Thoughts of a Well-Intentioned Blogger on New Year's Eve

I had the very best of intentions when I began this blog. After all, writers write, right? (we won't discuss how long it's been since my last installment here). But after many years of writing only for myself, and then somehow stumbling into writing novels, I've guarded my words carefully. It's daunting at times, throwing your words out there in the world for anyone and everyone to read. They might have meaning to some, but for every person who thanks you for those words, there's a bully, an internet troll, or just a general jerk to tell you that you stink. I should know by now to ignore the bullies, trolls, and jerks though because that's part of life, but I find myself occasionally hurt by their words because I'm sensitive. I'm a writer. I feel deeply...about most everything. So, I guard my words carefully, and I gather them up and protect them from the world, and I squander them. And I get sidetracked...more easily than I'd like to admit. So I don't make an ideal blogger. I've determined now, at least for me, that the word BLOG means that I don't post frequently "Because Life Often Gets...in...the...way."

I don't post often and I don't even care to. But, when I do, I really have something to say. I mean, kudos to all those people who publish daily blogs and pictures and recipes and helpful ideas, but it's just not my thing. But, by all means, you bloggers go ahead and keep doing what you do!

So, here I am on New Year's Eve, and I have all these thoughts racing through my mind. Like, why didn't I publish a book during this calendar year? Well, I've realized that life really does get in the way of writing, but also in the way of thinking...and creating. And I refuse to force words just to put something between the cover of a book. Hopefully my readers will understand that and will happily welcome my next installment into the Rose series with open arms. I want her story to be intriguing and unique and realistic, so I won't ruin it with words that don't come easily.

This year has been unique for me in many ways. I am continually met with new challenges from my autoimmune disorder (Mixed Connective Tissue Disease  - MCTD) and some days I can't bring myself to accomplish much. Honestly, that gets in the way of my writing, too. And I hate that my physical limitations can mess with the words that my heart, soul, and mind work so diligently to create. Such is life though...we all have a cross of some kind to bear, and I accept that this is mine. Maybe when I don't feel like creating as many words it causes me to hoard them even more. But, I vow to be kind to my body, and to not mentally flog myself when I don't feel like pounding out pages and pages of manuscript.

Another thought about this year is of all the celebrity losses. Us creative types are admiring of each others' works. For example, I seldom write without listening to music, and the musical losses of this year have been been astounding. It saddens me to know that there will be no new lyrics from these people...no new songs for me to leave on repeat as I write my next novel. People like me take these losses personally, even though we had no actual personal connection to those artists.

My husband, Joel, and I at Edinburgh Castle in July 2016

However, despite my challenges and losses, this year surprised me with the opportunity to travel. I almost declined the offer because I wasn't sure I could endure the long walks, hurried airport dashes from gate to gate, and physical demands that come with travel abroad. Somehow, my husband assured me I could make it, and so I booked the ticket. Oh, how glad I am that I did. I celebrated my 20th wedding anniversary with roses and a view of the Edinburgh Castle from my hotel window.




Later that evening, we visited chilly but beautiful Portobello Beach, had champagne by the coast

and surprisingly met up with the ever lovely Nicola who we had only talked to online until that night.

 I walked the streets of Edinburgh this summer, met friends in Dublin with whom I'd had online conversations with for over a decade at an Elvis Costello concert

and even had lunch with Rita, who was surprisingly in the same area of Dublin at the same time.

I visited the Edinburgh Writer's Museum...a religious experience for anyone who feels the need to put thoughts into words.






I winced in pain as I climbed those tiny concrete stairs in that beautiful building, but I did it with pride.



















And I cried as I stood before the desk of Robert Burns, and I cried again when I went back to see it two days later.














You see, Mr. Burns is one of my favorite people. And as I stood there in my Rosy Tieks, next to his words and next to his statue, I felt a giant of a man next to my tiny feet.                                                                       

 

He wrote Auld Lang Syne, the traditional song sung every New Year's Eve...a song I often refer to in my books. Since he and I were born a few centuries apart, seeing his belongings was as close of a meeting with him as I'll ever get.

I visited Trinity College Library in Dublin, saw The Book of Kells,










and lost my breath temporarily upon entering The Long Room.

Another love of mine, though strange to some, is visiting cemeteries. Some day, I'll finally publish that book I've been working on. Anyhow, I visited several lovely resting places in Edinburgh and Dublin. Some of the tombstones were literal works of art, as well as the gardens which surrounded them. I walked and walked and walked. Worth every ounce of discomfort that my body experienced to be in the presence of these places, and I'll cherish the pictures that I took...with my camera, as well as with my mind. So, even at my age, I find myself still learning and growing. I think the day we stop that process is the day we truly die, even if our bodies are still alive. At least growing pains mean I'm still growing, and my physical pain serves to remind me that I'm still alive to feel that pain.






















As for new year resolutions, well, I hate that crap. More often than not, they  fade away with the presence of February. I want to make lasting promises to myself that I have a chance of actually keeping. Like, I promise to myself in this next year to be more open to all the things I might be unknowingly closing myself off from. For instance, if I hadn't pushed myself to travel, I would have lost out on so many experiences, like the conversation I had with the wonderful lady at the antique store who, after I told her of my books and my main character, Rose, offered a gift of this vintage bracelet.




And I wouldn't have experienced this flurry of feathered friends in St. Stephen's Green, when a local gentleman introduced me to the park's most welcoming residents.

By the way, thank you, John, for all your Irish hospitality. Our visit was so much more special because of the generous amount of time you spent showing us John Foyle's Dublin...










There will always be loss and heartache, but there will also always be good to look forward to. Enjoy it, and cling to it when it comes to you. I wish for myself to open up my heart and soul more so I can experience more good times, even when I doubt myself, and so I can share more words more frequently, even when life gets in the way. And I wish for you all in the coming year whatever good things you hope for and need in your lives. As always, peace and love to you all...

And Then There's This...

Life is a struggle. For all of us. Every single day.

I almost posted to Facebook yesterday that it was one year to the date that I was diagnosed with Mixed Connective Tissue Disorder (MCTD), which is something that I struggle with every day.. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided not to talk about it...not on that one year mark. I'll explain why in a moment.

It's difficult for someone like me who happens to remember the dates of just about everything that ever happened in my past. Drives my husband Joel crazy. He knows all the "anniversaries" of past events that I remember and, bless him, he keeps them in a Google calendar so he can always empathize, sympathize, or celebrate each of them with me since he could never remember them all on his own. I don't live in the past, but where I've been and all I've been through help define who I am now. Some memories are wonderful, some...not so much. Sometimes it's simply a measure of how far I've come or that I've finally let go of something that has been holding me back. Remembering where you've been is important in realizing where you are now, and also looking forward to where you're going.

I was devastated last summer when I went to my doctor, thinking my lack of energy and constant achy muscles could be addressed with some thyroid meds and a frank reminder of my age (I have one of those milestone birthdays coming up in a few days). Instead, my sweet doctor (and despite the fact that I absolutely hate going to the doctor...any doctor) went through the results of my blood work with me one page at a time. "Your cholesterol is excellent, you have no signs of heart disease, liver and kidneys look good, your glucose is perfect. These pages of your blood work are worthy of a picture frame."

So I sat there thinking, "then why do I feel so horrible all the time?" I had begun to think it was all in my imagination. Or that maybe everyone else was just growing older more gracefully than I was.

And then she came to the very last page. I should have known something was up when they had taken so many vials of blood, but I trust my physician and her acute sense of people's problems, not to mention her awesome women's intuition, so I was sure she had my best interests at heart. And she did, I just didn't like the results.

"And then there's this."

She handed me the last page which bore the results of a test I was certain no doctor had ever ran on me. It was an Antinuclear Antibody (ANA) test. And it was positive. When you have an autoimmune disorder, your immune system  mistakes healthy cells for intruders and attacks them. I blanked out for a moment because I'm a bit prone to panic. That's one of the reasons I love Joel so much - he knows that, and always offers to go to the doctor with me if I want him to. I remember hearing words, but I mentally sort of shut down for a minute while she continued to talk. When I came back around, I still saw her there in front of me, telling me that it would be okay. It didn't really hit me until I got home and read more about MCTD just what she had said. Of all the years I had suspected problems beyond what any doctor wanted to help me find out about myself, she was finally the one who rescued me. No, I didn't like what she said, but she did rescue me because she finally gave me an answer. An answer to all my years of questions about so many physical problems I'd had. And it doesn't sound like a big deal, but when you have doctors turn you away and tell you that "you're overreacting" or "there's nothing wrong with you" it tends to break you down over time.

So I did exactly what Joel often tells me not to do...I started researching on the internet. The web is a wonderful thing...at times. But Joel will be the first to tell you that it isn't always the best place to go. And he has a Ph.D. in computer science. I read and read and read, but at least I had an answer this time. It wasn't like I was trying to diagnose myself like I'd been trying to do for years because no doctor had been able to. I had an explanation, and honestly, it was rather liberating. After years of wondering, I could finally address it head on. I could learn what to do and what not to do. I could learn which foods were good for me and which foods aggravated my condition. I didn't have to worry and wonder anymore, just learn. Many people aren't familiar with MCTD, so if you aren't bored out of your mind by now, I'll tell you a little about it.

It's actually more of an overlap disease because it contains signs and symptoms of a combination of disorders — mainly lupus, scleroderma and polymyositis. The symptoms of the separate diseases usually happen over several years' time and don't appear all at once, often making diagnosis complicated  In later stages, the lungs, heart and kidneys  may be affected or possibly fail, so my doctor keeps constant watch on my organs. There is fatigue, fever, Raynaud's phenomenon where fingers feel cold or numb, swollen hands, and, the worst for me, muscle and joint pain. There is no known risk factor, no known cause, and unfortunately, no cure. But, now that we know, we can keep a watch on my organs and manage any other medications that can help keep me healthy. Many people with MCTD often suffer from depression because of their aches and pains and inability to do what they want and need to do. And that's why I chose not to mention all this yesterday.

When the news of Robin Williams' death came out, so many people thought they had all the answers. Some even condemned him for taking his own life. The truth is, unless you've ever experienced those feelings, you have no idea what it's like. I've never wanted to take my own life, but I've always been an anxious sort of person, and panicky, and sometimes easily depressed. And it is easy to be down about a condition like this, but I realized yesterday that I'm very fortunate. I have a doctor who took all my questions and finally, FINALLY, turned them into answers. And she makes sure that I have whatever I need to live a healthy life to the best of my ability without suffering more than necessary. MCTD is sometimes referred to as one of the "invisible diseases." People who have it don't look like they're sick, so I might look okay on the outside, and really feel sore and miserable inside. But I have a physician and a family that watch out for me, and help care for me. I have help for a disease that does depress me, but I'm living a good life. I'm finally living out my dream of writing, and other than days when my fingers are too tired to keep up with the ideas rapidly running through my head, I can type without much pain.

 So rather than look at yesterday as the big one year mark since my diagnosis and feel burdened, I chose to be happy. Thankfully, deep down, I am a naturally happen person, despite all I've been through and all that I am still going through. At least now I have answers. I have a wonderful doctor. I have a loving family, gracious and caring friends, and readers who enjoy my work. It's not always easy to see things that way, but when you notice someone else who could no longer deal with the sadness that life often brings, it makes you appreciate all the good that we often miss. I couldn't make it if it weren't for all the love I feel from those around me.

Life is a struggle. For all of us. Every single day. Take the time to give a hug, or a compliment, or a kind word, or even a pat on the back to someone near you. We all need it, we all want it. And you never know when that kindness might just be the thing that keeps someone from doing the unthinkable.