It's been a long 3 months

It's 1:29 a.m. I am siting in bed with a heating pad, under 3 comforters, sipping Theraflu in much the same manner that a connoisseur may enjoy a fine vintage wine. My husband is snoring (rather loudly - I can easily hear him through my industrial strength earplugs!) on my left. On my right is Lola, looking none too pleased that I've disturbed her beauty sleep by switching on my bedside lamp.

The last few months have been exciting but exhausting. My sister-in -law J. has been staying with us for the past 4 months as she prepared to take the American National Board of Dentistry Exams. For the past 3 weeks, my parents have been visiting us from India. We've also moved house, visited Seattle and Mt. Rainier, and done a family trip to Vegas and the Grand Canyon. As I said, exhilerating, but so exhausting.

During this time I've gone through many ups and many downs. Sometimes, the fatigue got too much for me. And I would feel trapped. Frustrated. Imprisoned in my own body. My soul yearned to soar, but instead I would wave goodbye from the hotel room as everyone else went for a hike or to the casinos. And I would wonder what I had done to deserve this.

But each time this happens, I now take myself back to my trip to the Mt Rainier National Park. When we went to visit Seattle, Mt Rainier wasn't even on our 'places to visit' list. My husband almost had to drag me there. And now, I thank him for it everyday. Memories of Rainier have become my own personal place of peace.

I don't think I can ever explain the overwhelming sense of peace and 'rightness' that I felt sitting in those mountains surrounded by trees and brooks, no soul or sign of civilization in sight. Just a magnificent snow covered active volcano forming a glorious backdrop to an endless panorama of hills covered with green trees. In that moment, all my concerns and worries and stresses just disappeared. All that mattered was the nature around me and the contentment within me.

Rainier changed me in a fundamental way. Now, when things threaten to overwhelm me, I just transport myself back to those hills, overlooking a vista of pine trees and lakes, and nothing seems important any more in face of such majestic natural beauty.

For the first time in my life, I didn't care about work or studies, diamonds or cashmere. All I needed was a pair of jeans and the people I love around me. And even though I couldn't do the 15 mile hike that I would have loved to do, the rangers helped me find a hike that was 1/10th of a mile and being able to complete this gave me more joy than you can possibly imagine.

I think that all of us, especially those of us struggling like a condition with CFS/FM have to find our own personal Rainier. A place which is always inviting, where we can be ourselves and lose all the accumulated despair and frustration. A places that renews and re-energizes us. A place that makes us thankful for all the things - big and small- that we already have in our lives and perhaps do't give enough importance to.

I hope those of you that follow this blog have already found such a place (I would love to hear abt these), and I strongly urge the rest of you to find your Rainier. It will give you more joy than you can imagine!

Choices...

I do have a choice.

I can stay home, make sure I eat on time, get enough rest, and pray that I remain well (still no guarantees there).

Or I can go to a friends place, out dancing or to play pool, and almost certainly be bedridden with terrible muscle pains and excruciating fatigue for the following week or so.

It's not much of a choice, but still...

I was feeling so much better when I got back from India that my husband and I planned a 5-day vacation in Los cabos, Mexico. The place was gorgeous, the people were fun, the resort was exquisite, and I was sicker than I've ever been in my life.

I tried so hard to be 'good'. I rested when my husband was out playing beach volleyball. I ate every 2 hrs to keep up my strength. I made sure I got enough sleep. Still, by the time we had to fly back to San Francisco, I was so ill that, for the first time in my life, I had to ask for a wheelchair at the airport.

I always knew that a wheelchair is a good idea for me when there are long distances to walk, but I could never get myself to go in one. It may be physically more comfortable, but emotionally and psychologically I felt it would be too difficult for me. I couldn't bear the idea of having to rely on a wheelchair at 30. It would be like the final step to giving in to CFS.

But last month, I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand, speak or even think. The fatigue was unbearable. So, when my husband asked for a wheelchair, I sat in it.

I think it was almost as difficult for my husband to see me in the wheelchair as it was for me to be in one. I could see how close to tears he was as he pushed my chair.

The airport staff was incredibly nice and helpful. But when one of them wanted to get me a doctor I tried to explain CFS to him. The surprise on his face when I told him that a doctor couldn't help, that no one knew what was happening to me or that I couldn't know when I'd suddenly collapse again, made me realize again what a strange illness we live with.

I have gotten used to CFS. At least I thought I had. Almost everyone who knows me now understands the illness somewhat, but it's when I try to explain the condition to someone new, that the true horror of CFS dawns me.

I'm tired of being tired. Of having swollen eyes and and an exhausted smile in every photo. Of the uncertainty. And most of all, I'm tired of not being able to be independent.

I wonder when it'll all be ok again.

Travelling divas

A very dear friend of mine - Smita - has just started a new travel company for women from India who want to see the world.

Her travel packages are exclusively for women, safe, easy on the pocket, and bound to be great fun! She is currently offering 2 packages - to Bali & to Malaysia.

Do check out her website: http://www.travellingdivas.in/

...and let all your friends know abt it too!

Thanks! :)