The past seven years have been tough. Out of nowhere a string of crazy, strange and serious health problems emerged and now that I am on the other side I am wondering what in the hell just happened to me? And Why?
Everything started around seven years ago. I had just left Los Angeles and was living on the coast in Florida because I couldn’t fathom going back to my home town. I had a great roommate and I was a mere 10 minutes from the Atlantic Ocean. Everything was going well until I started to develop a spastic colon that kept me, well, in the bathroom for more time than I would care to admit. I had horrible pain and cramps and sudden evacuation was non-negotiable. And to make things even more fun I started losing my hair. You know how guys tend to have that V hairline as they age? Well, I was sporting that on and off for about four years. My hair line came and went just like my spastic colon. I gave up so many foods and got all kinds of testing to no avail. Every single test came back with a clean bill of health and a physician who just shrugged his shoulders.
And just like that my colon and revolving hair line problems disappeared. A new era had begun. One that would include large amounts of blood in my urine on an almost daily basis. I again went to all kinds of specialists I would have rather not gone to. Every test, scan, wash, etc, came back clean. This occurred over the course of a year and to this day no one knows what happened. I know I probably lost some hair to that one. I mean if you look that scenario up the options are all very scary and very serious.
Just as before, the blood just vanished from my urine. And a new problem emerged shortly after. This one has left me with a lot of reverberations. Large scale vertigo attacks that came out of nowhere and would last for around an hour meaning I was on the floor of wherever I was at the time of the attack for around an hour keeping my eyes closed and trying not to vomit. It was to say the least, extremely interruptive. On top of that, I typically felt like complete shit for two - three days after an attack and since I had them on an almost weekly basis my life dwindled quickly to a very base level of survival. After an attack, I was useless. My brain was foggy, and everything felt like I was walking through very thick mud. I just couldn’t function. It was bad. I again went to doctors and had scans, ultrasounds, tests… and nothing. Not one damn thing could be found. I had a clean bill of health. These attacks would last for a little over one year and then vanish without a trace.
And then? Nothing. I was left with a body that had been through way too much and a whole bunch of weight. I had gained 30 pounds! I had yoga poses I could not do because I had a stomach in the way. Ugh. I was exhausted, fat, and unhappy. I was also different. I couldn’t do a lot of the things I had done before this almost decade of woe. My energy levels were different, my metabolism was different and my activities had to change.
And then just like that to coin the phrase again, my metabolism started to pick back up. I became ravenous, but now I could eat without fear of sudden evacuation. To date, I have only lost 10 pounds. It is slow, but also steady. I see a pattern where I drop two to three pounds then go back up and then ever so slowly slide back down and then repeat. It has to be a Guinness World Record for slowest weight loss ever, but I am fine as long as my heath issues stay away and my weight slowly descends back to a number I am more accustomed to.
So I titled this patience, which I have not spoken about. I guess I did have patience through out those seven or so years. I was so wrapped up with what my body could and could not do I did not have time to care so much about the other stuff. Isn’t it strange that life was easier when I was facing major health issues than it is now that I am not? Now is when I need all the patience I can muster. I am on the mend. Things are looking better on the health front and so now, I am keenly aware of everything else. I have never been more depressed than I am right now. I have never been more unhappy than I am right now. I have never been more shattered than I am right now. It is like I am waking up from a bad nightmare to see that I lost seven years and I haven’t made any gains in any area of my life. Now is when I need patience the most. I guess I no longer have a reason for all that has not materialized. Maybe it is not patience I need at all. Perhaps I need faith and that is something I am low on as well. Becoming homeless really jarred me and even though I am still here to tell the tale - it changed everything I ever believed about God and the Universe. Perhaps what I need right now is faith that God hasn’t decided that He is done with me. And patience to be willing to stick around to see what’s out there, to see what’s next…