I had noticed that my body tended to feel better during the summer, but I attributed that to dryer, warmer weather and being more active.

There has certainly been a buzz about Vitamin D over the last few years.  I have been hearing about it from my father-in-law, who is an MD, my L. Ac. and have also seen articles about it in alternative medicine journals.  I heard that there had been an increase in rickets, links to cancer prevention, and cardiovascular disease.  What I didn’t know is that it has also been linked to fibromyalgia and back pain.

A few months ago, I was sick-sick-sick, in order to kick it, I decided to start taking a few extra supplements, including Vitamin D (in higher amounts than the RDA).  Once I was better, I continued for good measure.

I had noticed a major reduction in shoulder and back pain-about 85%, actually. I attributed this to the fact that I had been working less, but as time went on and I got back up to a normal workload, my shoulder pain didn’t come back, they were still sore, but the pain remained relatively low.  I was also sleeping better because my lower back (which had me turning regularly) was also much better.

My back problems are old and chronic.  I have had episodes of pain since I was in my early 20’s, but I have also been seriously athletic since then, participating in either long distance cycling or serious running and hiking for most of that time.  Less activity and two disc herniations later, I have had a weak, numb and achey left leg for the last year.  My back was getting generally better before I started taking D, but the trajectory of improvement has increased and so has my quality of life.

About a month after I started supplementing my D, I had my level tested and it came out at 40.  That number is adequate, but not particularly high, so I suspect that I did start out with a deficiency that was leading to my body’s inability to deal with the inflammation brought up by my physically challenging lifestyle.

The image is borrowed from the Pine Street Foundation, I highly recommend taking the time to read and understand their longish article on Vitamin D.

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Then, I asked our friend who is a social worker with A- county about breastfeeding foster kids.  Apparently, it requires a court order. At that time, we were still pretty far off from entering the matching process, so I let go of it.  We finished our PRIDE classes  and I had a renewed motivation to start pumping (but are still a few months from entering matching).  I figured, I would never regret trying to see if I can produce milk, even if we don’t have a kid that will breastfeed.  And the way that we are talking about setting our criteria, there is a good possibility that we would be able to get the court order to allow breastfeeding.

A lactation consultant had told me that if you produce milk once, it is always easier the second time.  Starting now would be an initial indicator of what I would be capable of later and would help me determine whether I would need to use drugs to lactate.

So, I began to pump on a regular schedule, every 2-3 hours.  My nipples hurt and cracked, but I was producing drops from the very beginning. I came down with a case of the swine flu a few days after I started pumping and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. First I cut down on how often I was pumping and as my symptoms got worse, I had to cut it out entirely. At the peak of my pumping, which may have been on the 2nd or third day, I got about 7 drops from my left breast (which seems to be slightly larger and more productive.

About a month later, I started again and immediately had an even bigger production, about 11 drops.  Part of what I had read was that pumping never works as good as a baby and looking at photos of babies and fantasizing about them may help stimulate the oxytocin required for let down.  I bought Sleeping Beauties which was filled with large, glossy photos of sleeping newborns.  I would spend the 20 minutes pumping starting at that.  But over the course of a few days, pumping regularly, I got less and less until I wasn’t producing anything. Had it been saving up over the month that I had stopped? Why did it get to be less and not more?

Although it seems that some people are able to induce lactation without meds (the primary being domperidone), the vast majority are only able to produce miniscule amounts. It may be in part the difference of those who have lactated previously.  One thing is agreed at the forums at adoption.com, it is much easier and much more likely to work with meds.

So again, I have put this process on temporary hold.  I will likely wait until we are matched then pursue meds if it makes sense at that time.

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The magic tripod that allows me to maintain a highly productive lifestyle collapsed. Some Exercise, Decent Diet and Stress Management (are the three legs) stopped happening. I KNEW it was a mistake, but I scheduled two big events on the same weekend. I cooked for the anarchist cafe AND organized and held a big meeting for a new project that I am launching. And of course, the former exposed me to a whole lot of germs in black hoodies.

So, it is sort of a case of hard-to-prevent bad timing, but even before that, there were too many commitments with not enough fun. Even some of the things that used to be fun turned into areas of stress and obligation for me.  I did start dropping some things before I got sick, but there are some things that I just couldn’t budge without a crisis. Meanwhile, Zombie mom posted about her own work-a-holic nature, which made me raise my eyebrow, but it is easy for me to deny this since I don’t have just one “job” and most of my projects don’t pay money.

This all fits in with a parenting article that I read recently about the importance of unstructured family time. In particular, parenting in the last decade faces critiques for not providing enough outlets for children to entertain themselves and, in turn, has limited their initiative in  creative play.  What is best for kids developmentally (and maybe for people in general?) is having more unstructured family time, where you are just chilling out and someone says, “Hey, let’s play Monopoly” or “I am gonna build a cabin out of these Lincoln Logs” or “Wow, mom, the fridge is really dirty! Can I clean it?”  Of course, this is about not having your self and your kids in too many commitments.  I really don’t wan to be a mom that ignores her family because she has to work all the time or a soccer mom that lives and breathes to drive her kid to the next activity. Not to mention, that I want to MODEL myself as an adult that takes care of herself, making time for my own dental appointments and taking time to sit in the sun with a book and a cup of tea every once in a while.

A while back, my therapist gave me a great tool to frame this all in.  It is sort of a zen approach, where I think of all the activities that I participate in without obligation and as something that I am choosing to do right now, not necessarily forever.  Both setting my commitments up that way (with actual or potential end dates), but also giving myself the opportunity to change my mind about things as I go feels ridiculously revolutionary.

Being sick for a month also gave me a clean start. When I had to put everything on hold to vomit and lie shivering in bed, it was a reality check that I COULD do that.  My clients love me and they waited for me, I am not so poor that I can’t miss some work time every once in a while.  It was sort of like hitting a reset button. My diet cleaned up, my routines disappeared, and gee golly, the world didn’t freakin stop and my life actually didn’t change that much. Oh, I did lose 5 pounds.

So the upshot is cool new projects that will hopefully move my career in a good direction and a break (and exodus?) from the projects that aren’t serving me.  A renewed intention to focus on my career, both serving my clients and also moving my work in a direction that will be sustainable for me on a longer term.

More importantly, was the not-so-gentle reminder to take care of myself. Oh, and hang out with my dogs more, who seem to be magical converters of stress and obligation into joyful, frolicky runs, furry-soft cuddles and long lazy nights of sleep.

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1.  The opposite of a fair-weather friend, a foul-weather friend only seeks you out if they have a problem, need a shoulder to cry on, a ride to town or someone to watch their dog, but otherwise they act as if they don’t even know you. They’re only your chum when they’re glum.
2. A foul-weather friend is someone who likes to be around you when you are unemployed, depressed and in the dumps. He/she feels sorry for you, and gets some pleasure out of feeling superior, handing out advice, berating you for having a bad attitude. As soon as you get out of the slump, get a job, get in shape, get a decent place to live, etc., the fair weather friend is jealous, and stops speaking to you.

J-  and I thought that we had made this term, but after Topeka’ing it (lol), it appears to not be our original idea.  We invented it for a friend who I would go for years to months without hearing from until she was released from the institution, losing her apartment or getting broken up with and then she would appear.  Well, I have become a sort of opposite version of a foul weather friend in the fact that my friends and acquaintances seem to be engulfed in crisis and I am wanting and feeling compelled to show up for them.

So, I have been thinking about this fact. I have many friends that live poor (by choice or not), many friends that are queer/single or not in traditional relationships and also among folks that do participate in more risky lifestyle choices.  Also, activists and radicals are less likely to devote adequate resources to their health (myself included), whether that means things like exercising and eating well or having health insurance.  We are also just plain and simple getting older, which increases our risk for disease and complications.  Most of the time, these things do not effect anyones life too much (and especially mine), but the moment seems to be a convergence of folks in need.

A friend to all is a friend to none. – Aristotle

Okay, but the last part. Why so much going on and going wrong and why do I sometimes feel like I want to take it all on?  Is it that I have lots of friends (423 by Facebook’s count) and am grounded in a community where I have known most of those people for 5-20 years?  Is it because I spent time working on mutual aid projects and am in a caregiving profession?  I sometimes wonder if it has become a dysfunctional part of my identity. Of course it feels good to help and be available and it is also sometimes a relief to focus on someone else’s problems.  Some of it is wanting to give back for those many bits of help that I received when I was poor and when we had the kids and any little bit of help made so much of a difference.

I suppose what feels most notable about this moment is that I cannot keep up  with the demand that I perceive.  There is more need that I can provide and this makes me feel a bit sad and hopeless. It makes me wonder if this marks a downturn that will continue for the future.  It is forcing me to pace myself and recognize my own self-care requirements (and the importance of them).  It is also forcing me to make choices that I would rather not make.

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When I got out of school, I remained broke.  When it was time to start paying off my student loans, I was still broke.

By that time, I had figured out that I was much less likely to spend by not using a bank account and by not using a credit card.  It was the first time that I chose paper over plastic.  Rather than depositing my money and removing it slowly with a debit card, I cashed my check every month and budgeted that way. I found (and still find) that I am much less likely to spend if I am handing over bills than if I use a debit or credit card AND that I was much less likely to stay on a budget if I had a physical stash that I was using to monitor myself.

This is not really a groundbreaking discovery, but instead something that has been understood for quite some time.  A 2008 NPR story reports that this is psychologically rooted in that there is a difference in feeling between actually spending the money versus agreeing to pay the money at a future time.  It notes that the average spending at McDonald’s goes up from $4.50 with cash to $7.00 with credit.

Using cash only also supports my aesthetic and political sensibilities. I appreciate the added benefits of keeping my money local and under the radar.

More recently, I had some experience with bartering. It was a great way to practice massage without simply giving bodywork away. Barter served to build up my reputation, client and referral base. But the more skilled and busy that I have become, I have been less willing to barter. Sometimes, it ended up feeling like an unequal trade andother times it has created scheduling or tracking difficulties and stress.  I also ended up consuming many more services than I would normally, getting my hair done frequently and receiving private pilates instruction (although I do miss these things, they are just more extravagant than my budget actually allows.  I am at the point, where it is worth it to pay people for their work and for me to get paid for mine.  I have my schedule clear for paying clients and I can schedule with any provider that I want without dealing with feelings of obligation or micro-managing the relationship. It was as if I rediscovered the idea of money. It was invented for sensible reasons, but I know all about where good intentions lead…

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I picked up this book on a whim when I saw it in the new arrivals section of my local used book store. I have been thinking a lot about my own diet and exercise recently (and always have historically) and the idea of exercise addiction was intriguing. Certainly the story of someone that has struggled with exercise bulimia – a compulsion to purge calories through excessive exercise – is a solid premise for a useful and engrossing story.

I got off to a bad start with the book when I saw that it wasn’t really a diary (or even a reconstructed diary), while it did use a diary format. Entries ranged from ½ page to a few pages and covered anywhere from a day to a months time. But, even some of the entries marked with a single day were written about a longer time period. Most of the entries are written in the past tense with a reflective tone. Mixed in were what appeared to be entries from Friedman’s actual diary that are printed in computer generated script. The inconsistent style and time jumps lends to a disjointed voice and disconnected this reader. With better editing, the book may have been a much better read.

Immediately after I finished, I picked up Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress, a memoir by Susan Jane Gilman to reread it. I immediately began cracking up, although the substance of Susan Jane Gilman’s life is really thin. She just knows how to write about it with such flourishes that make the absolute most of it. I often feel as if I am right there, relating what she experienced as a child or seeing her through her teacher’s or parent’s eyes. It is this that Friedman lacks. I often didn’t feel present and was instead bored, although not too bored to keep reading.

I impressed by the bravery which Friedman bears herself. She shows a lot of ugly parts of herself in order to tell her story, including rage, vanity and shame. It is these moments that kept me going through the logistical details of her life. Occasionally, you can relate to her feelings, but mostly you are plodding through the motions of her routines and her life changes over the course of 6 years.

Some of these routines are the substance of her eating disorder and some are only tangential. These routines seem to have a significance that Friedman implies, but doesn’t really drive home. For example, she speaks many times of eating ice cream and frozen yogurt. I never really figure out what she is trying to say. Is she guilty for eating unhealthily? Does she use it to rationalize exercise later? Does she feel free of her disorder enough to indulge? Also, she talks about her hair a number of times and it is not clear if she is actually this vain or if she is intentionally pointing out the sort of vanity that leads to eating disorders.

Ironically, I most liked Friedman’s voice in the Epilogue. Here, she discusses the nuts and bolts of her actual recovery, which she gives nods to throughout the book, but doesn’t previously deconstruct. She looks at her own emotional process and what she has learned about eating disorders and culture. I wish that her intelligent analysis had been able to permeate the rest of the book instead of countless details that we are never able to make sense of.

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I was shocked to hear a friend say that her best friend was keeping a secret from her husband for 12 years.  I asked, “Was she keeping it from you, too?” She said, “Well, it’s not all that relevant for our relationship.” I simply couldn’t imagine any of my best friends keeping secrets from me, let alone from their partners.

This often carries over with my clients.  Sometimes I see myself as sort of a bartender, where people can bring their troubles to me, if it feels right. It makes sense since there is such a connection with physical holding and stress/emotions and with massage and emotional release.  J- thinks I should start an advice column, actually.  I think that would be the greatest job (next to being a forest ranger).

So, usually this goes okay for me and I am able to be empathetic, non-judgmental and supportive without stressing myself out or taking it on.  Well, just the right issues came together this week to totally trigger me and it took me about 24 hours to figure out why I was getting so wrapped up in them. Two of my friends are both dealing with the loss of children in very different ways.  I felt so drawn to supporting them and felt their grief as if it were my own.  I saw each one of them on two days in a row and I could really think of nothing else for those two days.

Meanwhile, I am spiraling through PMS and wanting to cry at everything from seeing my dogs play to a cheezy movie.  Luckily, it was my day off and I was able to just take some time to myself, walking with my dogs and such.  As soon as I walked into my acupuncturists office and sat down, I realized that this was all triggering the sadness of my own loss of the girls.  I had actually made that connection with each of the situations separately, but for some reason, recognizing the common thread between the two situations had a huge impact. To spell it out: definitely time to get back into therapy for me.

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I met Sarah’s mom before I met Sarah.  We were at an earthquake preparedness meeting where we were discussing, as a community, how to be prepared and connected to people in our own neighborhoods and how to get in touch with people in other neighborhoods if lines of communication go down.  At that point, Sarah “Bean” (a nickname that we all use as a way to differentiate her from other Sarah’s that we know), was practically a legend in my mind.  My friends had been asking me for over a year whether I knew her.  She was roommates with a close friend, but never seemed to be around whenever I was there.

Finally, a few months later, I met Sarah at a party and I adored her immediately.  We decided to  begin trading massage.  I am a professional massage therapist and am fairly picky about who I will trade with.  Sarah’s modality is different than mine (her Tui Na to my Deep Tissue).  Although I prefer deep tissue massage, I have benefited and enjoyed all modalities when done well.

A practitioner can be good with touch intuitively or be mediocre, even with a lot of training.  Sarah is a talented bodyworker because of her ability to connect with others.  She did not have much training when I first started receiving massage from her, but she always had a wonderful touch.  Throughout the year that we traded, her work evolved as she furthered her training and offered more fully integrated sessions.

Like many young people in the Bay Area (and many bodyworkers), Sarah is a person of many hats.  She is a teacher, a thinker and a healer.  Given the opportunities, Sarah’s possibilities are boundless because she is the kind of person that turns everything that she touches into her own.  She was working hard in many apsects of her life, including preparing for her trip logistically and learning Arabic.

Sarah gave me this photo before she left for her trip

Despite her light and easy presence with others, she takes the world and her position in it quite seriously.  I’ve always been impressed by the gravity that she holds the well-being of others, which translates into her politics, her employment and her friendships.  She often spoke of her love and concern for her family and friends and was fiercely loyal and loving to both.

The Hikers

What I really appreciate about the campaign to get Sarah, Shane and Josh released is the focus on the fact that they are hikers.  Of course, this does not comprehensively define them, but is a part of a lifestyle that I share with Sarah.  I can imagine her joy in being able to explore this area. The Free the Hikers website is filled images of them in nature.

Shon Meckfessel, who was travelling with them (but did not join them on the hike) explains their discovery of the area.

Every one of them told us to visit a place called Ahmed Awa. Not one of these people mentioned that Ahmed Awa was anywhere near the Iranian border. In fact, on the wall of our hotel there were three photos of tourists standing near the Ahmed Awa waterfall.  Ahmed Awa seemed the clear choice for appreciating the stunning natural beauty around Sulaimania, far from any sort of risk. However, it may have been unclear to the people who encouraged us to visit Ahmed Awa that we intended to go hiking in the area, rather than simply visiting the waterfall.

News reports say that the hikers may have entered Iran and it is plainly obvious to anyone who learns anything about them (including the involved governments) that they would not spy and also would not have entered Iran intentionally.  Either one would be antithetical to their personalities and life choices.  This was simply an awful, tragic mistake.

I have not followed much of the media, but I was particularly struck by Sarah’s mom reading an email that Sarah had sent just before they traveled to this Kurdish region or Iraq.  She assures her mom that the area is completely safe and pro-american and there is no history of American’s being harmed there.

Helping

Unfortunately, those of us hoping for the release of the hikers are currently subject to a bit of a waiting game. My understanding is that the situation is precarious because the US does not have diplomatic relations with Iran and communication with and about the hikers has been somewhere between non-existent to scarce to not trustworthy.

It is my understanding that what they need most, other than raising awareness for the situation is money.  T-shirts can be bought here (which will do both).  The list of ways to help and ways to follow the situation is being constantly updated here.  I hope that I will be able to plan some sort of fundraiser for them and encourage others to do the same.  I also know that the families are already traveling for meetings and media opportunities and are welcoming the donation of frequent flier miles.

My take is that no one really knows at this point what will help expediate the release of the hikers and because of that, it is difficult for the families to know what to ask for.  Because of this, I am beginning to try and work with the folks involved to support them personally.

Massage is a really wonderful thing to be able to offer.  In times of stress, trauma and crisis, massage can relieve the physical and emotional holding patterns that begin to happen for people.  It also helps clear the mind; “let go” is not the right word, but maybe reorganize a little.  I have been lucky enough to be able to work on some people on their team that cannot right now afford much time or money to devote to their own self-care.

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Enter poison oak.  I had gotten poison oak a couple of times after owning the woods for many years, thinking that I was immune.  Well, you know the school of thought that says the more you are exposed to it, the worse your allergy becomes?  I am a believer.  It started with getting a rash in an area of contact and later became something that spread quickly to areas of my body that were completely covered.  Not only that, but I became so sensitive that I would have no direct contact with it, wipe my dogs down when I got home and I would still get it.  My favorite story is that I did brush against it and got it through my shirt.  I washed the shirt and I got it again.  This actually happened 4 more times until I washed it with tecnu (it was one of my favorite shirts) and could again wear it without consequence.  (Tecnu really is amazing, folks. Apparently, nobody really knows why it works. But IMHO, it is a miracle. If I know I have been exposed to PO and wash immediately with when I get home, I do NOT get a rash!)

In late 2007, I did a bunch of web research about building immunity since I could not imagine giving up geocaching or hiking in the hills.  Being in the hills for long, sometimes all day walks was part of my identity; it is what I did for myself to feel like myself.  I began taking rhus tox homeopathically on my own.

Along the way, I had seen the webpage for a local homeopath who treated poison oak. When I saw his name again in a Sierra Club magazine, I decided to make the call.  He was fantastic, but unfortunately…it didn’t work.  We tried everything and it only seemed to get worse.  I decided the only thing that I could do was cold turkey it. No more hills at all. I wasn’t going to be exposed and neither were my dogs.

Meanwhile, I had several other skin outbreaks that I assumed were  a fungus.  They were itchy and scaly (some areas worse than others). I treated them as such and put anti-fungal cream on. Ate endless raw garlic, grapefruit seed extract and mostly cut sugars out.  It, too ONLY GOT WORSE!  I had treated fungus on my own several times, so I knew something was amiss.  I was at my wits end at this point and went to a dermatologist.  He felt it was a clear cut case of psoriasis.  He took a biopsy (this is now sometime in 2008) and since things like this are never really simple for me, it went through a number of different tests because it did show markers of a rare kind of lymphoma.  In the end, they decided that it was psoriasis and the steroid cream that they prescribed worked. The dermatologist said that psoriasis can run many different courses in people and that it was very common for someone my age getting it for the first time to just go away again.

End of story?  Of course not.

I never really thought of myself as vain until I got a rash on my face.  For most of 2009, my face was somewhere between dry- irritated and swollen- red-oozing.   I was very surprised how much it disturbed me and how self-conscious I became. Using a topical steroid would help, but only for a week or so.  Eventually, my skin became reactive to metal, I had trouble wearing my glasses and my wedding ring.  Although psoriasis typically spares the face, my dermatologist and I both attributed my issues to that, for lack of any better explanation.

I tried a few things to help including changing my facial products and accupuncture, but when my face was better, it didn’t seem to last long and I was beginning to feel more dependent on steroids.  I began to wonder if what I was dealing with was eczema and not a product of psoriasis.  I thought back to all of they lifestyle and diet changes that I have underwent about the same time that I started having issues with my face.  After a bit of research I found this:

The most common food triggers for eczema are eggs, milk, peanuts, soy, and wheat. Among these, eggs are probably associated the most strongly with eczema.

Well, I hate to give such a complicated story a anti-climatic ending, but I think I am allergic to eggs.  About two weeks ago, I eliminated them from my diet almost completely and my skin has been remarkably improved.  It is still too soon to tell whether it will stay improved, but it has not felt this good in some time, especially for this long of a time.

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From the class handout:

Assumptions Underlying th Practice of Nonviolent Communication

1.  Human Needs are universal.

2.  Feelings point to need being met or unmet.

3. All actions are attempts to meet needs.

4.  All human beings have the cpacity for compassion.

5.  Giving is joyful when it comes from choice and connection.

6.  Connection arises from mutual understanding of the needs behind behavior.

7.  There is enough for all to meet our basic needs.

8.  Moving away from “right/wrong” judgments supports us in making peace.

So, it seemed that this workshop was as much about looking at yourself and your own motivations as it was communication. Actually, the woman doing the class described NVC as a spiritual practice, since she is constantly revising her sense of self based on what she learns from applying the principals. Don’t get me wrong, unless one lives in a bubble, this has huge ramifications for communication, since this is the way that we usually try to get our needs met.

The teacher used the acronym OFNR to describe the NVC process that determines the appropriate communication: Oberservation, Feelings, Needs and Request.

They emphasized that we often consider something a need that is actually a strategy. For example a strategy is to ask for quiet or to follow directions to get to the car, when the needs may actually be rest or food. Getting in touch with the actual need can help lead to clearer and better communication.

The teacher said a few things about NVC with regards to parenting that really stuck out for me. One was that she sees the modeling of her own communication rubbing off on her 6 and 9 year old boys, who are able to identify and articulate their own needs in their decision making. She mentioned stretching herself sometimes, when she knows that she does not want to offer what her sons are asking for, she tells them, “This is not what I want, but I am going to stretch myself and say yes.” And in return, they sometimes stretch themselves, as well.

Finally, she offered that NVC has taught her compassion for herself. Although it seems that the system might open up a can of worms as far as things to go wrong, she emphasized that it is really hard and a constant process. Our mistakes, and understanding them in more depth is what helps us grow into better people. We want to model for this children and teach them to accept themselves and their own learning process.

I left this class really impressed by these ideas and wondering whether it would have helped in our situation with T-7. I do not think that we know the answer to that question, since it may depend on her diagnosis. But, I do think that it can help with our future lives as parents and our interactions with each other.

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