, um, the factory setting. :-D

Now, when I was emailing my nurse about this, she said, “Well, we can always try generic.”

“What do you mean?” quoth I. “Generic doesn’t work for me!”

“Well, the formulation is a lot better now, and the hospital is even considering switching its formulary to the generic,” nurse said.

AH! Well, that would solve problems!

Or….would it????

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So I go to the insurance site. I plug in generic prograf, expecting to see massive cost savings and ease of access!

Hahahaha.

NO.

Generic Prograf is covered—but as a tier 4 med, meaning it’s like, non-preferred, no one wants to use it, and then I see, oh, step therapy may be applied.

Step therapy, for you new people, is when you have to try other drugs first before the company will pay for the med you want.

Yeah, we’re not doing that with the drug that keeps me alive.

So, what we’re going to do is go through prior authoritzation stuff, and we won’t have to pay out the nose, because I qualify for the Medicare Extra Help program (which is a great thing, so kudos there), so we can’t pay more than a certain very low amount.

So.

I have picked a plan. The saga is over. (For this year!)


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In other news, my tree is up, and Susan the Corgi is ready to celebrate….

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And I think I’m doing buying gifts. That’s exciting. :)

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I had my first book interview on Wednesday with the delightful Fr. Patrick, O.P. We talked for forty-five minutes about all sorts of good stuff! The interview probably won’t be up until January, but when it is, I’ll let you know! I’ll be posting all media related to the book on the book’s page. . (And pre-order links, to a variety of retaliers, are there are well! Amazon US, Canada, and UK; Barnes and Noble; Indiebound….)

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Just a note about what Kelly wrote about today—how we tell the stories of the disabled.

One of the things I’ve noticed, especially as the practice euthanasia almost on demand rises, is that people don’t really understand life with a disability, or an illness. They think they do. They imagine the horrors of it.

But honestly, that isn’t the way it works.

When I lost my hearing, it was very gradual, over a period of years. It was gradual. Now, if I’d lost it all at once, yes, that would’ve been traumatic, and highly so.

Did I grieve losing my hearing? Um, yes. A lot.

But when it came to CF stuff, it was gradual. I still enjoyed my life, and I do enjoy my life, even with insanely stressful weeks like this week.

Being disabled makes things harder, but it doesn’t make my life worthless or less.



Living in a World of Octobers

family, journalEmily DeArdo2 Comments
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On Saturday Mom and Dad and I went to Granville, a small town about a half hour from where we live, and spent the afternoon there. There were delicious juicy burgers, parents with their kids, custard, some sketching (yay!), and delights at a stationery store.

October has been particularly beautiful this year in Ohio, and I’m glad that despite everything else that’s going on and driving me crazy, that the beauty is all around and there to be enjoyed and drunk up.

(Isn’t that last picture a shot of stereotypical small town America? School bus, church, changing leaves….)

Seven Quick Takes--the 60th of September

7 Quick Takes, Catholicism, CF, health, Seven Quick Takes, the book, transplant, writingEmily DeArdo2 Comments
seven quick takes.jpg

Linking up with Kelly!

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In case you missed it, here’s what’s been going down around these parts this week:

Simplicity Series #1—Reset Day!

Stitch Fix Box #8!


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The reason this post is entitled the 60th of September is because this month has seemed insanely long. Isn’t there a song called “Wake Me Up When September Ends?” That’s how I feel right now. It’s just been so long. And sort of crazy.

One of the big crazy-making things is that I’m in the middle of Doctor Roulette, which I really haven’t written about here, so I probably need to catch you up.


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(If you’re not interested in medical stuff, skip this and go to point four, where I talk about BOOK THINGS!)

So, being post-transplant, and being fourteen years out, is….interesting. Obviously, I am INSANELY GRATEFUL to be at that marker. I am. Never think I’m not. But at the same time, it’s a Brave New World of Medical Stuff, because it’s rare. So when things happen, there’s not a lot of research to go on. There’s just…..talking. And guessing. And seeing what works.

Essentially, all summer we have been messing with insulin, because my blood glucose levels have been off. (I”m trying to keep this as medical jargon free, but when I say this, what I mean is my A1c, not my BGLs. If you’re confused, I can explain in another post, so let me know if you want that much detail into my life!)

So my team decided to put me on some long-acting insulin.

But……that didn’t work. First, it didn’t lower my BGLs, which I was testing twice a day, and second, insulin is a hormone. That means it can affect lots of parts of your body.

For me, that meant—headaches. Not sleeping. Weight gain (DAMN IT), and insanely inappropriate mood reactions. If Big Ben threw an interception I wanted to break things. If someone parked next to me at the supermarket, I became incandescently angry.

This is not appropriate.

And the scariest part for me? Forgetting things. Words. Ideas. What I was doing. This is not good. I rely on my brain, and words are my trade. I can’t be forgetting them! I need to be mentally sharp.

(But you’re never mentally sharp, Emily, says the peanut gallery….)

I did some digging and found out that when you have too much insulin—as in, you have WAY too much, and your body doesn’t need it—this is what happens.

And this is the problem. My body is weird. Not just the transplant weird, but weird for a CF person. I’m what’s called “pancreatically sufficient”, which is rare. It means my pancreas works like a normal person’s, not like a CF person’s. I don’t need to take enzymes to help digest my food, because my pancreas does it. I never had CF related diabetes.

And my A1c starting rising once I hit menopause—so there’s probably a connection there as well.

So, long story short, my team is sort of confused, and I’m seeing an endocrinologist the day before Halloween. That’s one reason I haven’t been writing as much this month, because things have just been crazy, but also my body has been through a lot, and I’m trying to be nice to it. Which means, chilling out, after all the non chilling out. :-P

There are some other issues, too, mainly that I don’t have a great track record when seeing endos, because they look at me and go, you’re really messed up, what do you want me to do about it?

But anyway, that’s at the end of October. Yay.


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in the meantime!

BOOK THINGS!

People are starting to ask for interviews, which is….weird. I mean, good, but weird.

The cover is 99% done. I’ve seen it. I can’t show you yet. If you want to be the first to see it, subscribe to the blog!

It’s really pretty, I like it. :)


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Hockey season starts soon and this makes me very happy!


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I am going on retreat next week, so if you have prayer requests, I am honored to take them with me! Drop them in the combox, or use the contact page.


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If you haven’t seen the Word on Fire team’s newest entries in their Pivotal Players series—Fulton Sheen and Flannery O’Connor—I highly recommend them! They’re great! Flannery is a really important influence for me, in how to live as a Catholic and a writer, and I write this quote from her at the beginning of all my journals:


I feel that if I were not a Catholic, I would have no reason to write, no reason to see, no reason ever to feel horrified or even enjoy anything. I am a born Catholic, went to Catholic school in my early years, and have never left or wanted to leave the Church. I have never had the sense that being a Catholic is a limit to the freedom of the writer, but just the reverse. … I feel myself that being a Catholic has saved me a couple of thousand years in learning to write. (The Habit of Being *)


So I love the Flannery film. It was also nice to learn more about soon to be Blessed Fulton Sheen—I had read some of his books, and I knew of him, but the film does a great job fleshing out what I knew.

(Also, in a nice twist, a college friend of mine composed the music for both films. Go Sean!)

And I really don’t think we can improve on Fulton and Flannery, do you? :) Have a great weekend!

*==Amazon Affiliate Link



Amber

CF, essaysEmily DeArdo4 Comments
“The Song of the Lark”

“The Song of the Lark”

Amber has joined my buddy Sage.

It’s sort of funny. It used to be that CF kids knew each other more than I did—we’d have wards and camps and so people had lots of CF friends. I never did, because that was all on the way out when I was diagnosed. I knew one kid from my first admission—Elvis (yes, that’s his name)—but I never saw him again after those two weeks of my first admit. (Although, in a strange twist of fate, one of my best college friends was from his hometown, and his mom was his teacher.)

There was Jenny, my freshman year of college—we were on the same dorm floor. I don’t know what happened to her.

But post transplant, I met more people with CF. Sage. Piper. People on Facebook. Kathleen. And Amber.

Unlike Sage, I had met Amber several times. She was the second transplant at our center (I was first, a fact that was a bee in her bonnet for awhile. Cracked me up.). She was younger than me, around my brother’s age (she was born in 1986). She’d been diagnosed with CF the normal way—as a little kid—but she lived nearer the Toledo center so that’s where she got her CF treatment.

We were both writers—she wrote a book called Breathtaking about her experience—and we both went to small Ohio colleges. (She had started at Cedarville University, but couldn’t finish because she got too sick, and eventually graduated from Moody Bible College.) She had a husband and they had adopted a little boy named Noah. He started preschool this month.

Amber had been in rejection for about two years, but she was a force. I mean, I’d never met anyone who was so unapologetic about herself, her life, her goals. She just told you whatever she thought, right out. “You can’t say that to people!” I”d tell her.

“Why not?”

Eventually, some of this rubbed off on me in dealing with our doctors. Ha.

She was just so unapologetically her. Honest, open, passionate, feisty. You always knew what she thought. But she wasn’t mean. She was just open in a way that a lot of people aren’t.

For two years she’d been driving from her home in northwest Ohio to get treatments at The Resort, to try to keep herself alive. There was talk of listing her for a second transplant.

I last saw her in July, at clinic. Clinic days are Mondays and so generally you tend to see other pre and post transplant patients at the same time in the halls and labs and in outpatient radiology. We got to catch up a bit, which was nice, because we hadn’t in awhile. She was carrying around a portable oxygen tank (when I say portable, it really was—it could be slung over your shoulder like a purse), but she was still fiery. Still giving me crap for wearing a skirt to the doctor’s. :-p “Comfort!” She said. And she was right, but I told her I preferred to use my feminine wiles to make the doctors do what I want. I was kidding, and she knew it, and we laughed about it.

I had seen on Instagram that she had missed an outing with her son to the zoo on Labor Day. But I thought she was okay. I have a news feed filter on my facebook app—basically, i don’t see scrolling updates anymore—so I had completely missed that she had been admitted with pneumonia and they had bronched her and she was in the ICU while they figured out a long-term plan.

I messaged her on Wednesday, to ask her a question about treatment. It was my brother’s birthday.

I got from his birthday dinner that night to find a message from her husband—Amber had died on Monday morning.

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I don’t know why I’m alive, still, and Sage and Amber aren’t. Part of it is the idea that their journey, what God wanted them to do with their lives, was “complete”, I guess. And I’m not done. Which, I mean, is fine, I like being alive. But why me? Why not them too? Why are their husbands widowers, why is Noah without a mom, why did George the dog never see Sage come home? Why? Why do my siblings get to have me, and their siblings don’t?

I don’t know. I know God knows, I know He has his reasons, but I don’t know how much that really helps right now.

In Amber’s case, she had almost fourteen extra years. Her transplant anniversary was September 25. In those fourteen years, she wrote her book, she traveled to speak, she got married, she adopted Noah. She had extra time that she never would’ve had other wise.

But she was still only 33. Sage got an extra year of life, she had a wonderful husband and family and the sweet pups and even sweeter nieces and nephews.

I’m older than both of them.

A lot of people, post transplant, experience the feeling that they need to live for their donor. That they’re sort of entrusted with continuing the donor’s life as well as their own.

I never really felt that—probably because my donor was older, so it wasn’t like another 23 year old had died. (I’m not denigrating my donor’s gift, obviously! OBVIOUSLY. Just trying to explain how I feel.)

But I do feel, now, like I’m living for them. Sometimes I know Sage wants me to do something, to be brave and to ride it out.

And now I’ll feel Amber yelling at me to be honest and tell them how I really feel and figure stuff out, dang it. To just do x.

Both Amber and Sage had strong faith. I know that they’re happy. (I mean, one has to be happy when beholding the beatific vision, right?)

But gosh, I miss them both.

Doing The Best You Can With What You Have

CF, health, transplantEmily DeArdo1 Comment
Under the Wave off Kanagawa (Kanagawa oki nami ura), also known as the Great Wave, from the series “Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji (Fugaku sanjurokkei)”

Under the Wave off Kanagawa (Kanagawa oki nami ura), also known as the Great Wave, from the series “Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji (Fugaku sanjurokkei)”

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, who, like me, has had some health problems. And we were talking about how the things you do to save your life can later come back and have unplanned consequences.

“I’m dealing with that right now,” I said. We talked a bit more about how frustrating this is—but then we asked, Would we have changed anything?

And the answer is, probably not.

So I thought I’d write about this.

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After my clinic visits, we always have to wait for blood test results. One of them that we’ve been watching lately is called the A1c, which I talked about in the last post. Basically, it’s a batting average for your blood sugar. And ever since I entered menopause it’s been going up….and up….and up.

This is not good. The more sugar is in your blood, the more that can lead to lots of problems. Problems that I don’t want.

This isn’t CF related diabetes, because my pancreas still works. (I don’t take enzymes to digest my food, so that’s how we know….) But at the same time, my body is clearly becoming insulin resistant.

I’ve been on steroids for 14 years. So the thought is that steroids + menopause=unhappy A1c.

Now, I can’t go off steroids. I’m on a low dose—5 mg a day. There is a 2.5 mg dose. And I might try that. But the problem is, my body has adjusted to them, and my joints, especially like prednisone. A lot. I had CF related arthritis before my transplant and that is helped a lot by the prednisone. I notice when I miss a dose. So when I tried to go off prednisone a few years ago, my body said, “nope.”

Why am I on prednisone? Because I had a transplant.

Which saved my life.

But we know that prednisone has a lot of side effects.

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Another area where side effects come to play? Cancers. We’ve talked about that a lot here.

And, not pred related, but med related—my hearing loss.

So, these are all things that have happened as a result of staying alive.

But—what were my choices?

Well, to take the meds, or die. Really. It was that stark, in a lot of cases.

So I decided to take the meds. And live with the side effects.

And that can be sort of sucky, to be honest. Because you do things to save your life, but then…there are consequences, and you have to be ready to deal with those. It’s a long-term gamble.

But, and I said this to my friend, we do the best we can with the information we have. We can’t think about 5, 10, 15 years down the road when we’re looking down the barrel of the gun right now.

If you’re in that situation, I know how you feel. I know it’s hard not to google and think about the future. But really, in my opinion, the best thing to do is to talk to your doctors, see what the options are, and then go with what is best—for you, for the situation, for what needs to happen to achieve a good outcome.

Does that mean you’ll be thrilled with what you have to do? Well, no. I’m not thrilled that I’m injecting myself with five units of insulin every night. But it could be worse.

This is what I have to do to stay alive—to see year 15, year 16, year 17….post-transplant.

Now, are there things I won’t do? Yeah. I’ve always said I wouldn’t go for a third transplant. That, to me, is a bridge too far.

But right now, I take the insulin, I adjust my diet, and I do the best I can with what I have.

Day In the Life: Yearly Transplant Testing

CF, health, transplantEmily DeArdo1 Comment
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I thought that I’d give you a little glimpse into a day at clinic, but in order to get the most bang for your reading buck, I chose do chronicle a day where I do yearly testing—as in, clinic, blood draws, X-rays, CT scan, and a DEXA (bone density) screening. So come along with me on Monday’s trip….

6:30 am: Alarm goes off.

7:20 am: Out the door, to the hospital!

It’s not raining! Yay!

It’s not raining! Yay!


The hospital is only 12 miles away form my place, so that makes it easy to get there, but morning rush hour can be a beast. Fortunately, it’s not bad, and I get to the parking garage at 7:45, after being asked for the nth time if I’m a visitor. No, I am a patient. Deep sigh.

Excellent parking!

Excellent parking!

The hospital has a nature theme, so there are lots of animals and other nature-ish things around. In case you can’t tell, those big green things are acorns.

7:50: Heading to Crossroads Registration

dooooown the long hallways.

dooooown the long hallways.

I passed this bunny on the way in:

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Registration is in the middle of the hospital complex and sometimes it can be a pain. But there was a nice lady behind the desk, the kiosks worked, I had my wrist band, and was on my way to infusion for my first appointment….




Up we go!

Up we go!

The tower building used to be the main hospital—I’ve spent a lot of time here. :) The fourth floor (4AE) where infusion is is where the adult CF floor used to be. It’s where I almost died and it’s where I waited the night my transplant came.

The 4th floor is also home—or was—to the PICU. So yeah, the fourth floor has lots of great memories. (Seriously, some are good. Most are….not.)

It does, however, have a good vending machine.

Anyway!

8:00 Infusion

In the waiting room—Muppet Babies on TV.

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Great view, huh?

Great view, huh?

Since I was early, I got taken back early—yay!—into one of the rooms. Like I said, these used to be patient rooms. Now they’re smaller. Most of infusion is separated by walls and curtained off areas, but since I’m a transplant patient I go into an actual room.

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Sometimes infusions last for hours. Really, the reason I go to infusion isn’t to get meds, it’s to get my port accessed for blood draws. So the room has a bed, and the other areas have recliners, if you’re staying. I’m not. This is an in and out thing.

My great nurse comes in and sets things up….


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Fortunately no vitamin levels today, so only three tubes. We could not get that out of my veins. So—port!

The blurry part is the strips that have my ID number on them and get attached to various things when the blood goes to the lab.

And yes, everyone must wear PPE—personal protective equipment—when they access the port. Gowns, gloves, masks, and hair nets. It’s like we’re doing surgery here.

So, we’re running ahead of the game, but then my port decides to be dumb, so we have to wrestle with it for ten minutes, but finally it cooperates and we get the blood. Then we flush the line with saline and heparin, and de-access me. Yay!

I am free to go back down to the main floor!

Hallway out to the waiting room.

Hallway out to the waiting room.


Doooown we go.

Doooown we go.

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This used to be part of the old ER—the parking lot to the right is where we dropped me off the night of my transplant.

(Bunnies ahead!)

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This used to be “main” radiology, and the little hallway you see above used to run between radiology and the ER. This also used to be the main hospital through way—if you went to the end of this hallway you’d reach the main lobby. But I digress!

I’ve been coming to this part of the hospital for twenty-six years. It’s very familiar.

As is this hallway, but now they’re changing it! I don’t know what to do ! :-p




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8:40 AM: Chest X-ray

So I have my probably five millionth chest x-ray (that’s a conservative estimate), before which I ran into my post-transplant buddy Amber, who is also going to clinic. It’s always fun to see friends!

So, out of radiology, heading toward clinic, and passing the fish tank and the satellite gift shop.

(Yes. There are two gift shops)

Sharkbait!

Sharkbait!

Past the coffee bar….


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To the elevators, and up to good old fifth floor CF clinic! :) Also been coming through this door for 35 years. :)

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9:00 AM: Clinic

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This is where I spent the bulk of my time. On a “yearly” clinic day, everyone comes in: the doctors, the dietician, the social workers—and things get a little more in-depth. (Not so much on the doctor end, since I see him every three months.)

*The dietician asks me to talk about what I normally eat: meals and snacks. She’ll then give suggestions. Right now, we’re dealing with weight loss and the silly A1c levels (more on that in a bit), so we want to make sure I’m eating the right combination of things. She made some suggestions, I asked some questions, and it took about a half hour, probably. I really like the dietician so that helps. :)

*My Doctor. I see one of the two docs on the team every three months. This time, he was happy with how I was doing, and we talked about the A1c thing.

Basically, the A1c is a test that looks at how your blood processes sugar all the time—it’s like a batting average. It’s how much sugar “sticks” to your red blood cells. For normal people, you want it to be under 6% For post transplant people, you want it to be in the low 6%, because the prednisone we’re one messes with how our bodies process sugar. So we aren’t aiming for normal people normal, but abnormal normal. :)

I had been testing my blood glucose levels (BGLs) for a few months, and my doctor didn’t think my numbers were really all that bad. (Again, we’re looking at abnormal normal here. Not normal people. ) He did say that if my A1c was up, then we’d probably have to start me on a low-dose, long-acting form of insulin. It wasn’t really because I hadn’t done what they asked—I lost weight, I’m being more active, and I’m checking my BGLs—but because I’ve been on prednisone for 14 years, and I’m in menopause, which, as we know, messes with hormones like nuts.

But my Chest X-ray looked good, and my PFTs were up a point, so lung wise, things are great. Sinus wise, things are great. I’m seeing all my specialists like I’m supposed to and I keep clinic informed of things there.

My doctor wanted me to do some other PFTs so I had to go back to the lab, but we’ll get there in a second. :)

*Social Work: Normally, they just come in and ask how I’m doing and give me a parking token. Since I’m working with some insurance insanity right now, we had more to talk about and they are going to look into some things for me which is massively helpful. So I was happy!

Finally, Pulmonary Function Tests, aka, PFTs.

Normally, when I say I’m doing PFTs, what I mean is I’m doing spirometry. Aka, the thing where you sit down, put clamps on your nose, and breathe in through a tube connected to a computer. You breathe easily for a few breaths (for me it’s two) and then on the third you take in a huge breath, like you’re about to go underwater, then blow it out fast and hard.

You then get results that look like this:

swirly bit is blocked out personal info. :)

swirly bit is blocked out personal info. :)

Now, this is in liters, and I generally look at percentages. As of yesterday I had about 54% lung function, which is good for me, and that’s the “moderate restrictive defect” part. It’s not anything to worry about, it just says that at the bottom.

I also did two other kinds of tests which check how gases are diffused in my blood and other breathing related things. Those were also fine. So yay there.

11:00 Finished clinic, back to radiology!

I finished in clinic, said goodbye, and my nurse said she’d email me with follow-up things. I then headed back down the elevators,

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past the fish….



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And back to radiology.

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This was a bone density scan that did scans of everything—we did hip focus and lumbar focus, and then the whole body. This is important because prednisone (don’t we love it?!) also causes issues with bone density and causes osteoporosis. Fortunately my bones are AWESOME. I hope they continue to be awesome—I haven’t gotten these results back yet.

FINALLY, the LAST TEST!

11:45 am: Chest CT

so heading back through the center of the hospital, to the Magic Forest!

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And into the CT room:


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This is just a regular old CT scan of my lungs to make sure we’re not missing any small things that might be happening that regular X-rays don’t pick up. Easy peasy.


So I was free, and said goodbye to the bunny, at around 12:15!

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I was really hungry at this point, because I’d only had a little breakfast—you’re not supposed to eat a lot before clinic visits in case something scary shows up in testing and you have to have a bronchoscopy that day. (Yes, that has happened to me before.)

So I was hungry and had walked about a mile and a half, not kidding, in the halls of the hospital. I hit my move goal for the day at 3 PM, so I knew that I’d get a decent workout on this day, lol.

This used to be a longer day—there used to be more tests. So I’m fortunate that this was a pretty quick day and everything went well, except for the silly port being stupid! :)

Joy In the Morning (OR: How I get up every day and do life)

CF, essays, transplantEmily DeArdo2 Comments
My siblings and I on my brother’s wedding day.

My siblings and I on my brother’s wedding day.

Warning: This might be a sort of rambly post. Settle in.

I was visiting my therapist last week. Yes, I see a therapist. I have since I was 17. A lot of people with CF do (not all, but a lot). I have no shame in telling you that.

So anyway, I was at an appointment with my therapist, and we were talking about how I was a bit maxed out on doctor visits. I mean, in almost thirty-seven years of life, I think my quota’s been hit, right?

And that doesn’t even count the other “stuff” we do—Mom accessing my port every month, the meds I take (which are vastly less than pre-transplant, btw), the blood glucose tests I’m doing twice a day now, etc. It’s a lot. It’s less than pre-transplant in some ways, and more in others. I have a colonoscopy every five years, which means one next year. I have a mammogram in April, because my mom had breast cancer and so my sister and I have to start our mammograms at age 37 (ten years before Mom was diagnosed). And then there’s dentists and eye doctors and the things normal people do.

So, yeah, it’s a lot.

This led to talking about compliance, which means, doing what the doctors tell you to do. And I told a story that I thought was illustrative.

When I was about seventeen, I was having a regular clinic visit, an I saw a sign on the wall of the exam room, saying that if you were 95% compliant with taking pulmozyme (one of the CF meds), you’d get a prize at your next clinic visit, see your nurse for a chart to win! Stuff like that.

Now, I never did these, because, generally, I was too old. This stuff was generally for the smaller kids, to get them in the habit. But what I thought was interesting was that the center wasn’t pushing perfect compliance.

Because that doesn’t exist.

Now, look, I’m not saying I was a slacker. Because I wasn’t. My mom, for one, wouldn’t let me be, even if I was disposed that way. I take my meds. I did my treatments. But yes, sometimes there were times where I put in a few minutes of precious sleep over a “perfect” Vest treatment, when I was in college. Sometimes I just went to bed. Not often, but sometimes. I wasn’t “perfect”, and I’m not perfect now. To be “perfect” now, I’d be a MESS. I’d be taking meds all day long, worrying about timings and if this was going to interact with that and how does this work and oh my gosh my brain is going to explode!

I take all my meds, and I take them twice a day. Is that perfect? Well, no. It’s not optimal. If can affect absorptions. *

But here’s the thing—I want a life. I don’t want to live in a glass bubble.

I went to school. I did activities. I rode bikes with my friends and went to the pool in the summer with them and then we went to the coffee shop and played board games. I had sleep overs, where I didn’t bring my equipment! I went on choir tour! (And yes, I brought the mini nebulizer!) I went to college.

Honestly, if my parents had tried to wrap me up in the bubble, I would’ve had a fit. I always wanted to be like everyone else, as much as possible. As Erin once said in a Home Town episode, I’m like a wild pony, and I need freedom!

(Not too much freedom. But enough freedom.)

So anyway, talking about all the things I had to do every day, my therapist then said, well, how do you do it? I mean, what gets you up in the morning?

And then I said, “well, that’s sort of what my book is about.” (Because it sort of is. Sort of. The book is sort of about a lot of things! )

But here’s what it comes down to:

Yes, there are a lot of things I have to do in my life. More than the average bear, that’s for sure, so when people say “well, you just have to suck it up and do X,” I want to roll my eyes, because that’s a big chunk of my day. (I’d wager it’s a large part of everyone’s day. As my grandfather used to say, “that’s why they call it work!”) But yeah, for me, and for other people like me, we have a lot of stuff on a daily basis that isn’t fun but must be done, and you just do it and don’t whine about it.

But what gets me up in the morning? Well, a lot of things. I’m very in touch with my inner child and I get excited about really little things. When I was working in the Senate, a lunch date with my Dad was enough to make me excited for the day. Today, it’s stuff like, a package is coming in the mail! It’s a hockey night in Pittsburgh! I get to write today! Oh, this book comes out! My book is in at the library! Chuy’s with Mary!

I’m very easily amused. And that helps me, I think, because it overrides a lot of other things that are not so fun. (Like making myself go to the gym. And poking my fingers. And doing doctor paperwork.)

But a big part of this, and this is what I’d say to anyone facing a chronic illness, is this:

Go live your life!

You really, really, really cannot hole up in your house and be all sheltered. You can’t. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. Go outside! Do things! Be free! Have fun! Go to the park! Go swimming! Pet a dog! Whatever!

Yes, treatments are vital. YES, compliance is important—if I hadn’t been a compliant patient I NEVER would’ve been listed for transplant! But if you’re caught up in PERFECT, then…..you’re going to miss things and your life will be so small.

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Seriously. Do what the sign says.

Live your life. Take your brain with you.

*: As far as absorptions: the only meds I take that NEED to be taken around the same time every day are my immunosuppressants (the prograf). That’s important. However, I am also far enough out that if I’m off by a few hours in a dose, the world will not end. When I traveled to LA, my nurses told me to just take the meds on LA time and not worry about being exact. I used to take my meds exactly at 8 AM and 8 PM (even rushing to the lobby of the Ohio Theater to take meds before a symphony concert started). Now, it’s generally around those times. I’m not quite as OCD.

The meds I’m talking about here are things like my nexium and magnesium supplements. You’re not, really, supposed to take them together. But if I didn’t, then I’d be carrying around meds all day and thinking about when to take them, as opposed to thinking about things more worthy of my brain space! It’s not a huge deal to take them together. But yes, some meds do have to be taken at certain times, and when I do those (like home IVs) then, yes, it’s on the dot as much as possible. You usually have about an hour leeway on either side of the dose time (for example, if the dose is due at 6 PM, you can do it at 5 or 7, but not 4 or 8.)