And one year has passed.

Day before yesterday was the one year anniversary of my decompression surgery.  I wanted to blog, but I didn't.  It just felt like another day.  I wish I could say I've had miraculous progress since I posted last, but I haven't.

Now, more than ever before, I realize how much the weather affects me.  Not only to my symptoms get worse when the barometer changes, but I live for sunshine.  I was not built to live in the Pacific Northwest, not even close.  The temperature hasn't climbed above 80 at all where I live, and days in the 70s are few and far between.  I'm from Michigan, the land of sweltering heat and freezing cold winters.  I find Washington's weather to be so apathetic.  Knowing and recognizing how much I love summer, and love sunshine, has helped on the days I feel like punching everyone and everything in the face.  I realize that the sun isn't shining, and know that part of my frustration lies in that fact.

It's hard to believe one year ago I was still in intensive care furiously pushing my pain med button.  It has been such an uphill battle, and continues to be.  I still struggle with a lot of symptoms.  But I have to believe having the surgery was the right choice.  Had I not, my brainstem would still be being crushed and deformed, causing who knows how many other symptoms.

So I'll keep on keeping on, trying to function as best as I can every day.  I am thankful for the pieces of sunshine I do get in life, literally and figuratively.

A good article

Here's an article a friend sent me - it's really worth reading.

Thanks for the encouraging comments, friends.  It's nice to know people still read this!

Late night post - a shortie

I will post just a bit, it's late and I've had a long day.

Sometimes I go to the gym and I feel this terrible bubbling of envy.  I see people sweating buckets, working their tails off.  I see people who can do back-to-back classes.  I see women wearing these perfect workout outfits, and looking amazing doing so.

I think that's my biggest frustration - I am not able to exercise how I want to, and it frustrates me.  I suppose frustrate doesn't quite capture it.  It pisses me off.  It makes me sad.  It makes me discouraged.  I want to be that person sweating it out, running, pushing my body to make it better.  But it seems many days all I can do is make my body get up and out of bed.

It is coming up on one year since surgery.  I can't even believe it.  It seems so long ago, yet so close.  I refuse to believe I went through such a traumatic event and will not feel better.  It has to get better.  It HAS to.

New research

I have been searching for more information these past few weeks. Last night my husband and I talked about the possibility of me having a second surgery... There is no reason for me to thnk I need another surgery except for the fact I am not better. I have found no relief so far, and to say that is frustrating is an under statement.

I read a lot of chiari blogs, but most are outdated, last posts being 2009. This spring has been hard, the pressure changes really make my aches and pains worse.

What now? I do not know. Bt I have promised myself I will blog more, if not to keep everyone updated than to at least document for my own memory.

Slow times

I started this blog last June.  In a way, it seems like a lifetime ago.  And I suppose in a way it is.  Since then I have had brain surgery.  Brain surgery!  Sometimes I have to say it outloud, and it still feels surreal.

I wish I could tell you I'm cured.  I wish I could say, "Man, I can't believe I used to feel so terrible!"  But I can't say that.  I have to believe I went through surgery for a reason, there is no way I went through such an ordeal for nothing.  But I have yet to feel any better.


The miserable have no other medicine
But only hope.
~William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

Wait... What...?

It's been a long time since I've posted.  Two months almost.  I've been having my ups and downs, which is to be expected I suppose.

I'm having a lot of memory trouble.  Not just like, "Oh, what did I come into the kitchen for?"  More like driving almost all the way home from work and trying desperately to remember if I unplugged the space heater...  Can't remember, so I drive all the way back to check (to discover that I indeed unplugged it).  It's hard to explain, it's like there's completely zero memory of something happening.  There are some things that totally don't stay in my mind, even if I did it just minutes ago.  It's frightening.  It's hard to work with that problem.  I don't know when I should be concerned.  It takes a lot of effort for me to recall things, just every day things.  Like what I'm wearing without looking down to see.  Like if I gave the dogs their fishoil with their breakfast.  All these little things that I suppose are fairly insignificant, but add up to be a huge part of my day.

I know everyone has forgetful moments.  I get that.  But I don't feel like I'm 'sharp.'  Honestly, I feel kind of stupid.  I feel spacey and like I'm always one step behind everyone else.  I've never felt stupid before, but when I really think about it, that's what I'm feeling.  Will this go away?  Am I permanently memory-challenged?